Coming In Last

by Shiloh Walker

  Tossing her head back, her drying hair settling around her face in a halo, she responded, “Because I didn’t want you to do anything differently simply because I was a virgin. I knew what I wanted, and I knew you wanted me.”

  “Yes, I wanted you. God, I still do. But a virgin probably shouldn’t spend her first night with her lover pounding into her until dawn.”

  Maybe so, Andi acknowledged. She’d been stiff and sore when she had rolled out of bed earlier. But damned if she’d admit it.

  With a shrug of her shoulders, she said, “I’m fine.” Sliding him a sly glance, her mouth curved into a female smile, she added, “Better than fine, if you want the truth.” How had a virgin learned to move that way? He wondered.

  But he already knew the answer. Some women just seemed to know. Reaching out, he ran a hand down her naked back before drawing her into his lap. “Why me, Andi?” he asked. He didn’t doubt that she was telling the truth for even a second. It was no wonder she had been so tight. And the dazed, almost confused pleasure he had seen in her eyes was making sense as well.

  Her body softened and relaxed against his as the tension left the air. Her head fell back against his shoulder and she responded, “I never wanted to be with anybody. You…I wanted you the day you stumbled into the daycare after banging your head.” She traced her hand over the area on his head where the bruise had faded weeks earlier. “Just looking at you made me shake.”

  Turning his face into her hand, he pressed a kiss to her palm. “You hid it well,” he said. “When I kissed you that first time, I was certain you were going to haul off and slap me. I know women, Andi. And looking at you, I would have bet the bank you weren’t interested. Attracted, maybe. But not interested. When you kissed me back, I almost went into shock. I thought it was all one-sided.”

  “Old habit,” she told him. “I don’t like letting others know when something matters to me.”

  Humbled, Jamie gathered her against him and wrapped his arms around her. “What about you getting pregnant?” he asked.

  “It’s not likely.”

  “But if it happens?”

  The weight of his hand settled on her belly again and she realized that was why he had said something to begin with. Gazing up at him, she said, “If it happens, it happens.”

  “If it happens, I want to know.”

  “If it does happen, what will you do?”

  He waited to answer as he sorted through the chaotic tumble of thoughts in his head. Finally, he decided to be up front with her. He moved, then, placing her naked body under him and cupping her head in his hands. “I’ll do the same thing I plan on doing if you don’t get pregnant. I’m going to marry you, Andi.”

  Her eyes dark and huge, she stared up at him and squeaked, “Marry me?”

  Lowering his head, he took her mouth in a hard, almost brutal kiss. “You’re mine. And I’m keeping you.” Then he lowered his head and whispered, “I love you.”

  She didn’t tell him back.

  Hours later, Jamie tried to accept it, told himself it might take time.

  But it ate at him.

  She had stared up at him, tears gleaming in her eyes as he repeated it a second time. And a third, after he gently made love to her, carefully using his hands and mouth to bring her to climax, preparing her body before he eased his way inside her again, binding her to him in the most basic way possible. Even as she climaxed, tears in her beautiful eyes, she hadn’t said anything.

  He had urged her into a warm bath then, refusing to join her when she held her hand out to him. “We keep this up, and you won’t be able to walk,” he said, kissing her cheek before leaving her alone in the bathroom and going to fix them something to eat.

  He enjoyed cooking. It usually relaxed him, helped him clear his head.

  Not today.

  As he set about making Belgian waffles, Jamie wondered if he had made a mistake, telling her so soon. He’d only spoken the truth. And he knew he might be rushing it. But if things fell apart with the investigation, he wanted everything he felt out in the open before Andi found out the rest.

  Maybe it would hurt her a little less then.

  Once the batter was ready, and the strawberry topping was in the fridge, he wandered around, waiting for Andi to finish her bath.

  He was standing in front of a framed piece when she left the bathroom, clad once again in the heavy cotton robe, her wet hair braided and out of her face.

  Love Is.

  The words were in capital letters in a dark burgundy on a pale ivory background. In much paler shades of burgundy, small verses read:

  Love suffers long and is kind. Love does not envy. Love does not parade itself, is not puffed up. Does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil, does not rejoice in inequity but rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

  The passage was repeated over and over, covering the entire background.

  He studied it, puzzled. She didn’t have much on the walls, no pictures, very few decorations. The house was simple and elegant. Yet over the fireplace, this plaque hung.

  Love Is.

  “I went to church for the first time a few months after I was attacked. The minister was reading that passage when I walked in,” she said softly, walking to stand next to him. “I read a lot, always romance. I got hooked on romances when I was in high school. The thought of love, I don’t know, it always seemed like some sort of fairy tale.

  But I didn’t really understand what love was.”

  Nodding to the plaque, she said, “As many romances as I’ve read, as many movies as I’ve seen, I’ve never heard it defined quite so well. I made that, and hung it up to remind me.”

  “Remind you about what?”

  She turned then, looking at him. Burying her hands in the deep pockets of her robe, she said, “What I was looking for.” Then she reached out, touched his face. “To remind me that you were out there somewhere.”

  She lowered her eyes briefly, and then lifted them back and said simply, “I love you. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Emotion swamped him. His eyes closed and he stepped forward, wrapping her slim body in his arms and holding her close to him, feeling her heart beat against his, feeling her hand come up and cup the back of his head.

  He wasn’t surprised to realize tears were burning his eyes. Lifting his head heavenward, he silently pleaded, Don’t let me lose this.

  The sun rose far too quickly the next morning. Jamie lay on his side watching Andi sleep, somewhat amazed they were both still alive and mobile. Could wanting somebody this much kill you? he wondered, tracing one finger down to the tip of her nose, the curve of her cheek before rolling onto his back.

  It took a little longer for him to work up the nerve to get out of bed.

  The clothes he’d grabbed when he had done the breakfast run were in the small duffel bag by the door, along with the box of condoms he had reluctantly bought and worn. Damn it, he’d never be able to so much as think of a rubber without thinking of Andi again, and how her small, quick hands had rolled it on him.

  Standing in the shower, scrubbing his hair, he could almost see her on her knees in front of him again, almost feel her talented mouth as it slid over the length of him. Feel her sharp teeth as they closed gently over his sac before sucking it into her mouth. And the sly grin she had given him, knowing she was driving him mad.

  His entire life had pivoted on its axis this weekend. It had been coming for some time, Jamie knew, but he hadn’t expected it to come so quickly. Hadn’t expected for her to invite him in when he had shown up at her door to take her out.

  Water sluiced off of him as he stepped out of the steamy shower, running both hands over his head, shoving his hair back out of his eyes. After drying off with a fluffy white towel, he dressed and returned to the bedroom, lowering himself on the window seat, watching her
while she slept.

  He lingered in the bedroom until her eyes opened and she smiled up at him, arching her back, stretching her legs and arms before turning on her side and tucking her arm under her head. Jamie left the window seat to settle down beside her, one hand smoothing her tangled hair back from her face. “Do you have to leave?” she asked, one small hand resting on his thigh. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice husky. Reluctantly, Jamie forced himself to open his mouth. “Andi…”

  She already knew what he was thinking. She could see it in his pale eyes, the strain, the need, the hesitancy. Her hand reached up and she covered his lips. With a oneshoulder shrug, she said, “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got a job to do. I’m aware of that.”

  He caught her hand, pressed a kiss to the back before leaning over her. “I don’t like it this way,” he said. “I want to tell you what’s going on.”

  Her eyes understanding, she said, “But you can’t. Jamie, I’m okay with that.” Her eyes drifted away and she asked, “But what happens when the job is over and you find out who did it? What happens to you?”

  “I live in Indy. That’s where Mick and I set up shop,” he told her, combing his hand through her hair. “Would you move there?”

  When she hesitated, he said, “If you won’t, then I’m moving here. I’m not having some long distance relationship with you. The thought of you not being where I can touch you drives me crazy.”

  Slowly, sitting up in the bed, clutching the sheet to her naked breast, Andi said, “Jamie, you hardly know me. Are you certain you want to change your whole life?”

  “It changed the minute I laid eyes on you. You are my life.” The intensity in his voice had her eyes widening. Sighing, he stroked his hands up and down her arms, staring over her shoulder. “I’m not saying we have to set up housekeeping together, at least not right away. But I’m not living two fucking hours away from you. Don’t ask me to.”

  Lowering his head, he kissed her soft mouth, sucking on her lower lip before gathering her into his arms one more time. “We can take some time, get to know each other a little better, if that’s what you want. But I’m not backing away and I’m not letting you out of my life. I told you, I wasn’t settling for one night, that you’re mine, and I’m keeping you.” His voice went deep and gruff as he stared at her, his eyes hot and intense. “I meant it.”

  She reached up and touched his face. “I don’t plan on going anywhere,” she said simply.

  He caught her hand in his, pressed a kiss to her palm.

  “I…need to talk to you, though,” she said, her eyes darkening. “Can you meet me in that little office by the elevators?”

  “I can call you tonight,” he offered.

  “No. It’s not urgent. I just want to talk to you, though. It can wait.”

  “Okay. Can you come in early, though? I have meetings most of the day,” he told her.

  “I’ll be there at seven thirty.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jamie rounded the corner. The basement offices were quiet this early in the morning. The small offices and work areas were reserved for lower level administration and records and such and none of those employees showed up until nine.

  Glancing at his watch, he didn’t see Andi right away.

  When he saw her, he froze in his tracks.

  She was wearing a skirt, a short black number that definitely wasn’t her typical wardrobe for chasing down toddlers. But she was wearing it. It wasn’t the least bit indecent. In fact, with the pristine white ribbed tunic she wore with it, the dark hose and the long multi-colored stones that hung around her neck, she looked quite professional.

  But damn it, she was wearing a skirt.

  With a sly smile, she glanced down the hall then disappeared into the tiny little cubbyhole of an office.

  Jamie moved, his steps jerky, his breath catching in his throat. He closed the door tightly behind him, locked it before turning around.

  She was smiling at him wickedly, and as he watched she reached under the material of her slightly shorter than knee-length skirt, hooked one finger in the edge of her panties and slid them down her thighs, her knees, until she could step out of them. The movement revealed that she wasn’t wearing hose. She was wearing stockings, the stay up kind that ended high on her thighs.

  Settling her buttocks against the desk, she said, her cheeks pink, her eyes full of nerves and need, “You kind of set off a fantasy of mine.”

  While he stared at her, his eyes narrow and hot, she lifted herself onto the desk, gripped the bottom of her white cotton tunic and pulled it over her head. When she was done, she was clad in a white push up bra, her breasts straining against the lace, her skirt resting high on her thighs, those legs of hers encased in dark silk stockings.

  She looked like every high school boy’s dream come true.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he muttered, his voice thick and rough as he moved closer.

  Andi’s lips curved up in that shy, proud little smile that drove Jamie nuts as she reached for his shirt, her fingers slipping the buttons free as she eyed him under the fringe of her lashes. Running her nails up his chest, she smiled. “I love looking at you.

  You’re so sexy, so beautiful.”

  Leaning forward, she licked the flat nub of one nipple and then bit it before she smiled slyly as she reached for his belt. “We’d better make it quick,” she murmured, grinning as she slid her hand inside his trousers and lowered them.

  Jamie dipped his head, catching one rosy nipple and sucking it deep into his mouth, laving it with his tongue as he pulled her hips to the edge of the desk, rocking his hips against the wet cleft between her thighs. “You’re so wet, so soft,” he groaned, his head swimming as her scent flooded his system.

  Sliding his hands under the edge of her skirt, he trailed them over the edge of her stockings, caressing the firm muscles of her thighs before reaching down and lifting her, and cupping the firm, lush curves of her butt. “I love your ass,” he murmured against her breasts. “You know that? Firm and soft, round…I hate a skinny butt on a woman, you know that?”

  She giggled. “And to think I’ve hated all my life not being a size eight.”

  “You’re perfect,” he rasped, sinking his fingers into the fleshy mounds and rocking against her cleft. Her wet folds slid against him, silkily, perfectly…

  Angling her hips, Andi tried to guide him inside her but he held back. “Are you sure you’re not too sore?” he asked, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to wait until she answered.

  She smiled a sweet, pleased smile, before she reached up. “I’m fine,” she told him.

  He parted her flesh, felt how wet she was, and shuddered. “God, Andi.” But, still he didn’t move. “Damn it, I don’t have anything with me.”

  Her head fell back, her rich red curls tumbling over her shoulders, spilling down to flirt with her breasts. “I don’t care,” she said softly. “Do you?”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “I meant what I said the other day,” he said.

  She smiled at him, lifting her hands and threading them through her hair, tugging until her hair was piled atop her head and then she said, “So did I.”

  “Then you better lean back,” he said, moving forward. “We’re going to have to make this fast.”

  He was just teasing. Jamie meant to love her slow and gentle, certain she’d be sore, even if she wasn’t telling him. But as he slid inside her, as her wet sheath closed around him, gloving him tightly, she whispered something that broke his control.

  “I’m wanting it fast,” she said, leaning back, arching her breasts up, her head falling back. She gazed at him from under her lashes, scarcely able to believe she could be doing this, saying this. “Fast and hard.”

  Jamie’s control shattered and his hands closed tightly around her waist, dragging her to the edge as he buried himself inside her. He remained there, not moving until the first initial shockwave of pleasure f
aded from her eyes. “Hang on,” he ordered, lifting her hips. Turning, he took two steps and pinned her against the wall for leverage.

  Then he pulled back, and lunged back inside her, hard, as hard as he could, as though he wanted nothing more than to get inside her and never leave. “I love you,” he said gutturally, pumping his hips against hers, moaning as she clenched around him in a wet, silky caress. “I love being inside you, just me, nothing between us.”

  Andi had realized over the weekend that Jamie was an anomaly. He liked, no, he loved to talk to her during sex, loved to make her blush, loved describing how it felt to be inside her. Other times, you could rarely get a word out of the man. She gasped when his hands left her butt to hook under her knees, opening her body all the way. “I love hearing you moan and cry while I fuck you.”

  Her lips parted, and he released one leg to cover her mouth. “You can’t cry out now, though, Andi,” he said harshly, shuddering as she started to tremble in his arms. “Bite me,” he offered, as her eyes opened wide. “Bite me, but don’t make a sound.”

  She had never, in her whole life, experienced anything as erotic as this. Her teeth sank into the toughened flesh of his palm as he rode her hard, driving so deep inside her she thought she’d die.

  She was sore. She had lied to him. She was sore and swollen and he felt unbelievably huge inside her, but the near pain only added to the moment. She had asked for this, after what he had told her last time they were in this room.

  Damn, she’d be sure to ask again, once she recovered.

  “I’m going to come inside you, but not until you’re ready, too,” he told her, biting her on the lobe of her ear, laughing when she whimpered.

  “Jamie,” she whispered against his hand. “Ohhhh.” A long, low moan left her mouth as she started to convulse around him.

  She felt the rush of heat inside her as Jamie climaxed and she shuddered, squeezing with her inner muscles, riding the wave as long as she could.

  Moments later, he collapsed against her, letting her legs go. Clearing his throat, he said with a dry mouth, “Ms. Morrow, I think it would be wise if we continued to have these discussions on a regular basis.”