by Angi Morgan
She shouldn’t look at him. He didn’t deserve the emotion that he claimed he could see on her every waking minute. Not him… Not the guy who didn’t want to be around her.
It was such a perfect pity cupcake. Until she looked at him.
“I didn’t mean that my time with you was a waste. I didn’t mean that you haven’t been a help and a vital part of this operation.” He touched her lips again with the tip of his finger, encouraging her to listen. “I was mad at myself for not being straight with you, including you more. I was hoping for another clue. Disappointed in the message, not the messenger.”
The intense smoldering brought his amber eyes to a new heat level, holding her stare, daring her to do something.
Daring her to believe.
“If you hurt me like that again, I’m not certain how I’ll retaliate.”
“I can’t promise not to, darlin’, but I’ll try.”
His lips took charge, a lazy control of touching, tasting and showing. Her hands splayed his chest, easily feeling through the scrubs worn during their rescue that morning. His fingers threaded through her hair, then across the exposed skin of her neck.
This kiss held layers of growing intensity. A natural chain reaction. Lips to lips. Chest to chest. Exploring hands to exploring hands.
No matter what the circumstances, an explosion would soon occur and neither party desired to slow down or try to cap this enthusiasm.
“We’re pretty sure…” She tried to speak while his lips nipped her neck. “No one will come…back?”
“Do you care?”
“Not by a… No,” she managed to whisper on a long breath while his lips skimmed her collarbone.
Should she care about the possible danger? The woman attracted to this man immediately shouted no. The responsible cop tried to get a word to her brain, but the message disconnected all the sensations being generated by Erren’s hands on her ribs, working their way to her back.
The anticipation was killing her.
“No more thinking,” she told him.
Her loose, flowered scrub top flew across the room and within seconds, Erren was bare-chested in front of her, sitting on the side of the bed.
“When you said you knew some moves, I should have asked what they were sooner,” he said.
Her partner would have to explain what moves she’d done. It was all a blur except for the hunger that kept her returning to this man. The more she fed on his lips, the more starved she became.
It was her turn to explore the ridges of each muscle defining his chest, his arms, his neck, his legs. She flattened his back to the bed, pinning his shoulders to the pale green quilt. The color clashed with his eyes. He’d look better on dark brown sheets.
She leaned close to kiss him again. To explore more of his taste and the feel of his comforting mouth. A warmth filled her body and mind. She didn’t want it to end—not today, not after they finished their mission.
He moved both of them fully onto the bed, leaving her straddled across his lap. She had no doubt where they were headed. And Erren’s reaction left no doubt it was what they both wanted.
She sat straighter, pushing her hair away from her face with both hands. Erren sucked air through his teeth.
Thinking she’d hurt him, she shifted to her knees to see his eyes closed in an expression of near bliss. His hands slid to her hips, pulling her back into place. Keeping her next to his hardness.
“Lean back again,” he said.
She did.
His hands stole across her skin, tracing her breasts still trapped in the confines of her bra. He pushed one strap to fall over her shoulder, then the other. Darby had never particularly felt sexy before, but she did now. The way this man used his hands to skim her reserves and heighten her senses…
Impatient, she unsnapped her bra clasp, seized both his hands and positioned them to replace the soft cotton, leaning into his touch.
It couldn’t be described, only experienced.
“You seem to have gotten around me. Ready to call the shots?” he whispered.
Erren opened his eyes to watch Darby guide his hands to the most perfect pair of delectables he could have envisioned.
Damn, he wanted her. Bad.
He also wanted her to keep the lead. It wasn’t conceding, it was a relief. He’d given her everything she asked for…and more. Her decision. Her timing.
Oh, man, he hoped her timing was as needy as his.
Faultless globes fit into his palms, and her blush-colored nipples fell under his thumbs, easily brushed to rigid peaks. Her cute bottom unconsciously swiveled across him, feeding his ache. It was getting harder to hold himself back.
Darby brought her mouth back to his, devouring. He kissed her cheek, leaving a trail to her neck, nudging her chin from his path to her rosy tips. He nipped and tugged, wanting more. Waiting until she gave him the wordless go-ahead.
He slipped his hands under the scrubs and over the firm, bare flesh of her derrière. Hot damn, he loved thongs. Her skin was hot to his touch. He pulled her closer into him, and heard a whimper deep in her throat. A sound he wanted to hear over and over.
His muscles grew more tense with each featherlike stroke of her hand across his shoulders and upper arms.
“Darby, if you don’t make a move to finish this up, I may not be there for the finale.”
His words evoked a Cheshire cat grin and another arch of her back. Another pulse from them both. Another moan of anticipation.
She skated to his side, toeing off her shoes, shimmying out of the nurse duds on her way to the bathroom.
“Well, what are you waiting for, cowboy?” Her eyes darted to his own pants, still tied around his hips.
Swirling thoughts became distant memories as he watched Darby take a condom from the cabinet. After all the “supplies” he’d purchased the day before, none of them had made the trip in his pants. Thank goodness, Darby was prepared.
He was mesmerized by the beautiful woman standing next to the bed and the depth of the feelings he had for her. Caring? This soon? A need he didn’t understand? He’d already admitted that he liked her. What else?
“Um, Erren?” She arched her eyebrow the way that drove him crazy.
“Yeah?”
“Change your mind?” She used her finger to point toward his legs.
“Hell, no.” He lifted his hips, shoved at the pants, pulled and tugged. The pants were baggy enough and he couldn’t figure out why they wouldn’t come off.
“Be still a minute.”
He obeyed. She rounded the end of the bed, pulled both of his shoes and dropped them to the floor. The soft thuds were followed by the silent fall of his socks before she ran a fingernail slowly across the curve of his foot.
He jumped.
“Aw, you’re ticklish.”
“Not really.” He tried to shimmy out of the pants again. Attempting to speed up whatever torture she had planned.
“Stop.” She planted her hands firmly on his ankles and climbed catlike up his body.
Her breasts gently swung across his thighs, her nipples still alert and taut. The creaminess of her skin wasn’t lost on him. He was willing to wait for anything she wanted. Willing to do anything she needed. The softness surrounded him, pulling him to a place that petrified him.
The soft light shining through the slats of the blinds created a halo behind her dark red hair. Small ringlets escaped her ponytail and curled just below her ears. She arched her back and he sucked in air at how beautiful she was.
The curves of her body sank around his legs, her lips much too close to… Her tongue dabbed across his abs. She leaned on her forearms, skimming her nails across his sides. The silkiness of her breasts grazed his chest in a last push to his mouth.
He wanted to taste her, but she escaped, just out of his tongue’s reach. His hands seized her buttocks, keeping her close. Then his lips caught hers, capturing her again for a languid kiss.
Darby tugged his pants and shorts down h
is legs, skimming her body across him the entire distance. He had a thirty-seven-inch inseam. Three feet one inch. He knew exactly how long his legs were. But the distance seemed a mile longer with Darby performing the tugging.
Back to where they started—she at the end of the bed and he lying on top of it. And yet, this time nothing was between them. He recognized the desire in her eyes, which meant no more playing around. He rolled the condom into place and invited her to join him again.
Anticipating every possible connection with her, realizing he felt complete. She was different from any woman before. He was crazy to think he could have a lasting relationship, but Darby made him feel it was possible.
He bent at the waist, snagged her under the arms, dragged her up his body and rolled on top of her. “Enough playing around.”
“I totally agree.”
Darby had thoroughly teased Erren and she didn’t want any retaliation. His mouth nipped at her neck and she moved her lips under his again. He tried to move his body down hers, and she wrapped her arms tighter around his ribs. “Now.”
The single-syllable command seemed to be all Erren had waited for. He entered her with a careful, controlled craze. Swells from that craziness rippled throughout her lower body. Erren shuddered and his breathing hitched. It took a half minute to recover before either of them could move.
Each glide of their bodies took her to a place she’d love to stay, but the emotional impact was too intense. She’d never experienced this before and didn’t know if she could handle it again.
Raw power wrapped her tenderly in his arms as he rocked into her. The crest grew with each wave until she didn’t think her body could take any more. But it did. And then again.
Each caress was more intense than the last. Their journey spiraled higher and higher until Erren’s muscles tightened and he joined Darby’s plummet into a freefall of sensation.
DARBY MELTED UNDER HIM. After a slight squeeze secured her in the circle of his arms, she fell asleep. She was exhausted. He should leave her alone.
He’d give her ten minutes. They should get her pictures and maybe then…
Then he’d wake her and exhaust her all over again. She fit and he didn’t want her to leave.
Darby turned into him, snuggling closer. He skimmed her arm with his fingertip. Soft, strong, sexy…
Why should he rush? Her brother was safe. They had nowhere to be. They were secure—for the moment.
Lie here and have an intimate moment with a woman. It’s been done by worse men than you.
Hell, he could play the loving boyfriend. He’d done the role a time or two. It wasn’t difficult.
The real stuff was tougher. Real emotions, real honesty—the two were elusive or nonexistent—at least in his life. He wanted to stay and enjoy. That was the problem—pleasure wasn’t in his cards. Even if they found Pike’s information, the undercover lie he led wouldn’t stop until he put Pike’s killer behind bars.
He kept his promises.
Oh, hell. What happens if I don’t want to leave her?
“Hey.” She stretched her sleek body next to his, causing the sheet to dip lower. He liked that she was comfortable enough not to cover her breasts.
It was official…. He didn’t want to leave.
She turned to face him, propping her head on her hand. The sheet fell to her waist.
“What’s it like working undercover?” There was genuine excitement in her eyes. “Is it one adventure after another?”
“There’s no James Bond intrigue involved in what I do.” He did not want to talk about his work.
“I applied several times and was denied. The transfer to the academy ended my chances.”
“Why are you so disappointed? So you got the cushy job, training cops. What’s wrong with that? Most cops want to be at the academy. Pike loved it.”
“I’ve always wanted to work undercover.”
“It’s not a life you’d enjoy.”
“Now, there you go again, making blanket statements, based on what information? Why do you assume—”
“I’m just saying you’re not the type.” She tried to sit up, but he kissed her shoulder, keeping her against the pillow, attempting to distract her.
“I suppose that’s the assumption Pike made as well by choosing Michael instead of me.”
“Pike was presented with an opportunity.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s Michael’s story to share, not mine.” The kid really had been in some trouble and Erren understood now how they’d taken advantage of him.
“I think fast on my feet. I could handle undercover work.”
“There’s more to living undercover than just lying.” There had to be a way to express how nonglamorous his way of life actually was. “Living undercover is a nonexistence. You have to be someone who doesn’t care, create a person with no memories, no morals, no anything.”
She’d closed her eyes, pulled the sheet higher.
“You care, Darby. Way too much.”
She crossed her arms over her middle. He understood. He’d once thought living undercover would be exciting.
“I was eager when the DEA selected me to go undercover. Naïve, wet behind the ears, however you want to describe it. Then Pike took me fishing. He pointed his short, chubby finger in my face and said, ‘Look here, kid, going undercover only has three results. You either get out of police work without a retirement plan, or you get taken in by the dirty money or you get dead. It’s a no-win situation.”
He wanted to get out of bed and pace. Walk. Run. Get away from every responsibility.
“You’ve obviously been successful at it.”
“Successful? I don’t have anything, Darby. The last person I cared about was murdered twelve days ago. I have no passion left for anything except finding Pike’s murderer.” He lifted a finger to her lips to stop her protest. “Until I met you.”
“That was some fancy backpedaling.” She laughed and brushed her lips across his before lying back again. “So you have no passion? Maybe you’ve been undercover too long, Erren.”
“There’s always one more case. One more thing in your life to put on hold. One more lie that’s too close to the truth.”
No more arguing or discussing. He failed at convincing this woman of anything except one thing…his passion for her was real. He kissed her long and deep, gently pinning her shoulders to the bed. “My turn to call the shots.”
DARBY AWOKE IN THE EARLY evening to a heavenly aroma. Eggs and toast?
“Hey. You hungry?” Erren asked, holding a plate of something above her head.
“Starved.” The doctor scrubs Erren had worn were close by, so she used them to cover up. “Wow. Dinner in bed.”
“And maybe something else.” He kissed her loudly. “Don’t make fun of the food.”
“I would nev—”
Erren set the plate in her lap. A slightly burned group of scrambled eggs with a slice of sandwich cheese melted across the top graced most of the plate. It was a far cry from an omelet—or even pretty—but one of the best things ever presented to her. At least the aroma was heavenly, even if the picture wasn’t quite perfect.
The toast was lightly brown, like a toaster had done its job correctly.
She smiled up at her partner and lover. “Thanks. It smells great.”
“I don’t claim to cook.”
She took a tentative bite while he watched. It really wasn’t half-bad. “Perfect.”
He laughed. “Darby, you shouldn’t try to lie to a liar.”
So, I’m always supposed to be honest with you?
“I’ll remember that.”
And remember our afternoon.
Earlier, they’d hung heavy blankets over her bedroom windows to block their movements and any light. Erren had brought her dad’s car to her garage so they were set to leave in a hurry, or stay until they determined their next move.
Right as usual, Erren said they needed rest and they’d fal
len onto the bed for a second round of resting.
They’d finally slept, completely exhausted.
Exhaustion had never quite felt as sinful as this moment. Or as dangerous.
“Aren’t you eating?”
Erren sat on the edge of bed. “Done. You know, something’s bothered me. Been nagging at my subconscious for the past couple of days.”
“Besides me?”
“Yeah.” He tugged at his chin, scratching the day’s worth of beard. “I was sent here to pick up the package.”
“And?”
“And maybe your brother intended to meet me here and hand over the information personally. The timing doesn’t work, though.”
She flexed her leg muscles, sore from the unfamiliar afternoon exercise.
“Why would he instruct me to stick with you?” She put another bite of omelet on her tongue and swallowed fast. “If he was going to meet you, that wouldn’t have been necessary.”
“So what are the facts?” he asked, seemingly determined to find what was nagging at him. “Pike gets shot before he can get the package to your brother.”
“There’s blood evidence at the scene so we know Michael was shot at the same time. And if either of them had the package…the murderers wouldn’t still be looking for it.”
“Pike sent for me, intending to give me a map to your house.” He shoved his longish hair out of his face, leaving his fingers laced together behind his head—leaving his chest flexed and a huge distraction.
“I…um… I’ve only lived here three weeks.”
“You said Michael drew the map, but he’s never been here. Did you tell him you’d moved?”
“I haven’t seen him since I moved.”
“Would Pike have told him?”
She shrugged. She didn’t know anything about Pike or her brother any longer.
“It’s more likely Michael’s been watching you himself.”
His eyes dropped to the fork she was using like a miniature baton, so she stopped her nervous habit of twirling it through her fingers.
“Michael drew the map sending you here to pick up the package, and told me to stick with you…” The solution slammed her. It was so simple. “Oh, my God, Erren. The package has been here all along.”