Cavanaugh Encounter

by Marie Ferrarella

She could hardly breathe as another, stronger wave of anticipation washed over her. Frankie pressed her body against his, feeling its hot imprint along her flesh.

  * * *

  Luke didn’t think it was possible for him to feel weak-kneed. That sort of reaction resided far back in his past. It had been a part of his early adolescence, when he was just coming into his own. When he had discovered that willing partners were all around him. All he had to do was look.

  Even so, he’d never taken any of it for granted or as his due. Rather, he had always treated each and every one of the women he made love with as if they were special. And, in their own way, each one of them was.

  But this one really was special.

  A special kind of special.

  Who would have guessed? he wondered. From the very first, the fiery detective with the smart mouth had aroused him and attracted him. Moreover, he saw her as a challenge. But the challenge had turned out to be so much more than he had anticipated.

  Each passionate kiss just left him wanting the next one. And the next. His excitement grew to breath-stealing new heights.

  He wanted her. Wanted her now. Wanted the mind-blowing, exhilarating feeling of final release that came when the very last of the mountain had been reached and conquered.

  And yet, he wanted this dizzying, pulse-accelerating feeling to continue, to grow as desire increased, doubling with every fraction of a moment, every intimate caress he both gave and received.

  Luke struggled to pace himself, even as he felt himself rushing to the enticing climactic ending that beckoned to him like an irresistible siren’s song.

  With supreme effort, Luke began to steel himself. This wasn’t just about him, it was about her. Her reaction. His first priority was her pleasure.

  Just like his brothers, he had never been one of those men who wanted to “score,” who only cared about his own gratification, his own pleasure, first and last. No, to him, making love had always been a mutual endeavor, something to be enjoyed together.

  Ever mindful of her, he crafted Frankie’s arousal as if he was fashioning a precious piece of fine jewelry, working at it patiently until he sensed that everything was just right.

  And when it was, when he could see that she was unable to hold herself back a second longer, he drew his body up along hers. His eyes on hers, he parted her legs and began to enter.

  The very next moment, he stopped. His eyes widened as he looked at Frankie.

  Luke hadn’t expected to discover any sort of an obstacle in his path.

  But he had.

  Stunned, he began to raise his head, a half-formed question on his lips.

  * * *

  Oh, no, she knew where this was going. He was going to retreat.

  She couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let him just stop, not when she was so very close to achieving that final exquisite leap to ecstasy. If he drew away now, it was all over.

  Wrapping her legs around Luke’s hard, muscular torso, she held him fast at the same time that she framed his face with her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers.

  She kissed him. Kissed him over and over again until she burned away his question, his resistance and the doubts that had gotten in his way.

  Her body moving against him urgently, she made him forsake his better judgment and thrust all the way into her.

  The rest was inevitable.

  The timeless dance to a rhythm only heard by the two people involved overtook them and surged forward until it was wrapped entirely around them.

  Luke moved faster and faster. Working past the pain, Frankie emulated and echoed each one of his movements, determined to keep up.

  Determined to reach journey’s end at the exact moment he did.

  With that very first thrust, there had been a flash of pain, but it faded quickly enough, replaced by surging passion and an overwhelming desire and need for the final burst of stardust that hovered just out of reach, waiting to bathe them both.

  She sensed its closeness, could feel herself craving that final mind-numbing volley into ecstasy.

  And then it happened. Fireworks both from within and without.

  The shower of stars fell all around her. Her very skin felt as if it was on fire.

  Frankie didn’t want the moment to pass.

  She clung to Luke, clung with every fiber of her being to the ensuing euphoria for as long as she could. Wishing it was longer.

  But, eventually, her heart rate subsided. Her breathing returned to normal and the wave of almost unimaginable joy slipped into the background.

  Luke’s body relaxed against hers.

  As she tried to tighten her arms around him, she could feel him separating himself from her. He rolled off to her side.

  Frankie braced herself for what she knew would come.

  Luke looked at her. Was that an accusation in his eyes? She felt disappointment taking hold of her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

  Willing herself not to break down, Frankie did her best to brazen it out. “Tell you what?”

  Exasperation creased his brow. “Don’t play dumb with me, Frankie. You’re too smart for that.” He raised himself up on his elbow, and still looking at her, he waited for an answer. But she remained silent. “Well?” he demanded.

  “I’m sorry, what was the question?” she asked, clinging to ignorance for all she was worth.

  She was going to make him spell it out, he thought, angrily. He was uncomfortable enough about this as it was.

  “Damn it, Frankie, why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

  She didn’t know where to look and just wished she could disappear into thin air. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. Why was he torturing her this way?

  “You mean it wasn’t in my file?” she asked sarcastically.

  She eyed her scattered clothing, wondering if she could grab them and just hide in her bathroom. He’d have to take a hint and leave then, right?

  Luke’s expression darkened as he watched her. “I’m serious, Frankie.”

  “I realize that,” she answered stiffly. “I also realize that you feel cheated and disappointed, so you can just take your clothes and leave. You’re free to go. I’m not going to make you suffer a second longer in my company.”

  Luke made no move to do either. Instead, he stared at her, stunned almost speechless.

  Almost.

  “Cheated?” he echoed incredulously, then said, “Disappointed?” If possible, his stare only intensified. “Just what the hell are you talking about?”

  Why was he drawing this out? Was that her punishment for not letting him know he was going to be making love to a woman who had absolutely no experience? “I’m talking about how you feel.”

  “How the hell would you know how I feel?” Luke demanded, then added, “Other than guilty.”

  “Guilty?” It was her turn to be confused. “Why would you feel guilty?”

  “Because I took something from you. A woman’s first time is supposed to be something special, something she could look back on with a fond memory.”

  And he had all but devoured her like a starving man on a desert island, with no thought to creating a memorable experience for her.

  “What makes you think this doesn’t qualify?” she snapped, her voice echoing with the same intense anger as his.

  “Because a hard-boiled egg takes longer to cook than what we just did.”

  That was so insane sounding, it caused a smile to surface and play on her lips. And then she gave in and laughed. “Maybe I should have hard-boiled eggs more often.”

  Lost, he blinked as if to clear his vision and stared at her. “What?”

  “Look, you hardheaded idiot, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not compla
ining about what just happened. I don’t know about you, but I had a really fantastic time.” Frankie blew out a breath, desperately trying to find the right way to word this. “I realize you were expecting more, but—”

  “More?” Luke repeated as if the word made no sense to him. How could she even say that? How could she even think that? “Any more and I would have probably exploded. I wouldn’t have been able to handle more. You ever tell anyone this and I’ll deny it,” he warned, “but you’re all the woman I can handle.”

  She stared at him “Then why are you yelling at me?”

  “Because you should have told me that you were a virgin,” he insisted.

  “And just when was I supposed to do that?” she asked. “While you were kissing me so much that I was melting into a puddle, or while you were taking my clothes off and all I could think of was that I’d finally found someone I wanted to make love with and that I really hoped you wouldn’t stop?”

  His mouth all but dropped open. “Say again?”

  “So I can feed that undernourished, starving ego of yours?” she asked, mocking him. She shook her head. “Oh, no, I don’t think so.”

  But he wasn’t about to let the subject go, not yet. “Are you telling me that you’re a virgin because you’ve never met anyone in your life who you wanted to make love with?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, as if searching for inner strength. And then she opened them again. “If I say yes, are you going to run for the hills, or will you stay long enough to put your clothes on, then run?” she asked. “Because I really think you should get dressed first. There’re cops out there who’ll arrest you if you don’t put your clothes on first.”

  Laughing, he caught her completely by surprise when he pulled her into his arms.

  “I’m not running anywhere, naked or otherwise,” he told her. Just to convince her, he brought his mouth down to hers.

  After a very long moment, she wedged her hand between them, pushing him back just a fraction. “Then you’re not leaving?”

  He hovered over her, laughter in his eyes. “What do you think?”

  “I think you need to show me.”

  “I can do that.”

  His smile melted away as he brought his mouth back to hers.

  Frankie felt her blood heating almost instantly as he began to do all the things that he had done before, except more slowly this time.

  The slower he went, the more eager she became, desperate to scale another mountain and reach another climax.

  * * *

  When they finally achieved the mutual gratification he had fashioned for both of them for a second time, Frankie curled up against him, struggling to get her breathing normal again and under control.

  Eventually she did. Which was when she sighed. “You are a revelation, Detective O’Bannon.”

  He laughed. “I could say the same thing about you, Detective DeMarco.” He pulled her even closer to him, their bodies all but one, and then he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But you really should have told me. How did you ever get to be twenty-nine without ever—ever—”

  “Well,” she said with a straight face. “First I turned one, and then two and so on. Before I knew it, I was twenty-nine and, well, you know the rest,” she said, looking up at him.

  “Not hardly, but you’ll have to tell me sometime,” he said.

  “Nothing else to tell,” she answered, a sigh escaping her lips.

  Her warm breath drifted along his skin, reignited his fire.

  To her surprise, he sat up. He was leaving, she thought with a sudden pang. She didn’t want him to go. Still, she tried to tell herself that there was no reason to expect he would stay the night.

  She had no idea what to expect, Frankie realized. For her, this was all brand-new, unexplored territory.

  Because he had gotten up, she did, too. The next moment, she looked around for her clothes.

  Luke watched her, puzzled, as she slid on her dress. “What are you doing?”

  “Putting my clothes on. I thought that the neighbors might get upset if I was naked when I walked you to your car.”

  He still didn’t understand. “Are you throwing me out?” he asked.

  She blinked, the zipper on her dress only half up. Obviously their signals were crossed. “No, I thought you were leaving.”

  “No, I was going to go to your bedroom,” he told her. “I thought, for a change, you might like to make love in your bed.”

  That would make three times tonight. “I thought you were tired.”

  He smiled at her, running his hand along her body. “Tired, maybe,” he allowed. “But not dead.” And then he thought that maybe this was her way of telling him she’d had enough for her first time. “Unless you’d rather go to sleep,” he said.

  Taking his hand, she began to head toward her bedroom in the rear of her apartment.

  “Eventually,” she told him.

  “Sounds promising,” he said. The next moment, he surprised her by sweeping her up into his arms.

  Laughing, she laced her hands around his neck to anchor herself. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to help you conserve your energy,” he told her. “I don’t want the walk to your bedroom to sap away your strength.”

  A wide smile played on her lips. “Very thoughtful.”

  “I told you, remember?” he reminded her whimsically. “I said that I’m a very thoughtful guy.”

  “I guess I forgot,” she told him, pressing her lips against his neck.

  Luke walked faster.

  Chapter 18

  The space beside her was empty.

  Half asleep, Frankie had reached out to run her hand along Luke’s arm. She had wanted to reassure herself that it all hadn’t just been a dream, only to discover that she was alone in her queen-size bed.

  Bolting upright, her eyes open now, Frankie sighed. She was usually a very light sleeper, but Luke had completely exhausted her last night. She supposed that was why she’d remained sound asleep when he had taken his leave.

  Feeling let down, she kicked off the covers and got up.

  Frankie was just taking out one of the oversize T-shirts she usually slept in from the drawer when she paused and took in a deep breath.

  Coffee.

  She smelled coffee.

  But she hadn’t put the timer on last night the way she usually did. She’d been far too busy. What was going on here?

  Pulling on the T-shirt, Frankie took her service weapon with her as she hurried out to the kitchen to investigate.

  It wasn’t an intruder. It was Luke, standing at the stove with his back to her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “You’re not supposed to be up yet,” he told her, not bothering to turn around. “You’re supposed to still be asleep so I can regale you with my culinary abilities when you do wake up.”

  She was still trying to process the fact that he hadn’t left. “You cook?”

  “That’s what culinary abilities mean, Detective,” he said, finally turning around. He saw the gun she was still holding. “Are you planning on shooting me if you don’t like breakfast?”

  Frankie set her gun aside on the counter. “I didn’t know you cooked. You’re a guy.”

  Luke laughed. “You figured that out, did you? What was your first clue?” He brought over two cups of coffee. “Oh, that’s right, you saw me naked last night. I guess that gave it away.” He placed one cup on the table in front of her, then set the other in front of his chair.

  His eyes traveled along the length of her body, a sexy, appreciative smile curving his mouth. “I like your new look. You have underwear under that?”

  Her eyes met his. There was a glint of mischief in hers. “No.”

&nbs
p; His grin was nothing short of wicked. “I like that even more.”

  She glanced past his shoulder toward the stove. There were eggs sizzling in the large frying pan. “You really are making breakfast,” she marveled. She’d thought he’d just been putting her on.

  “Growing up in my house, it was a requirement.” Moving back to the stove, Luke turned off the burner beneath the frying pan, then divided the scrambled eggs into equal portions between two plates. There were two slices of buttered toast and three slices of bacon on each plate already.

  Bringing the plates over to the table, he placed one before each of their chairs. “My mother insisted we all learn how to cook. We took turns making meals whenever Mom worked the night shift.” He took a seat. “Sit. Eat. It’s not poisoned,” he assured her.

  She sat down as gracefully as she could, given what she was wearing, then warily picked up her fork.

  “This is good,” Frankie marveled after taking her first bite. “I had no idea you had these hidden talents.”

  Grinning, Luke winked at her. “Stick around, kid. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  She knew it was just a playful line, thrown out with no real thought behind it, but she found herself hoping that there was more than a grain of truth to the words.

  Careful, Frankie, you don’t want to get carried away. One wrong move and he’ll bolt out of your life like a racehorse on steroids in a fixed race.

  “Look, I was thinking,” Luke said, “after breakfast, why don’t we—” The cell phone he’d left in his jacket, which was still lying on the floor, suddenly began to ring. Half a beat later, hers did, as well. “Answer the phone,” Luke concluded with a sigh. Getting up, he asked, “What are the odds that those are two wrong numbers?”

  “Not good,” Frankie guessed. It took her a minute to locate her own cell phone.

  Their voices almost blended as they each announced their names the moment they answered the calls.

  Luke frowned as he listened intently to the person on the other end. He’d guessed correctly and he was far from happy about it—for a couple of reasons.

  “Be there as soon as I can.” Ending the call, he looked over toward Frankie. “Apparently, our serial killer decided not to take the weekend off. You get the same message?”