“No worries,” she replied. “A quick microwave and they’ll be hot enough.”
As she heated the food, he pulled out the plates. Watching her in secret, he compared her to the women of his past. She’s not demanding even when we argue. She’s not screaming about food getting cold. Her hair was still piled on top of her head from her bath, but the escaped tendrils had now dried and curled gently over her ears. Her face, devoid of all makeup, appeared fresh and unblemished, the porcelain complexion glowing. His eyes skimmed down the figure that even her fleece robe could not hide. A pink camisole top peeked from the v-neck opening of her robe. Her toned legs encased in pink, flannel pajama bottoms ended in green, fluffy socks. Altogether…enchanting. And cute as hell!
Just then there was a knock at the door. She looked up in surprise, but noticed Bart seemed to be expecting someone. Chad walked in carrying her small, table-top Christmas tree with the antique ornaments still hanging perfectly.
Squealing, she bounded over, clapping her hands. Bart carried the tree over to the end table next to his sofa. Placing the tree on top, he then scooted the table near a window so the lights could be seen. Plugging it in, the small tree twinkled as it illuminated the corner of the room.
She hugged Chad and invited him to dinner. He laughed, catching Bart’s head shaking behind her back. “It was no problem. This Scrooge needed a little cheer anyway,” he joked, nodding at Bart. Accepting their thanks, Chad headed back out into the night as she walked over, lovingly touching her ornaments.
Bart wanted to pull her into his arms, and cradle her close to his warmth. But I can’t. Not yet, at least.
She saw his gaze on her and cocked her head to the side. “Are you okay?”
Startled out of his musings, he grinned. “Yeah, princess. I’m great.”
They sat down to the meal, and for the first time all day, she began to relax. The warm bath combined with the warm food gave her more comfort than she had had in a while. The argument forgotten, they conversed easily.
After dinner, Bart settled back on his sofa hoping she would join him. Since when did I get almost shy around a woman? Glancing over at the table where she was still sitting as she pulled out her art pad and other papers, she seemed engrossed in her work. Firing up his laptop, he reviewed the latest information from Luke. So far they had no idea who would be threatening Faith. Great, just great.
At the table, she flipped the pages Bart had studied earlier, comparing them to notes she had jotted down after their interviews. She closed her eyes, trying to still her mind, but nothing came to her. No more visions of the boy and no inspiration from the criminals they interviewed.
Suddenly a hand came down on the table next to the drawings and a voice at her ear, said, “How’s it going?”
Jumping, she replied, “Jesus, Bart! How do you move so quietly?”
“Sorry, princess. I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you,” he said, resting his other hand on her shoulder. “You’re concentrating so hard over here and I thought I’d see if you were coming up with anything.”
She twisted around, looking at him suspiciously. Seeing nothing but sincerity, she shook her head. “No. Not at all. The images of the boy are completely gone and when I look at all of these…these…horrible people,” pointing to the other pictures, “I get nothing.”
Sliding down into the chair next to hers, he asked, “I know you’ve explained how you work and, seeing these pictures, I can now understand why you are so good at what you do. These are not anything like the typical police artist renderings. You can see the emotion in the details.”
“I do like helping the police, but I really like working with the children.”
“If I’d had an art teacher that looked like you, I woulda never skipped art,” he joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
She smiled at his words, allowing the warmth of them to slide over her. Turning back to the pictures of the boy on the bed, she sighed. “Bart, I have no idea if this is Erik. Or, even if it is, is it where he is now or could this just be his room?”
Staring at the picture, Bart said, “Faith, if it is Erik, it can’t be his room—you drew a wall behind his bed but his actual room has a window.”
Sucking in a deep breath, she jerked her head to the side, her wide-eyed gaze finding his. “You’re right!”
Chapter 18
“I’m telling you to look harder,” Bart ordered into the phone.
“And I’m telling you that I did,” Mitch argued back. “We’ve gone over her drawings and there’s nothing to suggest the boy is actually Erik and, if it is, there’s nothing in the details to give us any information at all.”
“Fuck!” Bart bit out, his hair already sticking out at strange angles.
“Listen, man. No one wants to have her help more than me. She’s special, but she can’t help if she can’t see anything. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you just take care of Faith, keep her safe, and let us worry about Erik. We’re at the end of a week and the Bureau is on it…I swear.”
Bart disconnected, but his frustration had him on edge as he looked across the room at the dark, soulful eyes of Faith. “I’m sorry, princess, but he says there’s nothing to go on.”
She nodded, her face sad as she walked over to him. Stopping short of his body, she placed her hands on his broad chest, the feel of taut muscles underneath her fingertips. A bold move for her, but she desperately wanted human contact. “I had hoped I could help,” she said, the loneliness creeping through her words. “I’ve never seemed to understand the visions like my grandmother did. What purpose is it to have a gift if it can’t be used for good?”
A tear hung on her lashes and before he could stop himself, he lifted his hand, wiping the escaping drop from her cheek. Pulling her in, he lowered his head.
She watched as his lips moved slowly, the excruciating wait sending her rising on her toes to meet him.
The kiss began as a bare touch. The slightest whisper of lips gliding over lips. Even with only a few shared kisses, the heady taste of him already familiar. As his tongue traced her mouth, she felt the quivering move from her womb outward, settling in her pussy. She tightened her legs together for a moment, trying to still the tingling. I want this man. All of him. In all of me. Never more sure of anything in her life, Faith moved her legs to straddle one of his thick thighs in an effort to get closer. Now that he was nearer, she pressed her crotch on his thigh rubbing to ease the need for friction.
Bart felt her breasts pressed against his chest and as soon as her pussy was rubbing on his leg, he was nearly undone. He wanted this woman more than he had ever wanted anyone, but hesitated. She’s no fuck. Trying to figure out how to make what was going to happen special, he realized she pulled back, a question on her face.
As she attempted to extradite her body from his thigh, she felt the deep blush rise from her neck upward. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I…thought—”
“Oh no, princess. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted another woman. It’s just that—”
As soon as she heard those words, she stood on her toes, interrupting him with a kiss. He felt her lips on his once more. The sweet scent of her filling his nostrils. Sealing her mouth with his, the kiss became the answer to all their insecurities at once. Not slow. Not deliberate. The kiss went straight to white hot, scorching.
Their need met in the tangling of their tongues, each vying to see who could discover the other more. His arms snaked around her, easily lifting her body to press to his, cradling her as well as devouring her.
He pulled away from her lips, letting them trail across her cheek toward her ear where he whispered, “Give it over, princess. Let it go.”
With a moan as his mouth found hers once more, Faith let go of her frustration, allowing his talented lips to carry her away from the worries of the night.
He sucked, nipped, licked, and soothed as he devoured her essence. She tugged on his hair as he captured her moans. Angling his head for deeper ac
cess, he continued to ravage her mouth. He realized he rarely kissed the women he had been with. Kissing was intimate. Jesus, if Faith heard that, she’d roll her eyes and tell me that sticking my dick in someone should be intimate. Suddenly unsure, he pulled back slowly to peer deeply into her eyes. What does she need?
Seeing the uncertainty in his expression, Faith smiled, linking her hands behind his head and leaning in so her lips were a whisper away from his. “I want you,” she breathed against his mouth. “I want this.”
Growling, he captured her lips again and, holding her easily, stalked toward the stairs. This time, he bypassed the guest room and turned into his room, walking until her legs were against the king-sized bed.
He lowered her feet to the floor, desperately wanting to do the right thing. Her breasts pressed against his chest and tugging loose the belt, the desire to taste them was overwhelming. As he held her with one hand on her ass, the other intimately caressed her smooth skin around to her ribcage, just to the underside of her breast.
He hesitated, uncharacteristically nervous. “Princess, you’ve got to know that I want you. I want this, but only if it’s what you want. You say the word and we stop.”
“No, don’t stop. Please, Bart. I’m so tired of being lonely.”
As though cold water rushed over him, he halted, gently pushing her back, his eyes boring into hers.
“Oh, no, babe. This means something to me. It needs to means something to both of us. I don’t want this to just be what you use to forget.” In the past, making a lonely woman less lonely for a night was his specialty. But not now. Not her.
Irritation slashed across her face as she pushed the rest of the way out of his arms. “What?” she asked incredulously, stepping back as she wrapped her arms around her middle. “Can you honestly tell me that you haven’t gotten lost in the arms of a woman before just because you wanted to forget some case you were on?”
“Dammit, Faith,” he huffed. “That’s not fair, and you know that’s not what this is.”
“I don’t know what this is,” she bit back, frustration pouring off her. “Your reputation hardly bespeaks of someone who gets emotionally involved.”
“I told you it was always clear with any woman I’d been with that it was only physical. With you, I never said that because it’s not just physical.” His hands landed on his hips, itching to pull her back in and kiss the confused expression off her face.
Jesus, he thought, How’d things get so fucked up? Sucking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly as he surveyed the confusion in her expression. Cupping her cheek, he said, “You’re right, Faith. I’ve never told you any different so how could you know.” He paused, then added, “Hell, this is all new for me, too.” He slid his hand from her face down to her hand and laced his fingers through her delicate ones. Giving a little pull, he tugged her so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. He dragged a chair closely so that when he sat, his knees encased her legs on either side.
“Right now, this,” he said, pointing between the two of them, “is as real as it gets. You need to believe that I have never had another woman in this house, other than my mom, Sabrina, or Miriam. Never. This is my place and not where I ever brought a hook-up.” He watched her dark eyes grow wide as he gave a nod, making sure she was following him.
“And if this were only physical, I’d have said so, but it’s not.” He reached to her lap, engulfing her small hands in his much larger ones, moving his fingers over her soft skin. “Princess, in less than a week, you’ve gotten to know me more than any other woman and I sure as hell know you more than anyone else in my life.” Before she could respond, he added, “And I love what I know.”
She lowered her gaze to their clasped hands, watching as he held them gently. Lifting her eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity in the deep blue orbs. “I…I didn’t mean to debase what was happening between us,” she admitted. “I’ve just been alone for such a long time and well…if sex was all you were offering, I was willing to take it.” She gave a little snort, saying, “I know that makes me like the other women, willing to take what I could get, even if I knew it would hurt that it couldn’t be more.”
“This is not about sex to me,” he vowed. “Not with you. This is real. This is emotion. I don’t have a clue what else it can be since I’ve never gone down this road, but I’m willing to give it my all to find out.” He moved his head in closer, his heart pounding nervously. “That is, if you’ll have me.”
Gifting him with her smile, she whispered against his lips, “Yes, I want you.”
Fighting the urge to move swiftly, he forced himself to go slow. Take his time and savor every flavor and feeling. His fingers itched to glide along her silky skin but, more than ever in his life, he wanted this woman to feel treasured…and know she truly was treasured.
They stood again, this time toe to toe, before he lifted her in his arms. All she felt was his lips on hers, his hand on her ass, and she wanted it all. The kiss flamed white hot once more, stealing her breath.
She tugged her arms out of her robe before grasping the bottom of her shirt and jerking it quickly over her head, pulling away from his kiss just long enough for the material to pass between them.
Her breasts, covered in a functional, white bra, looked delectable to him. All other thoughts of silk or satin undergarments flew from his mind. His knees almost buckled, but not from her slight weight. He moved his lips from hers, trailing kisses from her neck to the top of her breasts. With a flip of his fingers, the front-clasp popped open and the bra quickly fell away.
She gasped as the cool air moved over her exposed breasts, her nipples pebbling tightly both from desire and cold.
Alternating from one to the other, he sucked her nipples until he thought he would go mad with want.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him tighter, feeling the distinct bulge in his pants. A very large bulge. I’m no virgin, but it’s been a really long time, she thought, as she moved her core against his erection. She grasped his chiseled jaws with her hands for another kiss, plunging her tongue in, tasting all that was him.
Not recognizing the moan coming from himself, he bent with her still in his arms to grab the comforter, tossing it down. Laying her gently on her back, he stood over her partially naked form. Her perfect breasts beckoned but, before he could answer the call, she slid her hands down to push off her socks and pajama bottoms. Smiling, he leaned over her body, resting his weight on either side of her. “I’ve got this, princess. Unwrapping this gift is just for me.” He took over, sliding the bottoms down her legs, taking her white panties and green fuzzy socks with them.
“Perfection,” he said, looking down at her. It had not escaped his thoughts that a week ago, she was the last woman he expected to be with—or fall for. Easy women with no expectations of cuddling afterward were his forte. A sweet woman who made him think of a future longer than just one night was not on his radar. Now, she was all he could think about.
His hands reached for her tiny feet and lifted them. Sliding up her legs, he moved them apart, exposing her pink folds. Kneeling on the floor between her legs he kissed from her knees upward until his mouth covered her pussy. Sucking hard, he licked along her slit, lapping her juices until he pulled her clit into his mouth. Jesus, I could come right now.
“Bart,” she moaned, trying to pull on his hair to bring him back up. “I need you.”
“Not until you come, babe. I want you ready to take all of me when I finally get inside of you.”
His words barely filtered in as her body began to quiver from deep inside, sending bolts outward. She arched off the bed and he splayed his fingers on her pelvis to hold her still. She began to writhe more, her hips undulating upwards, seeking sweet relief. He added a finger into her pussy while still sucking on her clit. The feelings were overwhelming and moans escaped her as she felt herself climbing higher and higher until she cried out his name as the tremors overtook, shattering her into a million pieces. As the
spasms slowed, she barely lifted her head off the mattress to see his smiling face looking up at her.
He lapped her juices before raising up from the floor, placing his finger in his mouth, not wanting to miss a single taste. He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. His hands went to his jeans, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could.
As he shucked his jeans, her eyes traveled down from his wide shoulders to his naked chest. She looked at the intricate tattoo on his shoulder. It appeared to be some kind of bird with a trident, an anchor, and a gun. That must be from his SEAL days. She had never been attracted to tattoos, but this one made her want to discover it in detail…with her tongue.
As her eyes continued their path downward, she confirmed what she already knew. Powerfully built, with massive chest muscles, chiseled abs, and a tight stomach that ended in a perfect V traveling downwards. Her gaze caught the glint of silver on his chest and, at first glance, she determined it was a pendant. Hmmm, that must be important. Before she could process it further, her gaze automatically continued down to the end of the delicious V. Now that his jeans and boxers were off, her eyes feasted on his cock. She gawked at the pure, male specimen standing in front of her.
The realization washed over her that he had been with many women—more experienced, more sexy, more…everything.
He saw her expression go from desire to uncertainty. Leaning over, he placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, surrounding her with his presence. “What’re you thinking, princess? If you’re unsure about this, we can stop.”
Her eyes looked down as she struggled for the right words. “I know you…uh…have had a lot of…uh…partners—”
“I’m clean,” he said, “but I’ve got condoms. You’re safe with me, I promise. I get tested—”
“No, no,” she interrupted, her blush flaming her face. “That’s not what I meant.” Pulling in her lips, she kept her eyes on his chest, not willing to look directly at him.
Seeing Love: Saints Protection & Investigations Page 18