by Kris Calvert
Opening the door for her, she stepped out of the car a vision in red—red dress, nude heels and a strand of pearls around her delicate neck. I’d sent the lipstick red Herve Leger bandage dress to her hotel, but I had no idea she would make it look so damn fine. Clinging to every small curve of her muscular body, I could hardly contain the thoughts in my head, let alone the animal in my pants. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head with only tiny wisps of curls around her neck. She looked like an old world movie star—and tonight she was going to be starring in our show.
Reagan was stunning without her badge and weapon. All girl tonight, I found the need to be gallant rise in my chest. I wanted to be her knight in shining armor, even if she didn’t need me to rescue her.
Without saying a word I went to her, pushing a stray tendril from her shoulder, I held the back of her neck in my hand and pulled her to me, kissing her exposed collarbone before working my way up to her red lips.
“King,” she whispered in counterfeit protest as she glanced at the driver.
Hearing her say my name only spurred me on. I was full of juice from the mission and pent up sexual energy from the last time Reagan had her hands on my body. I couldn’t contain myself.
“You should be thankful this is all I’m doing right now.” I breathed into her ear and kissed her cheek as her skin responded in chills.
Placing my hand in the small of her back, I led her up the steps and into the main foyer. “Tonight I’m doing this properly. Miss Weatherford, welcome to Rose Hill.”
“Thank you Dr. Giles. It’s simply lovely,” she said faking a southern accent that made me smile.
“Not as lovely as you,” I replied. “May I fix you a cocktail?”
I was in serious need of bourbon to take the edge off of my caged emotions and I hoped she would join me. Between the sexually charged banter we’d exchanged while I played with the bra and panties from afar, the mission I’d just fulfilled, and my realization of my true feelings for Reagan, I needed to calm my nerves.
“Sure. What do you suggest?” she asked, lacing her fingers with mine. The simple touch of her hand made my body stand up and take notice. I felt it in my heart—my soul.
“I was going to have a bourbon.”
“Sounds strong.”
I felt one eyebrow rise and the corners of my mouth turn up in conditioned response. I wanted to be strong, I wanted to be forward, I wanted to be everything Reagan ever wanted or fantasized about a man. “It is strong.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know. It might be too much for me. I need to keep my wits about me. We have a lot to talk about.”
I nodded in agreement. “Drinks first,” I said laying out the plans for the evening. “Then a little travel, a little dinner—then we talk about anything you want to talk about.”
Walking her into the front parlor, I escorted her to an overstuffed wingback chair and sat her down. “You’re beautiful,” I confessed.
“It’s just the dress. Thank you for sending it over to me. It was very thoughtful,” she said looking to her lap and her short, but red polished fingernails.
“It’s not the dress. If it were the dress, I would have told you that you look beautiful—which you do—but it’s you. You are beautiful.”
I loved how Reagan blushed when I complimented her—they weren’t wasted words that fell on deaf ears. I’d had plenty of dazzling women in my life, but all of them were acutely aware of their beauty. Reagan genuinely seemed blind to her exquisiteness.
I handed her the glass of bourbon and stroked her cheek. “Did you enjoy your homework lesson?” I asked.
Again she blushed.
“It’s okay to enjoy pleasure, Reagan. Especially if you can share it with someone you lo—ah, truly care about.” I caught my words at the last second and tried to continue as if I’d not just said the L word. Don’t be embarrassed.”
“Fine. Yes. I enjoyed it very much, but it was harder to revel in the experience with my partner across the dinner table from me acting out a scenario as if we were a couple.”
“What?” Pulling my hand from her face. I almost felt violated—as if Win Holloway had intruded on our tryst. I played it off as best I could. “And why did that happen?”
“Bad timing?”
I turned and sat on the couch next to her chair. “Bad timing?”
“Well your note said you’d know if I didn’t do my homework and King, surely you know I’m a straight A student. I wasn’t going to miss an assignment—no matter what.”
“So you were on a date with Win while wearing my panties?”
“I was on assignment. We were pretending to be a couple. That’s all.”
I knew I shouldn’t feel jealous, and yet I did. It was a new sensation for me. I didn’t want anyone near Reagan, let alone with her while we shared private moments. And then I realized this was so much more than a mere moment.
“I think we should be going,” I suggested.
“Going?”
“Yes,” I said taking her hand and asking her to stand. “We’re taking a little trip before dinner.”
“King, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. If you leave Shadeland it’s going to look like you’re running from something.”
“I have nothing to run from.”
“Seriously? You know Joy is dead. There were panties in her mouth, too. I saw the sexcapades room in her condo. None of this looks good, King.”
“And none of it has anything to do with me,” I said taking the bourbon from her hand to set it on the table with mine. Wrapping her arms around my neck, I began to walk her backward, the wall stopping us with a jolt. Moving my hips into her, I lifted Reagan’s arms above her shoulders, trapping her at the wrists against the smooth plaster. “Tonight is about you and me—nothing else.”
I watched Reagan swallow hard and take a deep breath.
“I want you. You have to know that,” I said bringing my voice down. “Do you?”
She nodded.
“You want me too?”
I waited for her answer and stared into her dark brown eyes. “Reagan?”
Again she nodded.
I dipped into her soft décolletage, running my tongue along her collarbone, kissing her, neck to ear. I could feel her tremble under the restraint of my hands against hers. “First dinner,” I breathed into her ear.
Again she nodded and I dropped her hands only to find her bringing them to either side of my face. Staring into my eyes, I couldn’t resist her wet, red lips. Moving to her willing mouth, I grazed my lips across hers and a spontaneous moan escaped. I was at once filled with not only lust for my beautiful Reagan, but longing.
A feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, it was almost a sense of homesickness. The thought of loving Reagan and losing her overcame me. I was filled with fear and passion. Staring into her eyes, I took her in—all of her.
Taking her by the hands, I inhaled deeply as she exhaled, breathing her in. “Breathe me, Reagan.”
She cocked her head slightly. “Show me.”
Placing her hands above her head against the wall once more, we stared into each other’s eyes. “When you breathe with me, I can feel your soul.”
She looked away for a split second and I knew she was unsure.
“Reagan,” I whispered. “Look into my eyes as I’m looking into yours.”
She batted her long lashes twice before bringing her gaze back to me. Together we breathed in and out, our bodies tuning into one another.
She broke her stare and looked at my parted lips and leaned into me for a kiss.
“Not yet.” I spoke the words so softly, they were barely audible. “Look at me. Breathe with me.”
My mouth a whisper from her lips, she exhaled, and I felt my shoulders rise as I filled myself with her energy and inspiration.
In silence we stood, hand to hand, face to face, body to body. Breathing in each other and transcending the physical to capture the spiritual—all without saying a word or k
issing her lips. She shuddered, and I knew she could feel the energy coursing between our bodies. We were beyond turned on. We were connected to each other and the universe. I was falling in love with this woman and the mere thought brought me from my trance.
I kissed her lips, pressing her body into the wall so tight, I thought I might suffocate her.
“Wow,” she sighed, dipping her head into my chest. “I don’t know what to make of that.”
I swallowed hard. Neither did I.
Finally pulling away, I took her hands in mine and turned to walked ahead of her, hoping the giant erection in my jeans wasn’t evident. “We need to go. We’re late.”
“You know, I like that I can do that to you,” she said softly. “Kinda makes up for the other night in the Russian restaurant.”
Busted for my overt physical response, I hurried us both out the front door, where the black Mercedes was waiting. I opened the car door and ushered her inside, quickly walking around the car to join her.
“Let’s go,” I said to the driver.
As we roared down the front lane of Rose Hill, I wrapped my arm around Reagan and kissed her on the forehead. “Now, why don’t you tell me about this Russian restaurant?”
22
REAGAN
When we pulled onto the tarmac I looked to King and shook my head. “We can’t just leave, King. Where are we going? I have to be back tonight. I have a partner I know will be checking up on me.”
“We’ll be back tonight,” he said with a half-smile. “Well…maybe we’ll be back tonight.”
“King,” I whined.
“C’mon, live a little, Agent Weatherford.”
I stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to the Gulfstream jet, refusing to climb. “Live a little? What do you mean? I’m living. What I’m not doing is trusting. You told me not to trust anyone and now you want me to just fly away to God knows where?”
King placed his hands on my shoulders squaring me up to meet him. “Do you honestly believe that I mean you harm? That I would do or say anything to hurt you? You’re all I think about. You,” he said, leaning his forehead into mine. “You and your safety. Your happiness.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe him. I tried not to overthink it and thought of my dad’s advice, follow your gut. So I did.
“Fine. Let’s go. But we come back tonight. No matter what.”
King nodded and waited for me to board the plane.
Taking the seat next to me, he reached across my lap finding the seatbelt to buckle me up before pulling the strap. “I want you to relax. Nothing’s going to happen tonight that you don’t want to happen. Understand?”
I pressed my lips together and nodded. Part of me was completely turned on by his commanding presence—the other part of me wanted to run screaming from the plane and never look back. If I opened up to King I could lose myself and possibly have my heart broken. But just like my dad’s favorite band, Foreigner, I wanna know what love is—and tonight I wanted King to show me.
As soon as we took off, he was moving about the cabin and in the galley popping the cork on champagne. “Is that your go-to plan?” I asked shouting to the front of the cabin.
“What’s that?” he asked, walking and pouring the sparkling liquid that always went straight to my head into the two glasses entwined in his fingers.
“I said, is plying me with champagne your go-to plan?”
He shrugged. “No, I just thought you might want to unwind after your day.”
“I thought that was what the bourbon at Rose Hill was for.”
King shook his head at me and sat the champagne down before hanging his hands low on his hips. “I don’t have a go-to plan, love. I do whatever, whenever the mood strikes me. Maybe you should, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
King walked to me and knelt down beside the sofa, releasing my seatbelt. Uncrossing my legs, he slipped between them and my short dress, sliding me by my hips to the edge of the couch. Pushing my knees apart, I felt a throb deep inside and I couldn’t help but sigh at the revelation. “It means relax, Reagan.”
His voice was deep and calming and although my legs were apart and a handsome man was between them pressing his hips into mine, I took a deep breath and let it all go. I still wanted answers from King—I needed answers from him. I wouldn’t be the first time an agent slept with a suspect to get information—men did it all the time. So what was the difference? I knew the difference was that I cared for King. I didn’t want him to have anything to do with any part of my investigation. I wanted him to be free and clear of any and all suspicious activities. My heart cried one thing, my head another.
I leaned in and kissed King on the lips—hard. It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t even particularly sexy, but it was what I felt. When I pulled away, I took his dark and ruggedly handsome face in my hands and stared into his blue eyes. “The mood struck me,” I said unable to contain my sudden casual attitude and smile.
Pushing me back on the couch, King came up off the floor, laying his body on top of mine as he sucked in a sharp breath that made me gasp with excitement.
Starting at my bottom, he ran his strong hand up the side of my body, stopping to cup my breast, pressing it upward and nearly out the top of the dress he’d picked out for me. Tight against me, the bandage dress left nothing about my body size or shape to the imagination. I knew that was his goal.
Working his way across my cleavage, he kissed my skin, grazing his tongue all the way to my mouth, leaving a trail of wet, hot, chill bumps. Slipping between my lips he swirled inside me and I tasted the champagne on his lips and smelled the musk on his neck. I breathed him in and sighed, only spurring him on.
Running both hands through his thick mane of dark waves, I felt him melt into me as he kissed me harder and ground his hips into mine—the evidence of his growing arousal hard against my thigh. “Oh God, Reagan.” He growled the words above the hum of the jet engine and I felt my body purr in response.
Too entangled in the moment I could only reply, “Umm hmm?”
“Please,” he said between kisses. “Please don’t deny me tonight. I’ll do whatever you want, but please.”
I took his face in my hands, gazing into the eyes of the man who’d captured my heart and unleashed the imprisoned emotions and urges I’d locked away years ago. “I won’t. I pinky swear.”
Holding out his finger, I latched onto it sealing my fate for the rest of the night.
We landed almost as soon as we took off, and as we exited the plane, King finally told me where we were.
“We’re going to my house—on Lake Pontchartrain. It’s just a few miles from here.”
“How many is a few?” I asked as he opened the car door for me.
Settling into his own seat, he started the black Mercedes SUV and we were off. “A few,” he replied taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips. “And believe me, I’m not wasting any time getting there.”
The Louisiana air was thick even though the fall weather had made its way far enough south for the leaves to change. I cracked the window to smell the fresh air.
“Whatcha doin’ over there?” King asked.
“Just enjoying the small town countryside.”
“This is where I come to be alone. It’s not like Rose Hill—at all.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking back at him and dropping my head into the headrest, still drugged from his kisses on the plane.
“The lake house is my ah…man place.”
“Man place?” I couldn’t help but giggle. “Is that anything like man scape?”
“No,” he laughed. “It’s a man cave kinda place. My dad and I spent a lot of time here when he was dying.”
I nodded, suddenly thrown back into the tragedies of my own life. “Cancer?”
“Yes.”
“My mom.”
“I’m sorry.” He gave my hand a knowing love pat. “It’s why I live every day like
it might be my last.”
I wondered how a doctor lived each day like it was his last. Did he make sure all of his charts were signed? I mean really. It wasn’t like he carried a gun around all the time or had to eavesdrop on the Russian mafia while they ate dinner. “How do you accomplish that? Just make sure all your I’s are dotted and your T’s are crossed?”
“Look, I know you think I’m just some small town doctor that takes care of older folks, but I have a life outside of my medical practice.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said with an edge of sarcasm to my voice. “You clearly have a line of women’s lingerie—the kind that buzz and the kind that kill.”
“That’s not fair.” He slowed the car and turned down a long lane. The sun had begun to set and I could see the lake and the house in the distance.
“Why isn’t it fair, King? Two women are dead. Both had your panties shoved in their mouths. Both were mafia style hits. Both had been in your bedroom at some point in their life. I really think you need to explain it to me.”
We traveled the long lane in silence and when King turned off the car, he looked to me. It was the most serious expression I’d ever seen on his face. “I’m not going to lie to you. I’ll tell you anything and everything I can, but I don’t want to put you in danger either.”
I opened the car door before he had a chance to make it to my side, knowing it would anger him.
“Why?” he asked, hurrying to take my hand and shut the door. “Why didn’t you wait for me? You know how I feel about that.”
“I do,” I confessed. “But sometimes it’s important for a woman to state her independence. Especially when the man in her life is treating her like a fragile china doll he doesn’t want to put in harm’s way.”
King gave me a nod. “Duly noted, but may I say how happy it makes me to have you call me the man in your life?”
I realized my words as we climbed the six steps to the front of the lake house. “You’re the only man who’s ever been inside my panties, so to speak, so I’m not sorry I said it.”
“Don’t be.”