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Cavanaugh Judgment

Page 13

by Marie Ferrarella


  “Come upstairs with me.” It was both a question and a supplication.

  Her pulse quickened again. The platform beneath her feet suddenly splintered and gave way, sending her free-falling through space. Greer stared at him. “But I thought you just said we can’t do this.”

  “Here,” Blake emphasized, underscoring the one word that counted. The one word she hadn’t heard. “I said we can’t do this here. We’re out in the open on the sofa and my father sometimes comes down to get something to drink or eat. He has occasional insomnia,” he explained.

  There was no way that Blake wanted, at his age, to have his father stumble across him in a compromising situation.

  “Oh.” Greer took a breath. Her insides were actually trembling. What was up with that? She’d been in life-and-death situations and she’d never reacted like this. “Then you didn’t want to stop kissing me.”

  He moved his head slowly from side to side, negating the mere suggestion.

  “I’d sooner stop breathing,” he told her honestly. And then her words hit him. Belatedly, he gave a different interpretation to them. “Unless you don’t want me to kiss you.”

  He’d left it up to her, she thought, giving her the impression that he would go along with whatever her decision was.

  Didn’t it matter to him? Was it all just one and the same to the man? Heads we make love, tails we don’t?

  Greer refused to have this all on her shoulders. She lobbed the ball back into his court. “Do you want to kiss me?”

  The sinfully sexy smile that rose to his lips out of nowhere made Greer want to throw her arms around him and seal her mouth to his—as well as several other parts of his anatomy. Even the mere promise of contact generated heat within her.

  “I think I just answered that question, Greer.” But instead of kissing her again the way she hoped he would, Blake moved his fingers through hers. “Come upstairs with me,” he coaxed.

  “Upstairs?” Did that sound as dumb as she thought it did?

  “To my room,” he added softly.

  She let herself be drawn.

  This, no doubt, was the way the mice felt, responding to the Pied Piper’s irresistible music when he played it to lead them out of the town. Everyone knew what happened to them, she thought. They were led into the river to perish.

  And yet, she couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t use the momentary break to regroup and refortify herself. Couldn’t offer up the slightest excuse as to why this shouldn’t be happening. She could have cited, at the very least, that it was unprofessional of her to sleep with the very man she was supposed to be guarding. Sleep.

  Who was she kidding? She was praying that her time with Blake wouldn’t have anything to do with sleep the entire night.

  As if in a dream, Greer went up the stairs with Blake, her entire body heating in anticipation of things she had no business expecting or even hoping for.

  She couldn’t stop herself.

  Blake opened the door to his bedroom, and then, rather than walk in, he abruptly stopped. He glanced down at the threshold. Once it was crossed, there was no turning back. Without a word, he raised his eyes to hers and waited.

  Taking a breath, knowing that she should be calling a halt to this and yet felt powerless to do so, Greer stepped across the threshold and thus silently sealed her fate.

  Following her, Blake closed the door.

  And then they were alone. Alone and very much together.

  She became aware of her heart pounding in double time as Blake began to kiss her again, his hands roaming along the curves of her body as if he was attempting to memorize every inch, as if he was familiarizing himself with a brand-new world.

  The very thought made her heart pound even harder.

  Desire and passion scrambled through him, vying for possession, for some sort of fulfillment. He’d kept himself in check all this time, not just with Greer, but as far as all women, as well. He wasn’t the kind of man who had needs to attend to on a regular basis, whose needs took control of him.

  Going through the motions had never appealed to Blake, even before he’d ever met Margaret. To him, some sort of a relationship needed to precede becoming intimate with a woman. The act of lovemaking had to involve more than just body parts. The nebulous entity some people referred to as “the soul” had to be included.

  If it wasn’t, then everything else was just meaningless.

  Right now, a sense of urgency filled him, as if he had to outrace his thoughts, because if they were still filled with images of Margaret and caught up to him, the feeling that he was betraying his late wife would hold him back. And he didn’t want to hold back. Not now, not after he’d come so far so quickly. There was something about this woman—this woman out of hundreds of others—that set her apart. Something that spoke to him. That made him feel alive and made him long to remain that way.

  Very gently, Blake slid the bodice of the blue gown down to her waist. For a moment, he just drank in the sight of her. And then he tugged on the clingy dress, bring it down to first her hips, then her legs, finally sending the shimmering cloth to the floor.

  Greer stood there before him in high heels, wearing a matching strapless light blue bra and a scrap of lacy blue nylon that doubled as underwear.

  Her weapon was still holstered and strapped to her inner thigh.

  Damn, he’d never seen anything sexier in his life. Blake brought his mouth down on hers.

  He felt her lips curve in a smile against his. If there was something funny about all this, he was missing it.

  Greer drew her head back just a fraction, her eyes smiling into his. “I think, in the interest of keeping the gun from going off and keeping you intact, I should take my weapon off.”

  Blake laughed shortly and nodded, releasing her. “Good idea,” he agreed.

  She made short work of carefully removing the gun and then placing the gun and holster on Blake’s nightstand.

  Blake lost no time in reclaiming her. The second she straightened up, he began to shower soft, openmouthed kisses on her shoulders, her collarbone, and then her breasts as he eliminated the lacy strapless bra.

  By now, desire hummed through him like a freshly struck tuning fork. Though he wanted to rip it away, Blake was careful to slide the exceedingly thin thong down along her hips so that it joined the pool of shimmering blue material on the floor.

  Blake couldn’t catch his breath. The woman was incredibly beautiful. Just as beautiful as he knew she would be.

  “Your turn,” she murmured, her eyes holding his.

  Blake looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face. Rather than verbally answer, Greer immediately began to remove his jacket, his tie, his cummerbund, the brilliant white shirt he wore, as well as his trousers, socks and shoes.

  She paused in the middle to admire and skim her hands along a rock-solid abdomen. She’d had a feeling that he had a good body, but she had no idea that it would be this bone-melting good. She’d seen professional trainers whose abs, chest and arms didn’t look nearly as sculpted.

  She had to ask. “When do you work out?” He hadn’t gone to a gym on her watch and there was no exercise equipment in the house that she knew of.

  He ended the mystery by saying, “Push-ups.”

  If that was the case, she thought, push-ups were highly underrated.

  She separated him from the rest of his clothes in record time. And as she got rid of his shoes, Greer stepped out of her own, kicking them aside.

  They were both nude, both vulnerable.

  The moment she was finished undressing him, Blake pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat, sending the blood in her veins surging.

  Needs began to slam into her. Pleading for attention, for release.

  They fell onto the bed, their limbs tangling as the passion between them all but exploded.

  Greer moaned, anticipation squeezing her in its grip. With each openmouthed kiss along her torso, she found herself coming closer and closer to a climax.
She scrambled toward it, eager, yet afraid that once it found her, once she experienced it and the euphoria it generated began to fade, regret and remorse would swiftly follow.

  But she had absolutely no choice in the matter. Her body had taken over and just like that, the sensation seized her, sending her flying over the edge. But rather than plummet to earth, the way she fully expected to, the climax flowered into another one and another after that. The rush was incredible even as it was exhausting.

  For just a moment, she thought that she would be in its grip forever and ever.

  She had no complaints.

  Everywhere Blake’s lips and tongue touched, she felt immediate fireworks, fireworks that went off in her very core. She wasn’t sure just how long she could hold her own before she became too exhausted to breathe. Slick with sweat, she pulled him to her. Then, rolling her body into his, she managed to reverse their positions, putting herself on top.

  Straddling him the way she would a motorcycle, she began to move, swaying her body against his. She saw the look in his eyes, the raw desire, and it excited her beyond all boundaries.

  That was how he managed to catch her off guard. Blake surprised her by catching hold of her arms. In one swift, seamless motion, he reversed their positions again and he was the one looking down at her. Every breath he took undulated into her. She never took her eyes off him. This was a side to him she would have never guessed existed.

  Didn’t you? a small voice in her head whispered. She banked it down.

  Blake threaded his fingers through hers, then raised her hands above her head as he positioned himself over her. Seductively, he began to move a little at a time, increasing his tempo. She gasped, arching. Inviting.

  And then he was inside her and they were one entity, one being with only one desire vibrating between them.

  Responding to an inner rhythm, Blake began to move his hips again, at first slowly, then with increasing more urgency. She shadowed his every movement, exciting him as much as he excited her.

  And then it was a race, not to outdo but to come together.

  When the pinnacle they were mutually striving for was reached, Greer bit down on her lip to keep from screaming out her pleasure.

  She was breathless. And so, from the sound of it, was Blake.

  It made the euphoria gripping her last longer.

  She felt Blake hugging her, felt him tightening his arms around her and holding her closer. For one of the few times in her life, Greer felt protected, as if nothing could reach her, nothing could harm her.

  Or her heart.

  It was illusion, all illusion, and she knew it, but she clung to it nonetheless. Savored it. And pretended, just for a moment, that it was real. And that it would last for as long as she was alive.

  Greer became aware that his ardor was cooling just a bit. After a moment, he shifted his weight, moving off her and onto his back.

  She was surprised that he continued holding her. Surprised and pleased, although she said neither. From her experience, men didn’t like to feel crowded and any dialogue after the fact dealing with feelings was a signal for them to flee the scene as quickly as was humanly possible.

  “You give this kind of service to everyone you’re assigned to guard?” he asked, murmuring the question against her ear.

  She was amazed, considering what she’d just experienced, that the feel of his breath along her neck was arousing her again. By all rights, she was more than half dead from exhaustion. And yet…

  He was still waiting for her to respond to what she assumed was a semi-serious question on his part. With a careless shrug, Greer gave him a non-answer. “This is my first bodyguard assignment. I’m playing it by ear and improvising as I go along.”

  “I see.” He strummed his fingertips along her curves, enjoying her. “Very innovative of you.”

  She couldn’t tell by his tone if he was serious or not. “Any complaints?” she asked.

  “Can’t think of a one.” He laughed shortly. “Actually, I can’t think. You seem to have short-circuited my brain.”

  She raised herself into a semi-sitting position, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him. “Maybe your brain’s just resting since it wasn’t needed.”

  “Oh, it was needed,” he assured her. “Haven’t you heard? The brain is the most sexual organ in the human body.”

  Tilting her head, she looked at him again, mischief playing on her lips. “I seem to recall hearing something like that, yes. So, you want to put it to the test?” she asked. Before he could answer, she continued, carrying on both sides of the conversation. “You want to think, Judge? Or do you want to do?” she asked, tilting her head as she waited for him to respond.

  Rather than answer her the traditional way, Blake caught the back of her head, pulled her to him and brought her mouth down to his.

  The kiss stretched down to the very edges of her soul.

  She felt his desire for her resurfacing. Growing hard.

  Greer grinned, doing her best to hide her own excitement. She had the answer to her question.

  “I have my answer,” she murmured against his mouth before she threw herself into round two. And lost herself in him completely.

  Chapter 13

  Sleep was an elusive element in Blake’s life. Waking at least twice each night, he hadn’t managed to come anywhere close to sleeping straight through the night since Margaret had died. He’d just accepted that this was the way things were, just as he’d accepted that he would never have feelings for another woman again.

  He was wrong on both counts.

  After making love with Greer a second time, he’d drifted off to sleep and slept through the entire night without waking up once.

  Slept so soundly that apparently he hadn’t heard Greer leave.

  When, still semi-asleep, he’d reached for her, he’d found the other half of his bed empty. The sheets were cool to the touch on her side, which meant that she hadn’t just left. She’d been gone a while.

  Sitting up, Blake saw that she’d taken her clothes with her. And hung his up neatly, folding his socks and underwear and placing them on top of the bureau while his tuxedo and shirt had been returned to their hangers in his closet.

  It was, he thought, as if last night had never happened.

  Maybe that was the effect she was after, he thought. Maybe she wanted to physically deny what had transpired between them.

  Blake scrubbed his hands over his face. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He knew that a lot of men would have been relieved not to be held accountable. Not to feel that they were going to be tangled up in a bunch of strings and expectations.

  But he wasn’t like most men.

  Still, if he pretended that nothing had happened, then he wouldn’t have to feel as if he’d been unfaithful to the memory of his wife. That was something he’d expected to have weigh heavily on him once the passion and desire had cooled and faded and the lovemaking was in the past. But while he was, for the moment, emotionally on shaky ground, oddly enough, there was no guilt pressing down on him.

  Maybe he was still in shock, he speculated, getting up. After all, he’d been fully prepared to face the rest of his life as a single man. Loving someone else wasn’t even remotely on his agenda. Once was all he thought anyone could logically hope for.

  But apparently, he could be wrong.

  He was wrong, Blake amended, because last night wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t felt something for the woman it was happening with.

  Ever since he could remember, he’d always needed something more than just chemistry in order to want to be intimate with a woman, although, he mused with a faint smile as he headed off into the shower, there was definitely something to be said for chemistry. Last night had felt as if the whole damn lab had been set on fire and exploded.

  As he turned on the water, he concentrated on that and not on the fact that he had let his guard down and allowed the notion of love to creep in.

  Less than
fifteen minutes later, Blake was dressed and making his way down the stairs. The scent of coffee greeted him when he was less than halfway down.

  A man could get used to this, he thought. These past two years he’d forgotten what it was like, coming down to freshly brewed coffee, to the aroma of breakfast being made. Ever since Greer had been assigned to be his bodyguard, coffee and breakfast had suddenly become the norm again.

  Careful, Blake, don’t get used to this. She’s not a permanent part of your life. Once they catch Munro, she’ll be gone.

  He found the thought more than mildly disturbing.

  Taking the last step down, Blake could see that Greer was in the living room, folding up the bedding that she’d used. She’d spent the remainder of the night here, he realized. Why?

  “You came down last night?” he asked her, walking into the living room.

  It hadn’t been her imagination, she thought. She had sensed him.

  Greer looked at him over her shoulder, doing her best not to flush. She’d left his bed sometime around 1:00 a.m. and come down, but bits and pieces of last night kept replaying themselves in her head until dawn. She’d gotten even less sleep last night than she ordinarily did.

  Not knowing how he would react in the light of day after the night they’d shared, she kept her voice neutral. “I’m supposed to be your bodyguard, remember?”

  “Couldn’t have guarded it more closely than you did last night,” he reminded her.

  Was that amusement she heard in his voice? And if so, was that a good thing or a bad one?

  Greer pressed her lips together. In either case, at least they were addressing the elephant in the living room right off the bat.

  She cleared her throat. “About last night…”

  He stood where he was, having no idea what to expect next. This was not a run-of-the-mill situation for him. “Yes?”

  She forced herself to look into his eyes. “If you want to request another bodyguard, you are within your right to do so.”

  He stared at her, trying to extract the hidden meaning behind her words. “I don’t understand. Why would I want another bodyguard?”

 

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