JUDGING ELLIE

by Catherine Snodgrass

  She brushed against his throbbing crotch. A jolt of electricity shot up his spine and he pressed, involuntarily, against her, reveling in the sensations that contact provided.

  "Wait…" she said, her lips touching his collarbone. "Kurt, I don’t know if this is a good…" She sucked in a breath as he cupped her buttocks with both hands and pressed his stiffness into her again, maintaining the pressure.

  "Nothing’s wrong. It is a good idea, Ellie. One of the best I’ve had in a long time."

  Kurt knew what he was doing wasn’t necessary to the investigation. He knew it would be possible to search the house without seducing this woman. He knew he was losing his objectivity and his control. His mind understood these things, but his body overrode any practical thoughts. All he wanted was to bury himself inside Ellie and ride out their passions.

  "Unbutton my shirt," he urged harshly.

  She loosed the buttons of his soft silken dress shirt, and flung it open, exposing his chest and stomach. He shrugged out of the sleeves, letting it puddle in a heap behind him.

  "You’re so…beautiful." She lightly ran her fingers from his shoulders down over his flat nipples to the waistband of his trousers. "I wonder if you taste as good as you look."

  Ellie leaned down and flicked her tongue over his chest, teasing his pectoral muscles and finding the groove in between. She ran her tongue in a thick wet line down his chest. "Mmm. You taste and smell like warm sandalwood…and vanilla." She rested her warm cheek against his heaving stomach. "More?"

  Kurt was reaching the end of his limits. He had to get control, but her warm tongue was burning down his abdomen and teasing the faint line of hair where it met the top of his black slacks.

  She slipped the top button out of its loop and deftly slid his zipper down, her breath warm against his stomach. He watched, paralyzed, as she slid her fingers down past the elastic waistband of his cotton boxer shorts and freed the hard, gleaming length of him from confinement. Then she wrapped her hand around him.

  "Oh, God," he gasped.

  "You feel like hot silk." She stroked him again.

  He jerked beneath her touch.

  The last remnants of sanity were fading fast beneath her expert touch. He had to regain control.

  Pushing her gently onto her back on the soft carpet, he lowered himself and began a slow, deliberate exploration of her long, muscular legs and curvaceous calves. She raised up on her elbows to watch him, the strands of her hair angled across her face. Her body was smooth and warm to his touch, and he nibbled his way up her inner thigh until his lips brushed the edge of her white silk panties. He found the scent of her body intoxicating, a clean soapy fragrance mixed with the unique spicy perfume of woman. He cupped her hips with his hands and ran his tongue against the velvet of her thigh.

  She sank back, making small mewling sounds of pleasure, her hips twitching slightly beneath his touch. Her head was tilted so all he could see was the feminine angle of her chin and jaw.

  Delicately, he inserted one finger beneath the band of her panties, stroking the velvet hollow at the thigh’s apex. Her breath hissed out in a long sigh. He ventured further, feeling her moist heat and directing his fingers to the core of that warmth.

  Her breath quickened, a quick gasping that left him in no doubt as to her feelings. He slipped the panties down over her hips and ran his fingers over the soft, dark curls. She was warm, so warm and yielding.

  Kurt found the small nub that was the core of her pleasure. He focused on stroking that center of her womanhood with sure, gentle strokes, each one designed to bring her to the brink of ecstasy and beyond. He waited until her cries were broken, pleading, then he lowered his head and put his mouth over her moist heat. Over and over he licked her until she arched upwards and cried his name, digging her fingers into his shoulders as she reached her pleasure.

  Kurt felt the satisfaction that comes to a man knowing he has given pleasure to a woman. This went beyond that. The contentment on her face, her body limp before the fire, those wondrous sounds that slipped from her lips, made him feel kingly. All he wanted to do was to pound himself deep within her, and bring her up and over once more. Every primitive instinct known to man screamed for him to do it. To know what she felt like, to feel her moist heat wrap him in complete oblivion.

  And the lack of control scared the hell out of him. He was supposed to be in charge.

  Gritting his teeth, Kurt forced himself away and quickly slid his underwear and pants back up over his hips. He wasn’t going to plunge himself into her body tonight, as much as his traitorous body wanted to. He wasn’t prepared for that level of intimacy until he was sure it was he who controlled the situation.

  Ellie lay on her back in a boneless languor, one hand rubbing small circles on her stomach. God, she was beautiful, tempting. His body pulsed, demanding to be appeased. He was rapidly losing this battle of wills. She laughed, a quiet, satisfied chuckle, and reached for him.

  Just one time. He could handle it. One time just to ease the constant aching and he could concentrate on his real business. Condom. He had to have a condom somewhere…

  As she draped her arms around his neck, Kurt wrapped his arm around her waist and stood. Fumbling with his zipper, he pulled them to the chair and straddled her over the most painful erection he’d ever had.

  Ellie smiled and yanked the dress up and over her head. Creamy breasts beckoned.

  Control. He needed control. Grabbing her waist in both hands, Kurt pulled her closer. She raked her body along his length and pleasure shot through him. He grabbed her buttocks. He was in control, not her.

  Yeah…right.

  She shifted again, just where he needed her to be. He sucked in a breath, then glanced over her shoulder to the world beyond in one last desperate attempt to master the situation. He froze at the sight of a pale face peering in the bay window.

  Someone was watching them make love.

  Chapter 8

  * * *

  "Stay down!"

  Kurt shoved her to the floor, yanked up his pants and ran for the door, heedless of the cold or his bare chest. The gust of wind from the door opening and shutting snuffed out the candle on the mantle, leaving only the glow from the small fire to provide light.

  Ellie lay motionless on the rug, the heat from the glowing embers unable to penetrate the confusion and fear that froze her in place. What was going on, and why had Kurt suddenly left her and gone running out into the storm? What had he seen? Damm it, if she could only see!

  Glasses—she had to find her glasses. She could put them on just until Kurt got back, then remove them before he noticed. Being able to see clearly, even if it was only Kurt’s face and the furniture around the fireplace, would be reassuring.

  Ellie pulled on the dress. It was a rude shock to go from having a delicious, spine-tingling orgasm to being left in a disheveled heap on the floor. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, everything was so absurd. The need to do something, anything, took over and she slowly felt her way to the stairs and up to the bedroom.

  Ellie clonked her shin on the bedpost and cursed the power company. Then she added a few choice words for Bernadette as well. Taking all the extra candles, what a witch! It was so dark upstairs she didn’t know if she could even find her glasses. It’d be pure luck if she didn’t end up in the linen closet or the other bedroom that served as her TV room.

  A rumbling purr from the direction of her pillow told her Hades exercised his napping privileges on her bed. It irritated her that he could see quite clearly, where she could not.

  She reached out, concentrating on her sense of touch, and felt along the soft comforter, then over to the wooden night stand. What was that… An empty eyeglass case. She tossed it aside and continued the search, mentally tasking herself to go out and buy several emergency flashlights. And padlock them to the wall.

  Her fingers drifted up and over to the dresser. Two paperback books, an empty tissue box, a rough clay pot where she kept loose change
, and something large that tipped over with a clink when she brushed it with her fingers. The aroma of her favorite jojoba body oil wafted upward.

  "Damn it!" She yanked the bottle upright. Oil was everywhere. She had to clean up the mess before it oozed down the dresser and onto the carpeting.

  The stairs creaked and slow, measured footsteps padded nearer and nearer. She stopped, motionless. Ellie had the sense of someone standing just inside the bedroom door. The hairs on the back of her neck stood upright while she held her breath and strained against the darkness to hear something…anything.

  "Ellie?" the faintest of whispers from the doorway.

  She said nothing, unsure.

  "Ellie, where are you?" Kurt’s rich, soft tones.

  Releasing her breath with a whoosh, Ellie spit out, "I’m here, about seven steps straight in front of you." She was about to ask him to help feel around for her glasses. Vanity kept her quiet. "I came up here to check on Hades."

  "Hades? Oh…your cat." He hesitated and Ellie could easily imagine him cocking his head to one side to listen. "Unless you have a bear in here, I think I can hear him purring."

  Ellie gave a light laugh. "He’s taken up residence on my bed. What happened? Why did you run out into the storm like that?"

  "Didn’t you see anything?"

  Ellie still didn’t want to admit she couldn’t see two inches in front of her face without her glasses. "Yes, well, thanks to you, I wasn’t really focusing very well at that particular moment. What did you see?"

  "Someone was out in your front yard looking in the window at us."

  "While we…" her voice trailed off in horror.

  "Yes." He sounded grim. "While we. I caught a glimpse of a face, but it wasn’t enough to see who it was. The dirt in front of the window is disturbed, but the ground is too dry for footprints. I even checked around the back of your condo, but there was no sign of anyone lurking around. No cars parked nearby. Nothing."

  Ellie felt exposed and sick. "Who would want to do such a horrible thing?"

  "That’s what I wanted to ask you," Kurt replied.

  Ellie thought a moment. "The only person I know who has less scruples than a dog in heat is Bernadette McFee."

  "Your nosy next-door neighbor."

  Ellie fumed. "Yes. I bet she saw you arrive and couldn’t stand not knowing what I was up to. She probably stood out there the entire time, watching and listening to us…" Ellie trailed off, hot with embarrassment that blossomed into outright anger.

  "You know, when you’re angry like that, your voice reminds me of someone, but I can’t quite remember who." He paused. "It’ll come to me eventually."

  Ellie felt the air stir, as if he dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. She heard him take a few steps forward, the carpet compacting beneath his shoes.

  "I can’t see a damn thing." He sounded exasperated. He should be in her shoes—blind as a bat and in the dark. "Let’s go back downstairs where there’s some light. We can talk down there. Reach out and grab my hand."

  Ellie walked toward his voice, hands outstretched. Her palms smacked against the hard plane of his smooth chest. Her fingers, thick with the jojoba oil, slid across his chest, leaving a slick, scented trail.

  He drew in a sharp breath. "What have you got on your hands?" Another breath, this one deep and slow. "It smells good, whatever it is."

  "It’s jojoba body oil. I knocked over a bottle of it by accident when I came up here and forgot it was all over my hands. Now I’ve gotten it all over you. Sorry." She rubbed ineffectively at his skin, trying to smooth away the viscous liquid.

  He sucked in another breath. "Are you sure it was an accident?" His voice was low, raspy. "Maybe you just wanted to finish what we started downstairs." Kurt grabbed her arms and yanked her hard against his body. "And maybe I do, too." He covered her lips with his own.

  He cupped the back of her neck and forced her mouth to press against his. He used his tongue to open her lips and kissed her as if he meant to climb inside. The tingle of his beard against her face was rough, yet exciting at the same time. The scent of their earlier encounter, her own sex, surrounded her, reminding her of how wonderful it had been.

  Ellie’s mind whirled with the force of her feelings. What it was about this man that made her surrender with such abandon? She shoved aside logic and explored his smooth, muscular chest, running her hands along the edge of his collar bones, feeling the heat in his silky skin. A dimple in his left shoulder drew her questing attention, and she dipped her finger into the depression.

  Kurt broke off ravaging her mouth with an indrawn hiss of breath. His body tensed.

  "What is it?" she whispered, and moved her hands down his biceps, trailing oil in her wake.

  "It’s a scar. Still a little sensitive. The doctor says it’s healed, but when you touch it like that, it… What are you doing?" he finished in a rush of breath.

  Ellie nuzzled her way to his flat male aureole. She delicately flicked it with her tongue, and it tightened under her lips. With care, she set her mouth around the outside of his nipple, feeling the hard flesh beneath. Careful not to break the skin, she sank her teeth into Kurt’s chest and felt his body arch against her own.

  "Where did you learn that?" he half-gasped, half-moaned.

  Just putting my reading to good use. She trailed her lips up Kurt’s smooth chest and rested them in the hollow of his neck, breathing in jojoba mixed with his own scents of sandalwood and vanilla.

  "I can’t keep my hands off you." Kurt brushed kisses down her forehead, over her nose, then on her swollen lips. "Now I understand why—"

  A bright light shattered the moment.

  Ellie cried out, throwing up her hands to protect her eyes from the beam that blazed from the doorway.

  "What the hell?" Kurt spun around, shielding Ellie from the intruder.

  She peeked over his shoulder, squinting at a dim blur.

  "Well, well, well." Bernadette’s venomous tongue was laced with sugar. "Our little Eleanor seems to be taking advantage of the power outage."

  "Get that light out of our eyes," Kurt snapped. "Who the hell are you?"

  "My landlady and neighbor—Bernadette." Ellie wanted to crawl under the bed. Bernie would never let her live this down. She’d probably spread the news all over the valley.

  Bernadette angled the flashlight so the beam was pointing down her leg at the floor, highlighting one pristine white sneaker. "I saw a half-naked man running around outside, poking around in the bushes and thought there might be some shenanigans going on in here." She snorted. "Instead of calling the police, I decided I’d just check up on you and make sure you were all right." Her sincerity was patently false. She’d meant to intrude on whatever Ellie was doing, private or not.

  Ellie’s stomach clenched. In the flashlight’s glow, Bernadette could see her wearing the red wig. The hateful woman was sure to comment about it, then Kurt would realize Ellie had deceived him about her true appearance. She had to get the woman out of the room and fast, but she couldn’t think of anything.

  "Eleanor, dear," Bernadette’s voice oozed malice, "I thought you said that was a prop for your church play."

  No time for subtlety. Gathering her courage, Ellie twisted out of Kurt’s protective arms, snatched the open bottle of oil off of the dresser, and sloshed the remaining contents in the direction of Bernadette’s shirt.

  There was a moment of startled silence, then the vituperative landlady shrieked, "You bitch, you evil little bitch, you’ve ruined my Versace blouse! I can’t believe you did that!"

  She brushed ineffectively at her oil-streaked top with one hand. The other, holding the flashlight twitched impotently. "That does it! You are out of this rental property at the end of January. I am not renewing your lease. Period!"

  Spewing rage, Bernadette whirled around and stomped down the stairs, her size two shoes managing to sound like size fourteens. The light from her flashlight bobbed for a moment on the stairwell, then she was gone b
ack to her own condo, leaving them alone again in the pitch black.

  Ellie stood still for a moment, listening to the sound of her own blood pressure hitting the roof. It was time for a showdown.

  "We have to find out if she was the one spying on us through the window, Kurt. If she was, I swear I’m going to feed her a five-finger sandwich with a kick in the shins for dessert." Ellie was so mad she shook. "I’m going over to her house and find out what she saw, then give her a piece of my mind!"

  She fumbled for his hand and when she found it, gave a quick squeeze and a tug, guiding him to the door. Kurt followed without a word. She supposed he sensed her wrath and had sense enough to keep quiet. This was an issue between her and Bernadette, and had been since Ellie arrived.

  She left him in the living room, sitting on the arm of the couch. The firelight made the streaks of oil on his chest glisten, and she briefly considered putting the confrontation off until the morning.

  No. It had to be done now, while she had the momentum to finish.

  "I’ll be back in a few minutes." She offered him a smile she didn’t quite feel at the moment. "I think your shirt is over on the floor near the fireplace."

  His warm laughter followed her into the kitchen.

  The electric door opener had a battery-powered emergency light that was on when she walked into the garage. It gave off enough light that Ellie was able to thread her way around the front of the two cars and over to the door leading into Bernadette’s condo. The cement was cold on her bare feet, but she didn’t care. She raised her hand to knock, then felt a resurgence of anger.

  "Tit for tat," she muttered and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. She shoved it open and charged in.

  "Bernadette! Where the hell are you? I’m coming inside."

  The layout was a mirror image of her own. Unlike her condo, Bernadette’s was aglow with candlelight. Votives lined the kitchen counters and illuminated the doorway into the living room. Ellie noted most of them were her own candles in their holders, filched by her unscrupulous neighbor, the majority already burned down to stubs.