That was all it took. The kiss should have been tender, gentle…hopeful. And honest to God, it had been all he’d intended. But lavender and vanilla wafted sensuously through his head, lighting a fire he had no interest in putting out. He framed her neck between his hands and felt her pulse leap to life under his fingertips. He deepened the kiss, his lips demanding, hungrily inhaling her unique fragrance.
Warm sunlight flickered through his closed eyes as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her forward until she straddled his lap, her long legs tight around his waist. The press of her breasts on his chest, the friction created as she settled herself more firmly against his eager erection, sent pleasure shuddering up his spine.
His hands roamed her back, down over her beautiful ass, curving in until his fingers brushed her crotch. He swallowed her deep sigh, their breath mingling along with their tongues. When he found the heated spot between her legs, a low groan fizzed in the back of his throat and his pulse ratcheted up painfully. It rocketed to the point of breathlessness as Pippa ground hard against him. His hips jutted forward, an unconscious response. Not breaking their lips apart, he stood suddenly. She moaned as his fingers brushed harder and deeper into the vee between her legs.
Jesus, he had to get her into the house and get these damned pants off her before one or both of them exploded. Each brush of her lips, every breath she took pressed her luscious breasts hard against his chest. Every sexy whimper and moan drew his balls up into his body.
Whirling on the front porch, he fumbled to get the door open while she thrust her tongue deeply into his mouth. She reached between their bodies and squeezed his cock temptingly making him stumble.
He exhaled hard. “Spitfire, stop, unless you want to do it right here on the steps.”
“There are worse places.”
“There are better places too.” They’d reached the top of the steps and he raced down the hall into his bedroom. Pausing long enough to kick the door shut with a bang, he carried her to the large, unmade bed in the middle of the room. He laid her down on the soft mattress and pulled open a drawer, grabbing a condom. He stripped off her boots and trousers before he shed his own and sheathed himself.
He didn’t take the time to pull off his shirt or hers, or to kiss his way up her tempting body. Crawling up between her spread legs, he stopped to wet his fingers and push them inside of her, preparing the way. His breath convulsed through his nearly closed throat as his fingers encountered slick, wet heat. Her shocked gasp fed the frenzy, tightening his insides, making him harder than he’d thought possible. Groaning loudly, he surged over her, driving himself home with a powerful shift of his hips.
“Ah, sweet Jesus, Pippa. That is so good.” He eased out, then thrust forward again, pushing himself deeply into her hot, welcoming body, setting a rhythm she easily matched. “You feel like silk inside. Tell me when.”
“Clay, I’m close,” she whimpered as her hips urged him to a faster, harder pace. “Oh, oh God.”
“That’s it, spitfire, that’s it.” The tiny mewling sounds she made each time he moved incited him, pushing him hard. Tingling started at the base of his spine as she convulsed around him. She announced her climax with a loud shriek that died away in a long, satisfied keening sound, pushing him to the edge and over. Thrusting harder and deeper, he captured her lips with his and groaned into her mouth as he emptied himself into her.
Arms shaking with the effort to balance his weight without crushing her, he laid his forehead on hers as aftershocks coursed through him, answered by her shivers. Nipping kisses along her jaw, he licked his way back to her mouth and dipped his tongue in, causing her to shudder and sigh. Reluctantly, he pulled out of her, slid to his side and rolled her until he had her tucked against his torso, facing him. The expression on her face was happy, sated. She opened her eyes and grinned at him.
“That was definitely not quiet afternoon sex, but it was delightful.” Pippa started humming the refrain of a familiar tune.
Was she really humming Afternoon Delight? Groaning, he stripped off the condom and pleaded, “Please don’t sing that song. I’ll have to take drastic measures to shut you up if you do.” He nudged his hips suggestively against her, making her smile more broadly.
“Can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to restrain myself.”
“Well, not everything should be restrained. Feel free to be abandoned in my bed. And you can sing, just not that song. Actually, I’d like a private, naked concert. Maybe something from Bob Welch.”
“French Kiss? That’s not suggestive at all.” She laughed, then gasped delightedly when he rolled over and let his tongue dance along her lips before surging in and out. When he finally came up for air, his voice was husky when he said, “No, this is suggestive.”
This time, it was Pippa’s turn to reach into the drawer.
* * * *
Clay kissed Pippa’s brow, drawing a sweet, sleepy smile from her, before he rolled out of the bed and searched for his jeans. He found them under the bed, where he’d kicked them in his rush to join her. He pulled them on, then gave up the search for his t-shirt, not sure where it had ended up after the second time they’d made love.
“What time is it?” Pippa asked drowsily. “I have to be home by four thirty.”
Sitting on the bed, he ran his hand across the satiny skin on her arm. “It’s just three. Sleep if you can. I’ll wake you in time.”
She tangled their fingers together and pulled them toward her chin. When her eyes lifted toward his, he lost himself in the deep ocean of blue.
“Where are you going?”
“Gotta make a call to DC. I’ll be back.”
Planting one last kiss on her lips, he left her stretching, yawning and looking sexy as sin in the tangled sheets. Jesus, what kind of idiot was he, leaving this stunning woman naked in his bed to go make a phone call? If it weren’t vital, he wouldn’t leave. As it was, he’d make it fast. He raced down the stairs, barefoot and shirtless, eager to make his call and get back to bed.
He didn’t want to alarm Pippa, but the rumbling on Homeland Security’s grapevine was that Liberty Battalion had a massive demonstration planned for Roberto Eleni’s funeral. Uneasiness shifted like a hair shirt across his shoulders with the knowledge she’d be at ground zero while she stood next to her friend at the soldier’s grave. He wanted to ask her to stay away, but knew, beyond a doubt, she’d finally break her ban on cursing and tell him to go to hell.
No, she’d go and he’d go with her, protecting her as well as he could.
Doug Burke, his contact in the agency, had emailed the advance team’s plans this morning for input, and Clay had additional information to share regarding what he knew of the town. He’d already taken Reverend Crane into his confidence and explained the need to position agents among the mourners.
He’d just hung up from speaking to Doug when a large black truck pulled up and parked next to Pippa’s Jeep. Jack Kerrigan stepped out, stared at his sister’s car, then glanced speculatively toward the house before approaching.
Clay cringed when Jack paused and stooped down to retrieve Pippa’s purse from where she’d left it when he’d carried her up the steps to his bedroom. Opening the screen door without a shirt or shoes on, in the middle of the afternoon, while Jack held his sister’s purse, would leave no doubt in the other man’s mind as to what he and Pippa had been doing. He hoped Jack would keep his opinion to himself, but if not, too damn bad. They were both adults and there was only room for two people in this relationship. Squaring up his shoulders, Clay pushed the screen door and wordlessly gestured for Jack to enter.
Jack tossed the purse down on the table by the door and faced him, fists balled at his sides. “Dammit, Mathers. This better mean you’re staying in Granite Pointe. If you fucking hurt my sister—”
“Hold up there, man,” Clay interrupted, angrily stabbing a finger at Jack’s chest. “What’s between Pippa and me is none of your business.”
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p; “The hell it isn’t. She’s my sister. There isn’t a single Kerrigan who doesn’t look out for her.”
Clay rocked up on his toes and jammed his hands on his hips, combative and spoiling to take the wind out of Jack’s argument. “Did it ever occur to you that Pippa is fully capable of looking out for herself? She’s a big girl. Isn’t she entitled to a little enjoyment?
Jack scrubbed a hand across the top of his head. “Of course she is. But she’s always going to be my little sister. She’s a loving, warm woman, and deserves better than a quick fu—affair with you. She has kids to consider. You’ve made no secret of your intent to leave town when your mom is better. How is that fair to Pippa?”
Clay’s shoulders tightened uncomfortably but he held the other man’s eyes. “Shit, Jack. Why the fuck does every one assume I can’t change my mind? For the record, I’ve already told Pippa that I’m thinking about staying. I don’t plan to hurt her.”
Jack exhaled explosively and glanced away before turning back to pin Clay with an accusatory stare. “Not now, but what about in the future? After her kids get attached to you? If you up and disappear from their lives it will crush them and Pip.”
“Is this the way it’s always going to be, Jack? Clay’s leaving, Pippa’s crushed, oh woe to the Kerrigans?” He struggled to check his temper—to remember this was a protective big brother. He lowered his voice. “The spitfire and I have barely begun a relationship, but it looks promising. We’ve agreed to keep things…discreet. She’s not planning to tell the kids anything about us. They’ll just think I’m a good friend, not a boyfriend. We’ll deal with the kids together if it’s necessary. Don’t bet against us, though.”
Jack opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut when his sister’s voice floated down the steps. “Clay, have you seen my purse? I need a hairbrush.”
Pippa descended the stairs wearing the t-shirt he should have on, and nothing else. Her eyes widened in shock and color bloomed in her cheeks when she spied her brother standing in the foyer, a mulish look on his face. She tugged the shirt hem lower over her thighs. “Oh, fiddle. What are you doing here, Jack?”
Jack averted his eyes and shifted his shoulder in her direction, as if trying to un-see his sister standing there in a man’s shirt, a serious case of bed-head and a faint stubble rash marring her cheeks. “I came to talk to Clay about some modifications to the house for when his mom comes home from Elder Pointe. I guess he wasn’t expecting me until later.”
“Oh.”
“What the hell are you thinking, Pipsqueak? Or were you thinking? He’s wrong for you and the kids. What happens when he leaves? Do you want to get—”
“Shut up, Jack!” She laughed harshly. “Not that it’s your concern, but I was thinking that Clay is a wonderful man who likes my kids and loves his mother. I was thinking he wants me, and the feeling is mutual. I’m a grown woman, fully capable of making decisions about whom I see. How I spend my time with him is my business, and mine alone. There is no room in this relationship for my family to interfere.”
Clay grinned when the spitfire echoed his own thoughts. Christ, she was the woman for him.
“Pippa…”
She held up her hand and glared at her brother. “Jack, there isn’t anything you can say that will make a difference. I came here today to end things with Clay. But I couldn’t. God help me, even if my heart breaks, I can’t do it.” She smiled tremulously at Clay, then turned her eyes back to her brother. “What’s between Clay and I is our affair. And while I love you for your concern for my kids and me, this is none of your business. So, butt out.”
“Jesus, Pippa. Could you please go put some clothes on? This is too weird for me.”
Clay bit back a terse laugh. “Too weird for you?” He grabbed her purse off the table and walked up the remaining steps to hand it to Pippa. When she reached to take it, he held on to it until she raised her eyes to his. Anxiety turned her bright blue eyes smoky and he lowered his voice so only she could hear. “I won’t break your heart, spitfire. You can count on that.”
She nodded and he released his grip on the purse and watched her flee up the stairs, reveling in the view of her luscious bottom as she climbed away from him. The smile faded from his lips as he turned to face her glaring brother. Clay descended the last steps and gestured to his office, encouraging Jack to move ahead of him. He opened the hall closet, grabbed a hooded sweatshirt and shoved his arms into the sleeves, pulling it over his head as he joined Jack in front of the picture window in the office.
“Pippa’s right,” Jack said. “It isn’t any of my business. But it’s hard to get beyond years of practice being her big brother.”
“I went through something similar with my mom when she remarried. But Tony Tombaugh was a good man, once I gave him a chance.”
Jack sighed, crossed his arms over his chest and glanced sideways toward him. “Pip deserves to be happy.”
“Agreed.”
“As long as we’re on the same page. If you’re planning to leave, Pip will understand. And she’ll cut you loose. She’s a pro at that. But you’ll take her heart when you go.”
“Granite Pointe is growing on me.” Clay was done talking about his relationship with Pippa and changed the subject. “But I think trouble is brewing. Have you heard of the Liberty Battalion?”
“The funeral-protesting idiots? Yeah, why?”
“They’re planning a big event at Roberto Eleni’s service.” He walked around the desk to pull a report off his printer and handed it to Jack. “I’m worried because the spitfire will be right in the middle of the flash point.”
Jack scanned the papers and grunted. Understanding and concern colored his expression when he looked up. “She’s not going.”
Clay swallowed a short burst of laughter. “Shit, Jack, think about what you just said. Of course she’s going. Sarah and Roberto are her friends. Wild horses couldn’t keep her away from that funeral.” Anxiety swelled like a sponge in his chest, threatening to suffocate him with the intensity of it. “She told me the kids are going too. Maybe we can change her mind about that. We can protect her. I’ll protect her. Plans are in place for an undercover squad to be scattered among the mourners, and the Patriot Honor Guard is on alert. We’ll be ready for anything. But, in case things do go south, I’d like you to be there, on Saturday. If something does happen, I’ll be tied up and want someone to take care of Pip and the kids.”
“I didn’t know Roberto well, but of course I’ll be there.” Jack looked closely at him. “You do really care about her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do,” he responded simply. He looked up sharply as he heard Pippa coming down the steps and changed the subject. “So, what modifications did you have in mind to make Mom’s move back home more comfortable?”
21
The sun barely cracked the dense clouds on Friday. This was the kind of day Pippa had loved as a child. Arriving at school in a drizzling rain, all the lights blazing through the windows, knowing this place was almost as safe as her own home, made her eager to get in the building and start her lessons. Nowadays, the world was a different place. Wars, acts of terrorism and insanity darkened days like this with an insidious gloom that rode her, and other parents, like theme music from a scary symphony.
Most of the trees had lost their leaves. It was late October, after all. Halloween was next week, to the delight of her children. She loved this time of year…usually. Today, in spite of her personal happiness, she found the dreary, cloudy day oppressive. And sad.
She’d been trying to shake the feeling throughout the morning. Fixing sunny-side up eggs for breakfast had been her first attempt to chase the blues away. Pulling on her favorite hot pink sweater the second. She’d even resorted to listening to Michael Franti in the car on the way to Woodward. His music always made her smile. Not today. Even the peppy, upbeat and happy verses couldn’t tear through the blanketing sensation of doom surrounding her.
It was more than the fact a good fr
iend would bury the love of her life tomorrow. Or knowing confrontation and disrespect would disrupt the ceremony when Liberty Battalion showed up. The anxious feeling that something sinister would happen weighed on her mind like cold, wet fog.
After parking in the staff lot at Woodward, she walked toward the building, the toes of her shoes dragging, as if resisting the need to enter. But she had appointments to keep, beginning with Daniel Robards. Cautiously optimistic about his progress after their last few sessions, she still dreaded meeting whichever version of Daniel waited for her today. Would it be the snarky, apathetic delinquent, or the boy who might be turning the corner toward normal teenage behavior? She never knew what she’d get. Today, she prayed it would be the happy kid, because they were going to review his personal theme song. In her current mood, she wasn’t sure she could deal with grumpy, oppositional Daniel.
Trepidation crept down her spine when she walked into the therapy room and found Daniel already waiting for her. The boy’s thin body slumped in the chair, loose and boneless, reminding her again of her brother, Sam, at that age. Joe, Daniel’s security escort, stood just behind the boy’s shoulder, still as a sentinel, glaring at Daniel’s back. The boy swiveled his head her direction as she walked in. His dark, angry expression morphed into an easy, welcoming grin as she approached him.
“Hey, Ms. Sanders. You’re late, but I won’t hold it against you,” Daniel said in a tone she’d never heard from him before. He teased her! The kid seemed happy, almost giddy.
“Good morning, Daniel. Joe.” She glanced at Joe as if to ask what was going on but received only a shrug in return before the guard retreated toward the door. She walked to the locked instrument cabinet and addressed her client over her shoulder. “Have you been thinking about your theme song and which instrument you’d like to use?”
Daniel stood up and moved toward her, but froze in place, a wary look in his eyes, when Joe stopped him. “Back in the chair, boy. Do not move unless I say you can.”
Hearts in Harmony Page 18