by Joanne Rock
A mental picture ensued that was so vivid she didn’t think she’d ever get it out of her head. What would it be like to be subject to Warren’s every whim? What dark desires did this complicated man hide from her now that he might play out if she was bound to his bed? Shivers chased each other up her spine and back down again, lingering low on her hips to ignite an ache between her thighs.
“Oh.” Her heart pounded a fervent answer to his suggestions and she wondered how many women he’d tied to his bed in the past. “I thought you were trying to…um…put some distance between us. You know, separate rooms and everything.”
“I was trying not to make you feel like I was moving too fast. I wouldn’t want to assume that—hell. I just didn’t want to make assumptions.”
She wasn’t sure that he admitted the whole truth on that score. But maybe that was as much of the truth as he could handle right now with the way things had escalated between them. Besides, she refused to overthink this when he was finally getting close to her.
“Then I’ll keep the whipped cream offer in mind. Remember the kiss is only my first wish.” She wanted him to keep that in mind.
Her mouth watered for him as she mentally undressed him. She wanted to trace every muscle in his powerful body, memorize the texture of his hot skin over solid muscle.
“Good.” His thick fingers nudged one bra strap off her shoulder, the silky fabric teasing her skin and making her ultra-aware of that tiny patch of flesh he’d bared. “Then be thinking about your next wish while I grant this first one. And let me say that I’ll consider the kiss a failure if it doesn’t inspire something infinitely racier.”
His eyes glittered blue and dangerous in the lamplight, as if daring her to dream up the best possible ways to put his rock-hard body to work.
She meant to nod. To say okay. To show her agreement somehow, but she seemed mesmerized by the chemistry firing between them as he leaned closer. Closer.
Covering her lips with his, he tasted her with the easy confidence of a man who knew his way around a kiss. She savored the way their mouths merged and melded, the heat intensifying with each stroke of his tongue as he teased his way inside. He tipped her head back to improve his angle, or perhaps just to exert more control over the kiss. She gladly allowed him to steer her whole body backward across the kitchen until she felt the refrigerator at her back. The soft thunk of her butt into the appliance was eased by the feel of Warren’s body pressing into hers, his hips dominating hers as he kissed harder, deeper.
Her knees wobbled, leaving her with no choice but to wrap her arms around his neck and hold on tight. Somehow he’d unbuttoned her blouse to clear his path to her breasts and he fingered a taut nipple through the thin layer of silk and Lycra that made up her camisole bra.
Her fingers practically pawed at him as she explored the bristly hair at the base of his scalp. The thick cords of his neck hinted at a strength she wanted to experience firsthand tonight.
Her shirt slid halfway down her shoulders as he cupped a breast in his palm, lifting her out of the bra cup to gain full access. He tweaked the crest between his thumb and forefinger at the same time he nipped her lower lip between his teeth and she practically convulsed with the sharp contraction of her feminine muscles.
She arched one leg high alongside his, her knee parallel to his waist in a gesture that opened her to his erection straining the fabric of his trousers. The coarse wool tickled her through her panties but the hard strength of him underneath the material made the slight discomfort delightfully worthwhile.
He hauled up her skirt with one hand and tossed the extra fabric over his arm to keep it out of the way. A slight draft hit her bare legs, reminding her that she exposed everything to him and they hadn’t even left the kitchen. The refrigerator hummed a gentle rhythm at her back, the rumble of the old appliance providing a small thrill.
And still his kiss went on. She clutched at his shirt, needing to feel more of him and not knowing how to ask. She’d have to break the kiss if she wanted to request any more wishes, and she couldn’t begin to scavenge the kind of resources she’d need to end the best lip-lock of her life. She’d wanted to be kissed as though he couldn’t get enough of her and oh, man, he was doing an amazing, toe-curling job with that.
Taking the matter of his clothes into her own hands, she pulled fabric and bunched material until she had his shirt mostly off and his zipper at half-mast. He stopped her then, pausing the kiss just long enough to tug his wallet from his pocket and hand it to her.
“Condom. Front and center.”
It took her a moment to process the words while he bent to kiss his way down her neck and into the V of her cleavage. Her camisole acted like a push-up bra with her breasts spilling out over the top of it, putting the mounds within easy tasting distance. He circled one nipple with his tongue while she dug through the wallet and past his twenties to find a foil packet.
Jackpot.
The wallet fell to the floor along with a strip of foil she tore off in order to free the condom. Her heart hammered in her chest, but not from nervousness about whether she’d reach her orgasm at the right time. No, her erratic pulse was strictly the result of smoldering hunger for Warren and for all the things he could do to her.
He released her breast to look her in the eye for one blistering hot second, his gaze raking over her with an intensity that hadn’t been there earlier. For a moment she saw his nobler impulses stripped and the emotion remaining was something frightening and thrilling at the same time.
Her hands shook as she unzipped his pants the rest of the way and freed him from the confines of his boxers. His cock was smooth and hot to the touch and she eased the condom over him with some difficulty since the head of him bobbed and strained closer to her thighs. When she had him fully sheathed he yanked her panties off her hips with the same ease she ripped price tags off new clothes. One tug and her panties were on the kitchen floor, baring her slick heat to his questing fingers.
He kissed her then, covering her lips with his the way she wanted him to cover the rest of her. She teased his outer thigh with a shift of her leg against his and he answered by lifting her leg higher, making her very aware of her vulnerability to him. He could have her any way he wanted to and the knowledge sent a fresh twinge between her legs.
She wanted him so badly she writhed against him, desperate for the feel of his cock against her swollen labia. He trapped her hands in his against the refrigerator, holding her perfectly still as he kissed her and only then did he allow the tip of him to brush her clit. That small contact incited a strangled cry in her throat, a mewling yelp that bore no resemblance to her speaking voice.
If her hands had been free she would have helped guide him inside her, but instead he kissed and teased her, tormenting them both with glancing touches that built anticipation to a perilous level. Tabitha’s whole body trembled by now, her every breath and every shuddering sigh focused on the exquisite pleasure of almost-touches that never gave her the full measure of man she wanted.
The scent of skin and sex and espresso permeated the kitchen while the sounds of their breathing seemed magnified in the quiet house. She longed and wanted, hungered and cried out for him, until finally he released her hands to take hold of her legs. He fit them both around his waist, holding her up with his strength and the leverage of the fridge. Her widespread thighs splayed her sex to his erection for a pulse-pounding moment before he positioned himself to enter her. Uncaring of her position, she tilted her hips to receive him, trusting him to hang on to her even if she didn’t make it easy.
And oh, baby, was her trust well-placed. Warren twisted and angled and bent his body around hers to fine-tune the thrust.
He cupped her butt cheeks in his hands, shifting his position while he held her steady. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her body curving and softening to accommodate his hard angles and masculine strength.
Tension built inside her, the slow windup to a climax still taking her by
surprise even if he had delivered that same powerful jolt to her body the night before. How did Warren know her so much better than she knew herself? How could he have predicted what things would turn her on to that degree when she didn’t have any idea she wanted to be taken hard and fast against a refrigerator?
Just the thought of what they were doing, of how wildly abandoned she must look right now, was enough to push her to the final level of sexual frenzy. She clawed at his shoulders, needing to anchor herself before the bottom fell out of her world. Finding some purchase in the ripple of muscle along his biceps, she held on to him while her back arched helplessly as the tide of sensations swept through her, pounding her body like the waves of an incoming tide.
Warren’s body froze the next moment, a stony paralyzed second as he found his fulfillment. She didn’t know how long the moment lasted for him, but her reward went on and on. She screamed so loud the dog barked at the door outside, but she couldn’t even call a soothing cry to the poor animal since her release had robbed her of all ability to speak, think or move for the next two minutes. She only managed to breathe in and breathe out, the rhythmic motion eventually forcing her heart rate to slow.
When awareness returned she peeled herself off the refrigerator while Warren straightened his clothes and gently pulled her bra straps back into place on her shoulders. The tender gesture caught her by surprise coming from a man who didn’t want any kind of deeper relationship. Was she being a wishful female to read into that gesture?
While she saw so much strength of character and flat-out honor in Warren, that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to wade into emotional terrain with her.
That meant she needed to stick to their original bargain. No strings. She’d walk away from their incredible encounter now if it killed her. She wouldn’t let him think she was waiting for any heartfelt declarations or impassioned offer to spend the night in his bed.
“You sure know how to fulfill a woman’s expectations.” She hoped her smile came across as flirtatious. “That was one kiss I won’t forget.”
Smoothing her skirt, she stuffed her torn panties in her pocket and then buttoned two buttons on her blouse, just enough to make her feel a little less exposed. God knew the sex against the refrigerator was making her feel plenty vulnerable already.
“I meant to ask you what else you wanted—” he started, but she didn’t think she could remain her cool distance if he went there so she spoke over top of him.
“I think you must have telepathically intuited my other wishes because you don’t hear me wanting for anything more.” Except maybe to be wrapped in his arms right now.
Had he been this closed-off with his wife? she wondered. Tabitha couldn’t help a moment of empathy with the woman now that she’d seen how it felt to make love to him and still feel like she hardly knew him.
“Tabitha—” He hesitated, his gaze dark and troubled. But he must have changed his mind about whatever he would have said because he settled for sliding his arm around her instead. “Let me walk you upstairs.”
She nodded tightly, afraid to say much or her wound-up emotions might spill out through her words. They walked up the stairs in silence, pausing only to let Buster inside for the night. Warren seemed to be heading for her room and a moment of panic seized her. Maybe Warren had a point about keeping separate rooms to give them a corner to retreat to at the end of the day, at least until they figured out where this relationship was headed.
By the time they reached her room, she took the coward’s way out and, after kissing him on the cheek, sprinted through her door with a falsely cheery good night.
* * *
HE WAS AN ASS.
Warren wiped his gritty eyes as he shifted his gaze from his laptop to the rising sun outside his bedroom window. He’d come to that same inescapable conclusion the night before when Tabitha had all but run screaming from him in a painfully obvious attempt to assure him she didn’t need a lot of TLC with sex and that she could keep it light and casual between them. But he’d spent hours ignoring the conclusion since he didn’t like the picture that painted of him or the position he’d put Tabitha in because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
He never tired of watching the sunrise creep up over the Hudson, having removed the blinds in this room because he liked seeing each dawn firsthand, a perpetual reminder that no matter how crappy the day before had been, each day gave him a new shot at getting it right. He hated to think how many days of his life he’d spent pinning hopes on a stupid sunrise instead of taking steps to fix the biggest problem he faced most days.
Him.
He slapped his hand on the small writing desk, making his papers jump. Now wasn’t a good time to get down on himself about his lack of relationship skills, since Tabitha was in danger and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Better that she be pissed off at him than dead.
Needing some fresh air to clear his head after hardly sleeping the night before, Warren opened the door to the sleep porch. Too late he discovered the spot was already taken. Tabitha stood on the far side, her back to him as she lifted something steamy to her lips. The steam curled around her cheek as she turned to look at him, her hair still damp from her morning shower, the red glow dimmed now that it was wet.
“Morning.” She recovered faster than him, her voice throaty with sleep.
There was an intimacy in knowing he’d been the last one she’d spoken to the night before and he was the first person she’d talked to that morning. The distinction reminded he should have been more worthy of it. He hadn’t even had the guts to share a pillow with her.
Of course she’d made tracks mighty damn fast away from him. What was up with that? He should have followed her, held her, reassured her. She’d revealed some heady stuff about herself and her past battles with body image and the eating disorder. What if he’d made it worse?
“Morning. Did you get much sleep, beautiful?” The espressos—or guilt—had kept him up most of the night.
“It was the best I’ve slept in a while. Must be the mountain air.” She stood bundled in a pink winter jacket with a brown collar, but a long nightgown was visible beneath the hem. The pink-and-white cotton grazed a pair of brown suede slippers. Her damp hair was even longer than usual with the weight of the water pulling the waves straight.
She bore little resemblance to the woman he’d met that first night in a sexy negligee that was practically see-through. Had she brought the heavier night clothes on this trip to ward him off? Or was the choice a more practical nod to their destination in the mountains? God knew he was no less attracted to her. She could be sporting a snowsuit and he’d still be turned on.
“Your hair will freeze if you stay out here much longer.” He would have liked to have said something warmer. Kinder. He didn’t know why such dumb-ass remarks slipped out of his mouth, but he’d never been much of a ladies’ man. Too many years shut up in a police precinct with nothing to play with but bullets.
“I’ll go in soon.” She sipped her coffee while he watched her lips cup the rim of the mug.
He wanted her again already, no matter that he didn’t deserve her.
“Are you leaving for work?” She checked her watch before turning her attention back out the screen to the yard below.
“I hadn’t really thought about it.” Actually, he had. And he’d decided he had enough personal days to stay with her until the threat had passed.
But now he’d experienced how tough it would be for them to be alone together for days and keep their lives getting any more tangled up than they already were.
“I’ll be fine here.” She passed her mug to him in a silent offer of caffeine. “I read a little about stalkers online last night while you were securing the house and it suggested that leaving town was one of the safest strategies for dealing with this, just like you told me. We’re a long way from Manhattan here.”
He accepted the mug, tormenting himself with thoughts of placing his mouth exactly where h
ers had been on the ceramic rim. He didn’t. But he wanted to.
Without question he knew he could talk her into a quickie or maybe even a shared shower, but the more time he spent with her—even if only in the physical sense—the more he found himself thinking about her. Wanting her. How could he protect her to the best of his ability if he was making plans for how to get her naked next time?
“Maybe it would help if I could contribute some time to the case.” He would swear on his life they weren’t tailed the day before. And he wanted to follow up on some of the names she’d given him for Manny’s business associates. “As long as you don’t use your cell phone at all and you don’t use any sort of credit card or ATM card, there’s no way this guy could find you.”
“I wouldn’t even leave the house.” She squeezed sections of her hair in a strange gesture that he thought might be intended to break any ice forming on the strands, but as she worked her way around her head he realized she’d been curling it somehow, since the strands started to spring into waves.
“I could leave Buster. And there is an alarm.” The house had far better security than her apartment in the city and, as she pointed out, they’d followed the safest protocol for this type of situation. Probably to the point of overkill, but that need to protect her above and beyond the call of duty wasn’t something Warren was prepared to examine.
Hell, he could barely acknowledge it without second-guessing the way he conducted this case.
“I would feel guilty if you didn’t go.” For a woman who went wild for him last night against the fridge, she damn sure couldn’t wait to get rid of him today. “I feel bad enough taking you away from your work and mooching off your generosity to let me stay here.”
“No. We both know I twisted your arm to leave the city.” And she’d accommodated him against her wishes. Then he’d proceeded to make the situation worse by sleeping with her even though he knew things were getting too serious.
He felt it. She had to feel it. Yet he had no intention of ponying up the level of emotional commitment she deserved.