by Deborah Camp
“You and your surprises,” he said, setting her on her feet and taking possession of her bag. “I suppose Quintara knows all about this.”
“She does.” She drank him in, her eyes thirsty for the sight of him. Anticipation curled around and around in her stomach as he unlocked the suite door and motioned her to go inside. The sitting room was intimate with French doors that opened to a private balcony with a view of the beach and ocean. The doors were closed, but she thought she could hear the faint sound of crashing waves and crying seagulls. Moving farther into the room, she looked through another open door and saw a king-sized bed fitted with pale peach linens.
“Why did you decide to come here? Did something happen with the case?” Levi asked, coming up behind her. His fingertips danced from her neck all the way down her spine.
“This isn’t about me.” She stepped back into him and reached up behind her, locking her fingers against his nape. His hands moved up to cover her breasts and he dragged the tip of his tongue up her neck to the back of her ear. “I’m here for you,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen you work and I wanted to. I missed you so much.” A quiver of desire shook her as his thumbs brushed over her nipples that had hardened and poked against her clothing, eager for the contact of his skin, his tongue, his teeth.
“Feel me?” he murmured, grinding himself against her, the hard ridge of his arousal branding her backside. His lips skimmed down the side of her face and he caught her earlobe between his teeth. “All for you.”
She started to turn around, but he caught her up in his arms and made for the bedroom. Placing her on the bed, he went down on his knees in front of her and kissed her, his hand fisting in her hair to hold her still while his tongue surged into her mouth, firing her senses. His blatant hunger for her doubled her own for him and she gripped the sides of his jacket and pushed it roughly off his shoulders. Her urgency made him break the kiss and stare into her eyes, his searching, questioning.
“We can’t do this anymore, Levi,” she said, hurriedly loosening his tie.
“What? What are you saying?” He gripped her wrists, holding them fast as worry pinched the skin between his eyes.
“Be apart,” she said, only then realizing that, once again, he thought she was bailing on him. “Even a day is agony. Two days without you is torture.”
The worry eased, smoothing his brow. He unbuttoned her blouse, kissing the patches of skin he revealed as he went. “I couldn’t cancel this, Tru. I have commitments that—.”
“I know, I know.” She caught fire under his hands and lips. Toeing off her shoes, she wrenched her arms free of her blouse and sighed with pleasure when he unfastened her bra to free her breasts. He caught them up in his hands, lifting them, his mouth seeking and finding one nipple and then the other, his tongue flicking, flirting, and circling each one in turn.
He was her drug of choice, she thought as she stripped the shirt off him and unbuckled his leather belt. She wanted to mainline him. He suckled her breasts, keeping her focus on the web of feelings that spread through her, drugging her so that she wasn’t even aware that his hands had moved up her skirt until she felt him tug her panties off. He tossed them aside and pressed her back onto the bed, his movements resolute and certain like a seasoned predator.
Gripping her ankles, he lifted her legs, bending them at the knee, and planted her feet on the edge of the mattress. His mouth and tongue caressed her intimately, kissing, sucking, nipping her. She writhed, passion building in her like a summer squall, breaking over her in a deluge of emotions that blotted out her thoughts. When she came back to herself, he was still between her legs, his mouth busy, his feverish gaze locking on hers.
“Enough,” she gasped. “I want you inside me.”
His tongue penetrated, delving deeper. She arched up and he gripped her hips, forcing them back down, making her keep still. He sucked her clitoris and it felt like it was a hot coal against his tongue.
“I want . . . m-more of you than that inside me,” she amended.
“You taste better than any woman on the planet,” he said between long licks. “I could easily make a meal of you. And your scent . . . fuck, I wish I could bottle it.”
She’d never get used to how he talked to her – so boldly, so unabashedly. He could be closed off and uncommunicative, but as a seducer he was raw, open, and verbal. She unfastened and unzipped her skirt and pushed it down. He helped her shed it. Wiggling her fingers, she beckoned him. “Get naked and come here, Mr. Wolfe.”
“And you call me bossy,” he said, straightening and slowly, teasingly, removing his shirt, shoes, and socks. He was a living, breathing, Greek statue. Black, wildly tousled hair, burning eyes, his biceps, pectorals, and abdominals flexing under his skin. She curled her fingers into her palms as the ache to touch him intensified.
Inching his trousers and black jockey briefs down over his hips, he gradually revealed the sexy V of muscle and sinew that heated her blood every time she saw it. He grinned as she rose on her elbows for a better look. Finally released, his cock bobbed up, engorged, veined, the tip glistening. Her mouth actually watered.
Without even thinking about it, Trudy leaned forward and gripped him, moving her hand up and down in the way she knew he liked. His head dropped back and his eyes rolled up as a groan of appreciation rumbled from him. She licked the salty tasting tip and then sucked it hard. His hips jutted toward her and he clamped his hands on either side of her head.
“Christ, baby. You’re killing me.”
She would have continued her oral appreciation of him, but he had a different plan. He hooked an arm around her waist and spun her so that she was lying on her belly. Hitching her hips up, he drove into her from behind. Surprised by his swift penetration, her cry of shock became a moan of pleasure as he set a mind-blowing pace, his hips undulating as he gripped one of her shoulders and grabbed a handful of her hair for better leverage and total control.
“Levi, Levi, Levi!” she grunted out his name as he slammed into her over and over again. Her body began to tense, gathering itself for an inner explosion. His grip on her hair eased and he slowed his almost punishing rhythm. Leaning over her, he kissed her nape and the side of her neck, his lips tender in contrast to his purposeful thrusts.
“Come for me, Trudy,” he whispered hotly in her ear. “Come around me. Come over me. Soak me. I want to drown in you.”
The rough magic of his words and the precise circling of his hips sent her spiraling over the edge into the velvety darkness of orgasm. Freefalling, she felt his fingers pinch her tight nipples and caress her back, making her tremble even more violently. He held her hips and jutted into her, then stilled as she convulsed deep inside, clutching him, stroking him. Coming down off her high, her limbs were rubbery as he pulled out of her and rolled her onto her back. He brought her legs up, hooking them over his shoulders, and entered her again.
“Levi . . . God, Levi . . .” She gripped the sheets at her sides. He was still hard and unrelenting in his search for his own release.
“You think you miss me?” he asked, stroking her in and out as he caressed her thighs. “You don’t know the half of it.”
She focused on his face, thinking he sounded a little angry. His eyes glittered in the shadowy room and she caught the glint of his teeth when he spoke through them. Not angry, she realized. Anguished.
“I fucking ache for you. I walk the floor. I work out in the gym all night because I can’t sleep. And jerking off won’t slake my hunger for you. It only makes it worse. Makes me want you, want you, want you, fucking want you.” He punctuated with jabbing, jolting thrusts that tightened her body again and made her pulse thrum in her ears. He hissed in a breath and emptied into her in long, shuddering surges that sent little sparks through her.
He kissed her knees and ankles before letting her legs slide off his wide shoulders. Crawling over her, he supported himself on his arms and stared down into her face.
“Tired?”
She no
dded, smiling faintly.
“Take a little nap. You’ll need it.” He lowered himself to kiss the tip of her nose before lifting himself up off her again. “I’m not finished with you.”
“Wh-what?” she asked with a nervous laugh. Her muscles were jelly and her insides still quivered from his total domination of her.
“You heard me. I’m going to fuck you all night. I’m going to pound into you until I can’t get another rise out of my cock.”
She ran her hands over his perspiration dotted forehead and cheeks. “Ease up, Levi. I’m here. We’re together. You need to rest. Come here. Let me hold you.”
He frowned and his body stiffened. “I’m not tired.”
“I am.” She rested one hand at the back of his head and applied pressure until he relented and settled his warm, slightly sweaty body halfway on hers, his cheek nestling between her breasts. “Relax,” she whispered, combing his hair with her fingers. “Let me hold you. Let me lavish some loving comfort on my hard working man.”
She felt his cheek move with his smile and his breath fanned across her skin with his long sigh.
“That’s right,” she said. “Relax, Levi. Sleep.”
She could see the face of his wristwatch, the numbers and hands softly glowing in the semi-darkness of the room. He was deeply asleep before three minutes passed.
###
Trudy dozed off and on through the evening and night. She texted Quintara that Levi wouldn’t be at dinner and Quintara texted back a winking emoticon. She was grateful that Levi slept soundly, hardly even moving throughout the night. His was an exhaustive sleep, which didn’t surprise her. He hadn’t been sleeping well before he’d left and from what he’d said, his insomnia had gotten worse. It was amazing to her that he could function so competently when he had to be bone weary.
But he was a remarkable individual. Every day proved it more to her.
She finally fell soundly asleep around four in the morning, waking a couple of hours later when Levi jerked awake. She kissed his forehead and caressed his shoulder.
“What’s the time?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“Ummm . . .” She squinted at his wristwatch. “Six fifteen.”
“Dinner’s at seven-thirty,” he mumbled.
She laughed lightly. “It’s morning, Levi.”
“Huh?” He raised his head and blinked owlishly, then rolled onto his back in a lazy sprawl. “Oh, what the hell. I guess I needed the sleep.”
“I guess you did.” She snuggled against his side and draped one leg between his. “What time is your flight out?”
“Two something.”
“Good. Same flight as mine. Let’s sleep in.”
“I have a better idea. Let’s sleep out.”
She raised her head to look at him. His eyes were closed, but he was smiling. “Sleep out?”
“Yes!” He bounded from bed, gathered the soft, peach sheet around her, and lifted her into his arms. “Out!” He carried her from the bedroom and pushed open the French doors, chuckling as she scrambled to drape the linens around her body. The sounds and smells of the ocean washed over them. “We shouldn’t waste this view.” He settled her on a double lounge and joined her, tugging her into his arms and letting her cover them both with the bed sheet. “Good idea?”
“Lovely idea.”
“I almost changed rooms because I didn’t want to be alone with this view. It made me melancholy. Lonely.”
She kissed his jaw and nuzzled his ear. Tall potted plants provided a screen on both sides of the balcony, giving them privacy. The sun hadn’t yet risen, so stars dotted the violet sky. The white sandy beach seemed to glow and the ocean waves shone blackish blue. A few birds soared, eager for first light and a new day. It was a perfect setting for new beginnings.
“Levi, after the first of the year, I’m moving to Atlanta.”
He was running his fingertips softly up and down her arm, but her words stilled them. “You mean, you’re moving more of your things in?”
“All of my things . . . well, I suppose I’ll sell my furniture.”
“Wait. Hold up.” He leaned sideways to stare at her. “What are you saying?”
“This back-and-forth situation isn’t going to work for us,” she said, smiling encouragement. “Your business is in Atlanta and you need to be there as much as possible. I can work as easily in Atlanta as I can in Tulsa. I’ll sell my furniture and anything else I don’t need or won’t look right in your place.”
“No, you can’t do that. You love your furniture and . . . and old stuff.”
She grinned at him and kissed his parted lips. “My old stuff. Antiques, you mean? Yes, I do love them and that’s why I collected them.” She ran a fingertip down the center of his chest. “But I love you more. I’ve been selfish about this, Levi. You’ve turned your life upside-down for me and I’ve let you. That’s changing.”
“Have I said or done something to make you feel this way? Trudy, you’re close to your family and you won’t be happy moving away from them.”
“That was true a few months ago, but now I’m not happy unless I’m with you. My family will understand and we’ll visit often. Look, people move away from their hometowns all the time. It will be fine. You’ll see.”
“What about your house?”
“I’m leasing it to my cousin. She works in the admissions office at the University of Tulsa, so it will be convenient for her. She told Mother that her apartment lease is up in March and she wants to move nearer to TU.”
“I don’t want you to get rid of all your things, Tru. We’ll store them. We’ll find another place in Atlanta where we can use your furniture.” He bent his head and kissed her. “You should bring whatever you want to the penthouse. If you’re moving in full-time, then the place should feel like your home.”
“It does already because it’s so you. I actually miss Wes and Gonzo and Darla.” She flung an arm over his middle and hugged him. “I like your place.”
“Our place.”
“Oh, right.” She laughed. “Our place.” It felt odd saying it. “Someday that will fall off my tongue effortlessly.”
“Someday soon, hopefully.” He shifted onto his side to face her. “I bought you a car—.”
“No, you did not!”
“— and it’s waiting for you in Atlanta. It’s your Christmas present from me.”
“I already have a car!”
“Sell it. Sell the RV, while you’re at it. Bank the money.”
She closed her eyes, counting to ten. Infuriating, bossy, domineering! “How many times do I have to tell you that I like my RV?”
“How many times do I have tell you that I don’t?” He stared hard at her. “I’m not traveling in that thing when I can stay in hotels like this. We’re going to work on cases together, right? So, sell the tin can.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. She knew that look – that diamond-hard, I’m-not-budging-on-this look. “What kind of car?”
“An orange one. Custom painted just for my baby.”
She smiled, in spite of herself. “My favorite color!”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “It’s a Porshe Panamera S e-hybrid. You’ll look wicked-sexy in it.”
She frowned at him, but had to force it. “You win.”
“Oh, I do love that.” He trailed kisses down her neck and over her shoulder. “You smell like sex, Miss Tucker.”
“I wonder why?” she mused, smiling when he chuckled, lustily.
“It appears that a man has had carnal knowledge of you. Oh, I paid off your mortgage and student loans, too.”
She shoved away from him, staring slack-jawed at his smirk. She balled her hand into a fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You ratfink! I told you not to do that.”
“Did you? I forgot,” he rejoined, laughing at her. “I’m back to being a ratfink, huh? Do you know that you’re the only woman I’ve ever met who pitched a fit and hit me when I gave her presents and bought thi
ngs for her?”
She wrinkled her nose. “You do this a lot, do you? Pay off loans and buy cars for women?”
He gave her a chiding look. “Only you, Tru. I have a staff full of women whom I give presents to at appropriate times, and there’s Quintara, of course. But cars and loans?” He lifted her left hand to his lips and kissed her ring. “Only for my girl.”
Such a simple thing to say – my girl – so why did it fill her heart with such unfettered joy? She rested her hand along his cheek and he turned his head to kiss her wrist where she knew he could feel her pulse racing. A thought crept through her mind like a cloud obscuring the sun.
“Levi . . .” A scrap of sound. “Remember when you told me that if we had to be apart for more than a couple of weeks, you’d cheat on me?”
He grimaced. “I remember.”
“You still feel that way?”
“I said that before I realized you already owned me. I was horny as hell and missing you and I was speaking from past experiences. But I’ve never felt like this before. You get that, don’t you? You surely know that being in love . . . I never thought it could happen for me. Until you.”
His gaze held hers, tenderly and then with a darker intent. He slid his hand down her thigh and hooked his fingers at the back of her knee, pulling her leg up over his hip.
“You’re all I want and everything I need,” he whispered. He hitched her up higher to align her with his stiffening member. Palming her backside, he slipped two long fingers, inside of her. She arched reflexively against him. His eyes became slightly unfocused. “You’re so wet. I love that you’re so wet for me, Tru.”