Tell Me No Lies

by Elizabeth Lowell

  The swelling promise of her breasts lured him lower. He stole warm drops from her skin in a slowly diminishing spiral that led finally to the ruby peak. This time she couldn't whisper his name, for the sweet burst of sensation took even her voice. She braced herself on his arms as she felt the world begin to slide away, leaving her suspended within his primal sensuality.

  Catlin made a thick sound of satisfaction as he felt Lindsay sag against his strength. He turned to her other breast, slowly brushing his mouth from side to side. The coarse silk texture of his mustache electrified her, making her nipple tighten wildly. When he pulled the peak into his mouth and caressed her with the hot, slow rhythms of increasing desire, she began to tremble all over again. Smiling, he slid down her body, caressing her with his hands, licking up water, tasting her, enjoying her with all his senses. He bit softly at her inner thigh, then less gently, sucking on the creamy skin with enough force to leave a loving mark.

  The tiny pain sent a sunburst of sensation through Lindsay. Her head tilted back against the tile and she moaned softly, a sound that was all but lost in the pouring of the water down the far side of the shower. Catlin heard the small cry and felt fire burst through him. His hands slid up to the very top of her thighs, seeking and finding the twin creases where torso and legs joined. His thumbs caressed the tendons before his hands flexed deeply. With a helpless moan she arched toward him, bracing her legs wide apart because she could support herself no other way.

  He nuzzled aside the dark bronze hair, revealing her to his caressing mouth. Delicately he traced the hot flesh, feeling ha tremble beneath his hands and his intimate kiss. When his tongue found and stroked the tight knot of nerves hidden between layers of softness, she moaned again. A wild pleasure coursed through her repeatedly, tightening her body. Her laughed against her and his teeth closed with exquisite care around the violently sensitive nub of flesh, isolating it for his teasing tongue.

  Lindsay's fingers locked on Catlin's shoulders and her nails bit into his flesh as his name was torn from her lips. He drank the small pain of her nails just as he drank the shivers coursing through her, giving her to him.

  "Honey cat," he said thickly. "Sweetness and claws."

  With a cry Lindsay arched against him, twisting slowly in the flames called by his wild caresses, shaking with the force of the ecstasy consuming her. Catlin kissed and stroked and gently bit her sweet flesh again and again, unwilling to release her even though he knew that he would have more from her tonight. He would have everything. He had just begun to explore her shimmering sensuality.

  Finally, reluctantly, Catlin came to his feet once again, holding Lindsay against his body because she could barely stand alone. With quick motions of his hand he shut off the shower before he lifted her, carried her to the bed and lay down between her legs. Slowly be began caressing her all over again.

  "Catlin – " Her husky voice broke. "I can't!"

  "Yes, you can," he said, kissing her gently, loving her with his mouth, all of her. "And you will. Tonight you're going to learn what you taught me. There's no end to me, to you."

  He smiled at her, and her breath caught with the certainty in his untamed golden eyes.

  "Yes," he said huskily, seeing her expression change. "I'm going to absorb you into me, all of you, just as you absorbed me."

  Catlin knew that with a certainty that was both calming and infinitely exciting. It let him come to Lindsay with a slow, consuming sensuality that was as new to him as it was to her. His touch unraveled her, stripping her of inhibitions as she responded to his husky, urgent words and primal touch. She held back nothing of her response or her need or herself, letting him teach her the secrets of her body and his own until neither he nor she knew which one touched and which one was touched, which one wept and which one tasted tears, which one cried out and which one drank the cry.

  When he finally became a part of her, she flowed over him like a wild river of fire, and together they were consumed by that fire while the night burned down around them.

  Chapter 19

  The first harsh ring of the phone brought Catlin from a sound sleep to full wakefulness in less than a heartbeat. In the instant before his hand brought the receiver to his ear, his body registered the warm impact of Lindsay curled along his side, and his mind filled with a rush of recent memory. He didn't know whether to laugh or swear when he hardened almost violently in response to the sensual images.

  "Yes," Catlin said curtly into the phone.

  "Your toilet's running."

  Catlin glanced at the bedside clock. "You called me at six-thirty in the morning to tell me that? What's the matter – Stone turn you into a plumber?"

  "No, but the boys sure are tired of listening to your toilet leak," said O'Donnel.

  "I'll see what I can do."

  Catlin yawned and stretched hugely as he sat up and propped his naked back against the padded headboard. Lindsay stirred restlessly, still asleep, missing Catlin's warmth. His free hand smoothed over her hair and then slid beneath the sheet, savoring the warm, womanly body that turned toward his touch. The bone-deep honesty of her response both fascinated and aroused him.

  "Did Stone come through with those mug shots?" continued Catlin.

  "I'll check. He's on the other phone yelling at someone."

  "Take your time," Catlin offered, easing the sheet down Lindsay's body.

  She lay on her side with one hand under her head. The other hand was drawn up between her breasts and tucked beneath her chin. One of her breasts nestled in the crook of her arm. She looked altogether too edible for Catlin's peace of mind. He circled her breast with sensitive fingertips, enjoying the changing texture from silk to nubby satin. The nipple rose to a taut peak that grew even more erect as he tugged gently at the ruby tip.

  Lindsay's eyes opened slowly, a blue so dark that it was like a midnight sea. Half asleep, half awake, wholly a creature of her senses, she stretched languidly in response to the gentle streamers of sensation radiating from Catlin's touch. His breath shortened as her breast pressed against his palm and the sheet slithered down her body to reveal a golden triangle of hair. He put his palm over the receiver, making sure that no sound would be transmitted.

  "Come here, honey cat," Catlin said. "I've been waiting a long time to kiss you good-morning."

  "I thought the phone just rang a minute ago," Lindsay murmured, her voice husky. She sighed and rubbed her cheek against Catlin's chest. Her eyelids lowered as she slid back into the warm, sensual world of near sleep.

  "Yes," Catlin said, almost groaning as he felt Lindsay shape herself to his body. "That's a long, long time to wait."

  Eyes closed, Lindsay smiled and reached for Catlin even as he drew her across his chest. His tongue swept into her mouth, filling her. She made a small sound, remembering the long, wild hours before dawn. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for a man of Catlin's uninhibited sexuality. He had consumed her and then laughed with sheer pleasure as he drank the cries pouring from her. She had responded to his searching, soothing, inciting caresses as she had to no other lover, letting him strip away years of hesitation and mistrust, peeling her down to her sensual core and then rebuilding her layer by layer with his own body as he gave himself to her without restraint or calculation.

  An honest man.

  "Catlin? Catlin! Did you go back to sleep?"

  The sound of O'Donnel's voice yelling close to Catlin's ear made him reluctantly release Lindsay's mouth. As he uncovered the receiver, Lindsay snuggled against him, exploring him sleepily with her mouth. The texture of his chest hair intrigued her, tickling her lips as it had in her dreams. She tugged experimentally, unsure whether she were waking or dreaming, and not really caring. Wherever she was, it was warm and musky and sensually gratifying.

  "I'm here," Catlin said, his eyes darkening as tiny slivers of pleasure pierced him with each movement of Lindsay's lips.

  "You sound half asleep," complained O'Donnel.


  Catlin smiled down at the bronze hair that was lying across his chest. As Lindsay's head turned he could see the pink tip of her tongue searching for his nipple, finding it. He controlled his breathing even as he buried his free hand in Lindsay's hair. He thought he was going to pull her away from his chest, but then he felt himself moving her head slowly from side to side, encouraging her to rub her mouth across his sensitive flesh. The contrast between the heat of her tongue and the coolness of the room brought every one of his senses into sharp focus.

  "I'm waking up," Catlin said into the phone.

  Teeth closed on his small, erect nipple, tugging at him with a lazy sensuality that made him ache. He gave up any thought of pulling Lindsay away. It felt much too good to have her tongue stroking him, tasting him. His fingers worked through her hair to her scalp, holding her against his erect nipple, caressing her.

  "If you can manage to stay awake a few more minutes," O'Donnel said tartly, "Stone wants to talk to you."

  "I'll try," Catlin said, smoothing the ball of his thumb down Lindsay's spine. "Did you run down that Chinese tail you were after last night?"

  There was a silence, then a startled laugh. "For a second there I thought you were talking about a piece of ass," explained O'Donnel, "and I was wondering how the hell you knew that I'd picked up a little honey who – "

  "I'm too old to be interested in a piece of ass," interrupted Catlin, yawning again, "and if you aren't, you ought to be."

  "Too old for sex?" O'Donnel taunted.

  "No. Too old for ass. There's a difference."

  "There is?" O'Donnel asked cynically.

  Catlin's laugh was a low, rough-edged sound of pleasure as Lindsay's hands kneaded down his torso as though she were a sleepy, contented cat. Her fingernails raked lightly over the long muscles. He knew as surely as if she had spoken aloud that she was savoring the warmth and power of his body, just as he had savored the warmth and softness of hers last night. They were perfectly matched as lovers. No games, no secrets, just the endless hot honesty of their mutual response. Susie hadn't been like that. They had been too inexperienced in too many ways. Nor had Mei been like Lindsay. With Mei there had been wild heat but no light, no honesty. She had given him the least important part of herself. He had been too young to realize it at the time – and it had almost cost him his life.

  "There's all the difference in the world," Catlin said softly into the phone as his fingers tightened in Lindsay's hair. "Is this a roundabout way of telling me that you screwed up and lost the Chinese shadow who was following us?"

  "No, it's a roundabout way of distracting you until Stone can get to the phone."

  Lindsay's mouth opened as she bit a ridge of muscle on Catlin's torso with dreamy deliberation, testing his resilience. His deep voice was little more to her than a soothing vibration beneath her cheek, a purring background to the sensual dream enfolding her. She had wanted to do this last night, to know him as intimately, as completely, as he had known her. But before she could follow her impulse they had fallen asleep in each other's arms, their bodies still joined, still slick with sweat, utterly spent.

  "Who was he?" asked Catlin.

  "Who was who?" O'Donnel said innocently.

  Catlin's expression shifted from gentle indulgence to the kind of hardness that people associated with the name of Rousseau.

  "If I don't hear a name in thirty seconds," Catlin said very quietly, not wanting to disturb Lindsay's sleepy, sensual explorations, "I'm going to lock Lindsay in the room and take a little walk. First I'll shake the local Bureau boys. Then I'll take whichever Chinese shadow has morning duty on a tour of Golden Gate Park. After we've done a few laps I'm going to come up from behind and run right up his ass. By the time I get back here I'll be all alone, and I'll know who's getting fucked and who's paying the pimp."

  There was a long silence.

  Catlin's hand found Lindsay's breast as her weight shifted slowly, softly over his body. He caressed her with a gentle care that belied the harshness of his face. As he watched her expression of deep, dreamy sensuality, he realized that she was more asleep than awake, operating entirely on instinct and her instinct was to touch him lovingly. He had never seen that expression on & woman's face. It pierced him like slender, transparent claws sinking sweetly, deeply, beneath his skin, reaching past the physical reality of his body to his mind, touching him in ways he could not name, only feel.

  "The guy got into a car," O'Donnel said, his voice rough. "The car was registered to the Chinese Christian Benevolent Society."

  "Not much help," grunted Catlin. "How many members? Two thousand?"

  "Closer to ten. It's the biggest damn ethnic society in the U.S. and Canada."

  "How many of the people at Wang's party belong?"

  O'Donnel hesitated, then gave a throttled curse. "Everyone but you and Chen Yi, near as we can tell," he said in disgust.

  "And Lindsay," Catlin amended dryly.

  "Wrong. She's listed. So is her mother."

  "How many people have access to the car?"

  "We're working on that."

  "Maybe I better work on a few laps around Golden Gate Park," Catlin shot back.

  Lindsay moved restlessly, disturbed by the sharpness of Catlin's tone. He soothed her with a slow, caressing motion of his hand on her breast, tracing the hard nipple with his thumb. Sighing with pleasure, she smoothed her hand over his torso and nuzzled her mouth against his waist, sinking back down into the sensual dream.

  "Don't do it," said O'Donnel. "You could blow the whole thing to hell. We're not jerking you around. We just don't have any information yet."

  Catlin's breath came in soundlessly as Lindsay's tongue probed at his navel. His hand tightened on her breast until she arched slowly into his palm. Her eyes were closed, her lips smiling, her body languid and uninhibited as it rubbed over his. In slow motion her hand moved beneath the sheet, dragging it down to his thighs. The soft sound of her approval as she discovered and caressed his erect flesh all but made Catlin groan.

  "Catlin? Catlin, are you there?" O'Donnel demanded.

  All there, Catlin thought ruefully. And she's loving every bit of it.

  "I'm here," Catlin said, "but I'm losing patience." His voice caught. He drew a deep breath, trying to regain control of himself as Lindsay explored him. "Is Stone going to have those mug shots this morning?"

  Lindsay's fingers moved caressingly, then nestled between Catlin's thighs, taking the twin weight of him into her hand, savoring all the different textures of his maleness. Catlin's fingers closed over hers gently, irresistibly, holding her hand still. She murmured something as she kissed his thigh, tracing with her tongue the border between warm skin and the intriguing thickness of his hair.

  "Hold it. Stone's saying something to me," O'Donnel said.

  Catlin waited in an agony of sensual suspense as he watched the pink tip of Lindsay's tongue. When she discovered the hot, blunt flesh rising eagerly to meet her, he knew he should stop her. He covered the receiver with a convulsive movement of his hand.

  "Lindsay," he muttered, "you're going to – " The words ended in a thick sound as the soft heat of her mouth encircled him. Her nails flexed lightly, nipping him like tiny teeth. "God, woman," he groaned. "You're killing me."

  He didn't know if she heard him. He didn't know if he even wanted her to. Her breath was warm, moist, another kind of caress. A wild, sweet heaviness claimed his body as his blood focused exclusively between his legs. A long shudder of desire racked his body. He closed his eyes because if he watched Lindsay caress him any longer he wouldn't be able to control anything, even his voice. But instead of pulling her away, his fingers were working deeply into her hair, holding her even closer to his body, wanting every hot, moist bit of her mouth. Her bronze hair spilled over him in a long, silky caress. He stirred beneath her hair with every hard beat of his heart.

  "Catlin? You still there?" asked O'Donnel.

  "J
ust a minute," Catlin said roughly. "Lindsay's trying to tell me something." He covered the receiver again. "If you don't stop," he said, turning Lindsay's head toward him with a steady pressure of his hand, "I'm going to pull you up and bury myself in you right here, right now, and let O'Donnel hear every one of the wild little cries I'll wring out of you!"

  Lindsay tried to turn away, wanting to go back to the shimmering, sensual dream. Then Catlin's words echoed and reality came in a cold burst of understanding.

  O'Donnel.

  Lindsay blinked and shook her head as though she were disoriented. And she was. Catlin's initial lazy caresses had taken her from sleep into a sensuality that was so new to her that she had no way to control it, or herself. She stared at the phone and flushed deeply, realizing what she had been doing, what she had nearly done.

  "I'm sorry," Lindsay whispered, pulling away from Catlin, retreating in an agony of embarrassment. "I don't know what I – I'm not like that. I've never done anything like – "

  Her voice broke and she stopped trying to explain what she didn't understand herself.

  Catlin heard the truth in Lindsay's shaking voice, saw it in the red color staining her cheeks, felt in her confused withdrawal. She hadn't been teasing him just to watch him squirm; she had been as caught in the endless sensual instant as he was. And now she was retreating, ashamed of the sensuality he had summoned out of her very core last night, revelling in it as much as she had.

  Suddenly Catlin's arm swept out, dragging Lindsay up his hot body and pinning her as his mouth caught hers in a deep kiss.

  "I know what got into you," he said against her ear. "Me. Last night. All night. And it's going to happen again. Come here, honey cat," he whispered urgently. "Sit on my lap while I tell O'Donnel to go to hell.''

  She shook her head, refusing to meet Catlin's hungry amber eyes.

  "O'Donnel?" Catlin said into the phone. "We're keeping Lindsay awake. You've got until nine to get the mug shots here. Then I'm going hunting."

  Catlin didn't bother to hang up. He simply pulled the jack out of the phone and dumped the instrument onto the floor.