by Cecy Robson
My nightshirt falls to mid-thigh. It’s white cotton and long-sleeved, and sadly the sexiest piece of clothing I own.
I cautiously walk to the door, moving as quickly as I can, given my blurry vision. Curran knocks once more just as my hand grips the knob and I turn the deadbolt. I smile when I see him standing there, but he doesn’t appear to smile back.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I frown. “Opening the door.”
“You didn’t even ask who it was.”
“Who else would it be?” I see enough to know he’s raising his eyebrows. “Fine.” I shut the door, lock it, and wait for him to knock. “Who is it?” I ask.
“Your smokin’ studly date for the evening, ma’am.”
“In that case, you’d better check with Officer O’Brien so he can clear you.”
“You’re just a fucking riot, you know that?” he says through the door.
I laugh and fling open the door, moving aside so he can step in. “Was that better?” I tease.
He shuts the door and locks it. “Only slightly. But if you don’t know who’s there, even if he claims to be a cop, ask to see a badge, got me?”
“I understand.”
“Good.” Curran gathers me to him, his hand stroking up my arm to gently rest against my face. He leans in. I close my eyes, expecting the lustful aggression he demonstrated before—a deep kiss that demands I pull him down on top of me.
Instead his lips pass along mine until he carefully pushes his tongue in. I follow his lead, although I find myself confused by his care. But as his tongue continues to meet mine, and his thick leather jacket falls to the floor, I’m no longer worried. He plans to stay, and we have all night.
He lifts me in his arms, carrying me while his mouth explores mine with growing need. As we reach the threshold, he pulls away, angling our bodies to avoid colliding against it. The compassion behind his care makes me smile. For all his brute force, his muscles, and his training, it’s clear there’s more to Curran than brawn.
His eyes sweep the room before settling on my face. “It is cold in here,” he says. “Do you want me to turn up the heat?”
He laughs at the way that sounded, but his humor fades when he senses my unease. “My heat was turned off,” I admit, although I don’t confess why.
“You serious?” Curran scrutinizes my face. Whatever he sees hardens his stance, but he doesn’t press. “Well,” he murmurs. “I s’pose I’m going to have to work harder to keep you warm.”
My softer parts tighten from the promise in his deep timbre. He lowers me to the bed and onto the overturned covers, climbing on top of me and kissing me deep. I gasp as he rakes his groin against my panties.
I yank his sweatshirt over his head when he pushes up. He tosses it aside along with his T-shirt, then quickly relieves me of my nightshirt. I pull in my outstretched hands and cross them over my breasts, worried he might not like what he sees.
Curran lowers himself to my side, his attention and hand leaving my face to drag along my body. “I’ve been dying to see you naked again,” his husky voice whispers. “Will you let me?”
He hooks his finger into the side of my panties, lowering them to my ankles and down past my feet. I let my protective embrace linger a moment more before I gather my courage and allow my hands to fall away.
For the first time in a long while, I’m completely exposed. I hold my breath, expecting to be judged and slighted for my imperfections. Instead he lifts my hand and kisses it, his eyes never leaving mine. “Damn, you’re sexy,” he murmurs.
His chest rises and falls in purposeful motions, in tune with my increasing breaths. My nipples tighten as the cold envelops them, drawing Curran’s focus. As his gaze welds to mine, he reaches with his fingers and rolls one, enticing a sweet sting that causes me to pant.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he asks, right before his mouth finds mine.
He grinds his body against me while he tugs off his shoes and socks. My hands get busy, too, reaching to unsnap his jeans, my body wild to feel his bare flesh against mine.
With small bites, his mouth finds its way to the base of my ear. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he rasps. “Otherwise I won’t.”
He jerks away then, hauling me by my hips until they reach the edge of the bed. As he falls to his knees he eases my legs open, giving his large body room to work. Slow kisses travel between my thighs until they reach the perfect spot. With a wink, and an even sexier smirk, Curran dips forward, using his tongue, his mouth, and gentle nibbles to create the perfect rhythm.
It had been close to a year since I felt a man’s touch. That man was barely wanted, and did little to stir my desires. Curran just started pleasing me, and already, my heart’s threatening to detonate through my sternum.
My body involuntarily responds to his, lifting toward him in tilts that match his quickening flicks. The fingers of one hand part my folds, granting his tongue access to frolic while his other hand skims along my belly to cup and knead my breasts.
It’s then that I lose any sense of control. The sensation, the heat building, it’s almost too much. Yet instead of easing away, Curran rises, pitching my legs over his shoulders so all I can do is succumb.
My shoulders bear my weight, keeping my eyes on his and forcing my legs to fall open. In this position, Curran is free to consume me, and all I can do is watch.
I curse through my gritting teeth, trying in vain to suppress my screams and whimpers.
My efforts are wasted. From one breath to the next, my orgasm builds into a mammoth peak that collapses all at once. I fall in a heap with Curran looming over me, his erect penis parallel to his chest. He climbs on top of me, kissing me hard and reaching between us.
His silky head brushes against me, inciting his throaty moan and a sweet tease that lulls me back to the climactic edge. He adjusts his hips and slowly makes his way inside me. I open my legs wider when he seems to struggle, eager to receive him, until common sense bashes me in the skull.
I break loose from his ravishing mouth and push my hand against his chest. “Wait.”
He freezes, then slowly pulls out, his expression riddled with confusion and his breaths pained. “You don’t want me?” he gasps.
Oh, the hell I don’t. “Do you have protection?”
His mouth falls against my neck, kissing me in a way that causes my eyes to roll back in my head. “It’s okay. I swear, I’m clean,” he promises against my ear.
I groan with frustration from having to move away from him again. “I’m clean, too. But that’s not what I mean.”
He pushes up on his forearms, understanding lighting those magnetic eyes. “You’re not on birth control?”
“No.”
“Shit.”
I stroke his face. “You don’t have anything?”
“Not with me.” He nips my chin. “I’m supposed to be on duty, remember?”
“Oh.”
I can’t tell who’s more disappointed, me or him. As I feel his waning erection slide against my thigh, I begin to think it might be him.
Uh-uh. Not in my bed, buddy.
I reach between us and tug on his bottom lip with my teeth. “We’re not done yet,” I assure him.
Curran squints when I begin to rub, allowing me to slide beneath him. This time, I’m the one who falls to my knees. This time, it’s my turn to be aggressive.
Like in the elevator, I don’t hold back, taking him deep and deeper yet.
My efforts make him vocal. And I like it. I’m in complete control to do what I please, his vulnerability to my mouth and touch surging my desires and his.
Curran stands and gathers my hair, thrusting gently, but speaking in a growl that makes it clear he enjoys the raid on his body. “You like that, baby?” he grunts.
I moan, demonstrating just how much.
He curses, growing louder when I dig my nails into his luscious backside and encourage him to pump faster and further in.
“Fuck,” he groans when I haul him back, curling his arms around my head.
I slow as he finishes, using more gentle movements, then lift my gaze to meet his. Sweat trickles down his chest and his light skin flushes to a deep red. He clasps my elbows and helps me to my feet, searching my face as if he doesn’t know me.
But he does. No one has ever known me like Curran.
Curran
I don’t remember falling asleep. What I do remember is Tess next to me, the smell of her hair, and how I gathered her close to keep her warm.
I also remember Joey, and the visit he paid me. He’s been a frequent guest in my head lately, one that has overstayed his welcome, all thanks to me.
Same dream. Same scenario. Same reality.
Shit.
“We got him now, O’Brien!” Joey yells.
I recognize that familiar light in his eyes, the one all rookies get at their first big arrest. The adrenaline stirs it. It’s the same light that dulls with each passing year on the force. I still have that light, too, flaring as bright as a lighthouse on the Jersey shore.
Joey leans forward, his hands clinging to the dash as the perp we’ve chased down for the last twelve blocks cuts a hard right and dashes down a cross street. Twice he’s slipped into the alleyways, trying to disappear. He’s local and knows the streets. Thing is, I know them, too. So each time Joey’s cursed, thinking we’ve lost him, I’ve kept my focus, forcing him back out where we could see him.
Our flashing strobe of blue and red smacks against his back. We’re getting closer. “Robbery suspect on the run near Stewart and Monroe,” I bark into the radio. “Officers O’Brien and Supreski in pursuit.”
I stomp on the brakes when we veer into the cross street and I catch sight of a door to an old warehouse slamming shut. “Suspect entered Old Mill Cannery at Stewart and Monroe, request backup. Suspect in black hood, dark jeans, possibly armed, repeat, possibly armed.”
“Roger that. Available units to Stewart and Monroe…”
Joey hits the ground running. “Supreski, wait.”
Joey flattens his back against the wall of the building. “Come on, he’s just a kid. We got this, O’Brien.”
I take the opposite side, leaning hard against the old brick. “Calm your shit,” I spit out. I know what he’s thinking, ’cause I’m thinking it, too. The perp’s a teen, a little guy. Probably trying to make a name for himself on the street. We’ve already cuffed his two older friends who’d held up the old mom-and-pop shop, left them with our backup, and tore after this guy.
“He’s gonna get away,” Joey snaps.
“No, we got this.” I count down with my fingers, three-two-one.
I throw open the door and find out just how wrong I am.
—
“Curran? Curran!” Tess’s arms are wrapped around mine, tugging me hard. “Are you all right?”
The hell I am. Pain twists my lungs like a clenching fist and cold sweat pours down my spine. I can’t see shit, which makes things worse. I’m drifting off into that fucking black sea, the one that threatens to pull me under and drown me.
“Curran, can you hear me?”
I clench my teeth. I don’t know where I am. But I know Tess’s voice and feel her presence. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her hand stroking my back. “It’s just a dream, you’re only dreaming.”
No, I’m not, baby.
My chest caves inward. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.
“Shhhh.” Lips pass along my shoulder, pressing soft kisses. “You’re all right. I swear you are.”
I don’t think I am. In fact, I know I’m not. If I were, this pressure building wouldn’t hurt so damn bad.
“I need you to wake up, okay?” she whispers. “Wake up for me.”
Nothing makes sense; my head’s spinning from lack of air. But I can hear her. She’s my lifeline, the one I grab when the agonizing second wave hits.
Son of a bitch.
It’s like something is pulling my ribs apart, cracking my bones to rip out my lungs and leave me barren. “Curran, stay with me. Please stay with me, sweetie.”
I force the pain away and I latch on to Tess—the intimacy of her voice, the warmth of her skin, and the subtle scent of her perfume, allowing every part of her to haul me back up and out of the darkness.
Slowly, that tightening fist releases its vicious hold.
I concentrate on breathing when I drag that first gulp of air deep into my lungs, allowing those soft kisses Tess trails along the curve of my neck to soothe me. She abandons my arm to wrap both of hers carefully over my shoulders. “Shhh,” she says quietly. “It’s okay.”
Lu’s right; it sure as shit isn’t okay. But I can’t let Tess know that, not now. Instead of answering, I work to draw in more air.
In the time it takes for me to calm, the cold creeping in from the windows cools my sweat-soaked body. Jesus. It feels like my skin is covered in a layer of frost.
“Do you have any water?” I ask, my throat so raw I want to claw at it.
“Yes, wait here.” She kisses my cheek and slips out of bed, pulling her nightshirt over her head. I watch her walk away, listening to her fumble around in the kitchen. The motor on her ice machine rattles as it spits out the cubes into a glass.
Clink. Clink.
I ram my eyes shut. That sound is too similar to empty bullet shells hitting the concrete floor. Get it together, asshole. Get it together now.
Tess hurries back in. She hands me a glass and takes a seat beside me, her fingertips stroking lightly against my back. She waits for me to down every last drop before she speaks. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. Just a nightmare—that’s all.”
She hesitates, as if trying not to upset me. “Involving your line of work?”
My sight adjusts enough to catch the worry in her face. I keep my expression neutral as I mull over what to say. My first instinct is to lie. The thing is, I’m not sure what I said or did in my sleep. For all I know, I could have told her more than I wanted her to hear.
“It’s a tough gig,” I admit.
She nods carefully and reaches for the empty glass. “Do you want some more water?”
Water is the last thing I want. It was cold like the room, and only added to the sub-zero temperature shoving its way through my bloodstream. I take a strand of her hair and run it through my fingers. It’s soft, like the rest of her. Maybe she’s what I need, then. “I’m good,” I tell her.
“I don’t think you are.” She lifts her hand and strokes the side of my temple. “I want to help you, but I’m not sure how.”
She’d put her glasses back on, the tiny square ones. I didn’t notice her do that before she went into the kitchen, but I notice them now. They’re sexy on her. Hell, everything’s sexy on her. But considering what I plan to do, they’ll only get in my way.
I pinch the stems on the sides and carefully lift the glasses off her face. Tess watches me fold them and place them on her nightstand before pegging me with an inviting look that begs me to touch her.
So I do.
I haul her to me, flipping her onto her back and taking her mouth like I own it. She squealed with surprise when I grabbed her, but those squeaks turn to whimpers when I shove my hand under her shirt and find her nipples.
A few tugs, that’s all it takes to tighten her already stiff nipples into fine points. Her moans against my mouth deepen, sounding pained, but I know better. My tongue works hers and my hand pays close attention to her breasts. I need her to be louder. Loud makes me hard, loud makes me forget, forget everything but her.
My fingers clamp down, causing her breath to hitch. She barely hangs on to our kiss.
You want me, don’t you, angel face?
I repeat the motion on the other side, inciting a small cry.
Yeah…I want you, too.
I don’t know what time it is. Don’t care, either. All I know is that I’m not done playing. I run my hand down her soft belly, feeling the muscles tense against my palm the lower I go. She knows what’s coming. Her back arches when my fingers linger over that sweet spot my tongue had licked like candy.
My turns are slow at first; I don’t want to hurt her. But as the mild dryness fades and her folds grow slicker, my movements become faster.
She pushes up on her arm, reaching for me, her cries barely allowing our kiss to continue. I jolt when she takes hold of me. Damn, I’m so hard and so ready to ram into her, but then I remember she’s not on the Pill.
I grunt, from frustration and from how fast she’s working me. Yeah, no way are we done here.
Two fingers, that’s how many slip inside, hooking just enough to find my mark. She can’t take it and finally breaks our kiss, her eyelids heavy with lust. She clenches her teeth in that sexy way that tells me she’s almost there. Her grip tightens around me, moving fast, matching the speed of my hand, her eyes begging me to join her.
She’s the first to succumb. I practically lose it when she screams with pleasure, her body convulsing and her thighs batting my hand when she comes. “That’s it, baby,” I pant. “Just like that. Give me more.”
Her lids flutter as she surrenders. But she thinks I’m telling her what I want her to do to me and falls forward—onto my lap, her lips seeking me just above her hand.
I thought I’d last longer and drag a few more screams out of her. But I don’t stand a chance against that mouth. I moan, gathering her hair as she moves up and down. Again she finishes me, causing my spine to snap back from the force.
The room fills with my loud grunts. I try to back away, to give her room. She refuses the offer, and hell, I stop trying.
With those lips of hers and that crazy suction, I’ll admit, I don’t try very hard.
She releases me, lowering herself to rest against my lap, her breaths as out of control as mine. Spots dance in my vision, and my head lolls back. Yeah, no one’s ever rocked my world like Tess.
