by Addison Fox
His fingers drifted from the heavy globes of her breasts over the flat planes of her stomach before settling between her thighs. Her eyes widened at his touch and she gripped his shoulders as he delved into the warmth at her core. Her soft cries encouraged him and he kept his motions firm against her pliant skin.
“I want to watch you, Kensington.”
“Jack.” She uttered his name on another breathy whisper and her gaze locked on his. “It’s too much.”
He increased the pressure slightly, pleased when another layer of passion filled that liquid blue gaze. “You’re so beautiful. Show me what you feel.”
Before he could say another word, he felt her clench around his fingers, the sensation matched by the pressure of her hands on his shoulders as her world shattered.
Long, gorgeous moments passed as he dragged every ounce of pleasure from her flesh.
And as she drew his head down to hers for a long, soul-searing kiss, Jack felt the hard, unyielding part of himself crumble to dust.
* * *
Kensington kept her arms locked around Jack’s neck, desperate to show him with her kiss what he did to her. She wasn’t an innocent, but she was cautious about who she let in.
And never before had she experienced anything like this.
He’d branded her, plain and simple.
Branded her with his words and his touch, with his lips and his gentle, determined push to take everything she had and more. Her body still quivered from her explosive orgasm at his hands, delicious shivers quaking through her nerve endings as the rush subsided.
He lifted his head, the smile on his face broad as he looked down at her. For a moment, Kensington simply looked her fill, silence more powerful than any words. Bright sunlight filled the room, the vivid light of a late-winter’s afternoon bathing them in its glow.
She ran her hands over his shoulders, surprised to realize he was still covered. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“I had impeccable timing finding you just after your shower.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” With nimble fingers, she tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, dragging the material up the thick lines of his body. The same heavy ropes of muscles she’d admired that morning flexed under her fingertips as she removed his shirt.
When she reached for the snap on his slacks, he stilled her hands with his. “I’ll get it.”
“Spoilsport.”
A lopsided grin filled his face as he rolled off the bed. “Eminently practical. You make the wrong move and I may ruin what’s still to come.”
“Well, when you put it that way—” Kensington left the word to hover there and lifted her arms in a stretch. A shot of heat arrowed toward her core at the appreciation she saw reflected in Jack’s eyes at the sensuous movements.
“You’re really trying to kill me.”
“I’d prefer to think of myself as opportunistically taking advantage of your current weakness.”
His pants fell to the floor and he kicked his legs out of them before reaching for the waistband of his briefs. His heavy arousal was evident through the material, but even that didn’t prepare her for the sight of him fully naked.
Magnificent was the only term she could come up with as her mouth went dry and even that adjective was inadequate.
Wholly inadequate, she was forced to acknowledge as he came down over top of her once more.
“Now,” he pressed his lips against her ear as his body pressed against hers, “what was that you mentioned about opportunity?”
“Let me see if I can refresh your memory.” She pressed against his shoulders until they lay on their sides facing each other, then snaked her hand down between them, capturing his thick erection. His body tightened reflexively, but it was the sharp intake of breath as he pressed himself into her hand that had her smiling.
“I think opportunity just knocked.” His voice was dark and heavy, arousal vibrating in every word, but she couldn’t hold back the joyful shot of laughter that lit her up.
“You’re a funny one, Andrews.”
“And you’re amazing, Kensington Steele.”
The light humor faded as the demands of the moment caught them both. She wanted to stop and savor the feeling of simply being together but knew the need that had gripped both of them demanded satisfaction.
She ran her hand over the length of him once more, the throbbing flesh in her fingers and the sheen of sweat that broke out over his flesh ready confirmation of Jack’s pleasure.
With tight strokes, she demanded all.
And only when she’d pressed him to his limits and beyond did his hand wrap around hers, his breath strained and his words ragged with need. “Not yet.”
Before she could coax him further, he’d shifted, reaching for his pants on the floor. A lightly muttered oath when he fumbled his wallet had her smiling, the sweetness of the moment not lost on her.
He was as affected as she was.
His hands shook when he surfaced from his hunt through his clothing and she took the condom from his hands, the light tremble in his fingers warming her as she tore the foil. She made quick work of the condom, surprised to find her own fingers trembling as she covered his length.
And then she gave herself to the moment, wrapping her arms around him, and simply hung on for the ride.
The passion that he’d kept tightly leashed shattered and he filled her in long, sure strokes. Pleasure spiraled through her body, taking her up and pressing her on once more with its raw power. She met him, her hips rising to meet each of his thrusts, matching the rhythm he set for them both.
Kensington was vaguely aware of the soft cries that escaped her throat as the pleasure built, but she was too lost in the moment to concentrate on any one piece of the sensual onslaught. She pressed her fingers into the hard globes of his buttocks, pulling him closer each time he thrust.
And only when the telltale signs of her response began deep inside—and she felt him answer in the further tightening of his muscles—did she let go, reaching once more for the exquisite pleasure only he could give.
A heavy, exultant shout matched his last thrust and she took him in, welcoming his heavy weight and complete vulnerability in her arms.
As they lay there wrapped up in each other, their breathing still heavy with exertion, she marveled at what he’d drawn from her.
A desire she’d wondered herself incapable of swamped her in a tangle of thoughts and needs and feelings, thick with all the things she’d worked so hard to keep buried. With a surprising amount of ease, Jack had opened the tight lock she kept around her heart.
And Kensington wasn’t sure it could ever be closed.
Chapter 16
Kensington awoke slowly, the dark sky outside her window the only proof that they’d slept. The days had gotten progressively shorter as winter descended and she estimated the subtle twilight still outside her window meant it was late afternoon.
Her stomach let out a loud growl and she amended her estimate to early evening.
The hard lines of Jack’s body cradled her and she ran her index finger in lazy circles over his biceps. His flesh was soft to the touch, but the muscle underneath was firm. Implacable.
Just like the man.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she used the quiet moments to observe him at her leisure. He was a big man—broad and capable—so it was with no small measure of surprise to find him so fit. Now that she’d seen and touched every inch of him, the long ropes of muscles over his large frame indicated a man who kept himself in prime condition.
Unable to stop herself, she shifted her explorations to the muscles over his stomach. She traced the lines of his ribs, then moved on to the curved muscles above his belly button. The hard, muscular ridges contracted at her touch, the warm fles
h puckering slightly with goose bumps.
“That feels good but it tickles.” His hand stilled her movement as his lips curved into a smile against her temple.
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I’m not.” The smile broadened before he shifted and nuzzled his lips to her neck. His hand stayed solid over her palm before he pressed her to explore farther south.
A different line of muscle greeted her as her fingers closed over the long length of him and she couldn’t hold back a smile of her own. “Calculating, Mr. Andrews. Nicely done.”
She traced him from base to tip, the sharp intake of breath and the tightening of those stomach muscles she’d so recently explored the very real evidence of his arousal.
“You know—” she whispered the words against his earlobe “—I’m not sure all this activity is good for your wound. You really should be resting.”
His hand covered hers once more, his fingers holding her firmly in place before he rearranged them against his body. “Woman, if you leave this bed, I’ll simply drag you right back until you finish.”
“Well, then. It’s a good thing I wouldn’t do that.”
The darker thoughts that flitted through her mind earlier vanished under the sexy banter. The time in his arms—and the sheer joy of being together—was better than she could have imagined.
“You wouldn’t?”
“Absolutely not. I’m a woman who sees every job all the way through to the end.” The breathy, seductive words were a revelation and Kensington couldn’t hold back a smile.
But it was the complete abandonment to the moment—and the joy of playing the temptress—that had a sense of freedom coursing through her veins as she made good on her promise.
* * *
Jack poured a rich red Chianti into Kensington’s wineglass as she finished up her order. Once their waiter departed, he handed her the glass, then lifted his own for a toast. “To an amazing afternoon with an amazing woman.”
A light blush crept up her cheeks as she clinked her glass against his. “I’ll second that.”
The blush only heightened the healthy pink glow in her cheeks and Jack was absurdly pleased to know he’d put it there. He had no idea where the caveman urges had some from, but he had no interest in changing his attitude. The woman had gotten into his blood and he felt too damn good to question the reasons why.
“What did Marco say when you talked with him?”
The sudden shift to business had him faltering for a moment, but he quickly righted himself. “He’s feeling better and he’s happy to talk to us in the morning. He’s also sick to death of his hospital bed and sounded like he’s more than ready for something to occupy his mind.”
“Good. That boredom’s a sign he’s on the road to recovery.” Kensington tore off a piece of bread from a hot, crusty loaf their waiter had left behind and toyed with the edge. “What did he say when you told him about our suspicions about Keene?”
That dull edge of annoyance sharpened ever so slightly and he tried to push it aside as he reached for his own piece of bread. They did have a job to do and he’d called Marco while she’d gotten ready for dinner.
So why did her interest prick at his ego?
“It was a surprise to him. Apparently he had vetted Keene through several sources early on and nothing popped.”
“Maybe he wasn’t looking in the right places. I’ll take a look when we get back to the hotel.”
“I had other ideas for when we got back to the hotel.”
That blush returned, but with it a subtle darkening of her eyes. “We can’t lose focus on this. I appreciated the afternoon distraction, but I need to get those runs down on Keene. I’ll carb load here at dinner and then get to work.”
Distraction?
“You sound like you’re running a marathon.” His words came out with a clipped edge he hadn’t intended and he reached for his glass of water to sooth his throat.
“A mental one, at least.”
“For the record, I don’t know that you’re going to find a heck of a lot on Keene. The man hasn’t tripped anyone’s trigger for a reason.”
“I have my ways.” Her eyes twinkled over the rim of her wineglass before she took a sip.
“Yeah, well, clearly so does he.”
“Way to motivate your partner, Jack.” She tore off another piece of bread before offering him a small smile.
“Am I a partner or a distraction?”
The words shot out as if from a cannon, landing squarely in the center of the table. A dull, oafish sense of playing the fool flooded his senses but there was no way he could take it back.
“I’m sorry if my multitasking offends your manly sensibilities.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Oh, no?”
“Of course not.”
“I have brothers. I get it. I should be sitting here in a rapturous glow, staring at you with adoring eyes with nothing on my mind except how fast we can get back into bed.”
Even though she’d practically hit a bull’s-eye, he couldn’t quite acknowledge he was that big of an ass. So he reached for her hand instead. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of adoration. Especially since I can’t seem to get my mind off of anything but you.”
“Oh.” The teasing note left her eyes, replaced by a light sheen of tears. “That’s so sweet.”
“Until I messed it up by acting like a caveman.”
A lone tear slipped down the side of her cheek and she brushed it away before that gorgeous smile returned to light up her face. “I like your caveman. And I had an amazing time this afternoon and I’m quite anxious to repeat it. You know, in case you were wondering.”
He hadn’t asked—or sought—approval from a woman in his entire adult life, so the fact that he felt such an overwhelming sense of relief was as shocking as it was awkward. “I had an amazing time, too.”
“Then we’re agreed.”
“On what?”
“On how it’s time we refocused on this case. There’ll be time enough for—” she broke off as if suddenly aware of the permanence her words implied. “There’ll be time enough for talking about us when this is finished.”
“If you want to get all girly about it and, you know, talk about your feelings. Sure. We’ll discuss it then.”
The joke hit its mark and her tossed napkin hit him square on the head. “Ha ha, Mr. Caveman.”
Their waiter arrived and placed their steaming plates of pasta on the table. He refilled their wineglasses, then departed after the assurance they didn’t need anything else.
Jack dug into his pasta, the luscious smells redirecting some of his earlier angst toward his growling stomach. “My sisters will probably give you the third degree, but I’ll get them to go easy.”
“What?”
He had his pasta twirled around a fork and halfway toward his mouth before he realized Kensington sat and stared at him, her plate untouched. “What is it?”
“You want me to meet your sisters?”
As he listened to his own words wing back at him, he knew with absolute certainty he wanted to bring her home to meet his family. “Well, yeah. They’re nosy as all get-out but they’re wonderful. They’ll love you.”
“I’d like that. Very much.”
* * *
A few hours later, after pasta, cappuccino and a shared tiramisu that would make angels weep, Jack wrapped his hand around Kensington’s. “It’s a cold night—you sure you don’t want a cab?”
“No way. I need to move after that huge dinner, which I so elegantly ate all of, and it’s a pretty night.”
He nodded and they started off, strolling hand in hand along the winding streets that made up Rome. The air was crisp and sharp, the night sky winking above them.
“Di
d Marco say anything else?”
“No, but he did promise to put out a few feelers. I got the distinct feeling he was thrilled to have something to keep him busy.”
“I can’t believe they haven’t released him yet.”
They entered the long common area of Piazza Navona, their steps leisurely. People were out and about, but foot traffic was definitely light for a Sunday evening in winter and Jack couldn’t get past the simple joy of taking in the night air with her.
It was almost enough to forget the events of the past few days. The gunshots and the discovery of Keene’s potential involvement in what was happening in Pryce’s own home.
The memory of how close they came—and how vulnerable they had been—had his gaze sharpening on the edge of the square. “The Palazzo Altemps is just outside the north end of the piazza. We should take a few minutes to check it out, without Dante and his men swirling around us. See if there’re any areas we want to call to his attention so he can beef up security for Pryce’s event.”
“Agreed, but can we stop at the fountain first?”
She wrapped her arm around his waist and he used the movement to pull her close under his good arm. “What would a trip to a Roman piazza be without a visit to a fountain?”
“Exactly.”
They kept up their stroll, the warmth of their connected bodies staving off the cold. The air around the running fountain was cool when they approached it, the slight mist from the water icy on the night air.
Kensington pointed toward the large statue, an obelisk standing tall from its center. “This is one of my favorites. It can’t compete with the Trevi Fountain, but it’s pretty great in its own right.”
“This fountain had a lot of controversy when it was unveiled in the seventeenth century.”
“Funny how no one likes art when the people are starving.”
He stared down at her, fascinated again by her depth of knowledge on so many subjects. “You know that story?”
“Oh, yes. Bernini created the statue for Pope Innocent the Tenth, but it was done at the expense of the Romans as a public project. Rome was experiencing a famine at the time so spending money on some carved rocks wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time.”
