Cover Me

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Cover Me Page 16

by Margaret Watson


  He opened the box and smiled as he saw the two cupcakes. "Oh, yeah," he murmured. "Red velvet. My favorite."

  He dipped his finger in the frosting and brought it to her mouth. "Try it," he coaxed.

  She opened her mouth and took his finger inside, swirling her tongue around his fingertip. The sweet, cool icing was delicious.

  Brendan tasted even better.

  His throat rippled as he watched her. When she finally released his finger with a tiny pop, he put it in his own mouth and licked it. "Sweetest flavor ever," he whispered.

  His tongue curled around his finger, and she stared at his mouth. She wanted his tongue on her. Drawing lazy circles on her skin. Driving her crazy. "I got all the frosting on your finger," she said, barely able to form the words.

  "Wasn't talking about the frosting." He kept his gaze on her as he dropped the box onto the coffee table. "You want to watch TV, Cilla?"

  "No," she whispered.

  "Play cards?"

  "Nope."

  "Play some other kind of game?"

  Her eyes wanted to flutter closed, but she kept her gaze on his. "You're getting closer."

  "What me to guess?"

  "Yes." She moved toward him, as if they were opposite sides of a magnet, drawn inexorably closer. She ached to feel his skin beneath her hands, the shape of his muscles, the scrape of his five o'clock shadow against her skin.

  Brendan was one surprise after another. Impulsive and reckless. Thoughtful and kind. Fun.

  She needed fun tonight.

  No. She needed Brendan.

  "Cilla." His hands slid into her still-damp hair, lifting it away from her face. He leaned closer, until she could see the thin ring of blue around the black centers of his eyes. "Tell me what you want."

  "You, Brendan. I want you."

  He let out a breath, and she shivered as it feathered across her skin. "I want you, too, Cilla. So much." He smoothed the hair off her face, tucked it behind her ears. "I've been burning for you since the night we met. On fire to taste you again since we made love."

  Made love. He hadn't said they'd had sex. Eyes prickling, she curled her fingers around his ears and drew him closer. "I didn't want to want you. I have rules..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. Opened her eyes again. "You break every one of them."

  "What are your rules, Cilla?" He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks, and that simple touch made her body flame.

  "It doesn't matter. They don't matter. Not with you." She clutched the soft material of his shirt in her fists to pull him closer, fumbled at the first button.

  He grabbed her wrists and held her hands at his mouth, kissing first one, then the other. "Is this a one-time thing, Cilla? A reaction to what happened today? You needing to blow off steam?"

  No. She'd told herself she just wanted fun, but in this intimate moment, she knew she'd lied. She pressed her fingers against his lips, shivering when he nibbled on them. "Would it matter?"

  He rested his forehead against hers and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah, it would matter. I don't want this to be a one time thing. It would kill me to have only one night with you. But honestly?" He lifted his head and the heat in his gaze burned. "Don't think I could say no to you."

  His words burrowed into her chest. Squeezed her heart. If he hadn't been holding her, she would have melted at his feet. "No." She pressed her mouth to his, tasted the faint sweetness of the frosting on his lips. "Not stress. Not an 'I won' celebration. Not just one night. It's you, Brendan. Just you."

  Her heart constricted with a tiny pang. Their time together was limited. The women in the CPD talked, and 'love 'em and leave 'em Donovan' was legendary. He didn't do 'serious'. She told herself she was fine with that.

  He tugged her closer and rubbed his lips against hers. They were soft and warm, and she sucked his lower lip into her mouth. Traced it with her tongue, then nibbled at it.

  He groaned and lifted her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. She felt safe in the cocoon of his embrace. Protected. Everything else fell away. Their case, her sister, their jobs at the pub – none of it mattered.

  His hands sliding beneath her sweater were the only reality. His warm palms on the hot skin of her abdomen was all she felt. Forgetting her reservations, her reluctance to let herself go, she squirmed against him. Panted into his mouth. Pressed closer, needing his touch on her breasts.

  Needing more, she shifted on his lap until she faced him, her thighs gripping his. His eyes were closed, and his hands trembled as they tightened around her. Swallowing hard, she shifted until his hard cock pressed exactly where she needed it. Holding nothing back, kissing him with wild abandon, she felt for his shirt buttons. But her hands shook too much to push them through the holes.

  Suddenly Brendan surged to his feet. She clutched his shoulders, but knew he wouldn't drop her. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she buried her face in his neck, drinking in his scent. Fresh. Like the outdoors. Musky with arousal.

  He held her tightly as he walked into his bedroom, kissing her as they moved. He tore his mouth away from hers as he set her on the bed, then knelt down in front of her. He stroked his fingers over her skin as he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, making her shiver as he tugged them down her legs. Then he slowly lifted her sweater, kissing her abdomen, her chest, her breasts as he pulled it over her head.

  He sucked in a breath as he studied her purple lingerie. "I think I have a new favorite color," he whispered, smoothing his fingers over the satin cups of her bra. She arched into him, but he grinned down at her and slid his hands lower. He dipped his fingers into the waistband of her panties, making her squirm, but didn't go any farther.

  "Never knew you were a tease, Donovan," she said, reaching for him and unbuttoning his shirt. "Two can play that game, you know."

  He leaned over her on the bed, his face so close that his breath feathered over her cheek. "That so, Marini?" He nuzzled her neck, nibbled at her earlobe. "Bring it on."

  His heart thundered against her hand when she pulled him closer. She managed to undo all his shirt buttons, and she shoved the sleeves down his arms. While he was trapped, his arms caught behind him, she unbuttoned his jeans and peeled them over his narrow hips.

  His cock moved against his boxer briefs, and she smiled as she kissed him through the cotton. As he struggled to remove his shirt, she slid one finger into his waistband, touched the hot, swollen head of his cock, swirling her finger around it. Then curled her fingers around him, smiling into his chest as he jumped in her hand. She was affecting him as much as he was affecting her.

  His hips jerked against her, and she withdrew her hand, letting the waistband snap back into place. Then she leaned back on the bed, unhooked her bra and let it fall away. She cupped both of her breasts in her hands, watching Brendan flail at his shirt as he watched her.

  Finally freeing his arms, he flung it away from him, stripped off his jeans and boxers and crawled onto the bed. Pinned her hands to the quilt and sucked her earlobe into his mouth.

  "You're doing my job," he murmured, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath her ear. His hands covered her breasts, sliding over her nipples. When he bent to take one in his mouth, she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  "Supposed to be slow," he panted in her ear as he stripped off her panties. "Remember? That's what I promised last time. But you're making me crazy, Cilla." His hips twitched into hers, sliding his cock along her folds. "You want me to break my promise?"

  "I'm begging you to break your promise," she said, sucking on his neck.

  His mouth curved against her skin. "I love it when you beg. I'm going to make you beg a lot tonight."

  "Bet I can make you beg, too," she whispered.

  He lifted her up, yanked back the comforter and blanket, and laid her on the cool sheets. Then he reached toward his night table, opened the drawer and pulled out a foil packet. Before he could open it, she put her hand on his. "If you want to use it, that's fine. But I'm on t
he pill. Got a clean bill of health at my exam last month."

  "You trust me that much?" he asked, frozen above her.

  She did, she realized. He'd tell her if there was a reason he needed a condom on top of the pill. "Yeah," she whispered, nuzzling his neck. "I trust you."

  He dropped the packet on the floor and wrapped her in his arms. Buried his face in her hair. "I won't hurt you, Cilla. I swear."

  There was a good chance he would hurt her. But it would be her own fault if she let herself get too attached to him. So she drew him closer and lost herself in his kiss. When her body was aching for him, when she couldn't wait another second, she drew him closer. "Now, Brendan. I need you now."

  He kissed her as he slid inside her. Kissed her as they began to move together. Kissed her when she came apart in his arms.

  Kissed her as he followed her over.

  They lay entwined together, arms and legs wrapped around each other, until her breathing slowed and her body began to cool. He eased to the side, then pulled her against him. He buried his face in her hair and smoothed his hand up and down her back, as if trying to memorize every inch of her skin. She snuggled closer, reveling in the strength of his muscles, the smooth skin of his back, the fine hairs on his chest, the powerful legs he'd wrapped around her.

  After a long time, he eased away from her and brushed her hair out of her face. "You ready for some dessert?"

  "Isn't that what we just had?" she murmured, cupping his cheek and brushing her mouth over his.

  "First round of dessert," he answered, his eyes twinkling. "I think it's time for some cupcakes."

  Chapter 17

  Brendan strolled out of his bedroom, glancing over his shoulder to see her eyeing his ass. "Like what you see, Marini?"

  Instead of being flustered, she gave him a slow smile that made his cock twitch. "Oh, yeah, Donovan. Get over here so I can like it more closely."

  He loved that she was so direct about sex. That she'd come over here, intent on seducing him.

  She hadn't had to work very hard. He grinned as he picked up the cupcake box. Sex with Cilla was fun. Playful. Intense.

  Rock his world, earth-shaking amazing. She made every woman he'd ever known disappear. All he wanted was Cilla.

  He grabbed the cupcake box from the end table and hurried back into the bedroom. Cilla was half-sitting, leaning against the head board. She had the sheet tucked beneath her arms, exposing only her shoulders.

  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "News flash, Marini." He curled one finger into the sheet. "I've already seen it all." He tugged, and the sheet puddled across her lap.

  "Maybe I was cold," she said, leaning into his warmth.

  Her long, wavy hair brushed his cheek and surrounded him with her scent. Oranges. Spicy and sweet at the same time. Just like her.

  Pink whisker burn colored her neck, and her mouth was swollen from his kisses. It had been less than a half-hour, and he wanted her again.

  He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. Kissed her. Murmured into her mouth, "I can take care of that for you."

  He felt her smile against his mouth. "Counting on it," she murmured as she deepened the kiss.

  He continued to kiss her as he fumbled inside the cupcake box. His tongue stroked hers as he curled his hand around her breast. Dabbed a blob of frosting on her nipple.

  She flinched, and he eased away from her, running his tongue over the inside of her lip. "Easy, Marini," he said, nibbling on her neck as he made her way lower. "Just preparing dessert." He put another dab of frosting on her other breast, letting his hand linger.

  She giggled when she saw the frosting on her nipple, and he smiled against her skin. He really liked giggling Cilla. He'd make it his mission in life to draw that sound from her mouth as often as possible.

  He moved lower and drew the frosting into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her pebbled tip. She twisted into him, murmuring incoherently. All he could hear was, "Yes," and "right there," and "Brendan." God was mentioned, as well. She wrapped one leg around his thigh, trying to draw him closer.

  "Hey," he said with one final swipe of his tongue. Then he moved to her other breast. "Show a little patience here, Marini. Let me enjoy my dessert."

  Her hips were pumping against him now, as if she couldn't help moving. Her hand patted the bed. Looking for the cupcakes, probably. "My turn for dessert," she said, her voice breathy and trembling.

  "Uh uh. Not done with mine yet." He closed his mouth over her nipple and sucked, tasting the frosting and Cilla. He'd never tasted anything as sweet.

  She squirmed against him, panting. When he finally let her nipple go, he knew she was close by the uneven, scattered rhythm of her hips. Then she surprised him by swinging one leg over him and trapping him beneath her hips. His cock twitched, needing to be much closer.

  He smoothed his hand over her face, then tried to pull her closer. "Can't wait, Marini?"

  "No," she murmured, holding his gaze. Her eyes were dark, the irises barely visible, and a red flush covered her face and chest. He felt her trembling beneath him. "I can't wait. I want you so bad I would have taken care of it myself if you hadn't stopped."

  He stared at her, stunned. His hands tightened on her hips, trying to pull her closer. He needed to be buried in her. But she was resisting.

  "Inside you, Cilla. Right now," he said, swallowing hard. "You can't say things like that and not expect me to go crazy."

  She smeared a line of frosting across his abdomen, right below his navel, then grinned up at him. "I haven't had my dessert yet." She was panting, too. Her hips jerked against his leg But she was loving the tease. The fun. She bent over him, her silky hair tickling his chest and abdomen, and began licking at the frosting.

  After she'd licked off all the frosting, she moved lower. Closer to his cock. Knowing he'd explode if she went any farther, Brendan gripped her hips and pulled her higher, until she was right over his cock. "Enough," he groaned. "I need you. Now. Or I'm going to embarrass myself like I haven't since high school."

  She slid onto his cock, pressing her mouth to his. She shuddered when he began to move, and it took only a few thrusts before she cried out, sobbing his name.

  Which was a good thing, because he couldn't hold off for another second. He came so hard that he shook with it. When he finally took a long, shuddering breath, he tightened his arms around her, holding her so close he felt her heart beating against his.

  "Brendan," she whispered.

  "Yeah?"

  "That was..." There was a long silence.

  "Horrible?" he said into her sweet-smelling hair. "Disappointing? Blah?"

  Her arms were still wrapped around him, and she squeezed more tightly. "Amazing," she murmured. "I was going for amazing."

  He swallowed. Nuzzled aside her hair so he could kiss her neck. "Yeah. It was amazing. I think I felt the earth move."

  Time to lighten this up. It had been the most incredible, mind-blowing sex of his life. He didn't want to go all serious on Cilla. "Or maybe Chicago just had an earthquake."

  She giggled again and burrowed closer, and he reached down and pulled the sheet and blanket over them. He fell asleep with her body wrapped around his and her scent calming him. His last, unbidden thought was, 'mine'.

  * * *

  The chatter in his head woke him at three AM. Cilla was tucked in beside him, her head on his chest and her arm curled around him. He lay beside her, his eyes open, listening to her breathe, feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest. He wanted to snuggle into her, to fall back asleep with her in his arms. But he knew sleep wouldn't return until he quieted the noise.

  He eased her head onto a pillow, missing her weight immediately. Untangled her arm. She murmured in her sleep, but didn't wake up. He brushed aside her heavy, silky hair, kissed her cheek, then slid out of bed.

  Silently throwing on sweats and a hoodie, he hurried into the living room and booted up his computer. Franny raised her head fr
om her bed, watched him for a long moment, then lowered it again. She'd seen him get up in the middle of the night and sit down at his desk the last time he watched her. She knew it didn't mean a walk was coming.

  His fingers flew across the keys, the pictures from the hostage scene unspooling in his head. Everything else faded from his consciousness – the light in the courtyard, the dog close by, the woman in his bedroom.

  All he saw was the tense, nervous officers. The SWAT team surrounding the house. The black van, hiding the hostage negotiator trying to make a happy ending.

  He typed about the delicate dance hostage negotiators performed. Getting the HT to release his hostages. Getting him out of the house safely. Getting him help.

  He wrote about the bond that negotiators forged with the HT, no matter how despicable they were. How their only goal was to get everyone out of the house without any violence. How they put everything they had into resolving the crisis without any casualties.

  As he wrote, he thought about Cilla. About the exhaustion on her face as she'd walked toward him. The stiff, careful way she moved, as if she'd been sitting, tense and still, for far too long. Her clothes, rumpled and soaked with sweat. The scent from the inside of the van that had clung to her – old sweat, cold coffee, the yeasty, sour smell of a stale donut.

  The toll her job had taken on her.

  He changed some of the details. Made other things fuzzy. Put nothing in the story that could identify the neighborhood or anyone who'd been at the scene.

  His hands moved faster as he wrapped up the blog entry. Finished with his usual line, paraphrased from some television series his parents watched when he was a kid. 'Stay safe out there.'

  When he stretched, he bumped into someone. Cilla. He closed his eyes. In his writing fog, he'd forgotten all about her.

  Forgotten everything except the words spilling out through his fingers.

  As he looked over his shoulder at her, ready to apologize for abandoning her in his bed, she wrapped her arms around him. "Brendan." She pressed her mouth to his cheek. "What you just wrote, about the hostage thing today? It was incredible. So well done." Her mouth curved against his cheek. "I was there, and it almost made me cry."

 

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