Nerves sent her muddled thoughts spinning at the sight of the two beds dominating the small room. She looked at Sam. If she hadn’t known better, she’d almost have said he looked as jittery as she felt. Was he having second thoughts about making love with her?
“Why don’t I run down the street and pick us up a few things we’ll need?” he said abruptly.
“Sam, you can take the other bed, if you don’t want to sleep with me.”
His expression was completely surprised. “Jeez, Marly, where did that come from?”
“You look uncomfortable. I just thought maybe I was pushing you into something you don’t want.”
He pulled her forward and slid his hands down her back, to cup her buttocks and pull her more tightly against him. Her body throbbed with life and awareness of the sensual heat of him.
“Does this put that idea to rest?” His arousal pressed against her through the material of her jeans. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I first saw you standing in that yard, facing down two angry kids and a knife. Everything that’s happened since has only reinforced that, Marly.”
He captured her lips, teasing them with the tip of his tongue. She leaned into him, opening her mouth for his entrance, but he teased her some more, entering and withdrawing again quickly.
“Don’t,” she managed to whisper. “I want to taste you.”
His dark eyes were smoky. He drew back to study her face, and his brows furrowed. One hand reached out to trace her jaw. “Your skin is so smooth. I’m leaving marks.”
“It’s okay,” she hurried to assure him.
“No.” He reached up to run a hand over his ragged bristles. “Those aren’t the sort of marks I want to leave on your body, Marly.”
She warmed under the intensity of his look. “What sort of marks do you want to leave?”
His expression was pure sin. “Wait for me. I need to shave, and I need to do something about protection.”
He stepped back before she could protest the loss of contact and opened the door.
“I’ll be back,” he told her.
She quaked in the aftermath of his kisses, staring at the closed door where he had been. Her hand traced the path his mouth had taken, finding her skin raw where his heavy beard had scraped.
He’d be back. And she’d be ready.
Marly stripped off her clothing, finding her muscles protesting every movement. In the bathroom mirror, she saw what she had expected. Bruises from the seat belt faintly marked her shoulder and chest. But the belt had done its job, and she and Sam were both alive, thanks to his skill behind the wheel.
She turned on the shower, found a plastic shower cap and stuffed her wild hair inside. “I should have gone with him to buy a hairbrush and some makeup,” she told her foggy reflection.
The hot water felt unbelievably wonderful against her sore muscles. She indulged in the feel of the water sliding down her skin, pretending it was his hands, half hoping he would return and find her there and join her. Finally, she had no choice but to step from under the spray. A yawn surprised her as she began to towel off. Sam still wasn’t back, but he would be.
She gathered her clothing, rinsing out the undergarments and hanging them to dry. Plain cotton, she thought in disgust. She had given up the fancy silks and pretty lace about the same time she gave up on her marriage. Was she about to make another mistake?
“No second thoughts, Marly.”
It wasn’t love, of course. She knew better. A chemical attraction was the reality between a man and a woman. An attraction that would fade after a while. This would be an affair. No expectations of happily-ever-after this time. Just a man and a woman and a basic need.
As she slid beneath the cool cotton sheets, she wondered what was taking him so long. Could someone have recognized him? Was he even now being arrested? She pushed the fear aside. He’d be back. He’d told her so. She trusted him.
Hours later, she awoke from a sensual dream with a panicked sensation in her chest. She lay silent and inert, assessing the source of her fear.
A heavy weight lay across her legs. A faint spicy scent filled her nostrils. The hot air on the back of her neck came from the man in the bed with her, sound asleep at her side.
Sam had returned.
Careful not to wake him, she slipped out from under his leg and stood. In sleep, with his face freshly shaven and his hair still damp from a shower, he looked younger than she would have thought, and impossibly handsome. Sleep erased the lines of strain, but not the raw potency of the man himself.
Desire swept her. She hurried into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of the satisfied smile on her face. He’d come back and he’d shaved, and he hadn’t chosen the spare bed.
On the counter she spotted several new toilet articles including a hairbrush and a toothbrush. She used both. Her wet undergarments had been moved from the shower stall The cotton was still damp, so she rehung them, pausing to gaze at her image. The bruises were darker now, but the hairbrush left her hair gleaming under the fluorescent light, tumbling in waves about her shoulders. It was the best she could do. She shut off the light, opened the door and stepped quietly back inside the room. With the drapes pulled, it was almost dark. Sam hadn’t moved at all.
Marly smiled fondly, thinking how badly he needed sleep. She wouldn’t wake him—for now. She slid back under the covers with quiet stealth, but she turned on her side to face him. Both his eyes winked open, and she caught her breath.
“I thought I was gonna have to come in there after you,” he drawled softly.
“You’re awake.”
He reached out with one hand to cup her jaw. “Perceptive of you.”
Only then did she realize he was totally nude under that sheet. Nude, and fully aroused.
Chapter Ten
“I hope you haven’t changed your mind,” he said softly.
“Not a chance, cowboy. I thought you’d never get back.”
He reached out to stroke the side of her face. “Always nice to be missed.”
Tenderly Sam drew her mouth to his. The kiss was deep and warm, with a sweet passion he was helpless to resist. “You’re wanton,” he murmured as she sampled his neck and chest.
“Is that a complaint?”
He settled her more snugly in his embrace, so that he could toy with the nipple of her smooth breast. “Not a chance.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, and he sought the sensitive skin of her neck with his lips. She was so responsive, arching to allow him access. Her quiver sent flames of excitement licking through him. He explored her further, rewarded to discover that she was wonderfully sensitive everywhere he touched with his fingers or his lips or his tongue.
She was not a passive partner, either. He loved the feel of her hands sweeping across his skin. She played with his chest hair and seemed to delight in the way his nipples would also harden when licked or sucked gently.
“No more,” he protested, knowing he wouldn’t last long under her delicate ministrations. “My turn.”
“Not yet.”
She was so eager, her face aglow with an enchanting passion. When she moved down his body, they discovered he was ticklish when touched in just the right places. Sam promptly retaliated, making her writhe against him in laughter.
The playfulness exploded into passion when she took his length between her fingers and began to explore. Sam bent to recapture the tip of one tempting breast with his mouth. He could barely contain himself at the feel of her hand clenched around him. He reached down to still her fingers.
“I won’t be able to take things slow if you keep that up.”
She lifted her head, her hair whispering against his skin. “A pun?”
He tried to smile, but was distracted by the delicious torture of her hand.
“Slow is for later,” she whispered.
Sam groaned in pleasure. When he could take no more, he again sought the vulnerable skin of her neck and throat, then descended to lave her breasts with his tongue
. As he drew the nipple into his mouth and sucked strongly, she cried out his name. She pulled him away and inched down to capture his mouth with her own.
He was on fire, sure he would explode with his need of her. His fingers traced the supple length of her body, lightly cupping the crisp curls that protected her most sensitive place. Her body stilled in anticipation. Eyes that were partly closed with passion fastened on his.
Deliberately holding her gaze, he touched her and delved within, plunging rapidly in imitation of the movements to come.
“Sam!” Her hand closed over the muscles of his forearm, and he stopped, smiling down at her.
“Slow is for later,” he told her, using her own words to fan the flames. Then he touched her most susceptible point. Marly lifted upward, a cry of startled pleasure wrung from her lips.
“Come here,” she said, tugging at him.
He knew his grin widened. “Is that an order, boss?”
Her eyes gleamed with answering amusement. Her hand closed around him once more. “You want orders, cowboy? I’ll give you orders.”
He was already straining with need when she began stroking him to a fever pitch. He couldn’t take any more of this subtle torture. He needed her.
Sam paused only long enough to tear open the foil packet he had set on the nightstand. She watched with hungry eyes as he applied the condom, then reached for him again, helping him to straddle her flushed body.
“C’mere, cowboy,” she whispered. “Let’s see how well you ride.”
His chuckle was low and husky. She was incredible. And, at the moment, infuriatingly in control. He had to force himself to let Marly set the pace. He wasn’t sure he would last as her nimble fingers guided him into position. Sam strained with the effort to hold back when what he really wanted was to plunge himself inside her.
He had never wanted a union this badly. Had never felt such a sense of perfect rightness. For just a moment, he paused as their gazes locked. Her face softened in welcome. Slowly, with more care than he’d thought he could manage at this point, he entered her.
His breath caught on a groan at the hot, exquisite pleasure as her body enveloped him. Her eyes hazed with answering passion as he began to move, slowly at first, inciting sensations so exciting he could barely hold back.
“Now, cowboy!” Marly clasped his shoulders firmly, moving more quickly with him, in a rhythm as old as time and as new as life itself.
Sam battled for control. The fantastic sensations became too intense. Too vital. Her breath fanned his cheek even as her nails scored his back. She moved with him, faster, harder, deeper, until he couldn’t hold on. He reached between their bodies and touched her where they joined. Her eyes widened. She cried out, a soft cry of completion, only seconds before his world burst in a kaleidoscope of pleasure.
He lay over her for several minutes, unwilling to lose the remarkable perfection of the moment. After a few minutes, however, Marly shifted restlessly beneath his weight. He rolled to one side, tugging her slick body on top of his. He cradled her head against his shoulder while they basked drowsily in a connection so complete it stole his senses.
“At least you don’t make love with that damn hat on,” she breathed in his ear.
Laughter rumbled through his chest to fill the room.
HOURS LATER as Marly stepped into her skirt, she blinked in amazement. Her cowboy was gone. Sam stood in the bathroom doorway, transformed. He was every inch the cosmopolitan man-about-town. He could have walked into any fashionable party in downtown Washington and caused a commotion while people tried to figure out who he was.
And she had thought he made a terrific cowboy.
“You clean up pretty good,” she murmured.
He chuckled, and the sound caused surprising reactions in a body she had thought was more than satisfied.
“I’m glad I’ve got another name to call you by now,” she continued, “because you sure don’t look like Sam anymore. Except for the boots, of course.”
He looked down at his dark, newly shined boots, poking out beneath the hem of his slacks, and gave her one of his devastating smiles. “So, who do I look like?”
Clean-shaven and dressed in a navy blazer over an open dress shirt with pleated slacks, he looked fantastic. Better than fantastic.
With a shake of her head, Marly looked away as she fastened the small gold belt around her waist and smoothed the gaily colored peasant skirt over her hips. “I don’t think your ego needs any further inflating,” she told him smartly.
“Well, you look lovely,” he said. The sincerity in his tone jerked her head up again. “I’m glad the clothes I bought fit.”
Unsure how to respond, she settled for a noncommittal “Mmm…” Sam’s gaze lingered on her in a caress her skin could almost feel. The simple white blouse, the skirt and even the open-toed sandals fit amazingly well. “One might almost wonder how you know so much about women’s sizes,” she said in an effort to regain control of her wayward hormones.
His eyes twinkled. “I have an older sister about your size. She’s a bossy little thing, too.”
Marly tipped her head. “Runs in the family, does it?”
Sam laughed, opened a dresser drawer and produced a small jewelry box. “Here. This isn’t what I’d like to give you, but I know enough about women to know an outfit isn’t complete without earrings and a necklace.”
“Sam—”
“It’s a thank-you, Marly. For believing in me.”
She took the box, almost afraid to open it. Inside lay two crystal teardrop earrings and a matching pendant. They sparkled even in the bedroom’s dim light.
“They’re perfect,” she told him softly. And they were. She’d been half-afraid of something expensive. These, however, she could accept. These she could wear with pleasure.
He helped her fasten the pendant and watched as she adjusted the earrings. “They sparkle. Just like you. Come on, lady, let’s go eat before I decide to feast on something besides food.”
She lowered her traitorous hands so that he wouldn’t see how they trembled at his husky tone. Judging by his knowing look, she needn’t have bothered. “I need food,” she insisted primly.
Sam chuckled as he produced a pair of heavy-rimmed glasses.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
“I don’t.” He handed them to her. They were plain glass, but as a disguise, they were amazingly effective. She returned them and watched as he put them on. Once again his appearance changed. From cover model to handsome professor with just that minor alteration. No. It was more than just the glasses. He had added a slight slump to his shoulders, as if he were someone used to poring over a desk. And he’d rumpled his hair slightly. Enough to cover the small scar on his forehead. The transformation was incredible.
“You’re a tricky man, Mr. Moore.”
“Walker,” he corrected. “And thank you.”
They ambled hand in hand for several blocks before they found a restaurant where the service would be quick and impersonal, providing them a degree of anonymity. Marly couldn’t have said if the food was good or bad. She focused on Sam. He was intelligent, funny and perceptive. They shared many similar views, but their differences provided quirky fun.
Fun. She hadn’t had fun in years. It was astounding to feel this carefree, when her life was tumbling in shambles around her. This cowboy knew how to work his magic on more than children. She was captivated and she knew it.
It wasn’t until they were outside and several yards away from the restaurant that Sam punctured her pleasantly relaxed state with his words.
“I have to go see Lee. We need information.”
“That’s for sure.”
“I’ll drop you at the hotel.”
Marly didn’t break stride, but it was an effort to keep her voice even and matter-of-fact. “Are we going to waste time having this discussion all over again? We’re in this together, cowboy.”
Sam’s expression was hard to read, but there was
no trace of humor there. “I don’t think they’ll let us share a jail cell.”
“Then we’d better not get caught, huh?”
After a moment, he squeezed her hand and stepped up the pace briskly. “I hope those sandals are comfortable.”
“If not, you can carry me.”
“That’ll make us inconspicuous.”
Lee lived in a high-rise apartment building with a security desk in the lobby. When a neighbor kindly held the door for them with a friendly smile, they bypassed the desk and took the stairs to the second floor.
“What if Lee isn’t home?” Marly asked.
“We’ll go inside and wait.”
He rapped on a door in the somber hall. No one answered. Sam pulled out a small flat case and extracted an odd object.
“Do they teach you this in detective school?” she whispered.
“No.” He started to insert the device in the lock, but then he stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “The door’s already unlocked,” he told her, so quietly she had to strain to make out the words.
He stepped away from the door, pushing her back as well. Then he reached inside his boot and removed his revolver. Marly didn’t make a sound, but a sudden spurt of fear threatened to choke her.
She had seen vestiges of Sam’s cop persona before. This, however, was the first time she had seen him completely in that role. It was scary. Just the businesslike way he held that gun terrified her.
“Wait.” His word was a scant trace of sound. Marly pressed her back against the papered wall, feeling the chair rail pinch her hips. Sam flattened himself against the wall on the other side of the doorway and slowly pressed the door open with the palm of his empty hand.
She didn’t breathe as he entered the apartment, nor did she try to move. When he disappeared, the door swung partially closed behind him. What was she supposed to do if she heard gunshots from inside? Her cloth purse would make a pitiful weapon. The question became moot a few minutes later, when Sam reopened the door and ushered her in.
“It’s clean.”
Man Without A Badge Page 16