“I don’t mind.” Damn, his voice came out thick, hoarse.
“Thank you.”
They sat there for a few moments in silence, Becker painfully aware of the woman in his arms. She was all curves, a glaring contrast to his ex-wife, who’d been far too thin for his liking. He’d always urged Alice to gain a few pounds, add some curves to her stick-straight figure, but Alice was all about her image. She’d been modeling since she was eighteen years old, the same age Becker had been when he married her. They’d managed to make it work for fourteen years, shocking really, considering their hectic schedules. With Alice working on becoming a supermodel and Becker traveling the world with the Navy, it was a wonder they’d been able to stay married for that long.
Becker resisted a groan. Shit, he really needed to quit thinking about the divorce. It’d been finalized months ago, and yet here he was, constantly obsessing about his ex-wife. Maybe he needed to take a page out of his teammates’ books and indulge in some random, no-strings sex.
Actually, scratch that. Sex was definitely something he shouldn’t be thinking about either. Not now, anyway.
The woman in his lap shifted, letting out a wobbly breath that broke through the silence. “Okay, this isn’t working,” she choked out. “Maybe you can try to distract me? Talk to me about something.”
Becker fought a wave of discomfort. Wonderful. If there was one thing he sucked at, it was talking. Especially to women.
“Please,” she added, obviously seeing the reluctance in his eyes.
“Talk about what?” he asked, caving in.
“Anything. Tell me about the bullet wound in your arm, your favorite movie, your pet peeves. I don’t care.” Another shaky breath.
“Um, okay.” He paused. “Well, bullet wounds fucking hurt.”
Her lips quirked, and Becker was startled by the little spark of pleasure he got from knowing he’d made her smile. “What does it feel like? Is it like a knife wound? Because I know what that feels like.”
“When the hell did you get a knife wound?”
“College. I was a reporter for the school paper and I went to interview this meth addict for a piece I was doing. Only he was super high and thought I was a narc.” She offered a small shrug, as if to say no biggie.
Despite himself, Becker grinned. “Remember earlier how I said you were persistent? Well, correction—you’re nuts.”
“It was an important story. Getting knifed added some color to the piece.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “So, the bullet…?”
“Right. Well, to be honest, I didn’t even feel it at first. Adrenaline running too high, you know. I was too focused on getting your sister into the chop—” He narrowed his eyes. “All this is off the record, right?”
Jane made a face. “Unfortunately. But I still think you should let me interview you.”
“Not interested.”
“Fine.” She gave a little pout, which brought another smile to his lips. “At least finish the story.”
“Yes, ma’am. So, like I said, didn’t feel a thing at first, not until I climbed into the chopper. Then the pain hit me like a streak of lightning. Arm started throbbing, head spinning from the loss of blood. Felt like someone stuck a live wire straight into my bone.”
“Is that the first time you’ve been shot?”
“First time I’ve had a bullet in me, yeah. I’ve been grazed a few times, knifed, slashed by a machete once…” His voice drifted, and he smiled at the horror in her eyes. “Part of the job.”
“I could never do it,” Jane said frankly. “A job where I’m constantly getting injured? No thank you. I’d way rather interview people in the comfort of their homes.”
He shot her a curious glance. “What kind of stories do you write?”
“Whatever I get assigned. Last issue I had a piece about insider trading, the one before that was a story about human trafficking.”
“And now you’re working on a story about your sister?”
She nodded, then released a long breath. To his relief, this one didn’t sound shaky. She was calming down. “I was so worried about her, Becker. When her office called and told us she’d gone off the radar, I thought she was dead.” Jane swallowed. “I always tell her not to take such risky assignments, but she never listens.”
He arched a brow. “Would you ever turn down a story because someone told you there might be some risk?”
The corner of her mouth curved. “No. I guess it runs in the family, huh? Pigheadedness is probably the only thing I have in common with them.”
“You don’t get along with your family?”
“No, I do. I love them to death. But sometimes I feel like the odd man out, you know? My mom, Dad, Liz, my brother Ken—they’re all so similar. Look alike, think alike. Hell, they all chose the same career. Photographers, all of them!” She shook her head, looking baffled. “Journalism is a related field, I guess, but I know squat about photography. We have dinner together every Wednesday night, and the four of them drone on and on about new techniques they’re using or what not, and I just sit there, twiddling my thumbs.” She halted suddenly, her cheeks reddening. “Sorry, I don’t mean to complain. You’re probably bored by my rambling, huh?”
Actually, he was the farthest thing from bored. Becker couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed listening to a woman talk. And he knew exactly what Jane was saying. How many times had he sat at the dinner table listening to Alice go on and on about her headshots and runway walk and the latest fashion trends only for her to get all huffy when he had nothing to contribute to the conversation? Too many.
“I don’t mind the rambling,” he admitted. “I find you interesting.”
She smiled again. “Thank you.”
Fuck, he liked that. Thank you. Alice had never been able to take compliments, always feigning humbleness while in reality she loved hearing how wonderful she was.
He swept his gaze over Jane’s beautiful face, and then, before he could stop himself, lightly ran his hand over her hip.
Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of heat in her eyes.
Becker’s hand instantly stilled. Shit, what was he doing? The air between them sizzled, while the heat from her curvy body seared into him and made his pulse race. Okay. Wow. This was the first woman he’d been attracted to since the divorce, and the notion unnerved him.
Clearing his throat, he struggled to snuff out the flame of desire burning in his body. “So, did you always want to be a journalist?”
“Yeah. Ever since I was a kid. I used to write articles about everyone in the neighborhood.” She grinned. “I was convinced Mr. Jervais from across the street was up to no good, so I’d spy on him and then write about what I saw.”
“What did you see?”
“Well, he took out the garbage a lot, so I decided he was getting rid of dismembered body parts. And he spent a lot of time in his garage, which was obviously where he killed his victims.”
Becker laughed. “Poor man. I hope you didn’t show him any of the stories.”
“No, my parents made me shred them. They said even ten-year-olds could be arrested for slander and harassment.”
“And ten years later, you’re still at it, huh?”
“That would make me twenty. I’m twenty-eight, thank you very much. But I appreciate the compliment. And yes, I’m still at it. I’m going to win a Pulitzer someday, you know.”
The flash of ambition he saw in her eyes brought a wave of uneasiness. He’d seen that look far too many times in his ex-wife’s eyes.
“And what about a husband and kids? Do you see that in your future too, or just the Pulitzer?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Sure, I want those things, but there’s no rush. I want to focus on my career right now, make a name for myself. There’ll be time for all the rest.”
Becker stifled a snort. There’s no rush. There’s time. Alice had spouted that bull for fourteen years of marriage, before finally dropping the bomb that she never planned on s
tarting a family.
A spark of bitterness ignited in his gut, but he forced himself not to reveal his thoughts on the subject to Jane. He seriously needed to stop comparing her to his ex. He didn’t even know this woman. He had no right judging her choices and goals. So what if they weren’t aligned with his? Wasn’t like he was going to marry the girl.
“I do make plenty of time for sex, though,” she added with a small grin.
His hard-on returned with full-force, straining against his zipper.
No doubt Jane felt it straining against her too, because her eyes widened slightly. “Oh my,” she murmured.
Becker rolled his eyes. “That’s what happens when you say the word sex while you’re sitting in a man’s lap, sweetheart.”
She gave him an impish look. “Do you want me to say it again?”
“Seeing as we’re trapped here in this elevator, I can’t really stop you from saying anything, can I?”
He instantly knew he’d said the wrong thing, because Jane’s blue eyes flickered with terror. She glanced around the small space, as if remembering where they were and why there were there. Her throat worked as she swallowed repeatedly. Beck could practically hear her pulse began to race. Shit. Why on earth had he reminded her they were trapped in an elevator?
“Jane—” he started.
“How long has it been?” she cut him off. “Didn’t he say a half hour? It feels like ages since—”
“Jane—”
She shifted in his lap, hand fumbling toward her purse. “My phone has the time on it. I need to see—”
“Jane—”
“—how long we’ve been here. Do you feel hot too or is it just me? And it is getting hard to breathe, because I really can’t—”
Becker pressed his lips to hers. He hadn’t planned on kissing her, but it was the only way to shut her up, to distract her before she hurled herself headfirst off another panic cliff.
Only, the second his mouth touched hers, he forgot all about why he’d kissed her in the first place. Instead, all he could think about was…well, kissing her. Kissing the holy hell out of her.
So he did.
3
Jane let out a startled squeak, which quickly transformed into a whimper as Becker’s tongue slid deftly into her mouth. Oh, sweet Jesus, this man could kiss. You wouldn’t think it based on his stiff, serious demeanor, but clearly all the intensity he kept bottled up came pouring out when he kissed.
Her surroundings completely faded as she lost herself in the kiss. His mouth was firm and warm, his tongue lazy as it danced with hers. Jane’s entire body went soft, muscles turning to jelly. She ran her fingers over Becker’s buzz cut, his short spiky hair tickling her palms. He responded by sliding one hand to her waist, while angling her head with the other in order to deepen the kiss.
She moaned into his mouth, unable to stop herself from rubbing against the bulge in his jeans. An answering moan sounded deep in his throat. His fingers tightened over her hip.
“We should stop,” he ground out, breaking the kiss.
“Probably,” she agreed with a faint smile.
They stared at each other for a long moment. Becker’s brown eyes glimmered with heat. Jane’s pulse thudded in her throat.
And then they were kissing again, and the word stop was blown away by a gust of mutual attraction.
This was crazy. She’d had one-night-stands before, but always with men she’d known for more than twenty minutes, damn it. And never in an elevator. Yet Jane couldn’t stop the rush of desire swirling through her body. She placed her palms against Becker’s rock-hard chest, moaning at the feel of his defined pecs and the thump of his heart under her fingers. His hands were equally busy, unbuttoning her jacket, slipping under the lacy white camisole beneath it. He stroked the bare skin of her belly, then moved his hands north and cupped her breasts.
“Christ,” he choked out, squeezing her breasts over her bra. “I could probably come just from fondling these.”
She let out a soft laugh. “And I could probably come just by doing this.” She rubbed herself against his crotch again to illustrate her point.
Becker groaned. “You realize this is a really bad idea, right?”
“Oh, it’s a terrible idea.” She shrugged out of her jacket and peeled the camisole off her chest.
Becker sucked in a breath, those intense dark eyes narrowing at the sight of her lacy black bra. Slowly, he took off his own shirt. His chest was absolutely spectacular, broad and rippled, with a dusting of brown hair leading down to his waistband. The tender spot between her legs began to throb, making her move restlessly against him.
“Are you turned on, Jane?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes.” Her voice came out in a hiss.
“Yeah? Let’s see how turned on you are.” A big hand reached between her legs to stroke the damp crotch of her panties. He groaned. “Christ, feel how wet you are.” His gaze locked with hers. “You really want to do this?”
“Yes,” she said again.
“Fuck. So do I.”
The next thing she knew, he shoved aside the strip of material covering her core and pushed one long finger deep inside her.
Jane gasped in shock and delight, and then started rocking against his probing finger. Why did it feel this good? It wasn’t like she’d never been fingered before. Yet...this...this felt different. Better. So insanely amazing she almost shuddered in orgasm from the feel of his finger sliding in and out of her pussy.
Suddenly frantic, she fumbled with his zipper, whimpering when it stuck halfway. With a chuckle, Becker used his free hand to unzip his jeans. Jane’s mouth watered at the sight of the long, erect cock that sprang out of his pants. No boxers. She should’ve known this man went commando. It suited him to a T, considering the commanding aura he radiated.
Her fingers trembled as she wrapped them around his cock. “You’re enormous,” she murmured, marveling at his thickness, his length.
Becker’s eyes smoldered as she stroked his shaft. He continued teasing her pussy while she worked his cock, until the air around them grew thick with need and all pretense of foreplay was swallowed up in the haze.
Jane yelped when Becker removed his finger and planted both his palms under her ass. He met her eyes again, his features creased with raw lust, then lifted her onto his cock and pushed her down on it.
A mindless moan slipped from her lips. He was lodged inside her, stretching her pussy, filling every inch of her.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he breathed out. “Am I hurting you? Should we stop?”
“No.” Her breath came out in sharp gasps. “God, no. Don’t even think about stopping.”
To punctuate the remark, she pressed her mouth to his and started to move. She rode him fast and furious, her knees knocking against his powerful thighs. Becker gave a desperate groan and dug his fingers into her waist, moving his hips with hurried thrusts, drilling upwards as she pushed herself onto his cock.
“That’s it, Jane, fuck me,” he muttered. “Harder, baby, milk me dry.”
His harsh words sent a thrill soaring up her spine. She’d never had sex like this before. So raw and dirty and completely uninhibited. She gripped his bare shoulders, holding on for dear life as she did what he asked, fucking him faster, harder. The first ripples of orgasm fluttered in her belly, gathering in strength, and then Becker tugged on the cups of her bra, dipped his head to suckle on one hard nipple, and her climax ripped through her. Pleasure exploded in her body, vibrating in her clit, throbbing in her breasts.
She cried out, pushing her nipple deeper into Becker’s mouth as she came, riding out the orgasm as he sucked hard and groaned against her skin. He didn’t take long to reach his climax either. Within seconds, she felt his cock pulse and jerk inside her, and he released her breast to let out a husky groan.
Jane pressed her lips to his neck, licking his damp, salty skin as he continued to shudder. When the waves of pleasure finally ebbed, they stared at each oth
er again, and she was pretty sure the wonder and bewilderment she saw in his eyes matched her own.
What the hell had just happened? She’d had sex with a total stranger, yet not only had it been the best damn sex of her life, it hadn’t felt the slightest bit sleazy.
It felt…perfect.
A ragged breath slid out of Becker’s mouth. “Well.” He swallowed. “So…uh…”
Jane couldn’t help a smile. “Well. So. Uh. My thoughts exactly.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “That was...unexpected.”
“Yep,” she agreed.
Becker slowly lifted her off his still-erect cock. Then he cursed loudly. “Aw fuck. Fuck. We didn’t use a condom.”
Surprise jolted through her. Sure enough, hot come was sliding down her thighs, blatant evidence of the fact that she’d just had unprotected sex for the first time in her life. “Oh shit.” She searched his gaze. “I’m on the pill and disease-free. Please tell me you are too.”
“I’m clean,” he said quietly. “Had my most recent physical last month and all the tests came back negative.”
Relief coursed through her, but the uncomfortable subject pretty much killed the mood. And reminded her that they were still in the elevator. An elevator, which, now that she thought about it, probably had a camera pointed right at them.
The thought triggered a sharp laugh. “Damn.”
Becker arched a brow. “I think it’s too late for second thoughts,” he said dryly.
“No, it’s not that. I just realized there might be a camera in here.”
“Shit, I didn’t think about that.”
With a sigh, Jane reached for her purse. “Well, if there is one, then the person manning it just got one hot show.”
Becker gave a wry smile. “Yup.”
She pulled out a travel pack of tissues and quickly cleaned herself up, while Becker put on his shirt, zipped up his jeans and got to his feet. He was just reaching for the intercom button when the lights flickered. The numbers on the elevator pad lit up all at once, and then a low hum filled the car. A moment later, they started to move.
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 22