“I suppose.” She started fidgeting with the first button on her shirt. Then, grinning, she tilted her head to the side and released it. “You wouldn’t want to turn around, would you?”
“Not on your life.” He propped against the desk. His dick was already as hard as oak.
Shala let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m not used to being watched so closely.”
“How about I start taking off my clothes and let you watch me while I watch you?”
She smiled. “That might help.”
He pulled the rest of his shirt from his jeans and started unbuttoning. He did it slowly for her pleasure, but he never took his eyes off her. She slipped the second button free and then the third. Her red bra and all that sweet cleavage came into view, and he forgot about creating a show. He tore off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans.
Finished, Shala slowly let her top fall away from her shoulders and to the floor. She stood before him in a red bra and red thong panties, and a pair of white sandals. His gaze lowered to her painted toenails, to the little daisies.
“Nice,” he whispered.
He kicked off his shoes, shucked his jeans and underwear. When her gaze lowered to his sex, that took him to another degree of hardness.
One bra strap hung off her shoulder. He ran a finger down it, over the sweet orb the garment contained, but he stopped when he found her nipple pebbled against the fabric. Shala reached back to unhook her bra, but he stopped her.
“Not just yet.”
He moved her to his desk, lifted her slightly, and carefully set her back down. She lay back. He withdrew an inch and stared. Her light blonde hair haloed her head on the dark stained oak, and the red underwear was a splash of hot color on her ivory skin. “Damn,” he whispered, his gaze devouring her. “Now, whenever I sit at this desk I’ll picture you.”
She laughed and ran her hands up his forearms. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked. “I’ve never had desk sex.”
He stared down at her, smiling. “Don’t worry. You could just lie there and that’d be enough.”
He brushed his palms up and down her waist. She caught one of his hands and brought it to her lips. As she slipped one of his fingers inside her mouth, sucking his finger in and then out, his gaze stayed riveted. It was almost more than he could bear.
Slowly, he pulled his hand free and lowered it to trace the triangle of her panties. The sweet moisture there told him of her desire. “I think someone likes desk sex,” he accused.
She chuckled. “I’m not complaining.”
Slipping his finger inside her thong, he brushed her sex from side to side. Her hips rose. Eyes closing, she gave a first little moan.
“I love it when you do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Make that sound.”
He used his free hand to reach back and release her bra. She arched up as he gave a tug, and he withdrew the garment from beneath her. Her breasts shifted, so he leaned down to kiss them. A moment later he had her panties off and had found the condom in his wallet, glad he’d run by his house and replenished his supply.
Pulling her to the edge of the desk, he wrapped her legs around his waist and entered her. He moved slowly at first, easing his weight down upon her, but the pleasure was too intense to hold back. He placed his hand behind her head to pillow it and let his body take control. Her arms came around him. The bumping and grinding increased until at last he heard her sounds of pleasure in his ear. His own orgasm followed instantly. Not unlike last night, there was an emotional impact, too. The only awkward part came when they finished: he couldn’t curl up beside her, and he couldn’t stay bent over her. Pulling away would leave them both cold.
He suddenly realized he couldn’t recall ever being worried about the moments after sex with any other woman. Forcing that thought from his mind, he picked her up and lowered her to the rug and stretched out beside her.
When he realized she hadn’t opened her eyes, he ran a finger over her nose. “You okay?” he asked, his heart still racing.
“Perfect.” She sounded just as breathless. Curled up in his arms, she pressed her cheek to his chest. They stayed like that for several minutes. “Is it always busy like this?’
“What?” he asked.
“I mean here, being chief of police in a small town. So much seemed to be going on here today.”
“It’s been a busy last few days.” He laughed.
“So I did bring trouble with me, huh?”
“It’s not you.” He paused, and after a few minutes, when the silence grew long, he elaborated. “I have to deal with everything the way a big city would—on a much smaller scale, thank God. We’ve had a shooting, break-ins, domestic violence…” He said the last one with a certain amount of loathing. “There’re the traffic violations, too damn many DUIs to contend with.” His mind considered some of the oddest things his job required. “Then on any given day I might be called out to help Miss Gordon find her dog. Once I was called to help Mr. Thompson find his teeth. He was certain his neighbor stole them.”
She laughed. “Did you find them?”
“What? The dog or the teeth?”
“Both,” she said.
“Yeah. I did.” He chuckled. “The dog was in the closet. The teeth in the microwave. And don’t ask me to explain either one.” They stayed there holding on to each other and laughed for a good three or four minutes.
They didn’t talk for the next five minutes. The silence felt right this time. Then he caught her hand, the one with the large bandage covering her palm. “Damn, I was supposed to take you to get the stitches out.”
“Doctor said three or four days. I’m sure tomorrow is fine.” When he brought her palm to his lips, she rose up on her elbow and studied him. “Can I ask you something?”
A nervous tickle hit his gut. “I generally hate questions that start like that, but go ahead.”
“How…how old were you when your parents died?”
See? He knew he’d hate it. He fought the desire to quash this line of questioning and found himself answering. “Ten.”
“And did you come live with Redfoot right afterward?”
“No. I floated from foster home to foster home for about a year and a half.”
She bit down on her lip and placed her hand on his chest. “That must have been terrible.”
It had been. “I did okay.”
Sky realized this might be the best time to set the record straight about his relationship barriers. Maybe she’d understand why he couldn’t offer more. But then his foster brother’s words played in his head like an old song. Whatever you do, Sky, if you care about this Shala woman, don’t let her walk away. You’ll regret it.
He shook his head and said, “You know, the past—mine and probably yours—it can make things hard.”
“Hard?”
“Relationships and things,” he babbled, knowing he was making a mess of this.
“I know,” she said. She reached out and touched his chin. “I’m scared.”
A weight suddenly lifted off his chest, and relief spilled into him. “Me, too! But I figure we can live for the day, enjoy it. Make the most of it. Right?”
She nodded. “I have to go back home sooner or later.”
The weight crashed right back down. “When it’s safe you can leave. Not until then.”
“But whoever was after me or the camera hasn’t tried anything for a couple of days. I’ve seen Lucas and you both looking for him, and he obviously isn’t there. Maybe he’s given up.”
Sky took her chin between his fingers. “Are you nuts? This is the same guy who we think killed someone yesterday!”
She gazed up at him. “I know, but…Lucas and I were talking earlier, and it’s like Phillip said. It appears Charlie hired someone to do all this. Now that Charlie is gone, this guy doesn’t really have a reason to come after me. And Lucas thinks…”
He was going to have to tell Lucas to keep his friggin’ thoughts to h
imself. “I’ve considered that, Shala, and yes, I admit that from what we know it appears as if this is what went down, but there’s still a couple of things that don’t make sense. Charlie lives on a fixed income. I just can’t see him using what little money he had to hire someone to do his dirty work. We’ve looked over his bank account. No money was withdrawn. And everything that’s happened still points to this guy wanting the camera.” When Shala dropped back against his chest, he ran his hand over her naked back. “I know this is hard, Shala, but give me some time to figure it out before you go putting yourself back in danger. Please.”
She rose up on her elbow, smiling. “Wow, you’re not threatening to arrest me this time.”
“No. But I’d probably follow you if you left town.”
She shook her head. “You have a job.”
“I know. That’s why it would be hard.” He touched her face. “Just a little more time.”
She sighed. “Okay, but I need to start working while I’m here.”
“Working?”
“Yeah, talking to the tribal council, meeting with Maria about starting an art program, talking to the mayor about the changes he’ll need to make. If I’m here, I need to work. I can only play so many games of Scrabble before I lose my mind.”
Sky laughed. “I’ll talk to Johnson and we’ll work things out.” For the first time that day, breathing came easier.
Shala looked down at her legs. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex with just my shoes on.”
“I’ll have to get you a pair of leather boots,” he said.
When they were done laughing, Shala sighed again. She ran her hand down his chest and said, “Don’t you think we should probably get going?”
“Going? I thought we’d give the chair a whirl.”
She slapped him playfully. “Come on.”
As Sky dressed, he watched her put on her clothes, and that chair started looking better and better. Whatever you do, Sky, if you care about this Shala woman, don’t let her walk away. You’ll regret it.
“Hey.” He zipped up his jeans and then snagged her shirt from the floor. “When you do leave”—God, that was hard to say—“how often will you have to come back?”
She shrugged and stepped into her jean skirt. “It depends on how many press trips the Chamber can afford. I bring other writers with me, and Precious has to pick up the tab. Some of my clients can afford trips every few months, some every six months.”
Every few months? That wasn’t nearly enough. Would she come down more often if he asked? Considering he was on call 24/7, his leaving for a whole weekend would be hard. But she’d come if what they had was worth coming down for. Was he giving her what she needed right now, making it worth her while? Hell, how could he know for sure? Hadn’t he admitted to himself that she was different from everyone he’d ever dated? More innocent, sweeter…He looked around his office. Had the whole sex-on-the-desk thing been too much? Remembering her hesitation in the beginning, a mess of emotions boiled to the surface. Was he already screwing things up?
“What?” he asked when she held out her hand.
“You have my shirt.”
And I’m afraid you’ve got my heart.
He wasn’t sure where that thought came from, but he refused to let it set in. He handed over her shirt and grabbed his own.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Shala looked up and caught Sky staring as she buttoned her blouse. “What?”
He ran a hand over his face. “You were okay with this, right?”
“Okay with what?”
He motioned to the desk. “What we just did.”
Shala’s insecurities surfaced like a school of hungry piranhas. She hadn’t had sex in so long, and even back when she was having sex, her hubby obviously hadn’t been satisfied. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Wrong? Why would you think…? God, no! I just realized that this was a bit—”
“Wild?” She tossed the word out.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Crazy as it seemed, Sky looked as if he was the insecure one. How cool was that? Real cool. People didn’t feel insecure unless something mattered to them. She obviously mattered to Sky Gomez.
She tilted her head to the side. “It was wild.” She remembered how he’d looked down at her sprawled on his desk, how his eyes had been so filled with desire that she’d gone instantly wet. “And a little crazy.” She couldn’t remember sex ever being so spontaneous. She hesitated, then added, “I loved every moment of it. Are you going to think less of me now?”
He laughed and pulled her to him. “We could still do the chair.”
She rose up on tiptoes and kissed him. At that moment, Shala couldn’t remember ever being happier.
“Redfoot’s not here.” Maria stirred the onion in the pan while she spoke to Sky on the phone. “He called and said he had business to handle. I’m worried.”
“Stop worrying,” Sky replied. “But have him call me when he gets home. Did you see Jessie today?”
“Yes, I was at the hospital most of the afternoon. She’s good. Back to gossiping.”
“Not about me, I hope,” Sky said.
“Nah, but you do know there are pills for that…”
“Great!”
Maria laughed. “Silly rumor. No one will believe it. Anyway, I think she’s going home tomorrow. I’ve got to get a client’s payroll done in the morning, and then I told Sal I’d come over while he got caught up on work.”
“Let me know if I can do anything. Oh, do you want to come over to Lucas’s for steaks?”
“No. I’m cooking Spanish rice and chicken as we speak.” Maria stirred in some peppers.
“Don’t add too much garlic.”
Maria grumbled good-naturedly. “I swear—you can’t stay out of my kitchen, even when you’re on the phone.”
“Sorry, but you always add too much garlic.”
“I like garlic,” she replied.
“I know.” He chuckled, and Maria couldn’t remember him being quite so happy before. “Is Jose there?” he asked.
“No.” She reached for the garlic powder, smiling as she did. “I don’t know where he is, either.” And she needed to see him, needed to do what should have been done two years ago.
“Has Matt visited again?”
Maria heard hesitation in his voice, and she thought she understood. “I’m sorry I hit him at the station.”
“Yeah, about that. I think that instead of…hitting, maybe you should hear the guy out.”
“I have no interest in hearing how his wife doesn’t love him and—”
“What if that’s not what he has to tell you?”
“What are you saying?” She gave the bottle of garlic powder a good shake as another thought suddenly occurred to her. “Why was he even at the station?”
Sky didn’t answer. Instead he said, “Hey, I think my steaks are burning…and I think Shala’s cheating at Scrabble again. I’d better run.”
“Sky…? Damn!” she muttered when he hung up.
“Something wrong?” someone asked. When Maria swung around, she saw Jose in the doorway behind her.
Something? Everything is wrong. “No. Just Sky still trying to tell me how to cook.” She didn’t want to get into a conversation with Jose about Matt right now, especially considering the conversation she needed to have. “Want some coffee?”
“No! No mustard, either.” He grinned.
“Sorry about that.” Adding water to her rice mixture, she put the lid on the pot. Then she turned. “We need to talk.”
He studied her. “Why does your tone remind me of Mom when she found those Playboys under my bed?”
Maria grinned and settled into a chair at the table. Jose sat across from her. When she met his eyes, guilt filled her chest. She should have told him, should have come clean before he left for New York. She should have told him when she lost the baby. Matt should even know. She should have told him about the baby and the possibility of her not
being able to conceive when they started getting—Wait. That didn’t matter anymore. Matt was a married bastard. But she should have called him on his weekends in Dallas. Should have. Should have. Her life was filled with too many should-haves.
She tried to think how to ease into the conversation, but subtlety had never been her strong point, so she decided to dive in headfirst. “When you left for New York I was pregnant.”
His mouth dropped open. “You were…I…We have a child?”
A few tears slipped past her lashes. “No. I lost it.”
It? She’d never known if she carried a girl or a boy. Maria put her fingers over her trembling lips and explained, “I had a tubal pregnancy. They said it wasn’t my fault, but sometimes I think that if I would have dealt with things better, if I would have—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“At first it was pride. I thought that if you didn’t want me, you wouldn’t want the baby. Then you didn’t even call me, and I got angry. About three weeks after you left, I started hurting. They had to operate and…” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. She didn’t have to tell him everything. “I was wrong. I know that now. I’m sorry.”
He buried his face in his hands. She heard the rice bubbling over and went to turn down the heat. The chair shifted behind her, and she thought he planned on leaving. She didn’t blame him. Instead, she felt him move close.
“Why the hell are you apologizing when it’s my fault?” He touched her shoulder. “I should have never left.”
She turned. “No, Jose.” Biting back her tears, she tried to explain. “You had to go. I know that now.”
He shook his head. “I loved you. I think I’m still in love with you. If we could—”
“Don’t say that.” She put a finger over his lips. “Look, I love you, too. I will always love you, but it’s not the right kind of love. When I came here, I wanted so badly to be a part of this family. You were so…hot, and I was so young, and I thought that if we fell in love, then I would really be a part of this family. And I think when Estella died…” She had to think how to say it. “When she died, I was the person who understood you like she did. I think you finally opened yourself up to me because I represented everything you’d lost.”
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