by C. J. Thomas
“I’ll go down to get something started for dinner. Do you have any food allergies?”
“None. And you asked this time. How thoughtful of you.” He snickered, remembering as I did the way I’d teased him during our first dinner. Was that only two nights ago?
“Take your time up here. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” He made a move to leave.
“Are you sure you couldn’t use help? I’d love to get my hands on that kitchen.”
He winked, looking every inch the sexy devil he was. “You’re my guest. You can cook next time.” I watched him as he walked away, his tight butt a sight to behold.
I hoped there would be a next time. I put a hand over my heart and felt the way it pounded almost out of control. Steady, girl.
Before I got undressed, I made a phone call. Mia was supposed to stop over later to borrow a pair of shoes for a date. I had to tell her I wouldn’t be there.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey, girl. I’ll be over in an hour, is that okay?”
“I’m sorry, it’s not. I won’t be there.”
“Oh? What’s happening? You don’t sound happy. Is it work?”
“Not exactly.” I explained the break-in.
“Jesus Christ! Jules, are you okay? Did you catch them?”
“No, they were gone by the time I got there. The place was wrecked, though.”
“Did they steal anything?”
“No, even my grandma’s pearls were still in their case.”
“What did they want?”
I knew I’d get the third degree, but I had to mention him. “Dan thinks they were just trying to scare me off.”
“Oh, Dan thinks that.” I closed my eyes, listening to her giggle maniacally.
“Yes, Dan. Okay? What’s the big deal?
Mia snickered. “No big deal at all. I just like how he’s involved, is all.”
“Well, you’ll love this, then. Guess where I’m calling from?”
“Not a clue. Wait. No. Don’t tell me you’re at his place?”
“Ding, ding!” I laughed at her shrieking reaction.
“Jules! Are you serious? What are you doing on the phone with me right now?”
“Relax, hot pants. I’m going to take a shower while he makes dinner.”
“Oh, and I hope for your sake he’s dessert.” We giggled, then I put a hand over my mouth and took a look through the open bedroom door. All I saw was the empty hallway.
“We’ll see. Let’s remember that it’s nice of him to have me here. I couldn’t imagine spending the night in the apartment after today.”
“Sweetie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make jokes. Do you think you’ll stay long?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought it out that far yet. One thing I do know is I’ll need help getting the place in shape. They tore it apart.”
“I’m here for you. Just say the word.”
“Thanks. I’m gonna take a shower now,” I said, venturing into the bathroom. “I might get lost in here, though. Send a search party if you don’t hear from me by this time tomorrow.”
“Is the house really that big?”
“Oh, we need to have a talk about this place sometime.” I promised her I’d call the following day, then got undressed and did my best to figure out the multi-head shower. Once I got the hang of how to adjust the temperature, there was no holding back the sigh of pleasure as the water swept over me. It was sheer heaven.
I told myself to let the stress of the day wash away, and the tension. There had to be a better way to approach everything—Emelia, Austin, Margo. My apartment. Dan. It all happened so fast, everything building up to the point where I felt nearly frantic.
I took a deep breath, then another, focusing instead on the hot water. The way it relaxed my muscles. The way the fragrant soap tickled my nose.
The way it would feel if Dan were in there with me, touching me—
Whoa there. Hold the reins. I opened my eyes, shaking my head to clear the image of a very naked Dan holding a very naked me in that very shower. I had enough going on. I didn’t need a physical relationship with Dan adding even more drama.
Still, it wasn’t a bad thought.
I threatened myself with a switch to cold water and quickly finished washing before my thoughts took me any further.
135
Dan
SHE WAS UPSTAIRS. Right now. In the shower. Naked.
I wondered if I hadn’t been spending too much time with Frank. Only he would have been so horny at the thought of a naked woman in his house—nowhere near him, really, seeing as how she was upstairs at the opposite end. I chopped the end from a baguette, wincing at the symbolism as my erect dick brushed against the side of the prep table.
She was like a drug to me. Nothing made sense. I went against all my rules—rules I’d created for good reason over the years.
Don’t get too close.
Don’t invite them to stay.
Don’t mix business and pleasure.
Here I was, doing all three at once.
I prepared a salad while waiting for the grill grates to heat on the stove. I thought she might like a simple grilled salmon with pasta and salad. Nothing fancy, but nice enough for company. I hadn’t exactly prepared for a dinner guest, so I scrambled a little to make do with what I had on hand.
It was impossible to think, though. I seasoned the pasta water, then seasoned the salmon filets. Both dishes would take only minutes to cook, so I thought I’d wait until she came downstairs to cook them.
I turned my attention back to the salad, rubbing a clove of garlic over the inside of a bowl. One thing I could put together was a mean salad, as the fridge was always stocked.
Not my mom’s idea of a salad. I grinned to myself as I remembered what her salads consisted of. Iceberg lettuce, a tomato, a few slices of cucumber and enough creamy Russian dressing to render the whole thing nearly inedible. Mom was a lot of things, but a cook wasn’t one of them.
One thing thinking about Mom did: It got rid of my erection. Good thing, too. I couldn’t have Julia walking in to the sight of me pitching a tent. How painfully obvious would it be that I couldn’t stop thinking about her?
. . . And that body. Jesus, that body.
I groaned just thinking about what she must’ve looked like, all slicked up from the water and soap. Hands gliding along her smooth skin, grazing her chest and those incredible, full breasts. My jaw clenched as I held back another groan.
What would her nipples look like?
What would they taste like?
What would she taste like?
I pressed my lips together, thinking about it. What I wouldn’t give to be between her legs, my tongue lapping up her juices.
The water boiled on the stove, spilling over, hissing when it hit the hot burner. I shook myself. Again, I had an almost painful hard-on stretching the front of my pants. I adjusted myself so it wouldn’t show as much.
Get it together. I leaned on the table, palms down, eyes closed. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She was a person, like any other person. She deserved respect and kindness. She’d been through a lot today.
The memory of the break-in was effective at steering my thoughts away from sex. Who did it? I wanted to call Frank and start an investigation but held back when I remembered nothing had been stolen. She wasn’t hurt. They hadn’t even left a threatening message. There was nothing to investigate. Calling him, pulling him away from other work I knew he was doing, would be irresponsible.
So I would have to handle it, then. He didn’t have to know. Nobody did. There was no way I’d let the asshole who scared her so badly get away with it.
The grill was hot. I sliced a few long, diagonal pieces of baguette and rubbed them with garlic, then drizzled a little olive oil on them before putting them on the grates. They would go with the salad I was putting together. I took them off the heat quickly, as soon as they charred, and set them aside.
Was it Haynes? I wondered if he h
ad it in him to terrorize a woman. Then again, we’d already considered him as a suspect in Emelia’s murder. A little light vandalism was nothing compared to that.
He would have hired someone if it was really him.
I washed lettuce, drying it carefully before ripping it to pieces with my hands. Just like I wanted to rip apart whoever thought they could screw with Julia. She was only trying to do her job, and she was one of the best.
How many reporters had I known? Hundreds? How many had I slept with? Dozens, probably. I knew the effect I had on women—men who have that effect generally take advantage of it with women they find attractive. Julia was the only one who had ever given me trouble. The rest were easy to dine and bed.
She wasn’t like the other journalists, no matter who they wrote for. At the core of all of them was a vein of self-preservation that ran deep. They would step over their grandmother’s dead body if she stood in the way of a good story. That was the nature of their business. I had known from the start that Julia wasn’t one of them.
Sure, she was ruthless in the old days. I grinned to myself as I whisked together olive oil and lemon juice for a salad dressing. She had that wide-eyed innocence in those days. Granted, I hadn’t been on the force for much longer than she’d been a reporter, but I’d lived in LA long enough to know the ropes. I had wanted to teach her back then, sort of mentor her. She’d seen through me even then. I guessed women like her, beautiful and smart, knew the effect they had on men.
It went both ways, though. They could either take advantage, or always be on their guard. I’d lucked into meeting one who could smell my bullshit a mile away.
I’d always been there for her, though. Like when that thug tried to intimidate her, the junkie singer she’d been about to expose. And he’d sent a leg breaker her way to teach her a lesson. I didn’t expect anything in return for catching the guy before he hurt her. I wasn’t about to hold it against her that she wouldn’t let me get in her pants.
Some men would have.
I’d seen it happen, detectives offering “private” services to starlets and wannabes. All to get a little action on the side and get paid while they were at it.
Maybe I was still the small-town boy at heart, but that sort of thing never appealed to me. I took a sip of my Scotch, mulling it over. I wouldn’t take a bribe, either, when plenty of others did. I didn’t need the money, thank God—for some men, that was all the reason they needed to look the other way when offered some dough. Cops didn’t make much, not even top-notch detectives.
I didn’t think I would take it even if I did need the money. Mom couldn’t make a salad to save her life, but I had no doubt she’d be on a plane to LA in the blink of an eye and kick my ass to kingdom come if she ever found out I was crooked.
What I was doing with Julia could be considered a little sketchy, though. I looked through the kitchen doorway and up the stairs, thinking about her again. I was fraternizing with a journalist, offering her protection.
Nobody asked me to do it. The captain didn’t want me to. She wasn’t in mortal danger or even anything more serious than a break-in. They happened all the time. Other victims didn’t get special treatment. What would the rest of the squad say when they heard about my heroics? Word was bound to get around—the cops in the apartment had heard me offer my house to her. Frank would probably know all about it the next time I saw him. He would never let me live it down.
I had to draw the line somewhere. I turned back to the salad, reminding myself there was a difference between taking care of a friend and jeopardizing a case. My career was still important to me, even if the girl in the shower was growing more and more important every day.
She wasn’t in the shower anymore, though. I heard her footsteps behind me and was just about to put the fish on the grill when I turned to cast a quick look at her.
My eyes took inventory. Her hair was wet, in a messy bun on top of her head. She wore no makeup, and eyeglasses—I didn’t know she needed them, and guessed she wore contacts the rest of the time. Sweatpants which usually did nothing for a woman’s body—on her, they framed her perfect ass, making it look even more enticing than her tight jeans normally did. A t-shirt which used to be from college, I guessed, but the lettering was so faded after multiple washings that it was impossible to tell which school.
She grinned, holding her hands out at her sides. Here I am, her body language told me. In all my glory.
I couldn’t reply.
I couldn’t speak.
All I could do was stare at her and get harder than I’d ever been in my life. She was even more beautiful than she’d been at dinner, more beautiful than she’d looked on the red carpet.
She floored me.
There was only one thing to do.
I turned off the stove’s burners, then went to her. Her eyes widened in surprise when she registered what I was about to do, but she didn’t stop me. I took her by the waist, pulling her to me, then placed one hand on the back of her head and guided her mouth to meet mine.
She gasped in surprise, then melted against me like butter. Her arms wound around my neck, her body pressed against mine. I groaned into her mouth, all the pent-up desire that had built over the days since we crossed paths bubbling up inside me like lava. She responded eagerly, little gasps coming from her as her mouth crushed almost painfully hard against mine. She was just as needy as I was.
I let go of her waist and found her ass and she whimpered approvingly. She held onto my neck in a vice grip, like she was afraid to let go. I pushed my way into her mouth with my tongue, and she eagerly opened her lips. Our tongues danced, and my aching cock rubbed against her slim hips as our bodies moved together.
I didn’t care that it wasn’t right. I didn’t care about her feeling vulnerable. I didn’t want to take advantage, but my body was in control. It needed her after all the years of wanting her.
And from her passionate response, I knew she needed me just as much.
136
Julia
I COULDN’T BELIEVE it was happening.
It wasn’t like the kiss by my car. That had been hot enough.
This . . . this was panty-melting.
I whimpered when his hands found my butt, kneading me, getting me hotter. His tongue swirled around the inside of my mouth, touching my tongue, and I whimpered. The flood of warmth between my legs was stunning in its speed.
I already ached for him and we’d hardly done anything yet.
His hands grasped me tighter, lifting me off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my burning mound against his hot length, rubbing frantically. I didn’t care how brazen it made me.
I needed him, all of him.
He broke our kiss to groan, closing his eyes at the friction between us. Then he sat me on the table, pushing the food aside, and lowered me until I was on my back, legs dangling off the side.
“What—” I started to ask, but anything I’d been thinking up to that moment was pushed aside by the pressure of Dan’s erection between my legs as he leaned over me to lick his way down my throat. I gasped, holding on to the back of his head, running my hands through his hair.
I wrapped my legs around him again, grinding him, while his hands slid beneath my shirt to cup my breasts. I gasped when he found my nipples, which rose to attention beneath his fingers. He flicked them with his thumbs, then squeezed my sensitive flesh.
I moaned, begging for more.
He gave me more, his hands sliding down my torso, fingers hooking inside the waistband of my pants. I lifted my hips to let him pull them down, then he caressed my legs from ankles to thighs before spreading them open.
“Mmm . . . Dan,” I whispered, closing my eyes, gasping when his tongue lapped at the cotton over my sex. It had to be soaked already, I was so wet, and he murmured in approval when he tasted me there.
“So good,” he whispered, his hands running all over my skin. I moved my hips in time with his mouth, desperate for more, and he chu
ckled at my eagerness. But he took pity on me, pulling aside the crotch of the panties and licking along my slit.
“Oh, yes!” I almost came right then, so sharp was the pleasure his tongue gave me. Again and again, he licked, teasing me, staying just to the outside of my heat. I went wild, bucking against his mouth, trying to force myself upward onto his probing tongue.
He chuckled again but didn’t let up the sweet torture.
He slid the panties off and I spread my legs to give him better access. I looked down at him, watching him as he moved closer to me. “So beautiful,” he murmured before licking me again. I closed my eyes, lost in pleasure.
“Dan . . . please . . .” My voice rasped with desire, my need too great to control. I was nearly in pain, I wanted him so badly. “You’re killing me.”
He chuckled against my skin, the vibration traveling through me like a lightning bolt. Then, the sweetest thing of all, when his tongue dipped between my lips and into my folds.
“Yes!” My body nearly left the table. I went crazy, practically speaking in tongues as Dan licked all around my button. He flicked it, then darted his tongue back and forth, then circled. Whatever I seemed to like best, he kept doing, experimenting with me. I was all too happy to go along for the ride.
It was bliss.
He held it between his teeth and flicked it rapidly, making me tense up, the pressure steadily building. Nothing else in the world mattered but my approaching orgasm, and my entire body seemed to strain toward it.
“Yes . . . Dan, don’t stop . . . I’m gonna come . . .” He licked even faster, harder, driving me insane. My head rolled back and forth, my body getting closer and closer until I screamed in complete bliss as I climaxed. Waves of pleasure washed over me, again and again, until I thought I might drown in them. It was the most intense release of my life, and I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.
I did, of course, trembling and sighing. Dan stood, pulling me up by my hands. My immediate thought was that he would take me there, and I prepared myself for it.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he slid an arm under my knees, throwing my arm across his shoulders before lifting me off the table. I sighed happily, resting against him, still quivering. He carried me up the stairs without a word, placing me on the bed.