But she couldn’t.
Because she wanted so much.
Impatience goaded her as she pulled at his jeans. Anticipation tantalized her as she felt him tug away her underwear.
With the last of the clothing gone, she pressed her body to his, glorying in the hardness that she felt against her.
It took her breath away.
And yet, it wasn’t his body that caused this all-consuming hunger within her. There was something more, something about the man himself.
Her head was spinning.
She was only vaguely aware that he had lowered her to the floor and that she was twisting beneath him, seeking the heat of his body until it was pressed against hers, hard, demanding.
She moaned as his mouth found hers again. The intimate contact sent her pulse soaring. She pulled him closer to her.
It was like walking into the center of a raging bonfire. Willingly.
What was happening consumed her, burned away the layers of self-preservation that had always cocooned her and exposed the very vulnerable, very tender center that she had always tried to protect.
Where her heart lived.
Lukas could feel his blood rushing through his body, could feel the need slamming through him with the force of a sledgehammer, begging for the final release.
And yet he held off as long as he could, wanting to savor his trip through this uncharted territory, wanting to pleasure her almost more than he wanted to enjoy that pleasure himself.
Damn, what was happening to him? What was she doing to him?
He had no answer, he just didn’t want it to stop.
It wasn’t enough to explore her body with his hands, Lukas felt the need to taste each part, as well, to sample the flavors there.
Slowly, his breath tantalizing her flesh, he trailed his lips and tongue along the outline of her breasts, the hardened peaks of her nipples, the tempting dip of her quivering belly.
He heard her breathing dissolve into quick, hard gasps as she moaned his name, reaching for him. Gratified, enthused, he kept on tantalizing her even though he felt as if at any moment, he would self-destruct.
His mouth moved lower, suckling, teasing, until Lukas reach her very core. He heard Lydia catch her breath, felt her stiffen as he drove his tongue into the most sensitive part of her.
Hot ice rained over her, blotting out everything as Lydia tried to grasp hold of something with which to anchor herself. There was nothing. Nothing but this overwhelming sensation.
Building.
An explosion racked her body as the sweet agony of a climax came to her.
Exhausted, she fell back, only now realizing that she had raised herself up on her elbows, the better to absorb the sensation.
A second assault came in the wake of the first, creating waves, making things happen to her she would have sworn weren’t possible.
Groaning, panting, she felt herself sinking into the carpet.
“It’s a federal offense to kill a special agent,” she gasped.
The next moment, she realized that she was looking into his face. He had pulled himself up, snaking along her body until he was over her, his hard torso poised above hers.
“Killing you isn’t what I have in mind.” His breath undulated along her skin, caressing her.
With her last ounce of strength, she framed his face with her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him hard.
She arched her body against his, her flesh calling to his.
He slid into her then, wanting to move slowly, finding he had no say in the matter.
Sheathed within her, Lukas began to move urgently, knowing that the time for hanging back was long since gone. He was no more in control of the situation than she was.
Lydia would have readily testified before the highest court that she had no energy left within her, yet somehow she matched him, moving as urgently, as swiftly, as he. Wanting the same goal.
Wanting more than anything to reduce him to the same quivering mass of flesh to which he had reduced her.
The climax that overtook him was hard, prolonged, and sapped every single ounce of his strength.
With his heart pounding, vibrating throughout every inch of his body, Lukas finally sank down against her. He tried to move off to the side to keep from crushing her, but he wasn’t sure if he was able to.
Even so, he wanted her again. He couldn’t help wondering if this was somehow tied up to some subconscious death wish.
“So, was it good for you?” she whispered against his ear, trying very hard to sound at least a little flippant. There was no way she wanted him to know just how greatly affected she was.
“Good?” She felt his mouth curve against her cheek in a smile. Something stirred within her belly. And within her loins. “I don’t think they’ve invented the word to describe what just happened here.”
Because his pride demanded it, Lukas raised himself up on one elbow. It was about all he could manage for the moment.
Her lips were smudged with the imprint of his mouth, and her eyes seemed slightly unfocused as she looked up at him. He realized that Ms. Special Agent was as devastated by what had taken place here as he had been. Good. He would have hated to think that he’d been the only one flattened here tonight.
Lukas shifted a little to the right. “Am I hurting you?”
Lydia slowly moved her head from side to side. There was no question that she was completely exhausted. And yet, something distant within her was asking for it to happen all over again.
More than that, she wanted to curl her body against Lukas and just take comfort in his presence. As if they were two lovers instead of just two people who had given in to a consuming physical need.
The desire to curl up against him carried implications that were far more intimate than what had just occurred here.
It scared her.
“I’m not sure I’d know it if you were,” she told him. “My body’s numb.”
Lukas shifted again, this time more languidly. He began to trail his fingers over her belly and watched as it quivered in response. If that was numb, then he was a Texas Longhorn.
He grinned at her. “You might want to get a second opinion on that.”
She was feeling things again. Deep-seated hunger began to rise. How was that possible? She didn’t have enough strength to be poured into a shot glass and yet he was stirring her again. Making her want him again.
This was insane.
She had to get out of here before she made a complete fool of herself. Lydia began to sit up, her intent to leave clear, but Lukas laid a gentling hand on her shoulder.
His eyes were beginning the process all over again. The one that held her in place.
“You don’t have to be anywhere yet, do you?” he asked quietly.
She wanted to lie, to tell him that she had things to do, calls to make. An entire computer database to search through.
But all she could say was, “No.”
There was no triumph in his voice, only satisfaction. “Good, neither do I.”
Inclining his head, Lukas kissed her softly, touching only his lips to hers.
Knowing what lay ahead, she dissolved just as swiftly.
And then she felt his smile against her mouth. Lydia pulled her head back, looking at him sharply. Was he laughing at her?
But the smile was kind, gentle. Utterly disarming. He cupped her cheek with his hand, his eyes delving into hers. Touching her soul. “What do you say that this time, we go slowly?”
They’d hardly begun and already her breath was growing short, eluding her. Slow would be a very good way to go. Slow, so that she could savor every moment, every nuance.
Even so, she felt an urgency beginning to build and it was going to be a challenge to hold it in check. She didn’t want to be the one who seemed eager here.
“We seem to be in agreement again.”
He smiled into her eyes. “Good.”
And then, Lukas brought his mouth down to hers
and made the rest of the room fade into oblivion.
She never slept more than a few hours at a time anymore. It was because she never knew when she’d have to bounce up, alert and ready to go. She called them catnaps and made the most of them, training herself to feel refreshed whenever she woke up. It was a case of mind over matter.
When she opened her eyes, night still littered the corners of the room. It took her only a moment to orient herself. She was in Lukas’s living room. They’d fallen asleep on the floor, she realized, too exhausted to summon the strength even to make it to his bedroom.
The heavy weight she felt sealing her in place was his arm. It was draped across her chest, not possessively so much as protectively.
She tried not to dwell on that.
God, what had she been thinking, letting this happen? She moved her head, looking around, trying to find out a shape that would turn out to be her clothes. Where were they? She hadn’t exactly been giving them her full attention when he’d undressed her.
This wasn’t like her. She should have left hours ago, Lydia upbraided herself.
She didn’t want to be here when he woke up. She hadn’t the foggiest idea what to say to him. Holding her breath, she eased herself out from beneath his arm. The light hair on his arm tickled her skin, sensitizing it as she wiggled free. She could feel goose bumps forming.
Probably just the cold, she told herself. Rising to her knees, she wondered if her legs were going to be able to support her once she tried to stand. Taking no chances, she braced her hand against the edge of the sofa and slowly rose. Her legs felt like day old Jell-O.
Damn, what had happened to her last night? she wondered, her annoyance growing. And why had she let it happen?
Simple, because she’d had no say in the matter. It was like standing in the path of a storm. Lydia felt as if she’d been broadsided by a force far greater than anything she’d ever encountered.
She didn’t like the fact that she’d succumbed so completely. It tarnished her own self-image. She was supposed to be bigger than that, stronger than that. After all, he was just a man.
Granted, he was better-looking than most, more exciting in a sexy, turn-of-the-last-century kind of way, but that wasn’t supposed to matter to her. She was an FBI special agent, for God’s sake. That was supposed to mean something, wasn’t it?
It was supposed to mean that she didn’t turn into a plate of mush because some heart-throb heart surgeon kissed her.
She spotted her clothes strewn all over the floor next to the coffee table.
The sooner she got out of here, she told herself, scooping up her bra and blouse, the better.
“Planning to sneak off?”
She spun around, startled, holding the clothes she’d gathered against her. Lukas was propped up on one elbow, looking at her. She blew out a shaky breath, grasping at bravado.
“You’re lucky I didn’t have a gun on me.”
His eyes swept over her very slowly, making her warm. She could literally feel them as they traveled down the length of her body. Could feel his smile as he asked, “Where would you keep it?”
“That’s not the point,” she retorted. Seeing her skirt, she added it to the pile she held against her. Lydia was more than a little aware of the fact that aside from the clothing she was trying to hold against her, she was completely nude. “You’re not supposed to surprise an FBI special agent.”
“Why not?” he asked mildly. “The FBI special agent surprised me.”
What was that supposed to mean? She was ready for a fight. Wanted a fight. Anything that would make her feel in control again.
“Why? Didn’t you think I was human?”
“I knew you were human, just not that human.” Waiting for some kind of crack, she saw him run his tongue along his teeth instead.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking to see if any of my teeth are loose.” He pretended to test the soundness with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m surprised we didn’t create some kind of vortex last night. It got pretty intense at one point.” At all points, he thought. If someone had told him the earth moved, he wouldn’t have disputed it.
But he still didn’t know how he felt about that. Or how he wanted to feel.
Lukas rose, completely unselfconscious in his nakedness. He nodded toward the kitchen. “Want some hot coffee?”
What she wanted was hot, all right, but it didn’t have anything to do with coffee. He was testing her, she thought. Well, damn it, she could pass. She could handle any test sent her way. Her eyes never leaving his, she raised her chin defiantly.
“Coffee sounds good.” With deliberate nonchalance, she picked up her underwear and tucked it beneath the skirt she was holding. “Mind if I shower first?”
His jeans in his hand, he turned to look at her. He found himself wanting to join in. But saying so left him open to too much. So instead he shrugged into his jeans, foregoing the briefs that were at his feet. “Go right ahead.”
She was staring, she realized. In danger of swallowing her tongue if she formed an answer, Lydia settled for nodding her head and went off to take her shower. A cold one.
Chapter 9
Her hair was damp and curling with riotous carelessness around her face as she came down the hall less than fifteen minutes later. She didn’t look like an FBI special agent, but some kind of golden-haired sprite he vaguely recalled his mother telling him about when he was a child and had needed to be lulled to sleep.
The coffeemaker stopped making gurgling sounds. The coffee was ready. Lukas moved two mugs into position and filled each. “You’re fast.”
“Another occupational habit.”
Part of her had debated leaving without even coming into the kitchen. But that would have been cowardly and she didn’t tolerate cowardice, least of all her own. Especially since she had no idea what there was to be cowardly about.
She accepted the large mug he placed into her hands like a sacred vessel containing life-giving liquid. “Thanks.”
Holding on to the mug with both hands, Lydia drank deeply, letting the hot, steamy liquid unfurl within her. Hoping it would burn away everything in its path and force her to focus her attention on the heat it generated and nothing else.
Like him.
Like the night they’d spent together.
Her body still felt as if it was vibrating from his touch.
The sigh that escaped her lips as she put the mug on the counter was part contented, part edgy.
Hearing it, Lukas smiled, remembering that the same sound had echoed in the air last night.
So where did they go from here? he wondered. Did they pretend last night hadn’t happened, or act as if it was just a casual encounter that had momentarily heated up?
Had it been a casual encounter? He didn’t know. He knew he would rather it had been, because that would have meant no complications, but he just wasn’t sure.
Right now, his world looked as if it was in jeopardy of being upended and he had no idea how he actually felt about that.
Lukas retreated to safer ground. “Want any breakfast?”
“No, I—”
Sudden rhythmic beeps had her looking down at the pager at her waist. It had taken some doing to locate the device this morning after her shower. Somehow, it had managed to get itself kicked under the sofa.
She recognized the number. It was Elliot’s. Why wasn’t he calling her on the cell phone?
“I have to make a call,” she told Lukas as she reached into her pocket.
Lukas started to nod when he heard his own pager go off. “Looks like we’re both in demand this morning.”
Lukas couldn’t help being relieved that they wouldn’t be faced with making small talk over mugs of cooling coffee. He wasn’t sure just what he would have said. For the first time in years he felt uncertain about a situation.
The number belonged to the hospital rather than the answering service that took his office calls after hours. Lukas picked up t
he receiver from the wall phone and pressed the second speed dial button. Cradling the receiver against his neck and ear, he turned to watch Lydia. She had her back to him, her voice low as she spoke on her cell phone. There was a small, zigzag damp spot on her back where her towel hadn’t reached.
He wondered what she would have said if he’d followed his first impulse and gotten into the shower with her.
The object wouldn’t have been water conservation. He’d wanted to make love to her again. Still wanted to. Last night had been like nothing he could ever remember. So much so that he was beginning to doubt his own memory. Further exploration would be called for if he was ever to have any peace of mind.
He heard someone pick up on the other end. “This is Dr. Graywolf, you paged me?”
“Hi, Dr. Graywolf, this is Wanda,” the cheery voice was laced with familiarity. “Sorry to bother you so early but we’ve got a patient who walked in here and he insists on seeing you.”
Her back still to him, Lydia was bending to pick up the pen she’d just dropped. He watched her skirt ride up the back of her legs and felt something tightening in his gut. Definitely hadn’t gotten his fill last night, he thought.
“What’s this patient’s name?”
“That’s just it, Doctor,” the woman told him, “the man won’t give us one. But he refuses to see anyone else except you. Said you would understand once you got here.”
“‘He,’” Lukas repeated, trying to think of someone he knew who would want to play games like this. But no one came to mind. None of his patients were shy about their identities. This didn’t make sense. “What does this ‘he’ look like?”
“Well, that’s the funny thing. He looks a little like you, except a lot older.” There was an embarrassed pause. “I mean…”
Wanda was obviously stumbling over her own tongue. She’d been practically the first person he’d met when he’d come to work in the E.R. and he was fond of the older woman. Lukas put her out of her misery.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. If this mystery patient’s suffering any immediate discomfort, have Dr. Reynolds take a look at him,” he instructed. A senior cardiac surgeon, Wyatt Reynolds lived across the street from the hospital. Since his wife’s untimely passing six years ago, he made himself almost constantly available for any medical emergencies at the hospital if there was no one on duty to take over.
In Graywolf’s Hands Page 10