by Virna DePaul
“That depends,” he finally said.
She raised a brow. “On what?”
“On whether you’re still planning on leaving SIG for greener pastures. Are you?”
“Why does that matter?” She tried to inject a teasing note into her voice. Anything to break through this odd, tense mood that was coursing between them, but her attempt at humor failed. Neither of them was smiling.
“You know, the last time I went to bed with you, I woke up alone in a cold bed. You might not know this about me, but I’m a big cuddler. If we do this, if I prove my point to you, one last time,” he emphasized, “I’d like to think you’d stick around for at least that.”
The lump in her throat was as huge as the sudden compulsion to burst into tears. But nothing came close to the anticipation she was feeling. To the desire that pounded through her. She wanted Jase. She wanted to make love to him. To wallow in pure physical sensation with him.
And damn straight that included cuddling with him afterward.
She nodded.
That was all.
Just nodded.
He rose, took her hand and together they walked out of McGill’s.
* * *
SHE TOOK HIM BACK to her place despite the refurbished living room and accompanying new paint smell. They’d already made love in his bed, and she wanted to savor holding him in her own. It would also help imprint the next few hours into her memory, something she’d cherish in the years to come when she no longer had him.
Slowly, Jase tugged off his jacket and tossed it onto a chair. Next, he removed his holster and gun and laid it on the bed. Carrie stared at the gun and felt the sturdy weight of her own against her side.
“Come here, Carrie,” he said, his voice low.
When she stood in front of him, he tugged her jacket back. Obediently, she moved her arms, enabling him to ease the jacket off. With the same precise movements he’d used to remove his own holster, Jase unsnapped hers, sliding her piece off her body. Instinctively, unused to another person removing her holster, she almost reached for it, but she just managed to stop herself. Jase picked up his own holster from the bed and put both of them on the nightstand table. Within reach if they needed them, but to the side. Business making way for pleasure.
It was still a concept she wasn’t used to, but she was beginning to learn. Because of Jase.
He unbuttoned her shirt while she continued to stare at him, unmoving. Jase looked grim, his eyelids heavy with desire and intent. Their breaths were loud in the quiet room. She should be saying something, shouldn’t she? Doing something? But instead she was just compliantly letting him undress her. Why? And more importantly, as she had the first night they’d had sex, she asked herself why it felt so good to give him control. To let down her guard and be completely vulnerable to a man again. Vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to be with a man since…
Dark memories threatened to intrude, and ruthlessly she pushed them away. Jase knew she’d been raped, and as far as his theories on nature and nurture were concerned…she knew the rape had stained her belief in men. It had, in fact, stained her view on life in general, but she wasn’t going to let her past ruin this moment.
He unbuttoned her pants and tugged them down along with her lilac panties. Obediently, she stepped out of them until she was completely naked in front of him.
His eyes traveled over her body, and every inch of her warmed, as if his gaze was the lit match and her body the kindling. But still he didn’t touch her.
Why wouldn’t he touch her?
But she knew. He’d taken the lead, but he still wanted full participation from her. He wasn’t going to let her be passive, after all.
Swallowing loudly, Carrie reached out. Swiftly, she unbuttoned his shirt, then, without removing it, unfastened his pants while her mouth trailed kisses against his hard muscles. She inhaled, taking in his intoxicating scent. He smelled good. Right.
He hissed when she licked him. The evidence of her effect on him filled her with excitement, and she slipped her hand into the front of Jase’s open pants to cup him. He groaned, lifted his hands and cupped her breasts.
She jumped.
“Cold?” he whispered, his voice strained.
She shook her head. “With your hands where they are? Not at all. You?”
He barked with laughter. “With your hand where it is? Hardly.”
She smiled against his warm skin, then moaned when he lightly tweaked her nipples.
“Come up here,” he urged. “I want to kiss you.”
Obediently, she rose up, and his mouth lowered to hers.
At first, she couldn’t lose herself in the kiss. Instead, she made note of his technique. Like a good detective, she analyzed for clues based on angle, pressure and speed. How good was he? Off the charts. A world-class expert.
He pulled back, breathing hard, and narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you thinking? Why are you thinking?”
“Just that you’re a good kisser. Must be all the practice you’ve had,” she joked.
He tilted his head and frowned. She wondered if she’d made him mad.
“If you can still think that, I obviously haven’t practiced enough.” He cupped her neck, stroking it lightly. Making her feel even more vulnerable than before. “Let me in, Carrie.”
“I am. You’re here. Soon you’ll literally be inside me.”
“Not enough. Let me in. Even if it’s only for now. For as long as we’re making love. Let me past your guard.”
She blinked rapidly against the entreaty in his voice. Against the wash of tears she felt in her eyes. “Will you let me past yours?”
“Don’t you know? I lowered my guard where you’re concerned a long time ago.”
She swallowed hard, sensing the truth in his words. He’d been revealing tidbits about himself over the past few days. Not just to support his opinions, but to truly let her see him. She remembered how easily he’d shown her the knife scars at his side. And how natural it had felt when she’d kissed them. Touching someone never came that naturally to her. Being touched was even harder for her. “It’s not easy for me,” she whispered.
“I know.”
She pulled his head down and kissed him. This time, she focused on how she felt and how he felt against her. Warm. Hard. Pleasurable.
Safe. Just like before, she felt safe with him.
And that was so intoxicating to her that she felt the exact moment it happened. She lowered her guard and completely let him in.
Jase seemed to sense the difference in her immediately and responded in kind. With a ragged groan, he angled his head and kissed her deeper, while at the same time he hoisted her up so her legs tangled tightly around his waist. She pushed at his open shirt, wanting to be rid of any type of barrier between them, but he thwarted her by trailing urgent, sucking kisses down her throat and lower. With his shirt still half-on, her hands dove into his hair and guided his mouth to one aching nipple. He drew it into his mouth, sucked softly, then harder until she whimpered and arched in his arms.
“That’s it,” he whispered against her. “Give me all you’ve got, Carrie. I want it all.”
He carried her to the bed and laid her out on it, twisting himself away from the grip of her clinging legs in order to wrestle off his clothes. When she realized what he was doing, she relaxed and enjoyed the view. Against the soft, feminine backdrop of her bedroom, his muscles rippled and he thrust out heavily, eager to be inside her.
She held out her arms. “Now. Please. I don’t want to wait.”
“But you’re going to wait,” he said even as he leaned down to kiss her again. “I haven’t had a chance to taste you yet and I can’t go another second without it.”
She gasped when he grabbed her behind the knees and tugged until her legs dangled off the bed. Kneeling between them, he kissed her stomach then tickled her naval with his tongue. The protest she’d been about to utter drifted away. As much as she ached to be filled by his h
ard length, the idea of him pleasuring her with his mouth was enough to have her flinging her arms above her head and closing her eyes with anticipation.
Given everything she knew about him, she expected him to be the best she’d ever had.
She wasn’t disappointed.
He used his tongue like a lethal weapon, destroying every preconceived notion she’d ever harbored about her body or its ability to feel pleasure. The lightest of licks made her tremble, while a nip of his teeth or a firm dragging motion with the flat of his tongue had her hips arching desperately off the bed and her stifling a moan by biting her lip.
He didn’t like that. “Don’t hold back. I said I wanted everything and that includes hearing your pleasure, Carrie.”
He gave her no choice but to grant him what he wanted. His fingers dove between her legs, assured but gentle. Curling his tongue around her clitoris, he filled her channel with one thick finger, then two. He pursed his lips and sucked her. The stimulation blasted her to another time and place where only pleasure existed. Crying out, she gripped at the sheets for dear life, certain that she was going to shake apart but not caring. Whatever remained of her when this was over was his anyway.
How had she ever thought she could resist this man?
When her climax eased, she was panting and Jase was laying curled over her with one hand cupping her and one cheek resting on her stomach. Drowsily, she lifted her fingers and ran them through his hair.
“Now that you’ve tasted me,” she croaked out, “can I have you? Please?”
Slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes burned with desire and intent. Hell, yeah, they said. You can have me and then some.
Oh, my, she thought, licking her lips.
Slowly, he rose, placed his palms on either side of her head, then paused. “Take me in your hand. Guide me inside you,” he whispered.
His words had her going from sated to something else entirely. Greedily, she wrapped her hand around him. Though she intended to slip him inside her right away, she couldn’t resist sliding her hand down his length then up again. Down. Then up.
He closed his eyes and hissed. But he bore the torture she administered for several minutes before finally gasping, “Now, Carrie. Before it’s too late.”
She guided him to her entrance and he’d already pushed partly into her when she cried, “Wait. You’re not wearing a condom.”
He froze.
“Do you have one?” he said. “Please tell me you have one.”
“You don’t?” she asked, trying to tease him.
He got a desperate look in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I have one. It’s old but…”
With a grimace, he pulled out of her and she scrambled to the bathroom. When she returned, he was laying on the bed, his arm covering his eyes. He was shaking.
Vibrating with his need for her.
“Stay there. I like that position,” she said.
Quickly, she knelt beside him, rolled the condom on, then straddled him.
Before she knew what was happening, he flipped her over, gathered her wrists in one hand and stretched her arms over her head. Startled, she stared up at him.
“You’ll have to wait your turn. Right now, I need you like this. I need to ride you hard, Carrie.” But he paused, obviously waiting for her permission to continue.
She opened her legs wider. “Please” was all she said.
He thrust, cleaving into her and filling her so thoroughly that she cried out.
Again, he froze, but this time he released her wrists. “Are you—”
She clasped his ass. “Move, damn you,” she said. “Take me. Hard, just like you said.”
With a groan, he let go. Over and over again, he pulled out of her then pushed heavily back inside. Their hips slapped together, their chests rubbed, their lips caressed and their hands cherished. They were all over each other, inside each other, no part left unexplored. “Oh, God, Carrie, I’m coming,” he yelled just before she felt him release inside her.
With a final lunge, he embedded himself inside her as deep as he could go, arched his back and, with teeth clenched, groaned out his pleasure. As he did, he cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples between her fingers. It was the final stimulation she needed before being thrust into her own earth-shattering release.
* * *
JASE HELD A SLEEPING Carrie as he caressed her hair. She looked peaceful. Relaxed and content in a way he rarely saw her. Of course, that might have something to do with how charged up and tense he normally felt around her. Just like his parents, they were two live wires constantly sparking off each other. It kept things interesting, but how long could that kind of intensity survive before it turned dangerous?
Before their impassioned natures turned their relationship into something like the one his parents had once shared?
Yet there was no denying they worked well together. That his laid-back manner complemented her more in-your-face style. Look at the huge progress they’d made on The Embalmer case in a relatively short time.
Plus, Carrie had been right when she’d reminded him he’d never raised a hand to her, not even when she’d bitten him. He couldn’t imagine striking her in anger; in fact, all he could picture using his strength for was protecting her. From anyone and anything that made her feel sad or not good enough. Because she was more than good enough. For the job. For him.
But she’d made it abundantly clear that she viewed last night as a not-going-to-happen-again kind of thing.
He just wasn’t ready to give her that. But it wasn’t as if she was going anywhere. Not yet. They wouldn’t be working the same case, wouldn’t see each other nearly as often, but they’d still see each other plenty. He’d have time to adjust to his own feelings for her, and time to get her used to the idea of them together, too. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to accomplish either. All he knew was that the longer he held her in his arms, the less he wanted to let her go. Ever.
His thoughts were interrupted by her ringing phone. He swiftly picked up before it could wake her. She shifted and moaned, but didn’t open her eyes.
“Hello?”
There was a long pause followed by a sigh. “Agent Tyler?” It was Commander Stevens.
He winced and glanced down at Carrie again. Probably wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had to answer her phone. “Yes, sir. Can I help you?”
“I’m assuming Agent Ward is with you?”
“Yes,” Jase said.
“Just as well. I need to talk to both of you anyway. How long until you can be at my office?”
Not missing the tension in Stevens’s voice, Jase gripped the phone tightly. “Is there a problem?”
“Several. But at the moment, the most pressing one is a new victim. It looks like we were wrong. The Embalmer didn’t kill Kelly Sorenson. At least, it doesn’t appear so. There’s a copycat, and he’s not ready to call it quits just yet.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
SAFETY IN JASE’S ARMS. That and a whole lot of pleasure were what Carrie had been seeking. Despite the darkness and danger that had forced them to work together on The Embalmer case, she’d wanted to end that partnership with something sweet and life-affirming. And for a few precious moments she’d gotten it.
She clearly remembered that moment when she’d opened her entire heart to Jase. Soaked him in. Her fear had vanished. All her insecurities and doubts had gone with it. In his embrace, she hadn’t been planning a future with him, exactly, but she hadn’t been quite so focused on the impossibility of one, either.
Until Jase had woken her and told her about Commander Stevens’s call.
She replayed Jase’s words from the night before.
No one escapes life unscathed, Ward. That just isn’t how it works.
The safety she’d felt in Jase’s arms had been exactly what she’d thought it was.
Illusory. Temporary.
Bowers was dead, but another killer was still on the loose.
Unfortunately, despite their initial theory that the killer had targeted both Cheryl Anderson and Kelly Sorenson because of their connections to Sequoia College, Tammy Ryan had no apparent connection to the college at all. They’d immediately backtracked and returned to McGill’s with Ryan’s photo, but no one could recall seeing her, whether in Kelly Sorenson’s company or otherwise. According to family and friends, including Susan Ingram, Ryan and Sorenson hadn’t known each other. And no one they’d talked to, none of their friends and acquaintances, none of the strangers they’d managed to track down and none of the other employees who’d worked at McGill’s, could remember seeing Kelly Sorenson at McGill’s past eight o’clock the night she’d been killed.
That’s what currently troubled Carrie the most. Susan Ingram had said Kelly had called her around nine that night. It was at that time that Kelly had said she was leaving with her charity-case client. The timing of Kelly’s call had been verified by the caller ID on Ingram’s phone. Yet even though many people could remember seeing her that night, most of them recalled her leaving at about eight.
Carrie had contacted Kelly’s cell-phone company to get the records of incoming and outgoing calls from Kelly’s cell-phone number on the night she’d been murdered. However, it would take upward of two days before they could get her that information. Now, she was also waiting for phone records from Tammy Ryan. When she had both, she’d cross-check them for duplicate numbers to see if the same person, the same killer, had called both of them.