Forever Blue. Suzanne Brockmann
high. “It’ll hurt, but I’m damned if I’m not going to play.”
She had played, and sure enough, that year she’d won the coveted Most Valuable Player award for the junior-varsity team. She’d had one hell of a stubborn streak back then, and from the way she was holding her head at that same challenging angle, it seemed that she still had those same guts and grit now. Inside, she wasn’t that different. It was the outer packaging that had changed some. A whole lot of some.
Blue let his gaze travel over Lucy’s formfitting black dress and down her long, nylon-clad legs. “I guess what I really meant,” he said, gazing back into her eyes, “was that I can’t believe you’re unattached. I can’t believe you could walk into this place alone, looking the way you do.”
“But I’m not alone,” she said softly. “I’m with you.”
Desire knifed sharply through Blue, and despite all his best intentions, he knew there was no way he could send Lucy home. Not unless he went, too.
But maybe he could go. In half an hour or so he could make his excuses to Gerry and Jenny Lee and bow out before dinner was served. Until then, he and Lucy could stay out here on the patio. No one would see them. No one would have to know.
Lucy held Blue’s gaze, wondering almost desperately what he was thinking. And he was thinking. He was planning, deciding. There was more than desire in his eyes—although there was plenty of that, too. She’d have to tell Sarah, she thought almost inanely, that her little black dress was a raging success.
“May I have this dance?” Blue finally said, his smooth Southern drawl like black velvet in the darkness.
Oh, yes. But… “Right here?” Lucy asked, breaking free from the magnetic hold of his eyes to glance around the deserted patio.
Blue smiled crookedly, just a slight lifting of one side of his mouth. “Yeah,” he said. He hooked the rim of his hat over one of the posts of the cast-iron railing. And then he reached for her.
Inside the country club, the band was playing an old, slow, familiar tune. The music seemed to drift in the stillness of the night, distant and haunting and pure.
Lucy slipped her right hand into Blue’s, resting her other hand on the solidness of his shoulder. She felt his arm encircle her waist, felt the warmth of his hand on her back.
Dear God, she was slow-dancing with Blue McCoy.
He was graceful and surefooted, and when his thigh brushed hers, she knew it was not by accident. Slowly and so surely he pulled her in, closer to him, until her breasts touched his broad chest, until their legs touched continuously. His hand moved upward, exploring the back of her dress, finding the round keyhole of exposed skin.
Lucy felt herself sigh, felt herself tighten her hold on Blue as his slightly work-roughened fingers caressed her back. Gently she pulled her fingers free from his and ran her hand up his arm and shoulders to meet her other hand at the back of his neck.
She could see satisfaction in the ocean-colored depths of Blue’s eyes. He knew as well as she did that she was probably going to end up in his bed tonight. It was clear that pleased him. It was also clear that he desired her, too—she couldn’t help but be aware of that from the way their bodies were molded together.
Any moment now, he was going to kiss her. Any moment now, he was going to lean forward and touch his lips to hers and they were both going to explode with passion. She could imagine them making a beeline for Blue’s motel room, undressing each other as they climbed into the cab of her truck, barely making it inside before…
Lucy felt dizzy. This was moving much too quickly. Yes, she wanted to make love to this man. She’d come here tonight knowing that the clothes she was wearing sent a message, knowing that her mere presence was a loud and clear affirmative to Blue’s unspoken sexual question. But she’d imagined them having dinner first—shoot, at least having a drink and a certain amount of conversation—before giving in to the animal attraction that flashed between them.
But polite conversation and small talk had no place in this relationship. Her body understood that, heat flooding her, readying her for what she really wanted—the most basic and intimate of acts.
Lucy didn’t wait for Blue to kiss her. Pulling his mouth down to hers, she kissed him.
She felt more than heard his surprised laughter—laughter that lasted only a fraction of a second before he angled his head and returned her kiss with an urgency that took her breath away.
He pulled her with him deeper into the darkness of the shadows. His hands explored her body, covering her breasts, slipping down to cup her derriere, reaching for the edge of her dress and sliding up underneath the hem, pushing her miniskirt up along her nylon-smooth thigh. He discovered the edge of her thigh-high stockings and groaned, kissing her harder, deeper, as his fingers caressed the soft smoothness of her skin, as he found the silky lace of her panties.
They weren’t even going to make it back to his hotel room. The thought flashed crazily through Lucy’s head. But they had to. There were laws against making love in public. For God’s sake, she was a police officer. She couldn’t do this. Not here.
Lucy pulled back slightly. “Blue…”
“Come back to my room with me.” His velvet voice was rough, hoarse, and out of breath.
She nodded. “Yes.”
Blue kissed her again and she clung to him, shutting her eyes tightly against the regrets that were sure to come in the morning and all the rest of her tomorrows. But for the first time in her life, Lucy refused to think beyond the here and now. She lost herself again in his kiss.
He tasted the way she’d always imagined he would—sweet and clean and wonderful.
He broke away from her, taking her hand and pulling her toward the gate. “Come on.”
“We’re just going to leave?”
His eyes were blazing hot in the dim glow from the Japanese lanterns. “You bet.”
“But…”
“Come on, Yankee. Let’s go make all my dreams come true.” His voice was low, vibrating with his desire as he tugged on her hand.
“Your brother will look for you.” His brother and a hundred or so odd guests. “He’ll wonder where you went.”
“If Gerry caught sight of you walking into that country club, he’ll know exactly where I went.”
Lucy blushed. “I’m serious,” she said, pulling her hand free from his grasp. “You know how small-town gossip can be. Everyone is going to think that you left because you couldn’t stand watching Gerry with Jenny Lee.”
“Me and Jenny Lee,” Blue said, shaking his head. “That’s ancient history.”
Lucy could almost believe him. Almost. “That’s not the way it’s going to look,” she said quietly. “No one is going to know that you left with me—no one has even seen us together.”
“And I don’t want ’em to,” Blue said. “I don’t want ’em talking about you, too.”
Lucy smiled ruefully. “Whatever they’d be saying, it would probably be true, wouldn’t it?”
He smiled, a tight, sexy, dangerous smile. “Well, yeah,” he said, “if they say I took one look at you and lost control.”
His soft words made Lucy’s heart leap into her throat. But they were just words, she reminded herself. “I’d be willing to bet,” she said, “that you don’t ever lose control.”
His eyes were unreadable, mysterious. “There’s always a first time.” His voice dropped to a nearly inaudible level. “All I know is, I’d do damn near anything to make love to you right now, Lucy.”
“Well, shoot,” Lucy said, crossing her arms and smiling to hide the way his words made