Reed hadn’t moved from the bay window, but his body language had changed drastically. Instead of rigid, defensive and loaded for bear, his posture seemed apologetic, shoulders tilted forward, head slightly bowed. “My mother was sick for a long time, all right? I was the only one she had.”
There she went, sticking foot in mouth once again. Pressing a point that wasn’t her business. She was such a jerk. “A long time? How long was she sick?”
He gave a tense shrug.
“As long as you can remember?”
He didn’t answer, didn’t turn. He just stared out the window as if he couldn’t pull his eyes away.
“What was wrong with her?”
“I told you I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not important anyway.”
“It seems pretty important.”
He shook his head. “Not to this case.”
She couldn’t tell him she was interested in more than this case. She didn’t want to admit how interested, even to herself. Reed’s flirting comments might be mere fun and games, smoke screens to prevent her from getting too close, or at the most, just a bid to get in her pants for a little fun. But her interest had moved beyond fun, beyond simple sexual attraction. She was really starting to care about him. Feelings she needed to rein in. “Okay then, let’s bring it back to the case. How does Portia Wexler remind you of your mother?”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as if he was aware of her attempt at an end around. “Portia is a needy woman. She needs the people around her to help her live her life. She strikes me as incredibly brittle.”
Josie nodded. That sounded like the Portia she’d met. And presumably that’s what Reed’s mother had been like, as well. “So she’s dependent on the judge.”
“More than dependent, don’t you think? And I’m sure the judge encourages it. The judge likes to be needed.”
The conversation with Jimmy played through her mind. “Is that what Honey is like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Jimmy seemed to think you should have supported her more. Did she need a lot of support?”
“I guess, yeah.”
The picture of Reed was far from clear, but she was getting an idea of what had made him shy away from responsibility. “Like your mother.”
“We’re not—”
“Talking about your mother, I know. I also know the judge seems to have chosen two women who would need him, Portia and Honey. Women who might become desperate if he didn’t come through for them. Some men like that. Feeling needed. But I know it can be a horrible burden, as well.”
“It wasn’t her fault. Not all of it. She was depressed. She started drinking after my father left.”
“How old were you when he left?”
“I never knew him.”
“Who took care of you?”
“Esme. She took care of my mother, too. Until I was old enough to take over.”
“I’m sorry. You mother shouldn’t have heaped all that on you.”
“She couldn’t help it. She needed help, only…” His gaze drifted back to the window.
“Only what?” Josie prompted.
“I could never help her enough.”
Josie couldn’t find the words. It seemed anything she could say would sound trivial compared to what he’d just admitted. No wonder he’d shied away from others’ expectations. He’d failed to be enough for his mother. Why would he want to put himself out there only to fail now? “Is that why you moved to San Francisco? To get away?”
“My mother died. That’s when I moved.”
“I’m sorry.” It was starting to seem as if those were the only words she could say.
He shook his head. “The last years were hard. She was sick. In pain. When she finally died, well, I could only feel relieved.” He flinched after saying the words.
“That’s understandable.”
“Is it? I wished for her death.” He shook his head again. “That’s not understandable. That’s wrong.”
“Years of failure followed by guilt. What a horrible way to live. I think you did the right thing by moving away.”
He turned his head back to face her, but didn’t meet her eye. “Maybe the right thing for me. But in the end I abandoned Honey. Just like she’d been abandoned all her life. I even knew it at the time. And I did it anyway.”
“It was probably the only thing you could do.”
He gave a soft grunt, as if he wasn’t about to forgive himself so easily.
“You can’t live someone else’s life for them. No one can.”
“That’s nice of you to say. But…”
“But what?”
“But if she was pregnant with my babies, I didn’t just abandon Honey. I did exactly what I cursed my father for all these years.” He reached out and touched the ends of her hair with his fingertips. “When you said it was time for me to be a man, that’s what I thought of. That’s why I’m here. I’m not going to be like him.”
She didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t anything she could say. Not anything that would make things better. But she could comfort him. She could make him feel less alone.
She stepped close to him and laid a hand on his arm. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close.
His lips brushed against her cheek as they hugged, and she buried her face in the soft spot between his shoulder and neck. She breathed in his scent, leather with a hint of musk, so stirring, so male. She moved her lips against his neck in a whisper of a kiss.
He turned his head at her touch. His lips found hers, closed over them, claimed them. His tongue pressed between the seam and thrust into her mouth.
Heat washed over her. Longing. Desire so strong it made her knees falter. She shouldn’t be doing this. It wasn’t smart. It wasn’t good for her. But despite the alarm jangling in the back of her mind, she joined her tongue with his and teased him farther into her mouth. Claiming him just as he’d claimed her. Urging his tongue deep.
She’d hugged him in order to comfort him, but that wasn’t all she wanted. She wanted him. She wanted him to forget Honey, forget everybody. She wanted him to focus only on her. Her mouth, her breasts, that tender spot between her legs. He made her want to throw away caution and responsibility and the act of reason itself and just feel.
She must be out of her mind.
She closed her eyes and urged the kiss deeper, the strokes of her tongue more insistent, more intimate. She should back away. She should get a grip on her feelings, control her desire, but it seemed impossible. She didn’t even know where to start.
His hands moved over her shoulders, down her back. He cupped her buttocks and pulled her tight. His urgency strained against her.
She twined her leg around the outside of his, opening to him, fitting the most sensitive part of her against his hard urgency. She couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t feel him deep enough. She wanted him naked against her. Inside her. She needed to feel him thrust deep before thought and reason returned.
She slipped her hands under his shirt and skimmed her fingers over the light sprinkling of hair and the warm skin underneath. Moving down his sides, her fingertips rested on the waistband of his jeans. She grasped his belt buckle, desperate to pull it free, to remove the layers between them.
“Mmm. I like how you think.” His voice vibrated low in his chest. Still kissing her, he kneaded her buttocks with one hand. The other worked between their bodies. He unfastened her jeans as if it was no effort at all.
She shook her head. “No. You don’t understand.”
He pushed her jeans over her hips and down to her knees. “What’s to understand?” Another pass of his hands and her panties were out of the way as well. Cool air tickled her most intimate place. Reed’s warm hands moved up the back of her thighs and gripped her buttocks once more.
Her thighs moved apart, as if by their own will. She tilted her hips up, pressing against him. The roughness of his jeans made her gas
p deep in her throat. “I’m going regret this. I know I am.”
“You won’t regret it. You might be a little sore by the time I get done with you, but you won’t have any regrets. I promise.” His hands moved again, unbuckling his belt, lowering his zipper, pushing his own jeans and briefs down his legs. When he pressed against her again, his erection was warm and smooth and naked.
What had she gotten herself into? This was supposed to be an innocent hug. A show of friendship. Support. “I’m not the type of person who falls into bed with a man I barely know.”
“Who said anything about a bed?”
Oh, she couldn’t do this. She started to pull back.
Reed held her fast, his erection pressing against her. “Oh, come on. Let loose, Josie. You want me. I know you do. And I sure as hell want you. Throw caution to the wind.” He stroked his hardness against her without slipping inside.
Heat spread over her skin and pooled between her legs. Not just heat. An electric charge as well. Energy she’d never felt before. “I don’t throw caution to the wind. Not without some kind of plan.”
“Maybe it’s time you started.” With each stroke, his length grew slicker, lubricated by her body. The pleasure built until it bordered on intolerable.
Any moment he was going to be inside her. Any moment she would lose all control. Of her body. Of her thoughts. Of her heart. Control she would never be able to regain. “Wait.”
The delicious movement slowed.
“Please, Reed.”
He stopped and pulled back from their kiss. Brows knitting, he searched her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I can’t…” Her protest died in her throat. She couldn’t. She knew that. Yet she wanted this more than anything she’d wanted in a long time.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice gentle and understanding yet with a note of teasing. Flirting. “It can’t happen this way.”
She blew a breath through tense lips. She knew what she wanted. For him to take responsibility. To end this crazy thing between them so she didn’t have to. Because right now, she doubted she had the strength.
“No, if we’re going to do this, I want to see you.”
That wasn’t what she was hoping for, but a thrill of excitement rippled through her body nonetheless.
His fingers moved under her T-shirt and whispered along her skin.
Every nerve fired to life. Her heart thrummed in her chest. She should stop him. She had to stop him. But all she could focus on was the slick heat between her legs and the rasp of rough fingers on her skin.
He slid her shirt up, over her shoulders, over her head. Dropping it on the floor, he moved his hands over the cups of her bra. His fingers teased her nipples; the texture of the silky fabric between them only heightened the sensation.
He moved against her again. Stroking her with his length. Coming so close to penetrating her, to possessing her, she moaned with want she couldn’t let herself feel. His movement grew faster, more insistent.
Heat shuddered through her body with the power of an electric shock. A hum filled her mind. Another ripple seized her muscles. Her legs wobbled. She gripped his shoulders and held on. She couldn’t control her body.
She couldn’t control anything at all.
Chapter Thirteen
Reed was ready to bury himself in Josie, lose himself in her heat, feel her shudders from the inside, when she placed her hands firmly against his shoulders and pushed him away. “Josie?” She couldn’t pull the plug now. He was so close. He had gotten a good feel of her slippery heat and if he didn’t get inside, he was a goner. He wouldn’t be able to calm down, no matter how long he stood under a cold shower.
She leaned in and gave him another one of those kisses he could feel all the way to his groin. Then, sliding her hands down his sides, she knelt in front of him and took him into her mouth.
A groan worked its way up from deep inside him.
She moved up and down his length, sucking him deep with one stroke, then skimming over him with just the tip of her tongue on the next. She peered up his body, meeting his eyes as if drawing something intimate out of him with each pull.
If he thought he was going to explode before, it was nothing compared to now. He cupped a hand around the back of her head, stilling her movement. There was more he wanted. More he wished to explore. “Wait.”
She gave him a questioning gaze.
“Your bra. I want to see you.”
She released him, leaving him pulsing and glistening and desperate for more. Pushing out her chest, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She slid the straps down her arms, and her breasts spilled free.
For a moment he could do nothing but look. Her chest was big and firm, but not in a plastic way. No, her breasts were real. Soft and lush. Her nipples jutted toward him, erect and hard as if begging him to touch. To taste. The length of him flexed in anticipation.
Josie watched him. Her tongue smoothed over her lips. She moved close again. Her tongue flicked up the sensitive underside of his hardness. Her lips closed around him.
He threaded his fingers through her hair. “Stop, Josie. I can’t hold out.”
“Who said I wanted you to hold out?” She moved up and down his shaft.
The pressure in his groin built and built. He wanted more. Wanted it to last. Wanted to kiss her, taste her, plunge inside as deep as he could get. He needed to stop her before it was too late, yet that was the last thing he wanted to do.
She took him in her hand and rubbed him over her breasts, over the hard nipples, until he could take no more. She was in control now, dictating to him what she wanted, deciding what each move should be, bringing about the result she chose. He wasn’t used to a woman being so outward about taking control. Not at all. He didn’t have to guess what she wanted. Didn’t have to try to be everything for her. And that made it all the more exciting. And all the more impossible to resist.
With one last gasp, he gave in. But when the pulsing faded and the roar in his ears subsided, he knew this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning. And next time, Josie Renata Dionne would be squirming under his mouth and crying out under his touch. She would feel everything she made him feel tonight, and that was one area in which he knew he wouldn’t fail.
JOSIE HAD BEEN RIGHT.
She threw back the covers of a bed she’d tossed and turned in for too few hours, levered herself to her feet, and padded to the bathroom, morning sun streaming over her shoulder. From the moment she’d escaped alone to the guest room, despite Reed’s protests, she’d regretted making love with him.
Making love? Not hardly. What they’d done was flat-out, hootchie-cootchie sex. The worst part was, she wanted more. And if that wasn’t proof she was cruising for a heartache, she didn’t know what was.
What had gotten into her?
She knew the answer. Reed. He affected her that way. Made her want to quit planning and just do. Give up control and just feel.
She twisted on the shower and pulled the T-shirt over her head. She’d never felt so desired, so powerful, so in control—even though she knew she hadn’t been in control at all. Hell, just being naked reminded her of Reed, made her want to walk down the hall to his room and experience everything they hadn’t done last night. What would it be like to give herself to him totally? Surrender to her feelings?
She’d have to be crazy.
Sure, there was more to him than she’d first believed. He wasn’t some irresponsible playboy. He had a good heart. She’d seen it. But that only made her want him more. It didn’t dissolve the barriers between them. He wasn’t ready to give her what she wanted—a family. A baby of her own. And she couldn’t let herself settle.
But after last night, she couldn’t help but wonder if she could be happy without him.
“HE LOOKS LIKE A COP.”
Reed leaned down next to Josie and peered out the cracked front bay window. A man slammed the driver’s door and circled a car with rental plates. He wasn’t
wearing a uniform. In fact, to Reed he looked like any other guy. Jeans. A white shirt. But if Josie thought he looked like a cop, who was he to argue? “How do you know?”
“The way he carries himself. His gait says authority.”
He stopped and opened the passenger door, waiting for a woman to climb from the car.
“And see how he stands? His shoulders are square, yet his right leg is slightly back. He’s protecting his gun side. It’s subconscious. He probably isn’t even aware he’s doing it.”
“Why in the hell is a cop here?”
“That I can’t tell you.”
From a blanket spread out in the center of the living room, Troy sent up a loud squawk.
Reed glanced his way. Judging from the increasing urgency and volume of his complaints, he was getting hungry again. And that meant he would only get louder.
He turned back to the window. He was raised to trust the law, but having grown up here in Springton, he knew that wasn’t always the smart course. Especially when you were coming off a fistfight with the son of Judge Teddy Wexler.
“What is it?” Josie asked.
“Can you take Troy into the kitchen? Keep him quiet?”
“You’re worried that they’ve come for the baby?”
“I don’t know. But we can’t take the chance. The judge has more than a few lawmen in these parts who are willing to do his bidding. No matter what that bidding might be.”
Josie’s eyes widened with understanding. With a nod, she picked up the baby and scurried for the kitchen.
His squawk echoed down the hall. The little guy ratcheting up his demands. Josie was good with babies, but Reed doubted even she would be able to keep those little vocal chords silent while she warmed his formula.
He headed for the door. He’d have to keep his law-officer visitors out of the house and pray the baby would respond to Josie’s appeasement. It might be their only hope for keeping the child’s presence from getting back to the judge.
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