by Odell, Terry
One-handed, he unlocked the door, then kicked it shut behind them. He stopped in the small entryway and ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. “Were you serious about talking?”
She nibbled his fingers. “After.”
Jinx took her hand and led her to the bedroom, to his rumpled, unmade bed. “Um… I could change the sheets.” He quickly added, “Nobody but me has slept in them.”
“Another time.” She fingered his t-shirt. “Buttons would be sexier.”
“Another time,” he said. He pulled the shirt over his head.
She reached for his chest, running her fingers through the hair, splaying her hands over his pecs. “You’ve been working out.”
He lifted her hands to his lips. “Had to do something to fill the time. And you never know when I’ll be running for my life in the Mexican jungle.”
When she pulled away, he cupped her head in his hands. Stared into the deep brown depths of her eyes. “I’m kidding. I’m not a field operative, and I have no intention of ever doing that again. I’m happy with my basement and my computers.” He angled his head and captured her mouth in a kiss.
Jinx told himself to shut up and let his mouth do what it had been longing to do for weeks. He teased her lips apart, savoring her taste, the feel of her mouth against his. The rough edges of her teeth. If a kiss could say he was sorry, this had to be the one. Tentatively, he deepened the kiss, half-fearing she’d back away, decide she’d changed her mind.
Her hands threaded through his hair, pulling him closer until their clothes seemed to create a ten-foot barrier between them. He needed his hands on her skin. He released her face, slipped a hand under the red Galloway House polo. His breath caught at the sensation of warm, smooth skin. And that was just the small of her back. He remembered it all—every inch he’d explored in Mexico. He wanted—needed—to go over every inch again. Here. Now.
Slowly, he inched her toward the bed, never breaking the kiss, barely stopping to breathe. His hand moved upward, found her bra strap, floundered for the clasp. Her hand moved his aside, and, pop, the garment opened and fell away. More skin to touch. Hot. Smooth.
Her hands mimicked his, running along his back. They stood at the edge of his bed for several long moments, caressing and kissing until he thought he might die.
He tugged at the hem of her shirt, mentally agreeing with her earlier statement about buttons, but unable to voice the words. Or care.
He broke the kiss long enough to help her work the shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor along with her bra. And, as long as they were right there, inviting, he dropped his mouth to one gorgeous breast, placing his other hand on her ass—as fine as he remembered it—and drew her closer.
She squirmed, whimpering sounds of pleasure. She snaked her fingers between them, grappled with his belt buckle. Someone ought to invent a seamless clothing removal system. Finding a few operational brain cells, he stepped away. “Let me.”
He toed off his shoes, unbuckled his belt and… carefully… lowered his jeans and shorts over his straining erection, all the while watching as Elle stripped out of her clothes. But she left her panties on. Pink and shiny, trimmed in lace, they sat at her hipbones. Was this a piece of femininity she allowed herself while being a tough cop? Or something new? And why was he even thinking about it? He wanted them off.
Tempted to yank them down her legs, he waited. She’d left them on for a reason, and she was all the more enticing wearing nothing but that scrap of fabric. He pulled down the bedcovers and scooted himself to the center of the bed, lying on his side. “Lie beside me.”
She stretched out against him. Skin to skin. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Sliding his fingers inside her panties, he cupped her very fine ass and pulled her against his aching cock. She shifted, wriggled closer, and he was afraid he’d lose it.
It’s about her, not you. Her, not you. Her. Her. Her.
He suckled one breast, feeling the nipple stiffen at the ministrations of his tongue. Her breathing grew rapid and shallow. Her hips lifted. He worked her panties over her hips, ran a finger over the curls he’d revealed. She gasped.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please.”
He slipped a finger inside her folds. Hot. Wet. Ready. He moved his mouth from her breast, kissing his way down her torso, past her navel, and sought her swollen clit. This was going to be about her. He showed her with his tongue what he planned to do later.
She clawed at the sheets, at his hair, pressing against him, pressing him against her, rocking in rhythm.
When her breath rasped, when her hips bucked, when she made those mewling cries he remembered so well, he worked her harder, longer, refusing to let her go until she pushed him away.
Her skin was flushed, her lips parted. She tunneled her fingers through his hair. He raised his head, elbowed his way to her side. Drew her into his chest. “Damn, I missed you.”
Still panting, she rolled over to face him. “Same goes.” She reached for him, cupping him with one hand, stroking him with the other. She toyed with the bead of moisture at the head of his cock, sliding her finger in agonizing, wonderful circles.
His control was slipping. “Condom,” he rasped.
She continued toying with him. “You know, we were tested regularly on the force. I’m clean. You?”
His brain half-processed what she’d asked. “Yes. SOP after an away mission.” He opened the nightstand drawer, groping for a condom.
She stayed his hand. Nuzzled his neck. Spoke softly, her breath warm against his skin. “When I got back, before I moved up here, I went on the pill.”
It took longer for him to process that tidbit. “You mean—?”
“If you’d rather use one…”
He slammed the drawer shut. Unprotected sex. Safe sex. With Elle. She’d done that for him? He nearly lost it at the thought.
Entering her, moving inside her, feeling her clamp around him, tight, hot, and wet—he’d never felt more at home.
And when she came, he followed her into that kaleidoscope of color, that cacophony of sound.
When they separated, she reached up and stroked his cheek. “Now, I think I’m hungry.”
“Damn. I forgot. There’s chocolate syrup. Brand new, never-been-opened bottle.” Not as significant as going on the pill, but he’d been optimistic, too.
She laughed.
When they’d each had their turn and could breathe normally again, they lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve got a bunch of Harrison Ford DVDs,” he said.
She laughed. “I made Trish watch everything Star Trek with me.”
“You think we can give it a try? You and me?”
“Regular stuff,” she said. “Not just sex.”
“I’m glad you put the just in there.”
They showered, ordered Chinese, and settled onto the couch in front of Jinx’s 52 inch plasma TV. He’d lost—or won—the coin toss and the opening scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark filled the screen. They ate, laughed, talked. And talked. About everything. Jinx couldn’t remember ever talking this much. To a woman. Or enjoying it. Regular stuff.
And when she eventually got up to leave, saying she wasn’t ready for an overnight, he understood. “I’ll be calling you,” he said. “A lot.”
She gave him a sweet, sensuous parting kiss. “I’ll be there.”
And he knew she would.
A Note From the Author
I hope you enjoyed reading this book. One thing readers can do to let an author know they've enjoyed a book is to pass the word along. If you're willing to let your friends know you think they might like the book, or tweet about it, or post it to your social media sites, that would be wonderful. Also, the best way to help readers find authors is to post a brief review. If you have a minute, I'd appreciate it if you'd go to the site where you bought this book, or any review site such as Goodreads, and let others know you liked it.
Thanks!
Terry
Acknowledg
ments
They say writers should write what they know. If I believed that, my books would put even me to sleep. It should be “write what you can learn.” And, I’d like to thank those who have taught me enough about things I might have known nothing about when I undertook this story.
As always, Wally Lind and everyone at crimescenewriters for always being willing to help. To Josh Moulin for his cell phone expertise, and Steve Pemberton for all things tekno. To Ryan Carter for his “flight instruction.” To Tom Fuller for all things combat-related. To Drs. Doug Lyle, Jeffrey Snyder, and C.J. Lyons for medical help. To Chuck Newell for answering my questions about thermal imaging. To Tony Cartledge for giving me Fozzie’s voice, and again to Tom Fuller for helping me out with Spanish. To Lee Lofland for answering any questions, no matter how off the wall they might be.
To my critique partners, Karla Brandenburg and (again) Steve Pemberton, whose critical eyes on the manuscript in progress kept me on track. To my first readers, Karen Cherubino and Dale McDowell for their time and suggestions.
Of course, none of this would have been possible without the constant support of my husband. You’re still the best.
About the Author
Terry Odell began writing by mistake, when her son mentioned a television show and she thought she’d be a good mom and watch it so they’d have common ground for discussions.
Little did she know she would enter the world of writing, first via fanfiction, then through Internet groups, and finally with groups with real, live partners. Her first publications were short stories, but she found more freedom in longer works and began what she thought was a mystery. Her daughters told her it was a romance so she began learning more about the genre and craft. She belongs to both the Romance Writers of America and Mystery Writers of America.
Now a multi-published, award winning author, Terry resides with her husband and their adopted shelter dog in the mountains of Colorado. You can find her online at
Her website - http://terryodell.com
Her blog - http://terryodell.com/terrysplace
Facebook -http://www.facebook.com/AuthorTerryOdell
Twitter - http://twitter.com/authorterryo
Booklover's Bench, where readers are winners
Other Kindle Books by Terry Odell
Finding Sarah (Pine Hills Police 1)
Hidden Fire (Pine Hills Police 2)
Saving Scott (Pine Hills Police 3)
Nowhere to Hide (A Pine Hills Police spinoff)
Finding Fire (Pine Hills Police—short story anthology)
When Danger Calls (Blackthorne, Inc. 1)
Where Danger Hides (Blackthorne, Inc. 2)
Rooted in Danger (Blackthorne, Inc. 3)
Danger in Deer Ridge (Blackthorne, Inc. 4)
What's in a Name?
Deadly Secrets: A Mapleton Mystery, #1
Deadly Bones: A Mapleton Mystery #2