Cold Blooded
Page 24
She wanted to ask what he was training for but it wasn’t her business. She opened her eyes in time to watch his nostrils flare. “I’m a runner, not a gym rat. I’ve got a few curves.” She wasn’t apologizing.
“I like curves. Men like curves.” His brows went high when she pulled a face. “Did you not see every guy in the restaurant eyeing your ass like they were imagining their hands on you?”
“Ew.” She laughed. “No. I didn’t see that, thank goodness. I think that’s all in your head.” Her heart was racing from desire and nerves. “Is that why you brought me home? Because you thought other men wanted me?”
He turned them so her back was pressed up against the wall.
“All I know is I wanted you from the moment I saw you being manhandled by Pete Dexter in his company lobby. Trust me, it was no more convenient then than it is now.”
She punched him playfully in the arm. His eyes challenged her to deny the connection they both felt but ignored. She’d been too raw, too emotionally derelict, to even think about sex. He’d been too professional.
“Cindy would have told me to go for it with you. Especially after Agent Fuller warned me off.”
He grinned. “Fuller told me the same thing.”
“I guess we’re both rule breakers then.” Although she wasn’t. She really wasn’t. She leaned forward and placed an open-mouthed kiss above his heart. Then she trailed kisses over his chest, licking a flat brown nipple as his hands anchored her hips to his.
Their eyes met when she raised her head to meet his gaze. He lifted her t-shirt off and tossed it on the floor. She dragged off her bra and let it fall. His gaze dropped to her naked breasts and went from hot to combustible in a heartbeat.
He cupped one full breast, ran his thumb over the dusky nipple. “I like your curves.”
She thought her knees might give out.
“You’re beautiful.” Moonlight carved out the solid jaw and wide shoulders. He was ridiculously gorgeous.
She gasped when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her along the hallway. He walked into his bedroom and placed her gently on the bed, coming down to lie next to her. He leaned over her and lowered his mouth to her breast, running his free hand over her waist and back up, honing in on her other nipple. She grabbed a handful of the dark sheets and closed her eyes at the sensation.
The suck and draw of his mouth and careful pinch of his fingers had pleasure shooting from her breasts to her core. She moaned. What he was doing to her felt better than anything she’d ever experienced before.
She ran her fingers through his hair, over his skull, over his shoulders as her head tipped back, overwhelmed with pleasure. Then his hands moved south and the sound of her zipper being lowered was followed by the slide of his hand into her panties.
He took her lips again as one finger dipped inside.
Oh, boy.
Her grip on his hair must have hurt but he didn’t complain. She felt his laughter against her mouth before he returned to her breasts and started the torment all over again. Her body shook with sensation. Bulldozed with lust. His finger built an insistent rhythm inside her and her toes curled as the edge of his teeth scraped her skin. Her heart beat harder and harder against her ribs, pounding until she was sure he could feel the vibrations against his mouth. He still didn’t stop. And she climbed higher and higher. Her heels dug into the mattress and she writhed, hips circling, thighs widening, wanting more, wanting all of him. The heat of his arousal pressed against her thigh, but he wouldn’t let her touch him. Her hands roamed his back and his ass, but whenever she tried to touch his rigid cock he shifted away.
She growled in frustration. “I want you, Hunt Kincaid.”
“Soon.” He pressed the palm of his hand against her mound and zeroed in on that knot of flesh that swelled beneath his touch and she sucked in air, unable to exhale, then spasming around his fingers as she crashed over that ledge of pleasure, sobbing his name in the darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hunt didn’t think he’d ever seen a prettier sight than Pip West climaxing in his bed. And they’d barely gotten started. He moved to the bottom of the bed to tug off her jeans.
“Up,” he ordered and she obediently raised her hips. The jeans came off and all that was left was a scrap of crimson silk and lots of soft perfect skin with a tantalizing square of ink above her left hipbone. “You have a tattoo.”
NON DESISTAS
NON EXIERIS
“Never give up. Never surrender,” she translated. Her voice was deep with what he hoped was shocked pleasure.
“Figures.” He gave her a grin, leaned forward and traced his finger gently over the dark letters, which fit her personality absolutely. He moved his attention to the thin strip of silk that ran over the delicate skin of her hip. He remembered them from the day he’d searched her belongings. The woman knew her way around the lingerie department, that was for damned sure. She lifted herself up on her elbows and he just stared.
She was so feminine and pretty, but so very strong and determined. Her hair was mussed and her nipples matched her lips, all pink and glistening from his mouth. She had the kind of lush body his hands and mouth and eyes could feast on for hours and never tire.
And despite all the delectable naked beauty on display, it was her eyes that attracted him most. The sense of fierce pride shining there, not because of her appearance, but because of her courage. It conflicted with the uncertainty that also stirred in their depths. The aloneness.
That vulnerability made him want to drop his own emotional walls, but this was only sex. Satisfying the need to have her, the obsession that was starting to scratch at his brain and his body with equal insistence.
He knelt between her legs, spreading her thighs as he moved up the bed and then changed his mind about where to go next. She was like a feast to a hungry man and he wasn’t sure where to start.
He leaned down and tasted her navel, enjoying the way she sighed and gasped whenever he touched her. He ran his tongue over the black lines of her tattoo and they tasted sweet.
When she fell back into the mattress he took advantage of the moment and moved lower, dipping between her legs and moving the panties to one side. He almost lost it when her scent surrounded him. He pushed her thighs further apart because he wanted to consume her.
Her moans grew desperate again—he’d never heard a sexier sound than Pip West’s unconscious moans. He climbed back up her body, enjoying the shape and taste of every inch along the way.
“Why are you still wearing your pants?” she asked huskily as he settled between her thighs.
“Because I want to last more than five seconds.”
The curve of her smile and laughter in her eyes were clear in the moonlight. “Is that normally a problem for you?” she asked.
God, her voice got to him. All deep and throaty and seduced.
“Not usually,” he told her with total sincerity. “I’m experiencing performance anxiety.”
She laughed and he felt her shake beneath him.
Before tonight he hadn’t dared think about having this woman in his arms. Now, it was all he could think about. He shouldn’t be doing this yet he couldn’t seem to stop. They’d both almost died today and he definitely felt the driving need to celebrate the fact he was alive and kicking. He felt like an animal. Feral and slightly out of control.
Having her in his arms was testing him. He couldn’t get enough of her sweet body and wanted to make this as good for her as possible. She deserved better than the way he’d treated her this week—not that he’d had a choice.
His boss had called her dangerous and warned him not to get involved, but the man’s issue was Hunt letting something slip about the BLACKCLOUD investigation, not with Pip herself.
It was insulting to both of them.
“You have a condom?” she asked, breathily.
“Stay there.” He kissed her and went to grab a new box out of the bathroom cabinet. Pulling out a strip, he
headed back. She’d moved—pity—and now lay propped against the pillows, still naked on his bed.
“You’re gorgeous.” Had he already told her that?
Her smile looked unconvinced.
“You are.”
“Sure.” She laughed at him.
He sat beside her and tossed the condoms on the bedside table. He was going to have to convince her, again, until she believed what he was saying.
He stretched out on the bed beside her. His hand hovered over her breast. “I especially like this bit.” He moved his hand up as he said it and tipped her chin so he could capture her laughter and swallow it whole. She tasted sultry and spicy.
She took control of the kiss and he growled as he let her. For all her tenacity and guts, there was a sensitivity to Pip West that he didn’t want to crush by doing something stupid.
And he was more than capable of doing something stupid when it came to women.
He didn’t do relationships, but the idea of saying those words out loud made his brain rebel. But he couldn’t not say anything. He wasn’t built to lead people on.
“What are you waiting for, Hunt? A written invitation? Fuck me.” She undid the snap of his jeans and carefully eased the zipper down, slipping her hands inside. He felt her moan of appreciation but as much as he loved the feel of her hands on him he took her hand and pressed it into the pillow beside her head. Then he took the other hand and placed it on the opposite side of her head.
She stared up at him mutinously.
Christ.
And then he kissed her mouth, and her neck where he found a sensitive spot beneath her ear. She giggled and he teased her unmercifully before making his way back to her breasts which were exquisitely sensitive to touch and had her writhing in his grip. He let go of one hand and splayed his across her stomach. She was so small. So much smaller than he was. He was a little worried about hurting her.
He swept his hands over her curves and over her hips, down her thighs. She wasn’t skinny but she was toned and muscled and fit. He loved the light tan on her skin. The midnight silk of her hair. Those dark eyes that watched, transfixed, as his hands stroked her body.
He dipped his fingers into those frilly red panties again and found her wet. Her lips parted on a gasp and he couldn’t wait any longer. He eased the lingerie down her legs, shucked his pants and grabbed a condom, settling between her thighs. They were nose to nose as he started to ease inside, gazes wide and intent on the other. Her ankles went over his hips and her nails dug into his back as he pushed inside for the first time.
They both froze, getting used to this new feeling, this primitive invasion. Slowly he felt the resistance of her muscles lessen and her breathing slow.
He leaned his forehead against hers. They were both sweaty and her hair clung to her cheek. “You okay?”
He could see her uncertainty and insecurity in the lines around her eyes and the downward pull of her mouth.
“It’s been a while,” she admitted.
He wondered how long, but didn’t want to talk about former lovers. This was their time together. He rocked gently and she gasped.
“You feel amazing.” He gritted his teeth against the need to rut.
Her nails dug a little harder. “You feel pretty amazing yourself.”
He moved again, trying to keep the movement gentle and smooth, and oh, so good. He kissed her and she relaxed more and more. He took all his weight on one elbow and shifted her hips to get deeper and she tilted her pelvis and suddenly he was fully embedded and a fine sheen of perspiration broke out across his shoulders.
He slowly ground against her, wishing he could make this last forever, hoping it was making her feel even half as good as he felt. Her heels dug hard into his ass and her eyes closed and he could see her expression twist into a parody of pain as she lost herself in another orgasm. But the feel of her squeezing him blew a fuse inside and suddenly he wasn’t thinking about anything anymore. He was driving toward release even as Pip continued to clench and come around him, making him feel better than he’d ever felt in his whole goddamn life. Blood pounding, heart-hammering, his climax finally hit him, slamming into his body with the impact of a meteorite. When he could breathe again he held her close, feeling her respond in kind as she wrapped herself around every part of his body and he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tight.
Their hearts beat in unison and her hoarse breath brushed his ear.
Hunt didn’t know exactly what had just happened, but he’d never experienced sex that passionate before.
This was a disaster.
He raised himself up on his elbows to stare down at her, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. She turned her face to the side. She was pulling away. He could feel it in the tension of her muscles as she unwrapped her legs from his hips and tried to shift. She was doing to him what he usually did to others, not because he was a rat bastard, but because he didn’t want to risk falling for anyone. He couldn’t be around to protect them 24-7 and knew the world was a dangerous place. Maybe when he was in the Hostage Rescue Team he’d settle down. Perhaps then he could let go of some of the fear of losing the people he loved.
Not that he loved Pip.
He squashed the little voice that whispered, “yet.”
He trapped her face between his hands and kissed her again, slowly, languorously.
It took a few seconds before she started to respond and relax into him again and he started revisiting all the places he’d visited before, acquainting and reacquainting himself with her body. He got rid of the condom, not leaving the bed because he knew the minute he left her she’d start thinking about all the reasons she shouldn’t be here with him—the fact that their careers were incompatible, that there was no hope of a lasting relationship, that she might get hurt.
All true, but tonight he wanted more. It was selfish and greedy but he hadn’t even begun to slake his hunger for her.
She touched him, running her hands over his sensitized skin, fingertips tracing the lines of his muscles, fingers curling around him, finding him hard again. She stroked him until he was aching with need and unable to bear another moment of not being inside her.
He grabbed a new condom and rolled it on, positioning himself against her entrance. She ran her hands down his back and urged him on but he paused, framing her face with his hands even as her hips tilted and took just the tip of him inside. It was torture and paradise combined, but he had something to say first. While he might not want something long term it didn’t mean that this wasn’t important to him. He opened his mouth to speak but she placed her finger over his lips.
“I don’t want words, Kincaid. I don’t want promises or confessions that might mean nothing tomorrow. Just fuck me as hard and as long as you can and make me forget everything except this, except you. Just you. Nothing else matters tonight.”
* * *
The ring of a cell phone woke Pip slowly from a deep sleep. Her cheek was pressed against smooth, male skin. She frowned, then realized she was draped across Hunt’s naked body and she rose and fell with his breathing. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight as he slept.
She didn’t recognize the ring tone, and she knew most FBI agents carried two, a personal one and a work one. Knowing the call might be important given the nature of his work she pushed upright, breaking his hold.
“Hunt,” she murmured. She enjoyed the shape of his name in her mouth. “Your cell phone is going off.”
He groaned in denial then sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What time is it?”
He was rumpled and deliciously naked. He’d taken her at her word and fucked her hard, but also slow and painstakingly tenderly.
She was left with an ache deep inside.
“Four AM,” she told him softly.
She hadn’t meant to fall asleep but he’d held onto her after that last time and his warmth and the sound of his heart beating against her ear had lulled her into oblivion.
She’d never had sex like that before. It wasn’t just physical. She’d never felt worshipped like a goddess on a pedestal—he had told her he was an overachiever.
But she wasn’t a goddess. She was just a normal single woman, struggling to find her way in the world.
They’d had one perfect night and she didn’t think it could ever get better than that. She wasn’t sure she’d want to try. She certainly wasn’t going to read more into it than it being great sex. Great sex was exactly what she’d needed to get her mind off her other problems, like the fact her best friend was dead, and someone had tried to kill her yesterday.
Hunt padded out the door in search of his cell, the rear view just as mouth-watering as the front. She made quick use of the facilities, conscious of the scent of him surrounding her. The shower beckoned but she needed to leave.
Self-conscious about her nakedness, she found a towel to wrap around herself. She opened the door and saw he’d already pulled on slacks and socks and was shoving an arm into the sleeve of a clean, white shirt.
“I have to go in,” he said, doing up buttons and fastening a black, leather belt around his waist.
Disappointment arrowed through her.
Stupid.
But she nodded and scanned the room and saw her panties on the floor. She scooped them up. “I’ll head back to the hotel.”
Hunt frowned. “You don’t have to leave. Stay the night.”
The fact he offered made something inside her glow like oxygen kissing an ember. But she couldn’t allow herself to get attached.
She knew Hunt’s type. Handsome and ambitious. Not looking for anything beyond the short-term. He wouldn’t be around for long and she didn’t want the heartbreak of falling in love with this man. Not right now.