by Kylie Brant
With effort, she drew in a breath. Tried to shift away. And found him matching her movement for movement without releasing her mouth.
Against her lips he murmured, “Technically if we don’t come up for air it’s still only one kiss.”
He was nothing if not creative. His hand slid beneath her tank, and she jerked a little at the contact. His fingers spread against her skin, each digit an individual brand. And the sneaky little thought occurred that she could touch him that way, too. Her palms itched with the need to reciprocate.
She slipped her hand under his T-shirt and smiled against his lips when she felt his stomach muscles jump and clench beneath her touch. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of spare flesh on him. Just hair-roughened skin layered over muscle. Peaks and hollows where bone met sinew. And she knew in a flash it had been a mistake to touch him this way. Each step brought a greater intimacy. And fueled the need for more.
His palm crept upward to cup her breast, and she could feel her nipple tighten as he brushed it, behind the lace of her bra. Senses seemed unbearably heightened. There was a growing anticipation as if every nerve ending she had was poised, waiting for a deeper contact. At the same time Zach drew her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down, not quite gently. The dual assault sent little sparks of desire firing through her veins.
As their mouths twisted together, thought receded. There was only the taste of him, dark and faintly primitive. His hands, slightly roughened, that knew just how to touch. Just how to tease and tantalize until she strained against him, begging for closer contact.
And then his fingers slipped inside her bra to cover her breast, and excitement thrummed through her system.
Her movements lacked finesse as she bunched his shirt upward. Skated both palms over his chest, her touch softening when she felt the slight jerk of his body. Fingers skimming tenderly over the area that was probably already bruising. Her eyelids fluttered. But she couldn’t drag them open to check. Pent-up need was pumping through her, lending a sense of urgency.
The urgency dimmed the alarm bells shrilling in her mind. Didn’t still them completely. They were too well constructed for that. But muted them to a point that made it incredibly easy to ignore them altogether.
There was a surprising pleasure to be found here, pressed closely against him. To feel the leap in his chest when she scraped one of his nipples with her nail. To hear his breathing lose it’s steady rhythm and grow just a little choppy. And to feel. God, to feel. His fingers drew her nipple to a tight knot of nerves that shot shocks of desire straight to her womb.
She was used to inspiring desire in men. Desire that had everything to do with how she looked rather than who she was. So there was no reason for the evidence of this man’s desire to fill her with a thrilling sense of female satisfaction. No reason for it to amp up her need for him until it threatened to blur common sense. Blind her to consequences.
His thumb flicked her nipple. The sensual rhythm had her squirming on his lap. “Been a long time since I made out in my car.”
She could feel every word formed beneath her lips. One kiss. She recalled the invitation. And he’d yet to relinquish her mouth.
“Do I stay or go, Cait? Your call.”
Everything inside her stilled. She was distantly aware that he’d frozen, too, as if in anticipation of her response. Neither of them seemed to breathe while they waited for her response.
A response, that, when it came, took her as much by surprise as it seemed to him.
“Stay.” The word was breathed against his lips. For a moment he didn’t react. Neither of them did. There was a brief flare of panic as she considered her choice. Then that was diminished, as his breath streamed out of him. And the tethers harnessing his control seemed to fray.
There was a ferocious hunger evident now as his mouth ate at hers. His arms wrapped around her, a tight band that pressed her closer to his chest. A light flickered as he shifted. She felt herself being carried.
By the time she had her eyes dragged open to half mast they were standing in front of her motel door. She blinked, dazed. The man seemed endlessly resourceful. His lips moved to the corner of her mouth. “Key.”
“Purse. Outside pock—” Then sighed a little as his lips settled more firmly over hers again. She was dimly aware that he’d hung the purse on the doorknob while he went in search of the key. Mentally congratulated him when the door swung open a few moments later.
Then thought spun away as they were inside the room in two quick paces. She heard a thud. Then the door closed. And with a speed that was dizzying, found herself on her feet and pressed up against it.
There was no teasing in his touch now. Just raw unvarnished need with the slightest sheen of desperation. And that fanned the flames of her own desire to a scorching level. Their mouths twisted together in a kiss that was deep. Wet. Frankly carnal. Hands battled to unfasten snaps and buttons and zippers.
She wasn’t used to this rollicking in her pulse. This fierce compulsion to strip him bare so there’d be nothing but flesh against flesh with no whisper of air between them. To explore every hard angle of his shoulders and chest. The surprising softness of the skin on his sides. And lose herself in a journey of discovery that she didn’t want to end.
He released her mouth long enough to divest her of shirt and bra, and she hastened to shove his tee up and over his head. Then moaned a little at that first sensation of skin against skin. His fingers threaded in her hair to cup the back of her head as he sank into another kiss.
Heat, a quick stabbing spear of it, arrowed up her spine. It wasn’t enough to run her palms over his arms, down the strong back. She tore her mouth away from his, tried to get her breath. Lost it in the next moment when his hands cupped her breasts. Fingers stroking and lightly squeezing by turn.
She nipped at his shoulder in a savage thirst for flesh. Pushed the jeans she’d loosened down his narrow hips. And gave a purr of satisfaction when his heavy sex sprang forward, hard and ready.
When her hand wrapped around him, his hips jerked, then stilled. But she could feel him quivering in her palm. Straining for release. Her fingers glided down the shaft and back up. Once. Twice. Again. Then faltered in their rhythm as he leaned down to take one of her nipples into his mouth.
Colors fragmented behind her eyelids. And when his teeth scraped the nipple, an edgy blade of need nicked over nerve endings already unbearably sensitized. Her shorts were shoved aside and his fingers, those clever wicked fingers, traced the seam of her leg teasingly before delving inside her panties. Cupping her where she was damp and heated.
Her head lolled, her breath coming in short ragged pants. He took advantage of the position to raise his head and cruise his mouth along her throat, closing his teeth on the sensitive cord there. And when he parted her folds and slipped one finger inside her, Cait’s knees went to water.
Sensation after sensation battered at her. Even as he explored her, his thumb pressed and released against her clitoris in a rhythm designed to drive her to madness.
It was a journey she was determined not to take alone.
She traced the length of him with dancing fingers, alternating between a lighter touch and the firmer one his hunger would demand. And had a moment of pure feminine satisfaction when he thrust against her hand demandingly.
The feeling was replaced by satisfaction of another sort, when the first shattering climax ripped through her, graying her vision and startling a cry from deep in her throat.
“Yes.” She heard his voice in her ear. Struggled to recover from the eddies of pleasure still battering her. “More. Again.”
She shook her head weakly. It was too much. Too soon. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t tear away the fog of release to climb the slippery slope of desire again.
But he proved her a liar in the next moment. His touch deft and insistent, he had pleasure building again in long lush waves. Helplessly, her hands climbed to his shoulders. Clutched there as her body quaked and followe
d him up and up and up to the peak he was relentlessly driving her toward.
Then pushed her over it. Ruthlessly using hands and lips and teeth to intensify sensation from a thousand individual pulse points so the implosion went on and on until she was a weak shuddering mass. Grateful for the solid support of the door behind her.
Cait felt him move away, lifted a protesting hand. And had to force open eyelids that seemed weighted. Zach was stripping with quick frantic movements. Digging into his pocket for a foil wrapper that he seemed to have an inordinate amount of difficulty opening.
“Shit.”
The edge of desperation to his voice had her smiling. And since feeling was beginning to return to her limbs, she said, “Let me.”
“I don’t think so. I know my limits.” He swore again, savagely, before finally ripping the package and donning the condom.
His choice of words gave her pause. For a man who knew his limits, he seemed dangerously close to the edge of them now. Anticipation pooled in the pit of her stomach. Because she was going to do her level best to tip him over.
Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts she dragged them over her hips and let them fall to the floor before stepping out of them. Then caught his gaze on her. Heavy-lidded and intent. And impossibly, the blood in her veins turned molten.
The wisp of black panties hadn’t been chosen with seduction in mind. But from the expression on his face, they worked admirably in that regard.
He took two quick steps and she was in his arms again. And this time she could feel the tiny tremors coursing through his body. Feel his shredding restraint in the pressure of his kiss. And knew, as a bolt of exhilaration twisted through her, that she’d never caused such genuine unvarnished need. It elicited an answering hunger in her. An appetite for returning every bit of pleasure she’d received and watching it mark him. Change him the way she was very much afraid the experience had altered her.
Without releasing her mouth, he tugged her panties down her legs. And when she stepped out of them, his hand was already under her butt. Lifting her.
Bracing herself with one hand on his shoulder, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked them both to the bed.
He was inside her before her back hit the mattress.
They were both still for a moment. Cait was a little stunned. A bit panicked. He filled her with a completeness that bordered on the uncomfortable. She hadn’t been kidding about how long it’d been for her. She shifted slightly, feeling surrounded by the breadth of him. Then stopped as she felt the delicate throb of his penis inside her. Felt herself soften as a fist of need clutched in her belly.
She opened her eyes. Found him watching her. And her breath strangled in her lungs. There was nothing shuttered about his gaze at the moment. His eyes looked more gold than brown in the shadows. And in that moment, she knew he thought of nothing but her. Saw nothing but her.
Cait arched her hips, a silent invitation, and one that he met with a long slow thrust. His hand crept between their bodies to cup her breast, while the other remained wrapped under her hips. She could read the urgency in the way the skin pulled tightly across his cheekbones. In his clenched jaw. But still he held back, keeping his movements controlled.
Until she smiled into his eyes. Reached down to touch him where their bodies were joined. And felt him shudder against her as his control abruptly snapped.
Zach surged into her again and again, and this time she met him stroke for stroke. Desire was firing through her veins. The hem of her vision was hazing. But she kept her eyes open. Fixed on his. The night rushed in, crowding their bodies on the bed. She could see nothing but him. Hear only the rasp of their breathing. The slap of flesh against flesh. The beat of her blood, roaring through her veins. Hammering in her ears.
Her heels dug into his back. She was wrapped around him. And still it wasn’t close enough. His hips pounded against hers in a primal frantic pace until he surged wildly, and she felt the last little bit of sanity slip away as the climax tossed her up. Spun her dizzily.
And when he followed her into madness, when senses were dimmed and there was only feeling, she imagined she heard her name on his lips.
So Sharper was screwing the consultant. Interesting.
He stared at the closed motel door, mind racing. He’d been watching Fleming’s motel room when he had the chance ever since he’d learned where she was staying. Not that there’d been anything of interest to discover. She went in. She came out. Always alone.
Until now. Now she was in there with Sharper.
He sat in his darkened vehicle in the shadows of the motel lot. Wondered what the information meant. Other than the fact that Sharper was a horny bastard who somehow managed to nail every decent-looking woman around these parts. He’d always been a lucky SOB. Because Caitlin Fleming was as close to perfect as any female he’d seen off the screen.
The thought was purely objective. The only interest he had in the woman was figuring out what she knew. And keeping her from learning more.
Because there was nothing more to see, he started his car. There had to be a way to use this dirty little detail. Knowledge was power. And he was an expert in acquiring knowledge. A few scenarios occurred but didn’t hold up under closer consideration.
He put the car into gear and headed for the street, being careful to stay in the shadows. Something would come to him. It always did.
One thing was clear.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that he’d have to get rid of Caitlin Fleming.
Chapter 14
Cait shifted restlessly on the bed, but her movements were restricted. There was a furnace of heat sealed against her back. A weight around her waist, over her legs, that pinned her in place. Her unconscious sounded an alarm and her eyes snapped open. Took an instant to adjust to the dim light in the room.
And in that instant, comprehension filtered in.
She looked down at the hair-roughened arm draped carelessly over her. Who would have figured Sharper for a cud dler? Although it was probably more likely that he was simply a bed hog and she’d merely been an obstacle preventing him from claiming all the mattress space.
Eyeing the bathroom door, she wondered how she could go about freeing herself without waking the man. It’d be infinitely easier if she had a shower before facing him. A jolt of caffeine wouldn’t hurt, either, but the room didn’t run to amenities like coffee makers. Carefully she tried inching away. His arm tightened and she stopped. Tried to turn her head to see if she’d wakened him.
In the next moment it became a moot point. A phone rang. They sat up in bed simultaneously. Cait looked around for her purse. Saw it lying on the floor inside the door, contents half spilled out.
Zach was rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw, his eyes drowsy. “Is that yours or mine?”
“I don’t know.” They both listened for a moment. Heard two different alerts. “Sounds like both of ours.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose to pad across the room, unconcerned about his nudity. Which was just as well, Cait observed, because she’d been wondering how to retrieve her phone without making a production of wrapping herself in a sheet like a Victorian virgin.
She could only imagine the comments that would have elicited from Sharper. But she was uncertain that she was up to prancing around the room in front of him wearing nothing at all.
Although the sight of him doing the same wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes.
“Here.” The purse he tossed toward her almost hit her in the head. She preferred to blame that on early-morning sluggishness and not being hopelessly diverted by the sight of his tight male buns. He was already answering his call while she was still fumbling for her cell.
“Yeah, Tuck. What’s up?”
Cait’s phone had gone silent by the time she reached it. And looking at the screen, she figured that was a good thing. Talking to her mother could wait until after this case was over. It certainly wasn’t something sh
e’d tackle first thing in the morning, on any day.
“Why, what happened?” Silence on his end for a moment, then, “Let me check.”
He came back to sit on the edge of the bed, looking at her inquiringly. “What’s my schedule today?”
“I . . .” There was a jagged scar on his shoulder. Wide, like too much flesh had been torn away for the skin to heal evenly. And she knew without asking that shrapnel had caused it.
She forced her gaze to his face and mentally regrouped. “I have to go to Eugene. Maybe for only part of the day, but likely I’ll be in the lab until evening.”
He returned to his call. “Yeah, Tuck, I can take the IK trip. How many rafts? Uh-huh. What’s the meeting point?”
It occurred to her that now was as good a time as any to make her escape. So while his back was turned, she slipped from the bed and hurried to the bathroom. And tried not to think of it as fleeing.
Turning on the shower, she waited for the water to warm before stepping inside the enclosure. She might even get lucky and Sharper would have left before she got done. Calling herself a coward for having the thought didn’t make it disappear. She’d walked into last night with her eyes wide open. But facing him today was another story. Sex wasn’t the only area in which she was out of practice.
She was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair when the shower door opened. Before she could say a word, Zach was crowding inside the cramped space. “Ah . . . I’m almost done here.”
“Seems sort of stingy to shower alone when I’m right in the next room.” He picked up the bar of scented soap she’d brought and began to lather his hands. “Here in Oregon, we take conservation seriously. We’re very green.”
“I’ve already washed, thanks.” One-handed, of course, which hadn’t gotten any less awkward, as she’d attempted to keep her right hand out of the spray in an effort to keep the Steri-Strips dry. But certainly she hadn’t spent the care he was expending as he soaped her breasts. Trailing a path of lather down her stomach. Lower.