by Jenna Black
But, of course, I knew all too well.
“This is one of those goddamn dominance things, isn’t it?” I asked, trying to sound as irritated as I thought I ought to feel.
He nipped at my lower lip, then soothed the sting with his tongue. “It has nothing to do with that,” he assured me. “All I want is to give you some pleasure. I want to give, not take. No ulterior motives, no hidden agendas.”
I’d have argued with him, but he plunged his tongue into my mouth, and the only sound I could make was a moan.
The part of me that never stops thinking knew that whatever he might say, there was more to this than the simple giving of pleasure. If he hadn’t had his little chat with Lugh, it never would have occurred to him to do this. But my body told me in no uncertain terms that thinking was highly overrated. With my defenses weakened by sleep deprivation, I gave in to my body’s demands and stopped struggling to free my wrists.
As soon as I surrendered, Brian let go of my wrists, using one hand to draw maddening circles on the slope of my breast while his tongue tangled with mine. Instinct urged me to wrap my arms around him again, to hold him close to me and feel the warmth of his skin under my hands. I fought those instincts, kissing him back with every drop of my passion while I lay still beneath him.
There was an unaccustomed glitter in his eyes when he raised his head, along with a hunger I knew he planned not to sate, at least not tonight. I shivered, again not sure if it was because of anticipation or unease.
His head lowered once more, and he trailed kisses down my throat. I had to curl my hands into fists to keep from running my fingers through his hair. As he worked his way down, those circles he’d been drawing on my breast finally shrank until a single finger brushed my nipple, over and over. My back arched into that touch, but his hand moved away far before I was ready. The good news was his mouth was moving steadily south.
I didn’t completely understand the game he was playing until his mouth started circling my nipple, mimicking the pattern his fingers had made before, and his hand slid down past my navel. When I realized that his mouth was going to continue following the trail blazed by his fingers, I practically came right then and there. Maybe if I hadn’t been so tired, I would have.
He moved so slowly it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming my impatience. Mouth and fingers working in perfect synchronization, circling, circling, circling, but never quite getting to their final destinations. When I arched my back to try to get my nipple into his mouth, he carefully compensated for the movement, just as his fingers did when I lifted my hips.
“You bastard,” I gasped, and his laughter buzzed against my skin, yet another erotic stimulus. Note to self: don’t amuse him again, it only makes the torment worse.
I groaned when his fingers circled close enough to my clit that, with just the tiniest hint more speed or pressure, I’d have gone off like a rocket. But he knew me too well, knew how to read every nuance of my responses so that he could keep me on that razor’s edge without pushing me over. I swallowed a number of curses and considered using a quick burst of power to roll us over so I was on top and could impale myself on him.
My few rational brain cells reminded me he was still fully clothed, but perhaps he’d sensed that thought, for his mouth left my breast and began once more following the trail of his fingers. I grabbed a double handful of the covers to remind myself to keep still. Because no matter what other emotions and desires were jumbling together within me, I knew with perfect clarity that I wanted his mouth to complete that journey.
He didn’t move any faster, despite my increasing desperation. I bit down on my lip to keep myself from begging. My breath came so short it was a good thing I didn’t hyperventilate, and my skin quivered and twitched under the artful caresses of his tongue.
I took a certain savage satisfaction in the fact that once Brian had made his way down to the juncture of my thighs, some of that inhuman control seemed to snap. Instead of teasing me mercilessly as he had with his fingers, his tongue took only a brief sample before he settled in to work in earnest. And then pleasure overrode every other thought and sensation until I swear I almost forgot how to breathe.
When the last spasm fluttered into oblivion, I felt like every muscle in my body had been transformed to jelly. My heart continued to gallop, my breaths continued to come out in short gasps, but there was no question that I was much more relaxed. Even with the lingering buzz of caffeine in my nerves, I found my eyelids heavy, my mind free.
Brian didn’t say anything, and he seemed content to let me drift in the afterglow while he himself went hungry. My eyes slid closed, and the last thing I remembered was Brian tucking the covers up under my chin and planting a chaste kiss on my forehead.
I awoke the next morning to the enticing scent of coffee. For a moment after I awoke, I just lay there, smelling the coffee while debating whether to let myself drop back into sleep. Then my brain cells started waking up, and I knew there would be no more sleep for me.
Rubbing bleary eyes, I sat up just as Brian pushed through my bedroom door carrying a mug that smelled heavenly.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling at me as he held out the mug.
I grunted something incoherent and tried not to spill anything as I snatched the mug from his hand and took a big gulp. I burned my tongue in the process, but I didn’t care. Even in my morning stupor, it occurred to me that the last thing I remembered was Brian tucking me in, which meant Lugh hadn’t bothered to ream me out last night. I should have been grateful. Instead, I merely felt uneasy.
“What time is it?” I asked, since he was standing between me and my bedside clock.
“Quarter after eleven,” he said, and I almost choked on my coffee.
Shaking my head in a futile attempt to clear the cobwebs, I leaned past him to double-check the clock, just in case he was yanking my chain, but he wasn’t.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I asked, stifling a yawn.
“I took a personal day.”
For some reason, that admission made my eyes sting. Maybe just because Brian is usually so uptight, and I knew what a concession it was for him to stay home from work.
“Lugh and I had a bit of a chat last night,” he continued, and I froze.
“Shit,” I mumbled.
Brian laughed. “Relax. We didn’t discuss your sex life.”
“Glad to hear it,” I said unconvincingly. “What did you discuss?” I wrapped both hands around my mug, my skin soaking in the warmth as inside I shivered in a phantom chill. I really didn’t like the idea of Lugh and Brian talking.
“He told me about Tommy Brewster.”
“Tattletale,” I muttered under my breath.
“Were you ever going to tell me about this?” He didn’t sound particularly angry, which made me feel guilty. If he’d started scolding me for holding back, I could have torn into him for not letting me have MySpace. I’d probably have liked that better.
I shrugged, hoping I didn’t look as guilty as I felt. “Do you tell me about the cases you’re working on every day?”
“My cases aren’t likely to get me killed.”
I dismissed that with a wave of my hand. “This case isn’t dangerous. And I’m not doing anything official on it anyway. I’ve handed it off to Adam, so if anyone’s in danger, it’s him.”
“Hmm,” Brian said, and he didn’t sound particularly convinced. He did, however, drop the subject. Too bad I didn’t like the next subject any better. “Lugh also told me what you two are arguing about.”
I winced and mumbled another curse. Lugh and I were going to have another talk about respecting my privacy. “So he’s convinced you to argue his case, which is why he didn’t bother me last night.”
Brian grinned at me. “Actually, no. He tried to convince me to argue his case. I even told him I would. But frankly, I’d much rather stay out of the middle.”
I drank a little more coffee as I pondered his position. I supposed it m
ade sense. Unless Lugh had convinced him that my safety was at stake, there was no reason to suspect Brian of siding against me. Of course, suspicion is second nature to me.
“He’s right about one thing,” Brian continued, and my suspicious nature leapt to the forefront.
“Aha!” I practically shouted. “Now comes the part where you argue his side while trying to sound like you’re not.”
Brian gave me a look of long-suffering patience. “If you’ll let me finish. .” I bit my tongue and nodded. “As I was saying, he’s right that this is a battle you’re eventually going to lose. I can’t stay here to keep you awake every night, and you can’t stay awake indefinitely.”
Pissed off at him even though I didn’t really have any reason to be, I shoved the covers off and made a beeline for my closet to grab my robe. At least, that’s what I intended to do, but Brian took hold of my arm to stop me.
“Why are you angry with me?” he asked quite reasonably. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”
I glared at his hand until he let go of me. I felt at a distinct disadvantage arguing with him while I was stark naked, so I put on my robe, giving myself a couple moments to calm down. I knew I was overreacting. I knew it wasn’t really Brian I was angry with. But somehow, that didn’t seem to help me fight off the anger.
“Instead of getting pissed about it,” Brian said, “why don’t you just sit down and talk to me and we’ll see if we can come up with a way out of the problem.”
I let out a huff of frustration. “There is no way out, as you just pointed out.”
Brian crossed the room and turned me to face him, his hands warm and solid on my shoulders. “We’ll find one, okay? Can you just assume I’m not the enemy and talk to me?”
The hint of hurt in his eyes made my heart ache, and before I knew what I was going to do, I had put my arms around him and squeezed tight.
“I know you’re not the enemy,” I murmured against his collarbone as he returned my embrace. “And I’m sorry I’m such a bitch. I just. . I want my life back, and I know I’m not going to get it, at least not anytime soon.”
“I understand,” he assured me. “And I love you even when you’re being bitchy.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Good thing, that.”
His lips brushed the top of my head. “Yup.”
I laughed again, slapping his chest and taking a step back. “Jerk! You didn’t have to agree with me.”He just grinned. I let the humor bleed out of me and retreated back to the bed, grabbing my coffee once more. Brian joined me, sitting close enough that I could feel the heat of his body beside me as I quietly sipped my coffee. He didn’t say anything, choosing instead to sit beside me in supportive, companionable silence. It felt surprisingly good. Domestic, even. And then Brian had to go and ruin it.
“You know,” he said softly. “If we were living together, we could have quiet mornings like this every day.”
My hand clenched on my mug, and I ground my teeth. It had been quite a while since he’d trotted that one out. I’d turned him down enough times in the past that I would have thought he’d have learned his lesson. I shook my head and refused to look at him.
“I’m really grateful to you for staying with me last night,” I said, “but we still have. . issues. You know that.”
“You mean you have issues,” he countered, but he didn’t sound particularly upset.
I should have bristled, but somehow I couldn’t find the energy. “If one of us has an issue, then we both have an issue.” I put the coffee mug down and turned to face him. He was wearing his lawyer face, the one he wore when he didn’t want me to know what he was feeling. I hated that face, but I couldn’t blame him at the moment.
“Even if I totally forget about how you and Lugh have teamed up against me, I can’t forget that there are a lot of people out there who want to kill me, and they’re not the sort to worry if an innocent bystander gets hurt in the process.”
“We’ve been through all that before. I’ll be in the line of fire no matter what.” He smiled, but it was a half-hearted expression. “But don’t worry. I didn’t expect you to fall into my arms and give me everything I want. I just wanted to remind you that I still want it.”
What can I say? The man is just too good for me, but I can’t seem to convince him of the fact.
“So now that we have that out of the way,” he said, “let’s talk about what you should do with the Adam and Dominic situation.”
Neither one of us actually believed that it was “out of the way,” but I decided I could pretend as well as Brian. “If you have any brilliant ideas, I’d love to hear them.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know if this counts as a ‘brilliant idea,’ but I do have a suggestion. You think that if Lugh gets to introduce the idea to Adam, Adam’s going to agree, right?”
I nodded. “He won’t like it, but when Lugh says to jump, Adam’s one of those idiots who asks ‘how high?’”
“And you think Dominic will agree because he wants to be a hero.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“So maybe you should try to convince Dominic to be a different kind of hero.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“Adam will agree because he thinks he has no choice but to obey his king, but it’s going to tear him up inside. So make sure Dominic understands what putting Saul back in his body will do to Adam. Maybe then he won’t be willing to host Saul.”
I bit my lip, thinking about it. It made a certain amount of sense. But timing could be very important. If Adam mentioned his extracurricular activities and Dom didn’t take it well, then he might not be in the right frame of mind. I suddenly wished I hadn’t badgered Adam into agreeing to tell the truth.
“That sounds like as good a plan as any,” I told Brian, “but I’m still going to wait before I say anything. I’d rather have something more foolproof.”
Brian gave me a grave look. “I don’t think foolproof is going to be an option.”
He was probably right. But as they say, hope springs eternal.
CHAPTER 14
Brian left shortly after lunch—actually, breakfast for me, if you want to be technical about it. He said he need to catch a few Zs, and I figured he was more than entitled.
I was still feeling pretty groggy after my long night’s sleep. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself today. I could try to harass Tommy in hopes that he’d let something slip, but aside from the fact that I didn’t think it would work, I was also pretty sure it wouldn’t be good for my health. Probably Tommy wouldn’t stoop to any kind of violence against me, not when he would be the immediate prime suspect and a conviction could get him killed. But this was one of those instances where I’d really hate to be proven wrong.
With my brain feeling so fuzzy, I decided to set myself to the patently uncerebral task of doing laundry. I spent most of my afternoon sitting in my building’s creepy basement laundry room watching my clothes spin in the dryer. I’d have gotten through it much faster, but apparently Wednesday was Little Old Lady Laundry Day, because there was a steady procession of them hogging the machines. I had to hang around like a vulture waiting for its prey to die.
I was in a decidedly grumpy mood and still had one more load to do when I gave up for the day. That damn laundry room was super-heated from all the hot air of the dryers, I was soaked with sweat, and my throat was parched from the dry heat. I couldn’t take any more, so I dragged my current clean load upstairs and told myself I’d finish up later.
My cell phone rang while I was putting the laundry away, and I debated whether I wanted to answer or not. When the caller ID told me it was Claudia, I decided I should take it.
Turned out it wasn’t Claudia, it was her secretary. Claudia was stuck in important meetings all afternoon, but she wanted to meet with me. Her secretary asked me if seven o’clock at Bookbinder’s would fit into my schedule.
I was momentarily speechl
ess. I wasn’t officially working for Claudia, so could this actually be considered a business meeting? It seemed not, and yet surely she wouldn’t have tasked her secretary to make her social arrangements. And surely she wouldn’t have assumed I could afford to eat at places like Bookbinder’s at the drop of a hat. I really wanted to ask the secretary who’d be paying for this meal, but I figured that would be kind of tacky.
In the end, I agreed to the meeting. If I ended up having to pay, at least I’d be getting a first-class meal out of it. And if I didn’t have to pay, it would be a free first-class meal. Yeah, yeah, typical me, thinking with my stomach.
I gathered from Claudia’s secretary that she would be coming straight to dinner from work. I figured I should try to dress a little businesslike to put her at her ease, but I didn’t own anything appropriate for a boardroom. I decided on a pair of white pinstriped pants that might have looked like business wear if they hadn’t ridden so low on my hips, paired with a metallic silver tank top that dipped low enough to show some pretty serious cleavage. I looked more like I was going clubbing than going out to eat at a fancy restaurant for business, but it was the best I could do. I hadn’t even come close to replacing the extensive wardrobe I’d lost in the fire.
The Old Original Bookbinder’s is located near the Delaware River and is either a first-class seafood restaurant, or a tourist trap, depending on whom you ask. When I was a kid, every time we had someone come visit from out of town, there’d be a requisite trip to Bookbinder’s for a lobster dinner. It used to be there was another restaurant called Bookbinder’s on Fifteenth Street. They both billed themselves as being the “original” Bookbinder’s, and my dad would regale visitors with stories—possibly more urban legend than history—about the bitter battles between the two for the right to use the name. The one on Fifteenth Street—which was “original” because it was owned and operated by the original Bookbinder’s family—is gone now, but the one by the riverfront—which is “original” because it’s the location of the original Bookbinder’s restaurant—is alive and well.