by Cara Summers
“I figured we could run a little experiment and test my theory to see if real sex is better than phone sex. What do you think of that?”
She wasn’t thinking. How could she when heat was coursing through her? He was barely touching her, but her insides were melting. And if she was recalling her chemistry studies correctly, it would only be a matter of time until she evaporated.
He slipped two fingers between her legs and pressed up hard.
Sensation—huge waves of it—shot through her. As he withdrew his fingers, her body arched trying to maintain the contact for as long as possible.
“Ryder.”
The breathless way she said his name started a drumbeat in Ryder’s head that tore at his control. He heard her surrender in the sound, saw it in those fathomless blue eyes. He’d barely touched her, and she was his. The power of that simple realization sang through him.
If he kissed her now, there would be that instant fire. He felt it searing his nerve endings. He could have her right now, right against the wall where they stood. He was skilled enough and she was ready. The sex would be hot and hard. Wonderful.
And wrong for her. Ryder gave his head a little shake to rid it of the images that had tumbled in. He’d seen that vulnerable look in her eyes—that fear that she’d fail. So he’d go slowly with her this first time. He might not be good at planning, but he would do his best to stick to this one.
Ryder drew in a deep breath and felt it turn to steam in his lungs. To keep his hands as well as his mind occupied, he unsnapped her slacks and then pushed them to the floor. When he caught a glimpse of the white lace thong, his own breath hitched.
“Doc, you’re killing me here,” he murmured as he ran a finger along the thin band of lace that curved beneath her navel. “I feel like it’s my birthday, and I just opened the best present ever.”
“You can thank my sister Rory for them,” she said.
“I will indeed.” It took some effort, but he managed to draw both his hand and his gaze away from the bit of nothing that was covering her. “I’m not good at plans, but I had one when we came in here.”
Once more he fought off the impulse to grab her, to lift her so that she could wrap those long legs around him again and he could take her right where they stood.
Her eyes, the deep-blue color of a calm sea at twilight, were steady on his. Raising his hands, he touched only her hair, threading his fingers through it the way he’d been wanting to.
“I think in our phone conversation I started here.” He kept his eyes on hers as he traced one finger down her throat. “Your skin is so delicate here. I can feel your pulse pushing against my finger,” he said, echoing the words he’d used during the phone call.
She could feel it, too. Her whole body was reaching out to him, yearning. She trembled as he brushed his fingers over the lace that covered the tops of her breasts. Little explosions of pleasure shot along her nerve endings. Then he was circling his thumbs ever so lightly over her nipples. She felt them harden, straining for a closer, firmer contact.
“Is this as good as you imagined when we were talking on the phone?” he asked.
She had to gather her thoughts and struggled to form the word. “Better.”
“Good.”
Then he began the whole process over again with his mouth. Shudders moved through her as he used his tongue on the pulse at her throat. His mouth was hot and so soft. The sudden scrape of his teeth along her collarbone had her gasping his name.
“This wasn’t part of the original scenario,” Ryder murmured as he moved his mouth lower. The warmth of his breath on her skin sent spears of heat right to her center.
“Sometimes there’s value in going with the flow. Wouldn’t you say?”
Yes. She would have said it if she could have. But her breath backed up in her throat as he slid his tongue beneath the lace that rode along the tops of her breasts. She knew she was still standing, her feet on the floor, her back against the wall, but Sierra would have sworn she was floating, suspended somewhere above the floor, as he continued to sample her as if she were a delicacy he’d been craving.
At long last, he shoved the lace aside and took the tip of one breast into his mouth.
She shuddered and arched her body.
Even as he turned his attention to her other breast, his hand moved lower to trace the lace ribbon of the thong where it disappeared between her legs.
“Ryder.” She wasn’t sure if she moaned or said the word.
“You fascinate me, Dr. Gibbs.”
Sierra sighed, seduced by the words as much as his touch.
He retraced the ribbon of the thong again and again.
“Please.” This time she heard the breathless sound of the word.
“Do you want me to touch you inside?”
“Yes.”
He pushed lace aside, parted her and felt her close around his finger as he entered. She was so hot, so wet, and even tighter than he’d imagined. Struggling against the need to rush, Ryder withdrew his finger.
“No,” she protested.
“Shhh,” he murmured as he slid two fingers into her, then curved them and began to explore. When he thought he had the right spot, he began to rub.
She arched against him. “Ryder, I…can’t…”
“Yes, you can.” Keeping the pressure steady, he increased the pace. “Let loose, Doc. C’mon. Come for me.”
She cried his name as her whole body stiffened. He watched as the climax moved through her and finally peaked. Then he caught her against him when her body went weak.
Once again two competing needs spiked inside him. He wanted to drag her to the floor and pound himself into her. But he also wanted to give her more. He wanted to give them both more. Holding her close, he sank with her to the floor. Then he positioned himself between her legs and began to use his mouth on her. Her dark, rich flavor filled him, drugged him, and sapped his control. When her body bowed as she tried to reach for her next climax, he clamped his hands on her thighs and drew back.
She gasped his name, and he knew that her quick, agile mind was thinking only of him. Feeling intensely powerful, he leaned forward and began to taste her again.
SHE COULDN’T THINK. The sensations were so sharp, the world he’d shot her into so airless. She’d never known her response could be this intense, this nuanced. She’d thought that there couldn’t be any more, that she was sated, but with his teeth and tongue and lips he was tempting her to reach for more.
But it was just beyond her grasp. Each time she came close, he withdrew until the possibility passed.
“Please.” She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to go on.
“Just a little longer,” he murmured.
He continued to hold her right there on the edge where the promise of pleasure fueled an almost intolerable greed.
She wanted, no she needed more. But that clever, wicked mouth only teased and promised.
“Soon,” he taunted. But at the last moment, he pressed his hands hard against her thighs and once more withdrew his mouth. A moment later, he left her entirely. The shock of it, the loss tore through her.
“Do you want me inside you, Sierra?”
“Yes.” Opening her eyes, she saw that he’d risen to his knees. He’d shoved his jeans down and was sheathing himself in a condom. Strength poured through her, and she got to her knees.
“Come,” he murmured as he reached for her.
Grabbing hold of his shoulders, she positioned herself so that she was straddling him. Together, they lifted her hips so that he was just pressing against her entrance. His fingers gripped her hard, but she used gravity to lower herself onto him.
He drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She sank a bit lower. “You will if you don’t hurry.”
His laugh was short, harsh. “I’m afraid I’ll be in too much of a hurry. I want to take this slow and easy.”
This time it was her turn to take a sharp breath as she
lowered herself even farther. “Fast…I want fast.”
Ryder felt his choices and his control slipping as she wiggled until he was filling her to the hilt. Then he began to move.
A moment later, she was moving with him, matching his thrusts, and crying out his name. He watched her ride out the climax, holding his own back. He wanted to capture this image of her in his mind. When he felt her go limp, he held her close. But it seemed only seconds passed before she began to move again, gripping his hips and pistoning herself on him.
He could have sworn that he heard something inside himself snap. Then he was moving too, driving himself deeper and deeper into her until he knew nothing but a dark explosion of pleasure.
THE ROOM was quiet except for the sound of breathing and the soft lap of the water against the side of the boat. Those details were the first sign to Sierra that her mind was beginning to clear. She and Ryder were lying on the floor, tucked together like spoons. Sunlight was pouring through the window behind them. She could feel the warmth of it on her shoulder and legs, but it couldn’t compete with the heat radiating from the hard length of Ryder’s body, pressed against her backside. His arms were wrapped securely around her, and she’d never felt better in her life.
If it hadn’t meant moving, she would have searched for her bag and dug out a note card so that she could list what she’d done and what she’d felt. And what Ryder had done to her. She never wanted to forget a second of it. But she didn’t want to move either. She could have lain just like this for hours. Perhaps she already had?
The thought had other details flooding into her mind— Mark Anderson’s disappearance, the shooting, the escape from her apartment. And the key.
“Are you all right?” Ryder levered himself up and turned her so that he could see her face.
“Yes. I’m fine. I just—”
He moved his hands to her shoulders. “You’re all tense. Was I too rough with you?”
“No. You were…amazing. I—” She hesitated when the thought occurred to her that perhaps the experience hadn’t been as amazing to him. “Was it…I mean…did you enjoy it?”
He smiled slowly before he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “Do you want me to give you a grade, Doc? Maybe rate you on a scale of one to ten?”
She stiffened until his lips pressed more firmly against hers. He took the kiss deeper, and she felt her muscles melt and her bones begin to soften. No one had ever made her feel this way with a kiss.
When he finally raised his head, he waited until she met his eyes and said, “I enjoyed it so much that I can’t wait to try another position.” He sighed. “But I think it’s time to put your compartmentalizing plan into use and get to that second favor you asked for.”
A cell phone rang, and Ryder reached for his jeans. After extracting it, he raised it to his ear. “Ryder here.”
Sierra studied him in the ensuing silence. Whatever the news was, it didn’t look good. Glancing at her, he mouthed, “Matt Ramsey.”
Then he said into the phone, “Keep it out of the papers. And I’ll post a guard at his door twenty-four/seven. Yeah. I’ll keep you posted.”
“What?” she asked the moment he closed his cell.
“A jogger found Mark Anderson lying in the woods off one of the bicycle paths in Rock Creek Park. He’s alive, but barely. Ramsey’s going to keep it out of the papers. He’ll call me as soon as they know more.”
As he began to gather up his scattered clothes, Sierra rose and went to the dresser to rummage through her canvas bag. “I just remembered. I have something that I didn’t give the police. I just found it this morning. It must have dropped out of the book Mark handed me.”
Ryder took the key from her outstretched palm and studied it. “Number 123. Looks like it belongs to one of those lockers where you put in money and then take out the key.”
“The question is which locker?”
“Yeah.”
“And what’s in the locker that Mark would give you the key?” Sierra asked.
“Something that he didn’t want the thugs following him to get their hands on. Which means even though they snatched him, they’re still looking for something. That would explain why they trashed his apartment and erased files on his office computer. And why they searched your place last night. They don’t have what they want yet.”
“It has to be the story he’s working on. They obviously don’t want anyone to know about it.”
Ryder tossed the key into the air and caught it in his palm. “When he called to cancel our first meeting at the Blue Pepper, I caught the words hot and political.”
“I’m betting he kept notes. I always take notes when I do research.”
“If that’s what’s in the locker, we have to find them before our competitors do. And we have to work fast because he may have told them where the locker is.”
“But they don’t have the key,” Sierra pointed out. “He wanted you to have the key.”
“And he also left me something that might help us figure out where the locker is.”
“What?”
He fished the Palm Pilot out of his jeans pocket. “Just a little something that I didn’t hand over to the police either. Mark managed to drop this before they shoved him into that van. It’s got his appointment schedule in it.”
“Do you have any idea where the locker is?”
“Not yet. I skimmed through his schedule last night and took some notes. I’m willing to bet it’s somewhere between the newspaper office and the Capitol. Or it’s close to the Blue Pepper. He probably had to stash whatever it is in a hurry. We’ll try to figure it out over breakfast.” Taking her shoulders, he gave her a little push toward the shower. “A smart lady I know said that two heads are better than one for that kind of stuff.”
When he followed her into the shower and turned the spray on, she said, “I’ve never showered with a man before.”
“Want me to leave?”
She moved toward him and placed a hand on his chest. “I’m thinking that two heads might be better than one when it comes to showering too.”
“I think we’re on the same page there, Doc. But we wouldn’t want to jump to conclusions without testing the theory.” Drawing her with him, he stepped into the spray. Then he leaned down and said. “I just thought of a new position we ought to test out, too.”
She laughed as he lifted her and pressed her against the shower wall.
9
RYDER LOVED PUZZLES, and the woman seated across from him dipping a French fry delicately in ketchup was the most intriguing one he’d run into in his whole life. She’d barely said a word on the drive to the shopping mall on the outskirts of DC. He’d spent most of the time on his cell phone arranging to have his men cover Mark Anderson’s hospital room and collecting reports from the assignments he’d given them.
Most women would have peppered him with questions each time he’d finished a call. Instead, Sierra had found a classical music station on the car radio to help her think. Though she’d leaned back and closed her eyes, he had almost heard that first-class brain of hers clicking along at warp speed. In between his phone calls, he’d found the silence that stretched between them…companionable.
Although he’d never worked with a partner in his life, and certainly not one he was supposed to be protecting, he was beginning to feel at ease with her. Why? That, he was going to figure out. Just as he was going to figure her out.
Right now she was chewing on her bottom lip and frowning down at a street map of DC she’d picked up at a mall kiosk. At noon, the food court was busy. Above the noise of conversations and a thoroughly disgruntled baby at a nearby table came the sound of canned music. He was pretty sure that Sierra had isolated herself from all of it.
From what she’d said and what he’d observed, she’d led a pretty isolated life so far. And now because he’d agreed to do two favors for her, he was put in the position of drawing her out of the cocoon she’d wrapped herself in and setting her fre
e. The prospect of that intrigued him. It also scared the hell out of him because something told him that Sierra wasn’t the only one who would change during the process.
She’d spread the street map out on one side of the food in front of her, and a blue note card sat on the other side. She’d left the canvas bag in the car, but she’d brought one of the note cards with her. Every so often, she would take a bite of her cheeseburger or reach for a French fry. Then she’d jot another note down on her card.
She’d explained when she picked up the map that she was going to go over Mark’s appointment schedule and then trace the possible routes he’d taken the day he was snatched.
“Any ideas yet about where we’re going to find the lock that the key fits?” he asked.
She set down her half-eaten cheeseburger and picked up the Palm Pilot he’d given her, which shared Mark’s schedule for the day he’d been shoved into the van. “For 10:00 a.m. it says the Esquire Health and Fitness Club.”
“I did some checking. The Esquire is a club that caters to political bigwigs—members of the Senate and House, ambassadors from other countries, visiting dignitaries. Mark isn’t a member.”
“He could have been an invited guest.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“At three, he had a meeting with someone at Le Printemps,” Sierra said.
“That’s an exclusive hotel that prides itself on offering privacy to guests.”
Sierra nodded. “I’ve been there. My sister Rory’s fiancé is thinking of buying it because they met for the first time there in the lobby. I wonder who Mark met.”
“Yeah. We’re going to check it out.”
“And at five, he wrote down the Blue Pepper. That was his meeting with you.” She turned the map around so that he could read it. “I’ve marked the possible routes between those places. What’s your best guess for the location of the locker?”
“Union Station.” Ryder tapped a finger on the map. “It’s right there almost on a direct line between the Esquire Club and Le Printemps.”
“I thought of that, but if he knew he was being followed that last day, a stop at Union Station might raise suspicions. I’m wondering what kind of lockers they have at the Esquire.”
