“You like that?”
“Uhm…”
“Tell me what you need.”
He wanted to talk? Now?
The air left her lungs when he palmed her butt and rubbed against her. The pleasure made her sob, “Please…”
“Tell me.”
“I need…” Everything. Now. Articulation was beyond her.
Cool air wafted across her pebbled nipples. Anticipation tightened her belly. He lowered his head, nibbled and sucked. Her back bowed. Pleasure shot straight to her core. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, rocking her hips.
Obviously an equal-opportunity lover, he moved to the other nipple. Her head thumped back against the wall, but nothing registered beyond his mouth and his body against hers. His hand slid down her thigh and pulled her leg up over his hip. Happy to accommodate, she tilted her pelvis forward. Mini fireworks exploded behind her closed eyelids.
He released her nipple and blew hot breath across it. “What do you need, baby?”
“Ung…”
The tug of her pants heading south, followed by his rough fingers, fried her synapse. She dropped her feet to the floor. The pants and her panties dropped. The pleasure of his big hands on her bare skin blurred her vision. Her pulse pounded in her head.
“Damn,” he said.
His hands squeezed her bare bottom. Impatient, she tugged at the button of his jeans. She needed him inside her. Now.
His hand pressed over hers, stilling her anxious yanking. The pounding grew louder.
“Marsing! Open the damn door. I know you’re in there.”
Greg dropped his head to the crook of her neck and sighed.
“No,” she moaned, arching into him.
He stroked her skin, sending shivers racing along her nerve endings. “I know, baby.”
His low voice soothed, his touch no longer arousing so much as attempting to ease her back down. Impossible. She had never been so aroused in her life. A vicious twist of cruel fate to be interrupted.
The pounding at the door resumed.
Closing her eyes, she dropped her hands and leaned against the wall. The slide of her pants as he pulled them back up was almost enough to send her flying over the edge.
“What the hell, Marsing?”
“I’m coming,” he growled.
No. Neither one of them would be coming. She opened her eyes. Hands braced on either side of her head, he leaned in until she could make out shots of green in his eyes.
“Hold my place, hot lips.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and the empty ache low in her belly intensified. He stepped back and handed her the oversized sweatshirt.
She held the material over her breasts and frowned. When did he take it off?
Shaken by her lack of control, she yanked the sweatshirt over her head. As she tumbled through the doorway into her temporary bedroom, Greg pulled open the front door. She leaned against the closed door and stared at the big bed.
What could have been swam before her eyes. Her body throbbed. She took a deep breath, determined to shake it off.
She couldn’t become dependent on Greg. The quick release of a tumble in bed would have a steep price. The realization that he desired her shocked her to the tips of her sedate pink toenails.
Still, they were two consenting adults. No reason she couldn’t enjoy what he did for her libido. She should be able to have great sex at least once before settling back into the staid life she’d created.
“Ally, let’s go,” Greg hollered.
Chapter Nine
“Gee, how charming.” She stomped into the attached bath. No way was she going back to town looking like yesterday’s road kill. She had some pride, after all.
Liberal use of a hairbrush, a light covering of powder, a few coats of mascara and some coppery lip gloss later, she at least felt better. Trying to be objective, she examined her reflection.
Objectivity was overrated.
A fist pounded on the bedroom door for the third time. Sighing at her reflection, she left the bathroom and opened the door. She smiled with acidic sweetness at Greg, who sported an odd pinched expression, and ignored the butterflies in her stomach. She refused to delve any further into the man’s psyche while toeing the slippery slope of soul-deep attraction. They’d end up married with five kids in her imagination.
She arched her brow.
Greg cleared his throat. “My sister doesn’t do blue jeans, so…”
He thrust his hand out. A pair of jeans dangled in his grasp. He was loaning her a pair of his pants? Huh. Nonplussed, she met his gaze.
He waved the pants impatiently. “Look, you want ’em or not? I just thought they’d be comfortable.”
“Sure. Thanks.” She snagged them and put her hand on the door, intent on closing it.
“Look, about earlier….” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea to get involved. You’re not a casual sex kinda girl, and I don’t do relationships.”
Her stomach twisted and she pressed her lips together. Who did he think he was, telling her who she was? Her little crush was her problem.
She narrowed her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “What makes you think I’d want a relationship with you? Maybe all I want from you is sex, even if you are a presumptuous jackass.”
Heat flared in his eyes.
She flicked her fingers in the air. “Whatever. Don’t worry about it.”
She shoved the door closed. Or tried.
His palm flattened against the door, his face hardened and he narrowed his eyes. “I just don’t think it’s a great time to start something, okay? We’ve got enough to deal with right now.”
Ally glared. “Gee, I hadn’t noticed.”
“What’s your problem? I’m trying to be considerate.”
“Yeah, you’re a real swell guy. We should all aspire to be so self-sacrificing.” She jerked the door back, then slammed it closed.
Irritation helped her through the motions of dressing and kept her mind off self-flagellation. She tossed the pants on the bed and dug through the contents of the dresser drawers. Skimpy thong panties did not even remotely appeal. Why would a woman volunteer for torture?
Commando it was. She pulled on Greg’s blue jeans, relieved to discover they were a bit too big. If they’d fit, or worse, been tight, she may have seriously contemplated drowning herself. She tugged on a silk T-shirt she’d uncovered in another drawer and glanced in the dresser mirror. She winced. The silk left nothing to the imagination. Every detail of her breasts revealed, nipples clearly outlined by the delicate material.
Perfect. Lips pressed together, she walked into the massive closet and scrutinized the huge assortment of clothes. Ah-ha. She yanked a dark-blue cashmere sweater off a hanger and stuffed her arms into it. Avoiding the mirror, she shoved her feet into the too-small boots again and stomped out of the room.
“Trying to be considerate, my ass,” she muttered.
Greg was in the kitchen, throwing stuff into a small cooler. He glanced her way and froze. Eyes boring into her, he examined her from head to toe. She frowned and tugged the cardigan closed. Or as closed as she could get it. Without a word, he turned away. Slamming the lid shut, he hefted the cooler and strode past her.
“Nice,” she mumbled. “Now he’s going to ignore me. As if this situation weren’t already just oh-so-special.”
And now she was talking to herself.
She followed him out the front door, feeling about as useful as a week-old infant while he stuffed the cooler in the trunk. Swallowing a sigh, she climbed into the car and buckled up. He joined her and turned the key. The engine rumbled to life. The car jolted and lurched over the ruts in the dirt road until it smoothed into blacktop. The silent tension ate at her reserve.
“I already said I didn’t want to get involved either, okay?” Nice, Ally. Blurting things like a high-school sophomore. Real smooth and disinterested. She winced and shrugged lamely. “You’re not my type.”
&nb
sp; “Really?” His voice did the low, rumbly thing again.
She crossed her arms and tried to relax. Her throbbing center didn’t help. She pressed her thighs together, frustrated sexually and emotionally. She couldn’t deal with this right now. Then again, she didn’t think she could ever deal with Greg.
“We’ll be in town in about an hour. That was Lucas banging on the door at the cottage. He’s going to meet us back at his place.”
“Why?”
“He wants to walk you through the last few weeks.”
“We did that last night.”
“No, we talked about your normal routine and this past week. Lucas wants to go further back.”
“Fine.” Just what she wanted to do. Hang out with the personable Lucas.
All these years, she’d thought she had her life figured out. Herself figured out. Everything had been so simple. Her calm, quiet existence suited her. She’d been perfectly happy a few days ago. Well, maybe not happy. Content.
Greg had to go and introduce her to designer clothes, car chases, beating up bad guys, luxury cars and the exclusive, unattainable life of the rich and famous. Not to mention Greg. Ally straightened in the seat, stress bubbling and roiling. She’d never met a guy like him. All bossy and domineering, yet willing to make huge sacrifices for loved ones. Held her while she cried and beat her at Scrabble. If she let herself…
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
“You.” She crossed her arms and scowled. The whole freakin’ mess was all his fault.
“Uhm, what about me?” He tossed her wary glances between maneuvering through the busy streets, as if sensing she wasn’t flattering him. Clever boy.
Knowing it wouldn’t be a pleasant expression, she smiled. “All of the lovely experiences you’ve shared with me, of course. You’ve opened my eyes to the world around me and shown me what I’ve been missing out on. I should thank you. A lot.” If those last few words sounded more like a threat, forced out through gritted teeth…well, some things just couldn’t be helped.
“Oookay. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” She spun in her seat to face him. “I can’t go home, can’t go to work, can’t do anything except follow you around like a stupid dog.” Note to self; shrieking hurt her ears. “And that isn’t even going into your on-again, off-again sex issues.”
“Sex issues?” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. The muscles in his arms bulged. “I don’t have any issues in the bedroom. If you’d keep your act together long enough to actually get there with me, you’d know that.”
Ally’s vision went black as she sucked in a breath. “Of all the…”
“We’re here.”
She snapped her teeth together.
Greg shoved the gearshift into park and she glanced out the window at the middle-class collection of homes. Quiet and peaceful. The simple act of walking up the sidewalk, surrounded by suburban domesticity drained some of her irrational anger.
She blinked at the classic A-frame in front of her. Not for a fraction of a second would she have imagined Lucas Jones living in a place like this. The house was far too…conventional for a man of his intensity.
Greg pressed the doorbell and she crossed her arms. The bells chimed through the house and quieted. He pressed the button again. Nothing. He frowned at her and then his watch.
“Lucas left the cottage thirty minutes before we did. He should be here.”
Turning, he surveyed the street.
She was no expert, but she didn’t see anything weird. The street was quiet, the majority of residents at work. Heck, she should be at work. “What are we going to do?”
Greg’s gaze shifted from the street, to the house, to the street, to the house again. “Wait here. I’m going to check around back.”
Five minutes passed. Ally started to fidget. How long did it take to check around back, anyway? She stared down the street, tapping her foot and chewing on her fingernail. The door behind her creaked open and she spun around, heart racing..
“It’s just me.” Greg held the door open for her.
Very traditional furniture and décor greeted her inside. Like the exterior, not what she expected. “Are you sure this is Lucas’ house?”
Despite his obvious concern, his lips twitched. “Not what you expected from ol’ Lucas, huh?”
“Not exactly.”
He left her to explore the living room. She assumed he was searching the rest of the house. Looking for signs of foul play. Detecting.
There wasn’t a whole lot to look at. Traditional landscapes hung on the walls. There were no nick-knacks out. No candid pictures. She sighed and crossed her arms.
“Nothing.” Greg returned to the living room. “No sign of him anywhere.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, staring hard at the floor, like the answer could be found inscribed in the hardwood.
She chewed on her lip, hesitant to voice the thought going through her head. “You don’t suppose…”
Greg’s gaze flew up, its intensity making her pause and swallow hard.
“You don’t think Lucas could be one of them, do you?”
“Not a chance.”
“It seems kinda suspicious though.” She’d jumped in headfirst. Might as well push. “I mean, we keep getting found. You said you’ve known him for years, so he knows a lot about you. Your habits, your homes.”
Greg shook his head. “No way. The homes my family own aren’t exactly a secret. And my car is distinctive.”
“Okay.” He knew the guy a lot better than she did. To her, everybody was a suspect. Except Greg.
Speaking of…she admired the snug fit of the jeans over his muscular thighs and the stretch of his T-shirt across his shoulders. Desire tightened her belly and she sucked her lower lip between her teeth. She did not want to go there. Especially after the conversation in the car.
She noted the spark in his eyes and dropped her gaze, embarrassed he’d been aware of her perusal.
“So…what now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“You have any bright ideas?”
“Not really my department.” His tension leached into her. She smiled tightly. “You’re the brilliant strategist.”
“You’re still in one piece, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
He’d quickly and efficiently dealt with Boner, Weasel and the two guys from the cottage. She knew he was a hero—her hero, and she appreciated everything about him more than she could say. Stress and fear were making her snippy. She tried hard to swallow her attitude.
She turned away. The window overlooked the peaceful street. A little niggle of envy wormed into her. Lucas’ home was in a great neighborhood. The charm of the area appealed to her on a deep level, much more so than her current residence.
An older model sedan idled down the street. She imagined an elderly, white-haired lady, barely able to peer over the large steering wheel and smiled. As the car drew closer, she noted the dull paint, dark-tinted windows and missing license plate. Her amusement died a brutal death. She meant to whisper his name, but a wordless squeak emerged. Didn’t matter, because Greg was there. Hand hard on her arm, he pulled her down to one side of the large window. The car came to a gentle stop a few feet behind Greg’s Camaro. The doors remained closed.
“Damn it.”
Flash-frozen to the spot, she managed to turn her head. Hunched down beside her, Greg stared at the car through the window.
“They’re not going to stay out there forever. Come on.” He pulled her toward the rear of the house.
“Where are we going?” she whispered, as if the bad guys camouflaged behind the dark car windows might hear.
“Out the back.”
She rolled her eyes. “I figured that.”
He glanced back, a flash of amusement lighting his grim expression. “Lucas keeps a car sta
shed in his garage. We’re going to borrow it.”
Greg opened a kitchen drawer and snagged a set of keys. He went out the back door, finger pressed to his lips and gestured her after him. She followed him to the detached garage.
They slipped through the side door and Ally stopped in her tracks.
“Are you kidding me?”
He grinned. Pulling open the passenger door, he swept a bow. “Your chariot awaits, madam.”
“Funny.” But she climbed in with a smile tugging at her mouth.
He started the car and she laughed. “Seriously? Lucas pulls off this whole badass image, black-leather jacket and all. The whole time, he lives in a sedate suburban neighborhood, in an immaculate 1940s Cape Cod with very conventional, almost stuffy furnishings and drives…this.”
“What have you got against the car?”
He hit the remote control and the garage door rose with the quiet liquidity of well-oiled tracks. Ally’s lips parted in disbelief. Greg drove a hot-rod Camaro, for crying out loud. She wasn’t buying his casual attitude for a second.
“This car is Lucas’ pride and joy. It’s six months old. He’ll skin me alive if I smudge a window.”
“It’s a Taurus, Greg. Give it up.”
The car rolled down the driveway. “Okay, so it’s not exciting, but this Taurus suits our needs.” He applied the brake just before the front bumper nudged out into the open. “Get down.”
“What?” Alarm tightened her muscles. “Why?”
“I don’t want them to see you. If they think it’s just me, or better yet, Lucas, they may not follow.”
She slouched down in the seat.
“More.”
“Oh, for crying out loud.” She slid down onto the floorboards. The tight fit reminded her of every millimeter of extra flesh squishing together beneath the dashboard. “Happy?”
“As a matter of fact…” He grinned at her then assumed a bored expression and allowed the car to roll forward.
The jolt of the car bouncing over the curb slammed her knees into her chest and her head against the dashboard. She gritted her teeth. Being on the run with a very hot cop wasn’t nearly as exciting and romantic as the movies made it seem.
Sweet Deception Page 10