Last night had nothing to do with giving. It had been all about take. He'd touched her breasts not to give her pleasure, but to see if they were as pliant as they looked. He'd plucked at her nipples, not to illicit her moan, but to test the erect peaks. He'd grasped her hips not to guide her, but to grind into her. He'd never done that with a woman before. He'd always been hesitant, more concerned with how the woman would like to be touched than how he would like to touch her.
And Michelle…
His erection grew. He groaned in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
Michelle had to be one of the most uninhibited women he'd ever known. She hadn't cared that the lights were on. Had no interest in pulling the blankets up to her chin to block her skin from view. She'd been gloriously proud in her desire. A powerful aphrodisiac, that, watching a woman throw her head back in abandon and stroke herself up and down on his manhood.
"Cripes."
Jake flicked the fan on high. If he didn't stop this, he'd march right into that motel room and take her all over again. And knowing she'd likely be as open to the proposition as he was made it that much more difficult not to.
He hadn't known what to expect when he woke up that morning. He'd stared at the water-stained ceiling, then nearly hit the ceiling when he realized where he was and what he had done. But then he'd turned his head and found Michelle snoring lightly, her bare behind pressed against his side. She hadn't been in the bathroom getting dressed, putting distance between them. No. And her demeanor had remained the same after she awakened. No morning regrets. No coy remarks or shy smiles. She'd yawned, thrown him a sexy, sleep-softened smile over her shoulder, then burrowed further against him.
Jake had been completely floored.
He hadn't known women like Michelle existed. Well, that wasn't entirely true. What he hadn't known was that everyday normal women like Michelle could be so … sexually generous.
That was normally a man's approach, wasn't it? Not that he had ever experienced casual sex before. Even his first time had been with a girl from town he'd known since kindergarten and had courted his entire life. Both he and Mary Beth had sat in the barn afterward wondering if that's all there was.
Oh, no, baby, that definitely wasn't all there was. There was … there was…
There was Michelle.
He watched the door to Room Twelve open, and his erection popped to life again. She'd changed into a pair of stretchy black slacks and a close-fitting white top. She gave the rain a noting glance, then stepped toward the car without rushing, without using her bag to shield her from the rain. When she climbed in, the scent of shampoo from her damp hair filled the interior. It was all Jake could do not to draw the smell in with a deep breath.
He backed out of the spot and headed for the turnpike.
"Michelle, I…"
She looked at him. "Yes?"
He shrugged, then flicked his gaze to the road. "I just felt … think I need, you know, to say something to you about last night…"
She scooted so that her left knee was curved on the seat and she was half facing him.
He couldn't help his grin. "It was … incredible."
Her husky laugh sent a burning sensation through his veins. "Yes, I'd say last night rates up there on the incredible level." She glanced away.
Jake gestured with his right hand. Catching himself, he snapped it onto the steering wheel. "I mean … what I'm trying to say is… Oh, hell, I don't know what I mean."
And he didn't. He'd just wanted to acknowledge what had passed between them. And her sexy little smile told him he'd not only accomplished that, but that she felt the same. "So you don't regret it?" she asked.
He stared at her wide-eyed. "Regret it? Hell, no, I don't regret it." He grimaced at the vehemence of his words. God, he must sound like a nineteen-year-old who'd just experienced his first blow job. "This morning, though, I thought for a minute that maybe you had. Regretted it, I mean."
She shook her head, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. "Not me."
"Good."
Her smile widened. "Great."
"Yeah, it was great, wasn't it?"
She laughed, and he realized he was pretty much repeating himself at this point. Was he really jabbering? Him? Big, silent Jake McCoy? He couldn't count the number of times his brothers had tried to force him to talk. Often when they were younger, Connor used to pin him down, trying to get him to spill something or other. But he never had. Now he was not only offering stuff up voluntarily, he was repeating himself. Go figure.
After a few moments of silence, Michelle looked at him again. But the serious expression on her face chased every single light, sexually charged thought from Jake's mind.
"Jake, I…"
For the first time, he noticed the slight smudges under her dark eyes. While a current of electricity still crackled between them, it was obvious her mind was on something else. More specifically, the fact that he would be sending her back to France.
Jake mentally ground out a curse. It wasn't that he'd forgotten about that small little detail. Oh, hell, who was he kidding? He had purposely shoved aside the fact that she was officially an illegal alien, and he was an INS agent. Another first for him in this recent slew of firsts. Now the weight of reality pressed in on him from all sides.
Michelle straightened her legs and stared out the passenger window.
"Were you going to say something?" he prompted.
She shook her head. "No … nothing."
He cleared his throat and turned his gaze toward the windshield. The emotional turnaround hit Jake like a two-by-four to the head. So occupied was he with the uniqueness of last night, of Michelle's generous nature, her innate sexuality, he'd completely lost sight of exactly where they were and why.
Not anymore.
He should have gotten out and stood in the rain. Maybe it would have woken him up long before now.
* * *
Michelle's muscles felt thoroughly worked out, stretched, pulled and sated. She stared out the window at the passing mountainside and absently touched her slightly swollen lips. She tried to keep reminding herself that this was a solemn occasion. She was being taken back to D.C., where she would be placed on a plane for France, her search for Lili abruptly cut off. But all she could do was think about how she had suggested casual sex with Jake the night before, and how there had been nothing casual about it.
She wasn't sure what it was about this man. He was tall, quiet, wholesome. And she'd loved messing him up. It wasn't so much him that concerned her, but her reaction to him.
She'd had attentive lovers before. Men who knew exactly how and where to touch her to bring her pleasure. Men with far more experience than Jake McCoy. But there had been something substantially different about the way he had responded to her. A hunger in him, a fascinating agility and a capacity for deep emotion that had rocked her down to her toes. When he'd cupped her breasts, she'd nearly climaxed right then and there. Not even when she was younger had she been so easily pleased. There was something about the look in his eyes, the heat of his fingers, the sound of his quiet groans, that had turned her inside out in a way she'd been completely unprepared for.
Never, never had anyone stirred her the way he had.
Michelle leaned her forehead against the steamed glass of the window and tightly closed her eyes. She'd once pondered the difference between sex and genuine lovemaking. But she'd stopped that long ago. She'd come to the conclusion that there was sex and great sex, and that great sex must have been what others called lovemaking.
No longer. As foolish as it was, she knew, deep in her bones, that what she and Jake had done last night was made love.
"Merde."
The sound of the windshield wipers reminded her where she was, as did Jake's question. "Pardon me?"
She turned toward the sound of his voice, goose bumps peppering her skin. "What?"
He lightly shrugged, a sexy grin tugging at the sides of his mouth. "I thought you said something
."
"No. No. Nothing."
He fell silent again.
Michelle took the opportunity to study him. Really study him. Wasn't it odd that after knowing the man for only a day she should be so comfortable with him in silence? She was a born talker. At least that's what her father used to say when she would come home from school and tell him moment by moment exactly what had happened to her that day. Why then should she be perfectly content, invigorated even, sitting next to Jake McCoy and feeling no need to say anything?
Oh, God, she was in over her head here.
Which was ridiculous, because tomorrow at this time, she'd be in Paris, half a world away, and Jake and last night would seem even farther away.
And so would Lili.
Guilt, quick and consuming, enveloped her.
Jake made a quick swerve into the right lane, then to the off-ramp. Michelle had to grab the dashboard to stop herself from colliding with him.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, staring at the approaching tollbooth.
"Change in plans, that's all," he said, looking as shocked as she felt. "We're going to take the scenic route back. Through Ohio."
Her heart skipped a beat. Had she heard him right? Had he just said they were going to Ohio? Ohio was where Lili was. And far from being on their way to D.C., it was completely out of the way.
She didn't dare speak for fear that his response would prove she was imagining things.
He glanced at her as he paid the toll, then headed over the bridge and onto the turnpike going west. "That's where you said Lili was, right?"
She nodded slowly, her entire body trembling.
He shrugged, though there was nothing nonchalant about the move. He appeared determined somehow. Serious.
"Jake, I…" she began again for the second time in as many minutes.
"What is it?"
She bit her bottom lip and sighed. "Look, I don't want you to think that you, you know, need to do this because of what happened last night."
He glanced between her and the road several times, then his eyes widened. He looked so endearingly shocked, she nearly laughed. "You mean like as some sort of … favor for a favor?"
She gestured with her hands, trying to pull the right words out. Instead, she settled for a simple yes.
"No," he said.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure." She watched his hands tighten on the steering wheel. The same hands that had given her such pleasure only hours before. She shivered. "Look, Michelle, I don't know what you're used to, but this has nothing to do with … you know, our having had sex."
She couldn't help her smile. "Good."
"Great." He grimaced, then shrugged again. "I just, you know, thought that it wouldn't be that big of a deal to go to Ohio, see if this lead you have pans out, before heading back to D.C., you know?"
She really hated to argue with him. After all, he was doing exactly what she would have wished for, if she had dared to wish. "But won't you get in trouble?"
His grin nearly swallowed his handsome face. "Only if anyone finds out."
* * *
Three hours later, they rolled over the Ohio line. Jake squeezed the steering wheel. He didn't know quite how to explain this. One minute he'd been driving Michelle to D.C. The next he'd been making a U-turn.
She hadn't had to say a word. Hadn't pleaded with him to give her a little while longer. Hadn't played on his conscience about how important a role a mother had in her young daughter's life. No. He'd been the one to silently say the words. Perhaps that's why he'd made the decision himself.
Or maybe it had more to do with the small, ragged elephant he'd found lying on the bed while Michelle showered that morning.
His knuckles whitened. Or perhaps he was way off with both explanations and he was just looking for an excuse to have her in his bed for another night.
"So many roads," Michelle murmured.
He glanced to find her bent over the map, the sunshine slanting through the window igniting the blue highlights in her curly black hair. Funny, but no sooner had he turned the car west, than the storm clouds had parted. It was difficult to tell it had rained at all.
Michelle crowded her fingers into all that hair and swept it to the other side of her head. She looked at him. "We want to take route—"
Her words abruptly broke off, and the shadow of a smile lifted her lips. "What?"
Jake realized he was staring, but was helpless to stop between glances at the road. "Your hair. I like it better down."
"Oh." He noted the slight coloring of her cheeks before she turned toward the map spread across her lap.
Had she just blushed? Jake concentrated his attention on the road. Twenty-four hours ago, he'd have sworn nothing; was capable of making a ballsy woman like Michelle Lambert blush. Yet she just had. And he had been the cause of it, or at least his spontaneous compliment had. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her settle her hair around her face.
"Route forty-three." The rustling of paper sounded as she repositioned the map and following a red line with her index finger. "It should be coming up in a few kilom—miles, I think."
"This PI you hired. How sure was he that Li—your daughter is here?"
Michelle slowly folded the map, the hope momentarily draining from her face. "I don't know. I thought he was sure when we went to Kansas last month, then to North Carolina last week." The map crinkled where she held it too tightly.
Jake was filled with the sudden urge to track down the slimy PI and have at him. Not to mention his desire to get hold of her daughter's father.
Another first. He'd never come to fisticuffs with a man over a woman. Never. Not even with his brothers. When Mitch had decided he wanted Liz way back when, he'd stepped aside and never interfered. When Connor had expressed an interest in one of his dates, he'd found a reason to go home and leave the two alone—though, funnily enough, neither of them had seen her again. He'd never felt the need to dole out his own personal brand of justice. But the desire to have his knuckles cleanly connect with the faces of the men who had done Michelle wrong was nearly overwhelming.
He wanted to tell Michelle not to worry, that he'd help her find her daughter. Then it hit him that he didn't have that kind of power. Not in his job. Not over his own damn sense of right and wrong. And what he was doing was definitely beginning to cross the line over to wrong.
He sighed. This morning, Michelle's case had been passed on to Edgar Mollens. Even now, Edgar was likely studying maps, visiting the motel where she'd been staying, checking the phone records for the room and any messages that might have been left for her. If the PI had called her, Edgar would know about it.
Not only were his actions quickly surging toward the wrong column, but one of his colleagues was probably on his tail as he was doing it.
What was he thinking?
Something touched his thigh, and he nearly jumped. He looked down to find Michelle's small hand resting against his slacks, her gaze curious and concerned as she gazed at him.
He knew what he was thinking. He was thinking that Michelle Lambert was a woman, a mother, looking for her child. And he would be a cad if he didn't help her out at least this much.
He turned to the road. Anyway, Ohio wasn't that much out of their way. What was a few more hours before he took her back to D.C.? Nothing to him. But it could mean the world to Michelle … and to little Lili.
He reached down and covered her cooler hand with his, telling his hormones to take a break and purposefully ending the argument he was having with his conscience.
* * *
Chapter 6
« ^ »
"Is this it?"
Jake squinted through the midday sun at the new, tri-level brick house across the street from where they were parked.
"Yes. Yes, this is it." Michelle stuffed the piece of paper she held and the map into his glove compartment, then reached for the door handle.
"Whoa, whoa, where are you going so
fast?"
She blinked at him. "To get my daughter, of course."
"Just like that?"
Energy seemed to emanate from her. "What would you have me do?"
"Wait for a few minutes. Maybe scope the place out first. See if you can see any signs of Lili before you go barging in there."
Her gaze dropped to his mouth and lingered there. "Say it again."
Her request caught him up short. Jake swallowed hard, wondering what he had said to make her momentarily forget her mission and stare at him so provocatively. "Say what?" he fairly croaked.
"My daughter's name."
Jake wanted to refuse, then realized how stupid that would be. "Lili," he said, trying to sound matter of fact, though the name came out as soft as a sigh.
"I like the way you say it." She reached for the door handle again. "I'll only be a minute."
Just like that? One second she was eyeing his mouth like she wanted to devour it, the next she was getting out of the car, hell-bent on getting her daughter back?
Jake started to shake his head, then realized she was going up there alone.
"Hey," he said, getting out of the car. "Wait for me."
"No, no. You'll only confuse Lili." What went without saying took form in the shadow that passed over her features—if Lili was there. "Please. Wait there."
Jake reluctantly did as she asked. He settled himself behind the steering wheel and closed the door. Only then did a whole new emotion hit him: fear.
He and kids … well, they didn't really get along. He supposed it might have to do with his size, or that as an adult he hadn't spent a great deal of time around children. But on the few occasions when he'd made the effort, the kids had practically gone off running in the other direction. His brother Marc had caught one of the exchanges at the Manchester County Fair one year and dubbed him Jake Von Frankenstein. Jake had not been amused.
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