by Jeanne Adams
“Mmmm? Hey,” she replied, eyes still closed, just enjoying being able to run her hands over his chest, feel the springy hair tickle her fingers, trace the muscles that excited her so much.
“We have to get moving. It’s nearly eight.”
His words hit her brain like a bucket of cold water and she sat up. “What? What? How can that be?” She pushed her hair out of her eyes, staring at the clock. Sure enough, it read seven forty-two. “Oh, my God, I have to get to work.”
“Whoa, whoa!” He stopped her frantic attempt to unwrap the mummifying blankets and leap up. “Both of our bosses practically ordered us to sleep in. We’ve followed orders very nicely, I think.”
“Yes, but—”
“No. No buts. We both needed the sleep, and now,” he grinned wolfishly, “we need a wake-up call.”
She shoved at her hair again, sure that it was a rat’s nest and that she must look like something the proverbial cat dragged in. “I look like hell,” she said, trying to get loose. She wanted to be sexy for him, as beautiful as she could be, since he seemed to think she was attractive.
I should brush my teeth, at least.
“No,” he growled, hovering over her, the blankets making a cape on his back. “You’re gorgeous, sexy, and rumpled, with your sleepy eyes and your hyper-responsibility. I’m going to make us both late,” he said, swooping in to kiss her. “Very late.”
“Gates!” she protested, but it was half-hearted, because his mouth was working magic on her neck, the curve of her ear, and her mouth. Oh my God, it’s even better in the morning.
She met him kiss for kiss, caress for heated caress. “Here, touch me here,” she moaned.
“Yes, like that,” he directed as she shifted her hips to meet him, making them both groan with ecstasy as the maneuver brought a fresh wave of sensation to taunt them, bring them higher.
“Ohhh, yes,” she said, pulling him into her, deeper and faster. “More. I want more of you.”
“Look at me, Ana.”
She did, and what she saw in his face, in his eyes, made her heart race even faster. The wild passion was there, but so was something else. A tenderness, a desire that transcended the physical.
It made her want to weep. It made her want to dance. Instead, she arched up to claim his mouth, to fuse them together.
They broke the kiss only to gasp out their completion as they soared together over the edge into orgasm.
In the aftermath, he flipped them, holding her steady where she lay limp and spent on his sweaty chest. Her hair draped in damp ropes over his arm, and her head rose and fell with the powerful depth of his breathing.
He smoothed a possessive hand down her back, resting it for a moment in the spot he seemed to like at the small of her back. His fingers drew patterns there, lulling her mind, derailing all thought.
“Good morning, Anastasia,” he finally murmured as his restless fingers continued their lines and curves.
“Good morning, Gates,” she said, the words muffled by his chest and the fall of her heavy hair. With effort, she swished it to the side, freeing the dark strands from her mouth and using her fingers to untangle it from the chain she wore around her neck. The simple cross had twisted to the back and lay warm and heavy on her spine.
“This is a superior way to wake up,” he said. She could feel the chuckle that accompanied the words, heard it echo in his chest.
“I think I have the superior position, but yes, it has a lot to recommend it.”
He sighed, and she decided it sounded regretful. “Much as I don’t want to move, I guess we should.”
She propped herself up, sweeping more hair out of the way to look at him. “You stopped me from rushing out of here, so I guess we’ll just take our time. You want the first shower?”
His grin was wicked. “How about we share? I’ll wash your back.”
The mental image of that was divine. “Okay. Race you,” she said, flinging the covers away and dashing for the bathroom.
“Unfair, wench!” he called, caught in the welter of blankets she’d tossed aside.
They played in the shower like slippery children, making love again as the warm rain of water flowed over them both.
She found them towels, offered him a toothbrush, shared her hairbrush. It was a surreal bubble of delight. No one had been there in the morning with her, like this. She’d never lived with a man, never shared a sink or a razor. She’d always been the one to slip away in the morning. Even when she’d dated her long-term boyfriend in college, she’d never let him stay at her apartment, she realized as she dried her heavy hair. Always cautious, she’d kept people slightly at arm’s length since her parent’s death.
“You have beautiful hair, Ana,” Gates said, standing behind her wearing only his trousers. They were only slightly wrinkled from their night draped over the foot of the bed. Hers were crumpled on the floor in the hallway, she realized, blushing. “Ah, now, that’s nothing to blush over, it is beautiful.”
“Thank you. I was—” She hesitated, then realized it was ridiculous to be embarrassed at this point. “I was thinking that my suit was going to have to go to the cleaners. I didn’t give two hoots about it last night, so I’m not sure where my jacket ended up.”
“It’s on the coffee table with your shirt.”
“Ah, okay.” She couldn’t help the continued color in her cheeks. “Your shirt?”
“I won’t be buttoning the top two buttons this morning.” He grinned at their joined reflection in the mirror as he slid his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. Seeing them together that way, reflected in her small bathroom, she felt a change, a shift in her heart that nothing could stop. What had he done to her? “What?” he questioned. “Ana, what is it?”
Not ready to define her feelings, she smiled. “Nothing, I just like the look of you, of us together.”
He grinned at her and bent down to nibble on her ear, still watching her in the mirror. “I like the way your eyes go dark and heavy when I do this,” he whispered, easing a hand under the crisscross of her robe. “Or this.” He tugged her nipple gently until it peaked into a nub under his searching fingers.
“Hmmmm.” She couldn’t help the sigh of enjoyment as she leaned into the caress. “That feels…divine.”
She dropped the hair dryer on the counter with a clatter, bracing her hands on the granite as he bent to run a hand up her thigh, under the robe to caress her hip, sliding both hands under the cloth as he pressed into the curve of her backside. She could feel the power of him, the throb of his erection on her flesh, separated only by the cloth but obviously ready to spring forth.
“Gates,” she stuttered as he found her wet heat, stroked the inner folds of her body, heating her up and making the slick wetness of desire leap forth to lubricate the way for him.
“I can’t get enough of you, Ana,” he rasped, lifting her hair to one side as he kissed the sensitive flesh on the back of her neck. “I want you again, like this, where I can see us both, see us in the mirror as I slide into you.”
He let go of her long enough to undo his trousers, let them drop, before he pulled her back to him.
“Aaaaahhhhhhh.” She couldn’t stop the delicious near-whimper of pleasure as he slid into her.
They’d just found a rhythm when their phones rang.
Chapter Twelve
“No,” he said firmly, feeling her falter in the pace they were building. “This is for us. Anyone else can wait.”
“Gaaattteeesssss!” She drew out his name, half in protest at his decision, half from powerful enjoyment of what he was doing to and with her body. Seeing them move together, feeling it and watching it as he touched her, caressed her breasts, rocked into her from behind was as arousing and erotic as the way he made her feel.
Her orgasm built to a crescendo, and she urged him to come with her, both with the rotation of her hips and her voice. “You see me, Gates, feel me coming for you? Do you feel it? You make me feel so good,” she ra
sped, never stopping her pace, never looking away. “You fill me up and make me soooo hot, so ahhhhhhh!” She couldn’t keep it up. She couldn’t keep thinking. Nothing existed but her completion, his gorgeous face behind her, his hands on her hips, gripping her, holding her to him as he shouted his release.
“Ana! Ah!” He twitched and pressed deeper, pulsing within her as they both dived into delight yet again. No one, ever, had made her feel this way, brought her to such easy passion, delivered so much pleasure, so many times.
He banded an arm around her waist, holding her still. “You’re bewitching,” he stated, keeping them connected for another minute as he kissed her behind the ear. “I think I’m going to need another shower.”
“Mmmm, yes,” she agreed. “But we have to check our phones.”
He sighed, loosing her with obvious reluctance. “Yes, I know. Duty calls, but Ana?”
She turned in his embrace, facing him. “Yes?”
“Nothing changes how special this is, was. Nothing.”
Joy welled up within her, knowing he felt the same way she did. “Yes.”
“A woman of few words,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “Thank you for the best night’s sleep I’ve had in…years.”
He rested his big hands on her shoulders, kissed her. “We’ll check the phones, and I’ll wash off. We’ll go from there, okay?”
“Okay.”
He stripped, then walked into the living room to retrieve his BlackBerry. “Hmmmm,” he muttered, scrolling through e-mail and scanning the entries. Back in her robe, she did the same, trying not to stare at the sheer masculine beauty of his body. There were scars on his back, one that tracked down the back side of one bicep, but they didn’t change the overall vision of incredible manhood. To say he was a prime specimen seemed too pale a term.
“What?” he said, catching her looking.
“You’re gorgeous,” she said honestly.
It was his turn to blush. “I’m not. Men aren’t gorgeous.”
“Hey, I’m the one looking,” she teased. Delighted that she could shake his constant, even façade.
“We’re never going to get to work if you keep looking at me that way.”
“I know,” she mumbled, ducking her head to look at her own messages. Now she wanted him again, not even for sex, but just to hold her, anchor her in the moment. The list of e-mail and calls blurred before her eyes.
“Hey,” he said softly, coming to her and doing exactly what she’d just been hoping for. He wound his arms around her, tucked her head under his chin, and held on. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she returned the favor, drying her eyes on his shirt, which still hung open, pressing her face into the cloth and inhaling the scent of him as if she’d never smell it again. “Don’t worry. We’ve got a lot to do, but I’ll be back. Tonight if you’ll let me.” He pulled back, tried to see her face, but she ducked her head to erase the last of the tears.
She’d cried more in his arms, in two days, than she had in fifteen years.
“It’s not that,” she managed. “It’s everything.” He stiffened a little bit, and she squeezed his ribs. “Stop that. I want you to come back. I do,” she insisted, looking up now to let him see the truth of her words. “I’m just a little overwhelmed.”
She was holding him closely enough that she felt him relax, felt his relief. “That’s understandable. I’ve sent for the car; it should be here in about forty minutes. Where do you want me to drop you?” He said it as if there were no question that he would be doing it, no argument.
Well, she wasn’t in a mood to argue anyway, she decided, letting it go. By the time the car arrived, she’d managed to make them coffee, and a bagel. Other than an intimate smile, and a thank you, he’d been immersed in his work, as had she. She quickly answered a text from Jen that said she was meeting Jack D’Onofrio in Vegas again. Frowning, she wondered if Jen was getting in too deep with this guy before she really knew him. Realizing the irony of the thought, since she’d just slept with Gates, she answered with a positive spin.
Other than the click of texts and an occasional comment about work, they rode in relative silence to her office, each engrossed in the details of their business. The caresses and absent touches were a conversation of a whole different kind.
“Do you have anything on The Bootstrap Foundation?” she asked, flipping through her daybook, noting the list of names she still had to check and how many times she’d been turned down for an interview, or just how often its founder and major backer, Drake Yountz, had been unavailable. The man was a shipping magnate, but Bootstrap seemed to be his big charity cause.
He looked over, a quizzical smile hovering around his mouth. “There’s a joint fundraiser for them tonight, shared with San Francisco TeenCare, the organization that works to get teens off the street, get them involved in the community,” he told her. “Silent auction at the Opera House down on Van Ness.”
“Busy, busy, busy, aren’t they?” she said, wondering how she could get an invitation to the event without having to cough up from the departmental budget.
“Would you like to go? Dav will be going, since he’s a very involved sponsor for San Fran TeenCare and a number of people with whom he deals are large donors to both organizations. He’s not very fond of Drake Yountz, but he does admire the concept he’s developed in Bootstrap.”
“Dav’s a sponsor? That’s wonderful.” She wondered how a man like Dav had time to see to those details. “It’s a great organization.”
“Very close to Dav’s heart, since he claims to have been a hoodlum with no place to hang out. He thinks his early life would have been more pleasant if he’d had a TeenCare type of club to go to.” Gates’s look was grim. “The darker side of Athens is a tough place to be running loose when you’re a teenager.”
“I’d guess. I need to get to Drake Yountz. He won’t return my calls. As to the gala, I’d have to clear going to the event with Pretzky,” she began, but he cut her off.
“Why? I’d like you to come as my date.” He smiled. “Nothing to check. I hadn’t planned to go to this one. Dav had already arranged to escort Sophia Kontos to the event, so I would have been at loose ends anyway. If I go, I wouldn’t be working, per se. Either way, we anticipate no trouble.”
“You don’t?” Ana thought it would be a prime location to go for a hit, then stuttered over the thought of the glamorous Sophia Kontos as Dav’s date. She was one of the hottest actresses in Hollywood, blasting onto the American scene after starring in a blockbuster thriller with the legendary Carl Appleton.
“The governor will be there too.” Gates grinned, dropping his voice to a guttural imitation of the former actor turned politician. “He’ll be back.”
“Ha, well, I see what you mean. There’ll be security out the wazoo for that.” She nodded, running probabilities in her mind. The probability that Pretzky would balk, the probability that she had anything to wear that was suitable. The probability that she could get something before the event tonight.
He took her hand, gave it a squeeze. “Say you’ll come.”
How could she refuse when he asked her like that, all intent and focused on her alone? “Okay,” she whispered, hardly aware that she’d answered him as she lost herself in looking at him. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
“Good. And now…” he said as the car slowed and turned into the driveway of her building, stopping at the guard gate to check in. They were waved through and cruised to the door before he finished. “I’ll let you off, but not without this.” He pulled her into his arms for a searing kiss that rocked her to her toes.
They broke apart, breathing like they’d run a race.
“I’m supposed to work after that?” she groused, knowing it would be hard to focus on anything after his sensual assault.
“Hmmm, have a nice day dear,” he said with bland humor. “I’ll think about you,” he admitted, his eyes still dark with desire.
“I’ll call you a
bout tonight.”
He nodded and tapped the glass. The driver strode round to her side and opened the door.
“Tonight, then,” he said, running a finger down her cheek as a last farewell.
With that delicious parting, she got out of the car.
Chaos once again prevailed as she walked through the door, but at least this time it was controlled madness of an office working on problem solving. Everyone was still sifting files, pulling notes, and trading information to see if they could pinpoint the target of the computer hack. She got some absent hellos and a couple of questions on how her car was, but other than that, they kept working.
“Get shot at,” she marveled again, “and you’re just one of the guys.”
“Burton, my office,” Pretzky called, before Ana could even set her things down. She double-timed it, and walked in just as Pearson, Davis-the-pus-ball, and Caldwell showed up. “Davis, I need you to check with Montrose over in Clandestine Services about the bounce from Turkey. Get me the latest intel on what’s brewing there. Caldwell, you call Sci-Tech and see if anything new is on the market that might simulate the bounces. Pearson, follow up with the two IT guys, give them the latest intel from our crew,” she snapped, passing over a file. “See if that makes sense. Burton, we may have a lead on the hack, tied to something Caldwell was working on. However, I still want you lying low. You got your car handled?”
“I think so. I have to go over there in an hour, check everything with the adjuster. Then they’ll issue me a loaner.”
“Good. IAD goons want you again for some additional info.” She rolled her eyes and grimaced. “Four o’clock. In the meantime, get me your lists and keep working on the case.” She eyed all of them for a moment. “Well? What are all of you waiting for? Get busy.”
The other agents filed out, but Ana waited behind.
Pretzky looked up. “Something you need, Burton?”
“Yes. Those additional searches, the data mining project.” She began laying out the path of the project, but Pretzky stopped her. “You mentioned this yesterday. Cut to the chase, Burton. In regular English.”