Melting Point

by Debra Cowan

  She inhaled sharply, quivering when he put his mouth on her through the silk of her panties. Panting his name, she arched into him, her fingers curling against his scalp.

  After long seconds, or maybe minutes, he looked up. Her half-lidded gaze met his. She looked dazed. Hungry. He moved to lie down beside her, propping himself on one elbow while his other hand slid between her legs. “I want to be up here so I can see you,” he murmured.

  Her eyes were hot, needy; her creamy skin flushed. She reached up and lightly grazed the bandage at his temple then his injured shoulder. “Are you too sore to do this?”

  He laughed. “Blaze, all I feel is you. And you feel too good to quit.”

  He kissed her, slow and long as he stroked a hand up her smooth inner thigh, one finger stealing beneath the elastic leg band and into her silky heat.

  Making a small sound, she pushed into his touch, baring her throat, her body.

  He pulled back, watched her face as he slid in another finger. “You’re gonna kill me.”

  “I’m…pretty sure…you’ll kill me first.” She was breathing hard, her breasts straining at her bra.

  Still massaging her intimately, he dipped his head and curled his tongue around one budded nipple, drawing her into his mouth and tasting her through the flimsy fabric. He did the same to the other breast, pushing off her panties.

  Her fingers delved into his hair, and she tugged him up. “Kiss me.”

  He took her mouth, moved his hand to flick open the front catch of her bra. She spilled into his palm, white and soft and perfect. His thumb rasped across one rosy nipple.

  She shifted restlessly, unzipping his pants. Her voice was honey and smoke when she said, “I want to touch you, Collier.”

  Heat shot through him like a rocket. He wouldn’t last five minutes if she started in on him.

  She rolled into him, nudged him onto his back. He ran his hands up the backs of her firm silky thighs, cupped her bottom.

  “Don’t distract me. I really want to see that scar. And the rest of you.”

  He toed off his shoes as she worked his slacks off along with his boxers. She followed the clothes down his body, kissing his chest, his stomach, his scar, lower. Need boiled inside him. She laved his injured knee, then flicked her hot tongue against his straining flesh before coming back to his belly. She scraped her teeth lightly over the old burn, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “Come here, Blaze.” He dragged her up his body. “Give me your mouth.”

  She met his kiss fiercely. Wrapping his arms around her, he sat up on the edge of the bed. She locked her legs around his hips and sank down, gloving him in tight, velvet heat. Pure, sharp pleasure pierced him, and for an instant Collier thought his heart stopped.

  He looked into her gorgeous blue-green eyes, felt his chest tighten as a savage urge to take, to claim swept through him.

  She clasped his face in her hands and kissed him as he trailed his fingers down her silky back and curved his hands over her bottom. She moved on him, her soft breasts teasing the hair on his chest. His heartbeat roared in his ears. Wanting to see her, he broke the kiss.

  Her eyes were closed, her face flushed and glowing. Radiant.

  “Kiley, look at me. Open your eyes.”

  She did, and the near surrender, the dark desire there sent him hurtling toward the edge. He held off until he felt her reach her peak. Then he nudged her over and shot with her into oblivion.

  She moaned his name and he collapsed back onto the bed, bringing her with him. Still joined, they lay there in languorous silence as their pulses slowed. Her cinnamon scent and the tantalizing smell of warm woman mixed with his aftershave. He stroked one hand up and down the velvet column of her back, kept the other one on her neck, holding her to him.

  “That…was incredible,” she said lazily into his chest.

  And then some. He grunted in agreement, feeling as if his spine were jelly. Her skin was lotion soft, creamy and pink with an occasional smattering of freckles in unexpected places like a little secret hidden just for him. On her left shoulder. The small of her back, behind her right knee. One lone freckle on the swell of her breast. He wanted to kiss them all. “Man, you are gorgeous.”

  She looked up, pleasure flaring in her eyes. “You surprise me, McClain. You’re not like what I thought you’d be.”

  “In a good way or a bad way?”

  “Good.” She lifted herself enough to kiss him, long and soft, sighing when she drew away. “Definitely good.”

  The taste of her, the feel of her bare skin against his pumped through his system like a drug. “You ever been engaged? Or married?”

  “No,” she said, shifting a little to the side, scraping her fingernail lightly over the scar on his belly.

  Her teasing touch had his muscles clenching. “I was just thinking that you know about my past, but I don’t know much about yours.”

  “Judging from what just happened,” she murmured, “I’d say you know the important stuff, McClain.”

  He grinned. “Glad you enjoyed it, but I’m talking about long-term relationships. Ever had any of those?”

  She stilled, unease suddenly pulsing from her.

  “Why hasn’t some guy snatched you up by now?”

  After a slight hesitation, she answered breezily, “They’re all afraid of my gun.”

  He hugged her to him. “C’mon, tell me. Are you the girl who can’t be caught? Because of how your dad treated your mom?”

  Another pause, then she shrugged. “He sure didn’t make me want to get married.”

  “Not ever?”

  “No. What about you?” she asked quietly, brushing her thumb back and forth across his nipple. “Think you’ll ever get engaged again? Married?”

  For once his usual vehement denial didn’t surface. “I don’t know.”

  “If you do, I hope it won’t be for a long time.” Just like that, she rolled away from him and rose, snatching a long, terry cloth robe from atop a hope chest at the foot of her bed.

  He sat up and snagged her wrist, the bedding a rumpled tangle beneath him. “You all right?”

  “Sure. I’m just going to take a shower.” She pushed her thick mane of tousled hair over her shoulders, glancing around the room. “Um, I think your pants are under the bed. If you’re gone by the time I finish, I’ll see you in the morning at the police department to interview Alan Embry.”

  He recalled her words about getting each other out of their system. His thumb brushed across the pulse in her wrist. “Are you kicking me out, Blaze?”

  She blinked. “No. Not at all, but I don’t want you to feel you have to stay. I don’t expect you to.”

  “You didn’t really think I was finished, did you?”

  Her eyes widened, her gaze sliding down his body. “Well, yeah.”

  He tugged her onto his lap and smiled when her gaze shot to his as she felt his growing arousal against her hip.

  She licked her lips. “Guess I was wrong.”

  Grinning, he tumbled her back onto the bed and rose over her. “I don’t have you out of my system yet.”

  He settled his mouth on hers, hooking a hand into the vee of her terry cloth robe and tugging it open. Cupping her breast, he lifted his head and stared into her eyes, gone dark and dreamy with need.

  “Mmm,” she breathed, her hands stroking his back. “I think I like being in your system. How long do you think this might take?”

  “Probably all night.”

  She laughed low and smoky, slamming heat into him. “Prove it.”

  “I plan to.” He kissed her again. He definitely wasn’t done with her. Not by a long shot.

  Collier woke the next morning alone in Kiley’s bed. The red digital numbers on her clock read 6:30. It was Tuesday. The water running in the master bath told him where she was. He sat up and swung his feet to the floor, looking around for his boxers. They were at the foot of the bed where she’d dropped them along with his pants, dress shirt and T-shi
rt.

  He wondered how she was this morning. There had been that one instant last night, after their first time, when he’d thought she meant to kick him out.

  He hadn’t spent the night with a woman since Gwen. And it suddenly hit him that he hadn’t once thought about leaving Kiley. He pulled on his boxers and slacks then pushed open the bathroom door which was already slightly ajar. Soap-scented steam wafted around him, fogged the mirror. Through the frosted glass of the shower door he could see the outline of her body, the bare curve of her breast. He was thinking about joining her when she shut off the water.

  “Collier?”

  “You better not be expecting anyone else.”

  Opening the door, she peeked out, wrinkling her nose at him. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” She was wet and sleek and slippery. He wanted to kiss her, but since he knew he wouldn’t stop there, he settled for plucking a dry towel from the chrome bar on the wall and handing it to her.

  “Thanks.” She wrung out her hair, the strands crimped even though wet. “There’s an extra toothbrush by the sink if you want. And a disposable razor.”

  “I’ll skip the razor.” He turned, saw the items on the ivory-marbled vanity top.

  Rubbing a hand across his bristly jaw, he walked over and opened the box holding the toothbrush. A tube of toothpaste rested on the opposite side of the sink. As he threw the box into the trash can, he wondered if she typically kept toothbrushes in supply.

  He hadn’t planned to spend the night, and he didn’t think she had planned for him to, so she wouldn’t have known to have a toothbrush for him. Just how many of these did she have? The thought had his shoulders knotting up. And did she use that razor? Or keep it for someone else to use?

  As he brushed his teeth, Kiley moved up beside him. She’d wrapped the towel around her, sarong-style, her breasts swelling over the top. Using another towel, she squeezed more water out of her hair.

  Two days ago anything this domestic would’ve had Collier breaking out in a cold sweat, but the only thing stirring him up right now was the toothbrush question. He rinsed his mouth, wondering if he should take the toothbrush or leave it. Hell.

  “Feel better about the case today?” She spritzed something on her hair and finger-fluffed the wet, heavy mass.

  He eased down on the counter’s edge, his gaze tracing the damp curve of her neck, the slope of her shoulder. “Even though we still don’t have any proof showing Embry’s or Vail’s guilt, I’m glad we went over it all again.”

  “Maybe we’ll get something from Alan this morning.” Her gaze flicked to him, then shifted nervously to a point in the mirror. “You want to shower here?”

  “I’ll do it at home. I want to change clothes, too. And use a razor that won’t take off half my skin.”

  “Okay.”

  She didn’t avoid his gaze, gave nothing away with her tone, but Collier felt…something. A subtle tension. He reached over and took her hand. “You sorry about last night?”

  “No.” She met his gaze instantly, unflinchingly. Then she frowned. “Are you?”

  “Not a chance.” He tugged her between his legs, running a knuckle along the swell of her breasts. “Is something wrong?”

  “Am I acting weird? I don’t mean to.” She gave a short laugh. “It might take me a little while to get the hang of this.”

  “You’re fine.” Her words struck an uneasy chord inside him. By this he knew she meant their fling. Casual sex. But nothing about what they’d done last night felt casual to him. “I just wanted to be sure.”

  “And you’re okay, too?”

  “Yep.” He wondered why she was putting this distance between them. And why the hell he wasn’t.

  Her light fresh scent drifted around him. He curled a thick strand of her wet hair around his finger. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her supply of toothbrushes? The thought that some other guy might spend the night with her—put his hands on her—had Collier’s jaw clenching tight enough to snap.

  She kissed him, then swatted him on the butt. “Get out of here so I can focus on getting ready.”

  “You could focus on getting me ready.”

  She glanced down at his arousal and said wryly, “I think I can check that off my to-do list.”

  He grinned, hooking a finger in the towel between her breasts and pulling her into him as he lowered his head. He gave her a real kiss, not one of those quickie jobs.

  Her arms went around his neck and she pressed into him, her skin soft and damp and warm. She let him in, tasting of the same mint toothpaste he’d used. He wanted her again. He stroked his hands up her thighs, ran them under the towel to her hips.

  After a long minute she pulled back, breathing hard. She pushed lightly at his chest. “Go away. I’ll never get dressed at this rate.”

  He stood. “I’m going. I’ll see you tonight, Blaze.”

  She tilted her head. “Did you forget we’re meeting later at the police station to interview Embry?”

  “I didn’t forget.” He closed his fist on the top of the towel and drew her close. “You’re talking work. I’m talking…after work.”

  Her eyes widened.

  He gave her a quick kiss, then stepped toward the door, yanking the towel away from her as he went.

  “McClain!” She caught the wrap before it hit the floor and held it to her breasts.

  He chuckled and walked out. She threw the wet towel at his head.

  Chapter 10

  As Kiley drove to the police department about an hour later, she could not stop thinking about Collier. How he’d touched her, what they’d shared. She’d been so sure last night about what she was doing, but now…. No other man had ever been so in tune with her, physically or otherwise. Had it been only three nights ago that she’d said she couldn’t get involved with him?

  Tonight, after work. Collier’s words had set off a low drum of anticipation that still teased her as she walked into the squad room. He had made it plain that he intended to do more of what they’d done last night. Her erogenous zones were ready. Her brain wasn’t.

  He had wanted to know about her past involvements, but confiding in him about David Barnsdale was too…personal. She didn’t know another word for it. The less sharing of that nature, the better.

  His question might’ve gone unanswered last night, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed. It had dredged up annoying memories of her first and only serious relationship. She had dated David from their junior year in high school until their junior year in college. He’d had a bad-boy reputation until they’d gotten together, then he’d settled down. Kiley’s naive sixteen-year-old self had believed he had changed his life. Apparently, his bad-boy genes had only been in remission. After almost five years together, Kiley thought she had known the man she loved. And then she’d caught him with another woman.

  She would never have imagined David could do such a thing. The emotional blow had devastated her. She’d prided herself on falling for a man completely unlike her father. What a joke. She’d learned the hard way that even reformed bad boys like David, who seemed trustworthy, couldn’t be trusted, and she hadn’t let herself forget.

  Since then she’d dated nice, steady guys who would never cheat on her, and none of them had. But she’d broken up with the last one after three months of boredom. She might like Mr. Nice Steady Guy, but if boring was his middle name, she couldn’t live with him for the rest of her life. Collier, on the other hand, never bored her, probably for the very reasons she fought getting involved with him other than physically. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told him she was terrible at flings. He, on the other hand, had seemed completely at ease this morning in an unfamiliar bathroom, using a toothbrush other than his own. He definitely had the hot sex, no-strings thing down.

  She’d really thought that giving in to the desire she felt for him would scratch her itch. Either that itch had moved or she had a whole new one because she couldn’t stop thinking about him, about them. Wantin
g…more. Last night she had felt an unexpected, deep connection. More than physical.

  Panic flared, but she reminded herself that what was between them was temporary. The connection they had was sex. Period. Okay, great sex, but still just sex.

  She’d known his kisses were mind-blowing, but the rest of what he’d done? Whoa. Heat raced under her skin as she recalled what had happened after he’d pulled her back down on the bed, the way he’d driven her to climax three times before he had done anything for himself. Or let her do anything for him. She’d been wrong about him being a selfish lover. There wasn’t a selfish bone in his body and she’d swear to it in court.

  She arrived at the PD trying to curb the giddiness riding low in her belly. Their affair couldn’t leak over to the investigation. She had to be careful not to let on that things had changed between them. She hoped Collier would, too.

  Turning her full attention to the case, she walked into the large, dingy room with gray-veined flooring and rows of putty-colored, age-warped metal desks. She spoke to several detectives who were already there, some clustered in a group talking and others at a table against the far wall pouring a cup of the squad’s horrible coffee. Sipping the cup of coffee she’d bought at the store on the corner, she checked the clock hanging on the opposite wall. A little before eight. Collier would probably be here soon and they could get started with Alan Embry, who had spent the night in jail.

  She eased down into the chair behind her battle-scarred desk and opened the Lazano file, flipping to her notes on Embry.

  “Detective Russell? You’ve got a visitor.”

  She glanced up and saw Officer Lowe in the doorway with Angie Bearden. The woman’s pretty face was stoic, her eyes hard. She was without an attorney. If Angie were here about Alan spending time in jail, she would’ve brought a lawyer. So what did she want?

  Kiley rose and walked the few steps to the door. “Hi, Angie.” She smiled at the baby-faced cop. “Thanks, Bobby.”