Distinguished Service & Every Move You Make (Uniformly Hot!)

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Distinguished Service & Every Move You Make (Uniformly Hot!) Page 6

by Tori Carrington


  “Yeah,” she said. “Or at least I thought so at the time. The guy I followed here…”

  The chirp of his cell phone didn’t so much as cut her off—he guessed she hadn’t intended to go any further—as it did give him the reprieve he was looking for.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  He took the phone out: Jonathon Reece.

  “I have to take this.”

  “Go ahead. No need to apologize.”

  He got up. “Harrison,” he said simply.

  Upon leaving the Denver hotel earlier, he’d appointed Jon as contact. So he wasn’t surprised now to hear that tomorrow morning’s pre-event route run-through had been moved up a half hour by Norman’s people.

  “See you fifteen minutes before then.”

  “I’ll be there. Oh, and look for the changes you suggested in your email box by day’s end.”

  “Thanks.”

  He disconnected and turned to find Geneva staring off at something he couldn’t see. A result of his question? Her earlier comment? Or something else entirely?

  He couldn’t be sure.

  What he was sure of was he wanted to know more about went on in her mind.

  “Sorry about that,” he apologized again.

  “That’s all right. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” He sat back down next to her. “A friend of mine—Darius? I think you know him from the diner—asked me to take over a security detail for a visiting personality in Denver while I’m here.”

  “Anyone exciting?”

  He told her.

  She made a face. “I was hoping for Taylor Swift.”

  He chuckled and picked up his coffee cup only to find it empty. When had that happened? He glanced at his watch to find the hour later than he thought.

  “Wow.”

  “I know. I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “I never really understood the whole ‘time flies’ thing, but…well, I guess it’s true.” He put his cup back down. “Well, except for the past half hour or so. That part of the night I could have done without.”

  She laughed softly. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s something you need to think about maybe. I mean, if you are still holding even an ounce of love for Janine…well, you owe it to both of you to find out.”

  “And do what?”

  She shrugged slowly. “That’s for you two to decide.” She rubbed her belly, which was flat and unfairly showed no signs of the baby growing within her. “Then again, we all make mistakes. Maybe yours is fixable.”

  He squinted at her, wondering if she was trying to fix him and Janine back up.

  But that didn’t make any sense. Why would she try to do that?

  Either it was the most unselfish thing a woman had ever done…or the dumbest.

  He decided the first one was the case because if anything was clear, it was that Geneva was no dummy.

  “So, you’re saying I should give her another shot, then?” he asked quietly.

  She dropped her gaze and something flittered across her beautiful face.

  That’s what he was looking for. Disappointment.

  She didn’t want him to reconcile with Janine at all. Rather, she was trying to make sure it was not something he wanted.

  And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he didn’t.

  As for what either of them did with that information from there…

  He firmly tugged his thoughts away from that particular trail.

  “I should be going,” he said, getting to his feet. “Dawn comes early and I’ve got to be awake to greet it.”

  “Me, too.”

  She walked with him toward the door. He turned to face her.

  Without her shoes, the top of her head came to his nose.

  Perfect.

  “So,” he asked. “What’s the next step in the dating game, other than that dance you told me about?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe you can stop by the diner tomorrow night, say around dinnertime, if you wanted to?”

  “It would have to be late. I probably won’t be getting back from Denver until after seven or so.”

  “Okay. I’ll hold some pie for you.”

  “Deal.”

  He knew he should be reaching for that door handle, letting himself out, but, dammit, he was having a hard time convincing his feet to move.

  “Thank you again,” he said. “You know, for tonight.”

  “You’re welcome again. And thank you.”

  They both laughed at the sweet ridiculousness of their exchange.

  He took a deep breath. “Okay, I guess this is the part where I leave.”

  “Yes, I guess it is.”

  His gaze fastened on her face. “Can I kiss you good-night?”

  She was clearly amused by his question. “Is that something friends do?”

  “It’s definitely something friends do. You know, on the cheek.”

  “Okay.”

  He took her hands in his, the subtle scent of her perfume surrounding him as he leaned in. But somewhere between his genuine intentions and the actual act, right when he might have brushed his lips against her cheek, he rerouted and hit her full-on on the mouth instead…

  8

  WOW…

  Geneva didn’t quite know how to respond.

  She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t imagined this, what it might be like to experience Mace’s kiss. She’d dreamed about it last night. Thought about it all day. Then each time, she’d told herself to stop because there was no chance it was going to happen.

  Yet here he was…kissing her.

  She stared straight into his open eyes as his lips pressed against hers. The meeting was soft…sweet…unexpected. Then something within her sighed and her eyelids drifted closed, allowing her to fully appreciate the sensations tingling outward from where they touched, however briefly.

  He slowly pulled back and she nearly whimpered, only to feel him press against her again.

  Geneva couldn’t be sure how it happened… One moment they were saying good-night and he was joking about a friendly kiss on the cheek, the next their kiss pole vaulted into wickedly hot territory, with no mats around to cushion the fall.

  Oh, wow. Just…wow.

  He released his hold on her hands and she felt his fingertips on either side of her jaw. She skimmed her hands up the thickness of his forearms, heat unfolding deep in her belly like a long-forgotten love note. His tongue dipped out and she welcomed its wetness in her mouth, inviting him as far as he wanted even as she hesitantly explored his openness.

  Had she ever been kissed like this? She felt breathless and so vividly alive she could barely stand it.

  Then he touched her breast.

  She was pretty sure the gasp she heard was her own. But she wasn’t entirely clear. Somewhere over the past few minutes, she’d stopped being herself. Stopped being aware of anything but the thick pulsing of blood through her veins, the wetness between her thighs, the need for more—much more—building in her belly.

  Yes…

  Mace cupped her breast through the fabric of her bra and dress, seeking for and finding her stiff nipple. She bit her bottom lip briefly and continued kissing him. She was so very sensitive, so very aware of every nuance, every touch, in ways she hadn’t been before.

  He reached for the buttons that ran down the front of her dress and she shivered as his fingertips met with her bare skin. He found her breast again, tunneling underneath until her bra cup gave and her confined flesh popped free.

  His barely audible groan fed the flames flicking over her, but paled by comparison when he ran his tongue over her nipple.

  Geneva moved her hands to his shoulders for support, just
in case her knees decided to give out under his slow, concentrated attention. His lips tugged at her, his tongue teased, his mouth tasted. By the time he moved back up to her mouth, leaving her fully damp and shivering, she was pretty sure she couldn’t remember what her birthday was, never mind her name.

  Then she felt the backs of his fingers against her stomach…

  She sucked in air. She honestly didn’t know if she could stand it anymore without…without…

  His fingers touched the damp curls between her thighs through her panties.

  She nearly passed out from sheer pleasure…

  * * *

  MACE COULD SMELL Geneva’s scent, thick and musky, as fully as her perfume. And it was driving him beyond crazy with need.

  No, he hadn’t planned to kiss her.

  No, he hadn’t anticipated his hand moving to her breasts.

  No, the thought of touching her womanhood hadn’t been part of tonight’s schedule.

  But he’d be damned if he could stop himself.

  Especially since she seemed to want to be touched as much as he wanted to touch her.

  His fingers found the crotch of her panties and he groaned. She was soaked.

  If he needed any more impetus to continue, that was it.

  But as he worked his index finger inside the elastic to run the length of her, he knew a moment of pause.

  He forced himself to drag his mouth from hers and pull his hand away. She made a small sound that nearly sent him straight back in.

  Instead, he drew away to stare into her heavy-lidded eyes. “Is this…okay?”

  “Okay? Yes. Oh, yes…”

  He waited for her to register what he was asking.

  “Oh.” Her cheeks flushed even deeper as comprehension dawned. “Um, yes. I’m a fully functioning female for at least the next six months.”

  He couldn’t help his grin. “Good.”

  He leaned back in and reclaimed her mouth.

  God, she tasted, felt, smelled so good…

  Of course, what he was avoiding was asking himself a very important question: whether or not he should be doing this.

  He groaned inwardly, not wanting to stop. It had been a good long while since he’d wanted someone so intensely.

  The touch of her hand against the front of his slacks chased the air from his lungs. He held it there, waiting, wondering. Her fingers lightly traced the outline of his erection and it was all he could do to keep his hips from bucking forward, seeking more.

  He restlessly turned her, pressing her back against the door and reaching back between her thighs, his need surging to urgent within a blink. Geneva’s return affections intensified his building need as she tucked her fingers into the waist of his slacks.

  So hot, so wet…

  Mace dipped his index finger inside her dripping channel, stroking back and forth before coming to rest at the delicious bit of flesh at the apex. He gave a gentle squeeze…and she made a sound deep in her throat and shuddered in a way that made him think she’d come.

  Sweet heaven, he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself.

  He fingered her opening, then slid his index finger into her. Her tight muscles immediately contracted and she moaned, making his erection even harder.

  If he had any doubt of her having achieved orgasm, he didn’t now. He caressed and stroked her until her shudders began to subside and she melted against him, her beautiful face flushed, her lips trembling, her eyes huge pools of sated bliss.

  He couldn’t remember a time when a woman had been so easy to please. He didn’t know if it was him…or her…or perhaps even them together, but whatever the reason, he decided he liked it.

  Perhaps a little too much.

  He slowly removed his hand from between her legs and kissed her deeply, leisurely tangling his tongue with hers, finding even that simple action almost painfully erotic.

  His cell phone chimed once.

  Geneva smiled at him. He smiled back.

  “I have to get that,” he whispered, kissing her again.

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  He slowly removed his weight from her, making sure she could stand on her own before reaching into his pocket for his phone.

  The text was from Reece: he had emailed him the promised travel routes for tomorrow.

  “Important?”

  He ran his hand over his face, the fog of desire slowly dissipating and reality returning. But not so much that he didn’t register the scent of her on his fingers…or stop to appreciate it.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  He searched her face, looking for what, he couldn’t be sure. Something? Anything? Everything?

  “I’ve got to go,” he said quietly.

  A brief flash of regret crossed her features then she smiled again. “Okay.”

  He lifted his hand and brushed her curls back from her face. She was still flushed, her lips plump and well-kissed, her eyes sleepy and sexy. “See you tomorrow?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.”

  She stepped away from the door and opened it for him, appearing to lean against it for support.

  Damn, but she was beautiful. He’d give anything not to have to leave her.

  “Good night,” he said.

  “Good night.”

  He forced himself to move through the open doorway, then down the hall, and the stairs, every step seeming to take superhuman strength to make until he reached the parking lot and his rental car. Before getting in, he glanced up to find her watching from her living room window. He raised a hand to wave. She waved back.

  Then he climbed in and drove away, trying not to think about her going into her bedroom, stripping down and climbing into bed…alone.

  Oh, boy. If this was what friendship was doing to him, he’d hate to think what would happen if they dated.

  Then again, what passed between them felt absolutely nothing like friendship.

  Oh, boy.

  He lifted his fingers to his nose and breathed deeply.

  Oh, boy, indeed.

  He smiled and switched on the radio…

  9

  GENEVA LAY ON HER SIDE in bed, pressing her hot cheek against her pillowcase, cooling her skin as well as hiding her dorky grin. Which made her feel even sillier still since there was no one around to see it.

  She sighed and rolled onto her back, her entire body seeming to vibrate.

  Oh, how good it had felt to be kissed, touched, to the point where she no longer recognized herself. She liked, no loved, who she’d turned into. And she wanted to get to know her better.

  Wanted to get to know Mace better. A lot better.

  Of course, that was an improbability. But just having those few minutes with him earlier…

  The power of her sigh seemed to bow the windows outward.

  She found herself absently touching her belly in much the same way she had been in recent weeks, yet differently. There was life in her and life all around her. Rainbows bursting with color and light even in the dark of night. Bright passion reminding her she had needs beyond her usual day-to-day grind.

  “Friends. We’re just friends.”

  She grasped the extra pillow on her queen-size bed and hugged it close, breathing in deeply, imagining she could still smell his cologne, still smell him.

  She rolled on to her side again and stared at the clock. It was after midnight. She needed to be up early to work the breakfast shift. Then she needed to finish the Johnson account, follow up on two important quotes and work on a new logo for Ames Green Technology.

  Why did she have the feeling she wasn’t going to be able to sleep?

  And why didn’t she care?

  She moved the pillow to rest between her th
ighs.

  Wow.

  She restlessly licked her lips and then replaced the pillows with her hands.

  Oh, yes. That was much more like it…

  She imagined it was Mace’s hand there still, stroking her, probing her, bringing her pleasure.

  Her cell phone chimed once and her hands froze. Who would be texting her so late?

  She rolled over to retrieve her cell from the nightstand.

  Mace.

  She held the bit of plastic and electronic wizardry against her chest and smiled that dorky smile again before even reading it.

  “Really enjoyed tonight. Sweet dreams…”

  She read and reread his words, taking notice of the ellipsis at the end, as if leading into something else.

  “Stop it,” she ordered herself.

  She accessed the text again and responded.

  “’Night night. Sleep tight.”

  She hesitated, then pressed Send.

  She lay for long moments just holding the phone against her chest, then forced herself to put it back on the nightstand.

  This could be dangerous, a little voice whispered.

  But it would be oh, so worth it…

  * * *

  MACE CHECKED HIS WATCH: one hour until transport.

  The route from Norman’s hotel to the hall where he was scheduled to address a political rally was exactly 1.354 miles, and he was walking it one last time before being picked up and driven to the hotel.

  Having spent a great deal of time in Colorado Springs, he’d always viewed Denver as the city’s older, bolder sister. Buildings were bigger, streets were wider and the citizens more nervy.

  Having spent the majority of his career specializing in counter-terrorism, he knew a view from the street would help him note aspects he wouldn’t otherwise see; side entryways into commercial courtyards, parking garages that couldn’t be blocked, public buildings and private residences he couldn’t hope to cover. He’d walked it the day before; he was walking it again.

  He’d gone over the intelligence the Lazarus team had gathered on possible suspects behind the threats made on General Stan “The Man” Norman’s life. The detail—including sheriff’s deputies and Norman’s private security—all had photos of the nine most likely, with special emphasis on the fact the threat could originate with more than one of them…or none.

 

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