“I appreciate your concern for my health, Reese, but I promise, I really am fine. My cut has a nice scab and has fully closed, and my brain is no longer scrambled. At least no more than it was before I got jumped.”
He smiled against her collarbone, his mouth warm and firm. As his kissed his way across it, he ended up in the hollow of her throat, licking and then nipping at the sensitive skin there.
“Come up here and kiss me, you tasty cookie of a man.”
The heat of his mouth left a trail of devastation in its wake as he kissed his way up to her mouth. Tingles raced down her spine, ending in the vicinity of her toes, which curled in tight delight.
She turned into him and buried her nose in his neck. She couldn’t get enough of his scent, mingled with a clean, citrus aftershave. It was the same delicious, masculine scent that rose off his pillowcases and had comforted her through her worst pain this past week. He smelled like safety to her. Warmth. Sun-drenched beaches and lazy waves rolling ashore and hissing back out to sea.
Her bra straps fell loose as he unhooked it in the back and pushed the narrow straps off her shoulders. She shrugged out of it and tossed it aside, sighing with pleasure as his warm hand cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing lightly across the pebbled nipple.
“Cold?” he murmured.
“Turned on.”
“Yes,” he said under his breath in satisfaction. Then, louder, “You’re perfect.”
“Keep telling me that. Maybe someday I’ll believe you,” she replied a little breathlessly, arching her back into the drugging pleasure of his thumb rolling back and forth across that sensitized peak.
He leaned down and his mouth replaced his thumb, making her gasp aloud as electric shocks radiated through her whole body. She reached for him, sliding his briefs off his hips. He kicked them the rest of the way off. The flat plane of his stomach was irresistible, and she ran her palms across it. She followed the well-defined V of muscles lower to the hard shaft of his erection. It filled her fist as she grasped its burning heat. He was rock hard—no need to ask him if he was turned on or not.
His flesh bucked in her hand as she ran her hand up its length to smooth her thumb over the satin tip. Hah. She’d get him to hurry things along, yet.
“Still determined to take all night getting around to making love to me?” she asked archly.
“Tease,” he muttered against her breast. His free hand slid lower, following the inward curve of her waist and the upward curve of her hip, then plunging down to cup her core.
She felt her pulse pounding through the swollen, hungry flesh there as his fingertips stroked her once, twice.
“You’re not the only one in a hurry,” he murmured.
“Ahh, but I make no secret of wanting you right now.”
“Your wish is my command.”
He pushed lightly against her shoulder and she rolled onto her back, her thighs opening to welcome his explorations. His finger stroked her folds, finding the swollen bud within, so sensitive and slick she nearly came up off the bed when his fingertip rubbed across it.
“Please, Reese. Can we get this show rolling? I’m dying, here.”
He laughed, burying his face against her neck for a moment. “We really are yin and yang.”
“Well, if your yang doesn’t get busy soon, my yin is going to throw you on your back and have its wicked way with you.”
“As fun as that sounds, I want you to take it easy tonight.”
“Easy? I don’t want easy! I want it hot and wild and hard, and that’s just the beginning.” She tightened her hand around his cock, tugging it toward her in open demand.
He groaned in the back of his throat, and rolled away from her. She opened her mouth to protest until she realized he was fishing a condom out of his bed stand.
Finally, blessedly, he rolled over her, lowering his weight carefully between her legs. Impatient, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him down to her. He resisted for a moment, reaching between them to position himself, and then he was pressing forward, a slow, careful glide of slick, hungry flesh coming together.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Better than okay. Amazing.”
He filled her deliciously. He started to withdraw, and her legs tightened convulsively around his hips. He chuckled a little. “I’m not going anywhere.” As promised, he surged forward a little more forcefully this time.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she sighed.
“Honey, you’re a lot of things, but merely nice is not one of them. You’re spectacular.”
She smiled up at his shadowed face and he smiled down at her. “How did I get so lucky to find you?” she asked.
“Maybe I found you. Lord knows, I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
“Really?”
“Swear to God. I was beginning to despair of ever finding the kind of woman I want. But I just couldn’t bring myself to lower my standards.”
She brushed her fingertips along his jaw lightly. “Exactly. And then…you.”
Their smiles mingled in a kiss of wonder and shared joy at the minor miracle of having arrived at this moment with each other. It wasn’t one to be rushed through, but rather savored, treasured and remembered for always.
He began to move within her, and she rose to meet him, catching his rhythm quickly. He kept the pace maddeningly slow, but she had to admit it felt great. Beyond great. Her body had time to build layer upon layer of pleasure toward a towering climax unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
And still he moved within her, stroking her even higher. Huh. Had all of this always been possible and her previous lovers simply been too hasty and too selfish to take her here?
On and on their lovemaking rolled through the night, by turns leisurely and tense, but always tender and intimate. He never looked away from her, never hid the pleasure transforming his features into pure joy. And she smiled back at him, hoping he could see at least a little of the brilliance of her joy.
When she’d had at least three orgasms and was building toward number four, he finally sped up the pace a little. Her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps as pleasure clawed its way through her entire body in search of release.
“Harder,” she gasped.
“Don’t want…to hurt you…”
“My head is fi—in no pain.” She added in desperation, “Please. I want you.”
She gripped him tightly with her legs, urging his hips forward, and wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging on for all she was worth. She tugged his head down for a kiss and sucked his tongue, urging him to plunge it into the dark recesses of her mouth in a matching rhythm to their lovemaking.
He groaned and she felt his entire body tensing. She arched up against him as well, straining with him toward ecstasy.
All at once, her orgasm exploded throughout her being, scattering her in a million directions. She cried out in pleasure and Reese’s entire body shuddered against hers. They rode the wave together, crashing toward a far shore, flinging themselves onto it together, exhausted and sated.
He collapsed against her, but even then, he sagged on his propped up elbows, careful not to crush her.
“Head check?” he panted.
“Whatever’s better than fine.”
He rolled to one side, gently gathering her onto her right side against him.
“You’ve killed me,” he sighed.
“I gather that means we’ve passed the compatibility-in-bed test?”
“There was a test?”
“Well, it was possible that we would have no chemistry at all in this way.”
He laughed a little. “We’ve had chemistry from the first moment we met. It was just extremely flammable chemistry.”
“Explosive,” she agreed.
They lay together in silence, their hearts beating in
unison as the wind whispered through the pines outside and rattled together the branches of the deciduous trees. The peace of the moment was complete. She’d never in her life felt so right with another person. This was exactly where she was meant to be. She grew drowsy and limp against Reese’s equally relaxed body.
He murmured sleepily, “How long until I can reasonably ask you to marry me without creeping you out?”
That jolted her wide awake. “Uhh, I don’t know. Certainly not yet.”
Reese didn’t respond. She waited a moment and then gave him a light poke in the side. He let out a light snore. Had he even been awake when he’d asked the question? She fell back to the pillow, blown away. He was thinking about proposing, was he? Even if only at a semiconscious level?
Wow. Double wow.
She was equal parts thrilled and terrified at the prospect. She’d avoided long-term commitments literally her entire life. Was she ready to commit the rest of her life to one man—to this man?
Did he propose to all the ladies in his sleep immediately after great sex? Or was she special? Worse, did he actually mean it? Or was it merely the random ramble of a dreaming mind?
An urge to slide out from under his arm, creep out of the room and flee the scene roared through her.
CHAPTER 15
Reese woke up lazily, more relaxed than he’d felt in months. It took a second for his brain to kick in and remember why he felt so freaking great this morning. Yvie. Sweet, sexy Yvie. He’d guessed she would be a generous, enthusiastic lover, and she hadn’t disappointed him. In fact, he suspected she’d held back pretty hard last night on account of her head wound. She had an adventurous streak that was sheer self-confidence and enthusiastic enjoyment of sex. He couldn’t wait to make love with her when she was fully healed.
He reached out for her and encountered cold sheets. An empty pillow. He sat upright quickly, alarmed. He swung his feet out of bed and grabbed a pair of jeans, slinging them on fast. Padding through the cold cabin barefoot, he headed for the kitchen and his truck keys. She hadn’t pulled a runner, had she?
He rounded the corner into the kitchen and screeched to a halt. Yvette stood at the stove, turning over strips of bacon frying merrily in a pan. She wore his dress shirt from last night, and her slender, gorgeous legs were bare in all their sexy glory. His man parts stirred with interest.
“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured, stepping up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. “You should have stayed in bed and let me cook breakfast for you.”
“I thought you had a big meeting this morning.”
“Ugh. Work. Yeah, I do. Jordana and I are going to make one more run at Mary Dexter. Surely, she knows something about her husband that she’s not telling us.”
“Past something like knowing he was sleeping around, or current something like where Markus is hiding out?”
“Either. Both.” He snitched a piece of already-fried bacon from the paper covered plate, and Yvette swatted at his hand.
“You like your eggs over hard, right?” she asked as he turned away to pull orange juice out of the refrigerator and get a pot of coffee brewing.
“Good memory.”
“You’re not the only person around here who pays attention to details,” she replied. “Although, I have to admit I was impressed that you knew what my missing purse looked like. It’s not a guy thing to register cute purses.”
He shrugged modestly and set the table efficiently.
“I assume my purse hasn’t been found?” she asked.
“Nope.”
She sighed. “I had to cancel all my credit cards and order new ones. What a pain.”
“It’s better than the alternative. If that was Dexter who attacked you, he’s fully capable of murder.”
“Who else would it be?” she asked, carrying the frying pan over to the table. She lifted his eggs out onto his plate and two sunny-side-up eggs onto hers.
He held her chair for her, seating her with a quick kiss to the side of her neck. “I approve of your attire, Ms. Colton.”
She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes glinting appreciatively. “And I approve of yours. You can come to breakfast with no shirt on any time you like.”
He sat down and reached out. Their fingers touched in sweet reassurance and affection. How was he going to last for hours without touching her again?
Unfortunately, he couldn’t linger over the meal or make love to her before he had to take off for work. He took a quick shower and rolled his eyes when he discovered that Yvette had already showered before him and managed to get every towel in the bathroom soaking wet.
He grabbed a dry towel from the linen closet, totally willing to put up with wet towels if it meant having Yvette Colton in his life. He dressed and stepped out into the living room—and stopped in shock. Yvette was fully dressed and even wearing a coat. She stood expectantly by the back door of the kitchen and had a determined look on her face.
“I’m going to lose my mind if I have to stay home another day. I promise not to work too long, and my car is still at the department. I can drive myself home.”
His stomach dropped like a lead brick, thudding to the vicinity of his feet. “But I want to keep an eye on you until your attacker is caught. I like having you here with me.”
“I like being here, too. But you must be sick of me by now—”
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Of course, I’m not sick of you. If you want to stay at your place, that’s fine. I’ll grab a few things and meet you there tonight.” He added, “If you want me there. I get it if you’d like some time to yourself—”
She interrupted, rushing forward to throw her arms around him. “Of course, I want you with me. I just wasn’t sure you’d want to be seen at my place.”
He threw her a withering look. “We’re in a relationship, now.” He added for emphasis, kissing her between each word, “You. Are. My. Woman.”
“Which makes you my Neanderthal,” she quipped. “I’m nobody’s property.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
She laughed up at him. “I know. But you’d hate it if I didn’t keep you on your toes.”
“Truth.” He followed her out to his garage, shaking his head and smiling privately to himself. That woman was surely going to lead him on a merry chase over the next seventy years or so. He made a mental note to ask Jordana what kind of jewelry Yvette liked. Would she be a traditional diamond engagement ring kind of woman, or would she prefer some other stone? A nice sapphire, perhaps, or maybe an emerald.
They arrived at the police department and parted ways after he gave her a quick warning not to freak out when she saw the shape her lab was in. She promised not to have a fit, they snuck a quick kiss in the stairwell and he hustled off to his interview with Mary Dexter.
The woman was punctual to the second, which didn’t surprise him given how neat a house she kept. Bit of a control freak. Which worked to his and Jordana’s advantage. They’d agreed in advance to play softball with the woman and try to trick her into revealing something rather than coming at her hard. To date, Mary had been exceedingly stubborn when confronted directly for information about her missing spouse.
He poured her a cup of tea with a splash of cream and two lumps of sugar, the same way she’d taken it the last time she’d been here. Instead of taking her into an interrogation room like before, Jordana showed her to his desk and then pulled up a second chair to make a cozy little circle of the three of them. His job was to talk. Jordana would sit back and observe body language. Or more accurately, look for tells of lying.
“Thanks for coming in this morning, Mrs. Dexter,” he said warmly. “I really appreciate it. We wanted to let you know there was a break-in at your house a few nights ago.”
“Was anything stolen?” she asked rather too calmly for
a woman who seemed obsessed with the tidiness of said home.
“We were hoping you could help us with that. Maybe you can go home, take a look around. Check for any missing valuables. The robber did drop one item on his way out.” He pushed a picture of the puzzle box across his desk to show her.
“That old thing?” she said scornfully.
“What is it, if you don’t mind my asking?” he murmured innocently.
“It’s one of those Chinese puzzle boxes with hidden panels. Markus kept it on his desk. Called it his golden parachute.”
“Is there gold on it or in it?” Reese asked, trying to sound as dim-witted as possible.
“I have no idea. I doubt he even knew how to open the thing. It was bulky. Ugly. I kept trying to get him to throw it out and put something tasteful on his desk, but he always laughed at me and refused.”
“Huh. Did it have some sort of special sentimental value to him?” he followed up.
“Not that I know of.” Mary’s voice took on a note of caution.
Dang, she was sharp. Time to shift subjects.
He leaned back casually. “At any rate, I’ve got permission for you to return to your house. We don’t believe your husband is planning to return to it any time soon.”
“My, my. That’s so generous of you,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” he murmured.
His contrite tone seemed to disarm her indignation a bit.
“Also, I wanted to let you know that your husband is now being classed as a missing person.” Missing and wanted for murder, but he conveniently omitted the last bit. “To that end, we’ll be turning our resources in the future to helping you find him. We’re concerned at his continued absence and hope that no foul play has befallen him.”
Myriad emotions flitted across Mary’s face, foremost among them confusion. Interesting. She didn’t know what to make of the downgrade from murder suspect to possible victim.
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