by Style, Linda
Somewhere between The Cat in the Hat’s arrival and Thing One and Thing Two, Sam had fallen asleep—and with the fresh scent of baby shampoo and this sweet little girl clinging to her, Crista felt an ache of longing.
This is what it would have been like with her own daughter. She’d wanted to give her child all the love she had to give—the love Crista never had. She’d wanted her little girl to feel safe and secure—that her mother would always be there to protect her. She’d glanced at the dark curls and pink cheeks of the child nestled in her arms and knew Sam didn’t have to worry about any of those things.
Even with her mother gone, Sam felt secure and loved. Alex would never let anyone harm his little girl. And somewhere deep inside, Crista wished that Alex felt that way about her.
Leaning back on her elbows, Crista pulled up her white capri pants and wiggled her toes. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face. Savoring the salty scent of the sea and the slight breeze fanning over her, she didn’t know what could be more perfect. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so at peace with herself. No need to rush to the gym or get back to work immediately. It was enough to be here with Alex and Sam—and to know they were safe.
Yes, she still had a case to solve, but all in due time. Taking time off had been a balm for her mental well-being.
Hearing a swish of movement in the sand near her, Crista opened her eyes. Sam was still playing by the shore, but Alex had come back. He looked quite continental in his rolled up, lightweight cotton pants, and baggy, pale blue French terry sweatshirt. The color complimented his bronzed skin and made his hair and eyes appear even blacker.
“Tired?” he asked.
She squinted up at him. “No, not at all. I was just enjoying how peaceful it is here. It’s revitalizing.”
He dropped down beside her, his sandy feet next to hers. The contrast was like the two of them. Her skin was a lighter mocha color, where Alex’s skin was a dark bronze. Masculine and feminine. She’d even painted her toenails bright red for the occasion.
“I thought maybe Sam had kept you up all night with girl-talk after I left.” He leaned over and flicked some sand off the shoulder of her red T-shirt.
“No, but I would have enjoyed it if she had. She didn’t want to sleep alone, so she climbed in with me. We read a story and Sam fell asleep. She didn’t wake once.”
“Good. I was a little worried, being in a strange place and all. Since the shooting, I worry about how she’s going to react to different things.”
“Has she had some problems?”
“No. But now she asks questions all the time.”
Crista frowned. “What kind of questions?”
He looked down and pressing one hand against the other, cracked his knuckles. “She’s asked if the police have caught the men who hurt her.”
“Oh, wow. She’s obviously more aware than you thought.”
“Seems that way. But she doesn’t appear upset by it. She asks about you all the time, too. I wonder if she feels safer with you around?”
Crista raised an eyebrow. “It’s possible she just likes me.”
Alex nodded. “That’s true. And that makes two of us.” He winked, his smile languid, the kind that made no secret of what he was thinking.
Crista glanced away, not wanting to read more into his words than he meant. They were friends, that was all. “Sam is a beautiful child. You’ve done a wonderful job raising her.”
A wistful smile crossed his face. “I’ve had a lot of help. Marissa was…a good mother. And Elena has been a godsend. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.”
Crista knew what it felt like to lose someone. Her father. Her mother. Her child. The pain might fade, but it never disappeared altogether. It was obvious Alex had loved his wife very much. Still did. “Life isn’t kind sometimes.”
“Yeah, isn’t that the truth.” He glanced to the beach where Samantha was still playing. “But I have Sam. She brings me a joy that’s indescribable.”
“It can’t be easy trying to be both mother and father.”
He nodded. “It’s a humbling experience. I never realized how much I didn’t know until I had to take care of Sam on my own.” He gave a wry laugh. “I’ve discovered I’m a lousy mother.”
“You’re doing a great job.”
The light returned to his eyes as he reached to take Crista’s hand in his.
His hands were warm and gentle and she felt his heat flow through her like warm honey. As Alex’s gaze met hers, she saw no pretense in his eyes—only desire. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. Arousal simmered deep within her. The ache of desire between her legs intensified. She needed him. And because she needed him she felt vulnerable in a way she’d never felt before.
“Daddy, Crista, see what I found,” Sam’s voice broke the spell. She ran toward them, holding out her hand for them to see what she had in it. “It’s a seashell with a decoration on it.”
“It’s a sand dollar,” Crista said, regrouping.
“Can you help me get some more?” Sam pleaded with Crista.
“Of course. I’d love to look for shells.” But getting away from Alex was even more important. She knew exactly where they were headed. And even though she’d could think of nothing she’d like more than making love with Alex, she knew no good could come of it.
CRISTA GLANCED out the car window, sorry to say goodbye to a place that gave her such contentment. Two long warm days at the beach with her two favorite people had her fantasizing about what it might be like to live like this all the time. Just being with Alex and Sam had made her feel a part of something important. She felt important. Needed.
But the nights had been hard. Knowing Alex was off-limits, knowing she couldn’t touch him or let him know how she felt only heightened her desire. Her awareness of him in the next room was pure torture, and when it was time to go home, it wasn’t too soon.
They dropped Sam off with Elena and then Alex drove Crista and Calvin home. Riding quietly, Crista examined Alex in profile as he drove. She liked his looks. Yes, he was handsome, but what she really liked was his strong jaw and the sensuous curve to his lower lip that made her want to lean over and kiss it. She liked the shape of his ears and the way his hair curled down in the front. His eyelashes were dark and so full, most women would give their firstborn to have lashes like that. So lost in him, she didn’t notice when they pulled into her parking lot.
“I’ll carry the cage,” Alex said.
“Oh…” She glanced around and saw they were parked. “Great. Thank you.” She’d only brought one small weekend bag with wheels, and she could handle that with ease.
He parked next to her Jeep and opening the door to get out, he said, “Oh, man. It looks like someone rammed into you.”
“Yes, that happened the other day when I was parked.”
“Did you get a name and insurance information?”
She shook her head. “The person was long gone and he didn’t leave a phone number. Normally I could do a trace with the DMV, but not without a license number. My insurance will cover it though, all except the deductible.”
“I can’t believe how some people can destroy other people’s property without batting an eye. It’s beyond me.”
Crista knew Alex was talking about more than her car, and she couldn’t blame him. It was normal to be reminded of what had happened, and it was healthy to get angry about it. “I see it all the time in my job.”
He opened the back door on the Navigator and reached for Calvin’s cage. “I’m sure you do.”
She knew that if he had his way, women wouldn’t work in a dangerous profession. He’d made that perfectly clear. She let the subject drop, picked up her suitcase and headed for the apartment.
At the door, she did a quick inventory as she always did these days. Nothing seemed out of place. They went in and Alex helped her switch Calvin from the small cage into the larger one that filled one corner of the li
ving room.
“There. Are you glad to be home, Calvin?”
Calvin tipped his head at Crista. “Dios te salve María,” the bird said, then squawked and flapped his wings.
“Oh, boy,” Alex said with a smile. “After a few days with Elena, he probably knows the whole Rosary by now.”
Crista chuckled. “Maybe that’ll cut down on some of the cuss words he learned from his previous owners.”
An awkward silence fell between them. His gaze caught hers and he held it.
“Would you like…something?” She didn’t want him to leave just yet.
“Something?” he said with a teasing grin. Then as if he thought he might’ve embarrassed her, he said, “Sure. A glass of wine. A beer. Whatever.”
Crista put down her purse and hurried to the kitchen where he couldn’t see her. Her heart was racing and she could actually feel her pulse pounding at the base of her throat. They were making small talk to put off what they both wanted. She knew it. He knew it.
She poured two glasses of Chardonnay and brought them back into the living room where he was now lounging on the couch, looking as relaxed as if he’d already had the wine. She was as nervous as a skittish cat and he was as cool as…anything.
“Thanks,” he said taking the glass she handed him, and with his other hand, he pulled her down next to him. He was so sure of himself. So confident.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much I enjoyed the weekend,” he said.
“It was wonderful, wasn’t it. I haven’t felt so relaxed in a very long time.” Hell, she couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed something as much as this weekend.
“It was the company that made it special for me.” Alex raised his glass and clinked it against hers. “Here’s to more of the same.”
Crista felt a silly smile on her face and clinked her glass against his. “To more of the same.”
He eased back against the pillows, his gaze thoughtful. “I never did tell you that when I first met you I was totally blown away.”
“No, but I got the general idea. You expected a detective to be a man.”
“That, too. But what I meant is that I saw you as a woman, a beautiful woman.” He set his glass down, reached for hers and set it on the coffee table, as well.
He slipped his hands over hers and said, “I hadn’t looked at a woman with that kind of desire for two years, and suddenly, I felt liberated.”
Crista had to smile. She’d been aware of the sexual attraction between them from the get-go.
“And it wasn’t long before I realized that it wasn’t just my body you affected.” His smile grew softer, his eyes gentler, and he leaned to kiss her.
The softness of his kiss took her breath away and as he pulled her closer, she leaned into him, exploring his lips and his mouth with the tip of her tongue.
As Alex’s kisses went from soft and sensual to harder, hotter, stronger, Crista felt her world tilt. It wasn’t the wine, it was the heady elixir of desire. Passion. Arousal. She kissed him back harder, hotter, stronger. If this was a mistake, she didn’t care.
“Crista, Crista,” he said, pulling back a little, his voice a ragged whisper. “If you want me to stop, it has to be now.”
Her breathing came in quick bursts. He was giving her an out, but she didn’t want an out. She looked into his eyes and saw not only his passion, but also his gentle heart, his ability to love so easily. Everything she saw in those eyes told her what she wanted to know. He cared about her. This wasn’t just a one-night stand for him. Knowing that, she should send him away—but she couldn’t. It made her want him even more.
“I don’t want you to stop.” And she kissed him again.
He swept his tongue fiercely into her mouth and then his hands were in her hair and on her face, her throat, her breasts. His hands were everywhere, as if he didn’t know where to touch first. It had been two years he’d said, and it had been that long for her, too. She pressed hard against him and he kissed her deeper. She felt his hand on her leg, on her bottom and between her legs.
She felt swollen with arousal and pressed harder against him, moving to ease the ache of desire that was building and building inside her. He was still kissing her when she felt his hand slip down inside her pants to touch her in just the right place. His fingers were warm and large and she wanted them inside her. She wanted him inside her.
As she ripped at the buttons on his white shirt, he suddenly sat up and tore it off, and then he reached for her top and pulled it over her head exposing her white lace bra. She hoped he liked lacy underwear. But he paid scant attention and within the blink of an eye, her bra was on the floor and so were her jogging pants. All they were left with was her barely there lace panties—and his black jockey shorts, his arousal clearly visible.
She reached out to him to come back, but he whispered, “Wait. Let me look at you. You’re so beautiful.”
She waited, feeling beautiful because he’d said so.
After a moment, he reached out to her. “C’mon,” he whispered.
She clasped his hand and in one swift movement, he pulled her up against him, and standing in the middle of her living room, he kissed her breasts. “I’ve been dying to touch you all weekend,” he said between kisses. “You can’t imagine how much.”
A smile formed on her lips as she felt the rasp of his tongue against her nipples. “Yes, I can.” Her voice sounded hoarse and far away. “I couldn’t stand knowing you were right there in the next room.”
He knelt down, his kisses trailing from her breasts to her stomach and even lower where she felt his hot mouth right through her panties. If he didn’t stop she was going to combust. And just when she couldn’t stand it—thought she might climax right then and there—he placed both arms around her bottom and, lifting her with him, he stood and carried her to the bedroom.
Alex laid Crista gently on the bed and settled himself next to her. He was so ready, more than ready, but he didn’t want to hurry and not give her the pleasure she deserved. He prided himself on his lovemaking. He took his time, made his partner feel special and in doing so, gained more than just sexual gratification. Though there were times when that was okay, too. But only with the woman he loved.
He was old-fashioned when it came to love. The thought surprised him. He loved Crista. And his heart felt so full with love, his passion seemed small in comparison. But only in comparison, because right now, his need for her was overwhelming. He leaned in to kiss her, his fingers caressing her neck. She turned and started to put her arms around him, but he held her back.
“Let me give you pleasure first. You don’t have to do anything but enjoy.”
She closed her eyes, giving her consent. He trailed his fingers from her neck to her stomach, his lips following the same path. Her skin was smooth, her stomach was flat and hard and he wondered if all her exercise would make her climax harder. He’d heard exercise was an aphrodisiac of sorts. But who needed that? All he needed was her. She was his aphrodisiac.
Feeling his warm mouth on her breasts and on her stomach was enough to send Crista over the top, but when his fingers touched her again right there and he slipped a finger inside and stroked her, she was sure of it. She moaned and bore down on his hand writhing with desire. And just when she thought she might come, he stopped. Sitting up, he moved down between her legs and then gently pulled them apart.
And then his lips found her, his tongue touching everywhere but the right place and just when she couldn’t stand it, he placed his mouth exactly there. As he pressed hard against her, touching her most sensitive area with the tip of his tongue, her world exploded. And exploded. Again and again, and she thought the orgasm was going to go on forever.
When she came back to earth, he was watching her, a silly grin on his face. Maybe she should’ve felt embarrassed, but she didn’t. Not at all. She realized then that at some point he’d put on a condom and she felt a flicker of surprise that he’d come prepared. But it was a good thing. She wa
nted him, and she wanted him now. Apparently he could read her mind, because just then he settled his body between her legs, and holding himself with one arm on either side of her, he entered her slowly. As he did, he leaned in to kiss her. Her scent was on his lips and while she used to think that would’ve turned her off, she moved with him, kissed him deeper.
He was big and harder than she could have imagined and her loins ached with wanting. She pressed into him taking him deeper and deeper inside, and matching his rhythm with hers, she felt his body go rigid. Another thrust and another and she heard him moan while his body shuddered in release.
After a moment, Alex moved to the side. “Sorry if I squished you,” he said.
She grinned. “I didn’t notice.”
He raised himself on one elbow and pushed back a lock of hair from her face. “That was fantastic.”
Fantastic couldn’t begin to describe the experience. She’d never been so physically involved in her whole life. Granted her list of lovers was short, but she’d had a couple after Trini.
“When you care about someone it’s always fantastic,” he whispered.
A warning went off in Crista’s head. She cared about Alex. Too much.
Crista decided it was the afterglow of sex that made Alex so effusive. He was a passionate, expressive man and didn’t mind letting people know what he thought of them. Yes, she believed he cared about her, but she’d be foolish to think it was anything more. She hoped he didn’t think he had to assure her, or make some kind of commitment just because they’d made love.
She’d received as much enjoyment from the experience as Alex had, and that was that.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEX’S WORLD had come alive. He’d never imagined he’d feel such closeness with anyone again, and with Crista, the feeling had been more intense than ever. He’d never been so physically and emotionally engaged. He loved her. He knew that much.