His Wicked Ways. Joanne Rock
feel. Not exactly the thoughts of a detached expert.
Amazing, considering she hadn’t itched to touch a man for four long years.
“I’m sure you have a very skilled touch.” He bent to set his bag on the ground at his feet, oblique muscles tensing against the fabric of his T-shirt as he moved. “By all means, Vanessa. Feel away.”
His open invitation caught her off guard, rattling her when it should have relieved her. But the procedure that had seemed so clinical a few moments ago now took on whole new shades of meaning.
Clearing her throat, she sought for some of the distance that had come so naturally to her for the past five years.
“I prefer to think of it as a search rather than a feel.” Her words sounded just a little bit breathless to her own ears, a stranger’s voice in her head.
His dark eyes, an even deeper brown than her own, fixed on her with searing intensity. “Call it whatever you like, but we need to get it over with before anyone else gets wind of me being here.”
The step he took toward her touched a match to the last shreds of her cool reserve. Heat swamped her, confused her, blurred her pit-bull instincts. She didn’t stand a chance in hell of touching him with dispassionate hands, but how could she back down now after proposing the idea herself?
To do so would show him a weakness she could barely admit to herself, let alone a stranger. And damn it, she wouldn’t bury her head in the sand and pretend that just because she felt some sort of bizarre attraction to Alec didn’t mean that he wouldn’t hurt her. She was a good cop because she knew better.
Swallowing the lump of uncertainty in her throat, she snapped at him. “Well turn around, for crying out loud.” She made a spinning gesture with her finger. “I can’t very well frisk you when you’re glaring at me like that.”
Sighing, he pivoted on the heel of his shoe, facing away from her. “Happy now?”
TENSING, ALEC JUST HOPED she didn’t find out exactly how happy he was feeling at the prospect of her hands all over him. Bad enough he had to entrust some small part of his problems to a cop who could easily betray him the moment she clocked into her next shift. Now he had to sport a major hard-on for her, too?
Add it to the list of frustrations of the day, beginning with her getting the drop on him in front of his whole self-defense class.
He was still fuming—both with anger and with raw sex drive—when he remembered she stood behind him fully armed.
“Wait.” Whirling on her, he half expected to see her standing there with her gun cocked at brain level, ready to dish out his uncle’s retribution.
Instead, he caught her completely by surprise. A scant arm’s length away, she had moved closer, her unarmed hands frozen in midair as she reached for him. A whoosh of relief nearly knocked him off his feet, and even as he thanked God for not taking advantage of his momentary mental lapse, he suddenly comprehended the expression on Vanessa’s face.
Blatant sexual awareness. And even more startling— vulnerability.
“What?” Recovering herself, she fisted her fingers at her side. “You move on me that fast again, Messina, and you’ll be staring down the wrong end of a barrel.”
He could hardly get his brain around the fact that Vanessa had been unsure of herself for even a moment. Is that why she’d hesitated when it came time to frisk him? The heat between them?
“Actually, that’s what precipitated the hasty move. When you didn’t touch me right away, I wondered if you were going for a weapon.”
She let out a pent-up breath, the minty exhalation reminding him how close they were standing. “You’ve been hanging around the wrong people for too long if you think I’d pull a gun on a man who’d willingly put his back to me.”
Indignation laced her words. But she didn’t step away.
“I still wondered if you might be working for my uncle.” He knew she couldn’t be. Not now. Not after that moment of naked emotion he’d seen scrawled across her face. “He’s got plenty of cops on the take.”
Their panting breaths mingled, the mixture of suspicions and fears they’d been dancing around all evening coming to a head.
“Not this one.” She met his gaze with boldness, the truth of her words—even her own pride in them—perfectly evident.
“I was going to ask you to put the gun aside while you frisked me.” He nudged his way deeper into her personal space, closing the distance between them to just a few inches.
“Still don’t trust me?” Her throaty purr wrapped around him like sex in stereo, an auditory act of foreplay.
“Actually, I do. But now that I’m toying with the idea of touching you, I think maybe you’d feel more at ease if I didn’t have access to your firearm, either.” When he put his hands on her again, he didn’t want her to worry he was making a play for the piece. And how warped was that for a concern of intimacy? What happened to the old days when a first kiss meant you might knock braces? Now you needed to be sure all parties put their ammo aside.
“That’s okay.” Nose to nose, she gave him a smile of mocking indulgence. “We already know I can kick your ass if I need to, sport. With or without the gun.”
That took the damn cake.
He reached a hand up to her neck and curled his fingers under the collar of her jacket. “If you think you can wound my ego while you’re breathing so heavy I can hear it, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“And if you think you can wound any other part of me by getting into my pants, you’re going to walk away very disappointed.” She parted her lips just enough to flash him a hint of bared teeth. “I’m unbreakable as far as you’re concerned.”
He wondered if she’d ever lost control in bed and sank those perfect white teeth of hers into some unsuspecting man’s shoulder.
“I’ll consider myself warned.” Not that it would stop him from touching her more. Not now. “For the record, I don’t give a damn if you’re unbreakable. I just want to see you unravel.”
Her skin burned against his palm, her lips glistening with damp heat. He would get her out of here, away from his compromised hideout, just as soon as he claimed one small taste of her.
Diving down those last few inches, he sealed his mouth to hers. Locked her torso against his with both arms until the scent of soft roses and sexy-as-hell woman drifted up from her skin. The mint flavor of her lips did little to cool the simmering of blood through his veins.
A sudden need to feel every inch of her pressed close consumed him, sending his hands on a roving quest up and down her body to draw her nearer. He nudged her shoulder blade with his palm and felt her breasts flatten against his ribs. He dipped down into the notch of her waist and found her abs tightening along his groin. Her body responded easily, her limbs toned and taut beneath the linen jacket he flicked off her shoulders.
Her muffled cry echoed through the rafters and reverberated in his ears. She arched fully against him, extending up on her toes to align their bodies more evenly. Skimming herself up his rigid erection with mouthwatering effect.
He moved his hands lower, savoring the feel of her, but she dodged his touch before he could reach her lower spine. He’d ask her about that in a minute—knew damn well she was hiding something. Right now he settled for cupping her sweetly rounded ass with both hands, drawing her up even higher as he plunged his tongue deeper in her mouth. Taking more than just a taste, he plundered all he could, just like the thief she thought him. In this much, at least, she could be right. He’d steal every sighing breath, every moaning cry and every shiver of excitement she couldn’t hide from him now that he had her wrapped in his arms.
Tilting her head to one side, she gave him deeper access, more room to savor the slick wintergreen warmth of her mouth.