Envy

by J. R. Ward

Chapter 33

 

  Veck didn't track what the pizza tasted like. For all he knew, the thing could have been topped with rubber tires and chunks of plaster.

  He couldn't stop thinking of Reilly up on that bathroom counter, her legs spread, her hand brushing against her core.

  Sitting next to her at the kitchen table, he was pretty sure she was thinking along similar lines, because there was a whole lot of efficiency in the way she ate. Nothing messy or unladylike - just neat and quick.

  He was the same. Except less neat.

  When they'd polished off everything but the last slice, he stretched back in his chair and looked to the ceiling.

  "So where's your bathtub?" he asked, shooting for casual.

  Cue that side smile of hers. The one that made him want to kiss her all over. "I'll show you. Are you going to finish that piece?"

  "No. " Hell, if it hadn't been for her empty stomach grumbling, he never would have slowed down longer than it took to send off the delivery guy. But he'd wanted to make sure she ate. "You?"

  "I'm full. "

  And I'm ready to fill you up, he thought.

  Getting to his feet, he held out his hand to her. "Lead the way. "

  She did just that, taking him up the stairs and into a room that was nothing like the barren box he slept in. Her private space had nice curtains made to fit the three windows, a bed with lots of pillows, and a duvet that looked thick enough to serve as a trampoline.

  Perfect place to make love.

  "The bathroom's through there," she murmured, pointing across the way.

  He walked over, stepped into the darkness, and patted the wall for the switch. When he hit the thing, he nearly dropped to his knees with a prayer of thanks.

  Claw-footed. Deep as a pond. Wide as that bed out there.

  And what did you know, the faucet had enough pressure to power a fire hose.

  As the hot water rushed out and the level began to rise, he pivoted around to call for -

  "Holy . . . fuck . . . " he breathed.

  Reilly had lost her clothes and was standing naked in the doorway.

  Way to short a man's brain out: All he saw was beautiful skin, and perfect breasts, and the swell of those hips he was dying to lock onto.

  As he tried to form a response that didn't involve more curses, or worse, actual drooling, she pulled the tie out of her hair and shook the gloriously red lengths free . . . which made those breasts of hers sway ever so slightly.

  "Come here," he said in a rough voice.

  She approached him with her head up and her eyes down . . . on the hard cock that was killing him to get to her.

  Stepping into his body, Reilly eased up to nip on his earlobe. "Is the water warm enough yet?"

  "You get in there" - he gripped her pelvic bones and squeezed - "and it's going to boil. "

  He kissed her, bending down and putting their mouths together. His clothes lasted another . . . oh, minute and a half.

  And then, like the gentleman he wasn't feeling even close to, but was damn well determined to be, he picked her up and carried her into the tub with care, settling them so they faced each other. The steam rising up between their bodies smelled like that scent he associated with her, suggesting she did this frequently, maybe with some kind of bath mix thing.

  More kissing and hands going everywhere through the currents of warm water. Except as soon as she found his erection, he jacked up and splashed a few hundred gallons onto the floor.

  "Oh, shit . . . sorry - "

  She came with him, pushing him back against the curved wall of the tub. "I'm not worried about the water. "

  As her hand locked on his cock and started stroking, he muttered through gritted teeth, "I'm not going to last if you keep that up. "

  "I don't want you to. "

  Well, good. Because the sight of her slick, buoyant breasts and that erotic look in her eyes was enough to make him come on their own. Add the friction? He was waaaay past his threshold.

  His hips found a rhythm to counter her own and he let his head go loose until it fell back against the tub's curled edge. Which gave him a hell of a vantage point. The level of the water was recovering from the spill, and the rising, waving action lapped over her hard pink nipples and disappeared, only to lap back, and recede again. . . .

  Leaving her glossy. So glossy. As if he'd been licking at her himself.

  That was ultimately what kicked him off the ledge. His molars locked and he let out a loud groan as his arousal jerked and bucked against her palm, his body torquing hard.

  In response, her smile was precious, the kind you put into your mental backpack and carried with you forever.

  And for some reason . . . even though it was a mood killer . . . all he could think about was her sitting in that chair downstairs, no doubt armed, waiting for someone to come and get her.

  They were safe here together tonight, but that was not going to last. Sooner or later, he would have to go home, and she was going to be alone again. Christ, both of them getting stalked? It was time to take control of this situation and keep this incredible woman and her heartbreaking smile safe.

  Next time that Heron character showed up, he was going to take the bastard into custody. Even if it killed them both.

  "Are you all right?" she asked, clearly sensing the shift in him.

  "Oh, yeah. Very all right. "

  He dragged his head off the lip of the tub and stretched his leg out, turning the faucet off with his foot. Then he pulled her on top of him, unwilling to waste this opportunity to enjoy her.

  "I liked that a lot," he said against her mouth. "But I have a feeling you're going to be even better. "

  They stayed long enough for the water to take an edge from the chill, kissing, touching. Not that he needed the recovery time. He'd been ready to go right after the orgasm she gave him.

  He wanted her that much.

  "Take me to your bed?" he said.

  When she nodded, he offered her a steadying hand as she stood up and delicately stepped over the tub's high walls onto the tile.

  "Watch it," he warned. "It's got to be wet. "

  "It is. " She looked down. "I'll get some towels. "

  "And I'll pay if we ruined your ceiling downstairs. "

  She glanced back at him, her torso twisting gracefully. "It was so worth it. "

  "And you are so beautiful," he said softly, as he watched the light catch her curves.

  With red cheeks, she turned away to the stack of towels on the counter and began throwing them on the floor around the tub's base.

  Even though he was more than content to watch the show, he rose up from the water and got out. The mirror over the sink made him nervous, but he forced himself to look into it. Nothing but his reflection. No shadows. Nothing that moved other than his ribs from his breathing.

  Relieved, he approached her from behind. Stepping against her warm, wet body, he bent down and kissed her shoulder.

  "I'm not . . . used to this. " She patted the last towel of that stack, as if impatient with herself. "I'm just . . . I don't know how to handle this. "

  "You handled me just fine. " He ran his forefinger down her spine. "Better than anyone has. "

  She laughed in a little tense burst. "Somehow I doubt that. "

  "Don't. You're something else. "

  He put his hands on her neck and caressed her back all the way to her hips. Then his lips followed the trail he'd blazed, kissing and nipping down her torso . . . and going even lower.

  Getting on his knees, Veck ran his lips up her thighs, gradually moving closer to that juncture he'd been keeping in mind the whole time. At his gentle urging, she bent over the counter, exposing that slit of flesh that drove him insane -

  With a sudden surge, he nuzzled into her, and then sucked her into his mouth.

  Sweet . . . and hot . . . and slick against his tongue.
And she loved it, too, her arms bowing out to keep her balance against the marble, her breath falling into a sharp panting rhythm.

  Using his hands, he spread her feet further to give him more room to work, and then he swept his palms up the front of her legs to grip her and keep her tight to his face.

  Fast flicking. Deep sucking. Penetration with his tongue.

  He took his time, because there was so much to explore, and he kept her on the brink until he couldn't stand the suspense anymore. Snaking his hand up, he eased the pad of his thumb into the top of her sex at the same time he extended his tongue inside of her. Quick circles in the right place sent her flying, and he loved the way she clenched internally and kicked against him.

  When she was finished, he eased back. Through her trembling legs, he got one fuck of a view of her breasts, the two of them hanging down, the tips brushing against the marble as they swung back and forth from her breathing.

  Veck squeezed his eyes shut and needed to take a minute.

  The next time he came, it was going to be where his tongue had just been.

  Orgasm. Of. Her. Life.

  As Reilly struggled to remain upright, her body was still cruising at full speed ahead - except there was nowhere to go, however, so all the muscles of her thighs did was twitch in place. And that wasn't the half of it. Her mind was blown, to the pot where she wasn't exactly sure where she was.

  Turning her head, she got a faceful of toothpaste and brushes.

  Bathroom. Well, she guessed there were two locales in her house she would never look at in the same way - wait. Three. The downstairs loo as well as the kitchen.

  As the world tilted and spun, she realized that Veck had picked her up. Good plan. She didn't think she could walk - and what a way to air-dry.

  In her bedroom, he laid her out on her duvet and covered her with half of it. "I'll be right back. "

  She wasn't alone long, however, because he moved fast, going downstairs, rifling around in what sounded like the kitchen, coming back quickly. He canned the overhead light as he reentered, and at first she thought it was for her modesty - not that she needed it, considering what he'd done to her at that counter - but then she saw him put something on the bedside table.

  His gun.

  No, there were two. He'd brought hers as well. From where they'd disarmed at the table before dinner.

  How romantic.

  The stark reminder of the night before chilled her, but he took care of that, covering her with his hot, hard body.

  "Don't think about it," he whispered. "Not now. There'll be plenty of time when we're through. "

  She touched his face and wished they were on vacation somewhere far, far away from the kind of work they did and the reason they had been brought together.

  "You're right," she said. "And I don't want to wait a moment longer. "

  He nodded, and produced that last foil square he'd kept in his wallet. When he was finished taking care of things, he mounted her again, and as she spread her legs further, she felt the shift in him, in herself: everything slowed down.

  As he entered her on a gentle glide, she welcomed him not just with her sex, but her soul, kissing him deeply.

  Without words, without hesitations, without any reservations, they moved together, building momentum, gathering intensity. When the end came, it was at the same time, and they held on to each other, she with her nails digging into his back, he with his arms under her and squeezing.

  It was the most perfect union. And afterward, even though he had to pull out and did, they lay together in the dark as close as they could get, their bodies forming a critical mass of warmth in the center of the bed.

  "Will you let me stay the night?" he asked.

  "Yes. Please, yes. "

  "I'll be right back. You get under the covers. "

  Good idea. Because as soon as he was up off of her, the cold rushed in and goose-pimpled her all over.

  A few minutes later he came back from the bath and joined her. "Did I take your side?"

  "Ah . . . no. I'm over here at night. "

  "Good. "

  She rolled over and they faced each other, heads on her pillows, bodies warming up under the weight of the blankets.

  He brushed his fingertip down her cheek . . . across her jaw . . . to her lips. "Thank you . . . " he whispered. width="1em">God, she couldn't find her breath at this moment. "For what. "

  There was a pause. "The pizza. It was just the way I like it. "

  Reilly laughed. "Smart-ass. "

  "Come here. I need to hold on to you. "

  She felt the same way. And when there was no distance between them, it was like coming home.

  With her head on his chest over his thumping heart, and his arms around her, and her leg thrown over his, she wasn't just comfortable; she was safe.

  While he idly smoothed her hair, she closed her eyes. "This is just perfect. "

  She could hear the smile in his voice: "Which is how I want it to be for you. I want to make everything perfect for you. "

  As Reilly drifted off to sleep, her last thought was . . . she couldn't wait to do it all over again. And not just the sex. This lovely, invaluable quiet was even better than the making love part.

  Although that hadn't been half-bad, either.