Deadly Little Secrets (19 page)

“I want to see you,” he declared, between kisses, pulling her toward him so he could take charge, lifting her as he laid them down together, still face to face, but now in a tangle of arms and legs.

He moved back, just a little, letting his hands and eyes speak for him, murmuring appreciatively as he spread his long fingers around her breasts, to massage and tease. “Beautiful,” he repeated, gliding his hands to her back now, shaping them around her backside, letting her set the pace.

She followed his lead, but instead of pulling back, she moved in, rolling him to his back and rising above him, straddling his hips. Unpinning her hair, she let it fall free, and brushed the tips of her hardened nipples over every inch of his chest. Slowly, with agonizing lightness, she skimmed her body over his, as she dropped the pins on the bedside table.

“Temptress,” he murmured, locking her in place with the strong band of his arms. Taking advantage of the position, he laved her breasts, tugged the nipples into his mouth to suckle them one after the other. “Such a magnificent temptation,” he said, just before he reversed their positions, trapping her under his superior weight, but without any effort at all.

“Now,” he said, a gleam in his eyes, “I'll look my fill.” He leaned on one elbow and proceeded to kiss his way down her body.

“This is lovely, this right here,” he declared, running the point of his tongue over the curve of her taut belly. “Exquisite.”

The slow, delicious torture of his exploration had her so hot, so ready to explode that when he eased his hand between her legs, still kissing his way down her belly, she gasped and cried out, letting the blinding orgasm blast through her.

“Yes, Ana. Oh, yes,” he murmured, sliding up to capture her mouth, kiss her deeply, share the ride as she pressed into his hand, gripping his wrist so he wouldn't move, couldn't move until she'd milked every last erg of energy from the explosion.

“Oh, my God,” she moaned. “That was…that was…” She stuttered to a stop. What the hell did she say? What was it?

“Amazing, gorgeous,” he groaned right along with her. “God, woman, you are magnificent.”

Everything within her lit up with his praise, the scent of him, of her own passion, of them together made her want to leap and dance. She hadn't felt this free since before her failed affair in Italy, maybe since college.

She wanted more. She wanted him.

“I need you, Gates, inside me. I need to feel you, please.” She tugged at him, trying to bring them together more quickly.

“Wait, honey, just a minute, okay?” He fumbled in his pants, protected them both.

“Now-now-now,” she demanded, pulling him back to her, lifting her hips to give him access. When he hesitated, about to speak, she denied that. “Now. I won't change my mind.”

“Now,” he agreed, easing into her slowly, inch by agonizingly luscious inch.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!” The cry was drawn out to a crescendo as he locked them together, fully engaged in her body, throbbing to the racing beat of both their hearts.

“Ana,” he growled. “Ana, open your eyes.”

Through the haze of pleasure she heard him and obeyed, reveling in the sight of him above her, the inferno of their mutual desire sparking in his gaze. “Watch me, Ana. See me as I move in you, make you wetter and wetter.” The words were hot, demanding, and they fueled her need, her hunger for him.

“Yes,” she rasped the words. “I see you, Gates. I see you. I see what it does to you when I move with you.” She timed her rhythm with her own thrusts, nearly faint with pleasure at the heat they were creating, the power, the rising blast of another mind-blowing release.

“You're beautiful, Ana.” He quickened the pace, then slowed it, then drew out only to come back to her in a rush. “You make me crazy with wanting you.”

“Gates.” She found his name, but could say little else as her body responded to his thrusts, to his words, to the intensity that built between them. “Give me…”

“What? What do you want, Ana?” he demanded, one hand braced on the headboard, the other lifting her to give her even more pleasure, letting her feel even more of him filling her, firing every nerve.

“You, I want you, now,” she moaned, writhing in her need to bring him closer, extend the feelings that swamped her, cresting higher and higher. “Gates!” she shouted as she exploded around him, driving him even deeper into her body as she rose to meet him, her hands on his hard, muscled ass.

“Ana!” he echoed her cry, finding his own release in the blazing glory of hers. “Ana,” he gasped, still driving forward, extending her pleasure as well as his as he rocked them together, continuing to murmur her name until they were both panting and spent.

He began to move away, but she stopped him. “No, stay.” She reinforced the words, wrapping her legs over his hips to keep him still.

“I'll crush you,” he said, resting his weight on his elbows, his head bowed nearly to her breast, his hot mouth teasing her skin as he tried to slow his breathing.

“No, you won't.” She ran her fingers through his hair and down the expanse of his back. Damn, he felt so good in her, and around her. Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing.

They lay together, letting their pounding hearts slow to a normal beat, silent in the dark room, enjoying the feel of one another's bodies with tender caresses and long, slow kisses.

He brushed the hair from her face and smiled, rubbing his thumb over her lip. “I think I bit you,” he said, obviously unrepentant. “Sorry about that.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you are.” She let her hands roam where they would, loving the long strength of him, the warmth that seemed to blanket her. “Somehow, Mr. Bromley, your body language tells me otherwise. You know, they teach us how to read body language in agent school.”

“Agent school, eh?” He laughed, bending to dance kisses up the left side of her jaw. “So what is my body telling you now, Agent?”

“That you want me,” she murmured with delight. “Again.”

“Ah, you are a marvel, Agent,” he said, his voice muffled in the skin of her shoulder as he skimmed more kisses down her collarbone. “You have the most delicate bone structure here.” He traced a finger up her sternum, between her breasts, and down the opposite line of her collarbone. “Deceptive, that delicacy.” He nipped her chin, then kissed her mouth.

She got lost in the drug of his mouth for several minutes then, and only when they broke apart, panting, did she question him. “Deceptive? How? What do you mean?”

“Relax, Agent.” Amused now, he lifted away, and she was instantly chilled. “I'm not impugning your strength, body, or character. It's a compliment.”

“Well then, I guess I can take that,” she said, leaning onto his chest. “You're pretty strong yourself there, Mr. Bromley.” She wanted to stretch and purr in sensual pleasure at the memory of him lifting her up, bringing her to orgasm with just his hands.

“Hmmm,” he murmured, and she could sense how relaxed he was, how near sleep. He was still aroused and so was she, but when he yawned, she followed suit and every bit of the day's trauma's came down on her like a wall. All she wanted to do was sleep.

She needed to get up, wash her face, check on Lancelot. The cat didn't like strangers, so she knew he was hiding somewhere.

“We should move,” he said, yawning again. “Get cleaned up.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” she agreed.

He pulled her closer, then flipped the covers over them, tugging them from one side so they cocooned them both in warmth. “So sweet,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair. “So beautiful. Ana.”

“Mmmm.” She let herself drift in the motion of his fingers on her back, loving the hypnotic sensation of the sweeping motion.

It was nearly dawn when she woke. Lancelot had jumped onto the bed and curled himself into a furry ball behind her knees. He looked at her for a moment, then purred loudly as he put his head down on his paws and closed his eyes. Sandwiched between Gates and the cat, she decided to just close her eyes for another minute. Just another minute, then she'd get up.

“Ana?” Gates murmured her name into her hair. His arms were banded around her, his body a furnace of warmth that made her want to stretch like Lancelot and luxuriate in the feeling of being held so tight.

“Mmmm? Hey,” she replied, eyes still closed, just enjoying being able to run her hands over his chest, feel the springy hair tickle her fingers, trace the muscles that excited her so much.

“We have to get moving. It's nearly eight.”

His words hit her brain like a bucket of cold water and she sat up. “What? What? How can that be?” She pushed her hair out of her eyes, staring at the clock. Sure enough, it read seven forty-two. “Oh, my God, I have to get to work.”

“Whoa, whoa!” He stopped her frantic attempt to unwrap the mummifying blankets and leap up. “Both of our bosses practically ordered us to sleep in. We've followed orders very nicely, I think.”

“Yes, but—”

“No. No buts. We both needed the sleep, and now,” he grinned wolfishly, “we need a wake-up call.”

She shoved at her hair again, sure that it was a rat's nest and that she must look like something the proverbial cat dragged in. “I look like hell,” she said, trying to get loose. She wanted to be sexy for him, as beautiful as she could be, since he seemed to think she was attractive.

I should brush my teeth, at least.

“No,” he growled, hovering over her, the blankets making a cape on his back. “You're gorgeous, sexy, and rumpled, with your sleepy eyes and your hyper-responsibility. I'm going to make us both late,” he said, swooping in to kiss her. “Very late.”

“Gates!” she protested, but it was half-hearted, because his mouth was working magic on her neck, the curve of her ear, and her mouth.
Oh my God, it's even better in the morning.

She met him kiss for kiss, caress for heated caress. “Here, touch me here,” she moaned.

“Yes, like that,” he directed as she shifted her hips to meet him, making them both groan with ecstasy as the maneuver brought a fresh wave of sensation to taunt them, bring them higher.

“Ohhh, yes,” she said, pulling him into her, deeper and faster. “More. I want more of you.”

“Look at me, Ana.”

She did, and what she saw in his face, in his eyes, made her heart race even faster. The wild passion was there, but so was something else. A tenderness, a desire that transcended the physical.

It made her want to weep. It made her want to dance. Instead, she arched up to claim his mouth, to fuse them together.

They broke the kiss only to gasp out their completion as they soared together over the edge into orgasm.

In the aftermath, he flipped them, holding her steady where she lay limp and spent on his sweaty chest. Her hair draped in damp ropes over his arm, and her head rose and fell with the powerful depth of his breathing.

He smoothed a possessive hand down her back, resting it for a moment in the spot he seemed to like at the small of her back. His fingers drew patterns there, lulling her mind, derailing all thought.

“Good morning, Anastasia,” he finally murmured as his restless fingers continued their lines and curves.

“Good morning, Gates,” she said, the words muffled by his chest and the fall of her heavy hair. With effort, she swished it to the side, freeing the dark strands from her mouth and using her fingers to untangle it from the chain she wore around her neck. The simple cross had twisted to the back and lay warm and heavy on her spine.

“This is a superior way to wake up,” he said. She could feel the chuckle that accompanied the words, heard it echo in his chest.

“I think I have the superior position, but yes, it has a lot to recommend it.”

He sighed, and she decided it sounded regretful. “Much as I don't want to move, I guess we should.”

She propped herself up, sweeping more hair out of the way to look at him. “You stopped me from rushing out of here, so I guess we'll just take our time. You want the first shower?”

His grin was wicked. “How about we share? I'll wash your back.”

The mental image of that was divine. “Okay. Race you,” she said, flinging the covers away and dashing for the bathroom.

“Unfair, wench!” he called, caught in the welter of blankets she'd tossed aside.

They played in the shower like slippery children, making love again as the warm rain of water flowed over them both.

She found them towels, offered him a toothbrush, shared her hairbrush. It was a surreal bubble of delight. No one had been there in the morning with her, like this. She'd never lived with a man, never shared a sink or a razor. She'd always been the one to slip away in the morning. Even when she'd dated her long-term boyfriend in college, she'd never let him stay at her apartment, she realized as she dried her heavy hair. Always cautious, she'd kept people slightly at arm's length since her parent's death.

“You have beautiful hair, Ana,” Gates said, standing behind her wearing only his trousers. They were only slightly wrinkled from their night draped over the foot of the bed. Hers were crumpled on the floor in the hallway, she realized, blushing. “Ah, now, that's nothing to blush over, it is beautiful.”

“Thank you. I was—” She hesitated, then realized it was ridiculous to be embarrassed at this point. “I was thinking that my suit was going to have to go to the cleaners. I didn't give two hoots about it last night, so I'm not sure where my jacket ended up.”

“It's on the coffee table with your shirt.”

“Ah, okay.” She couldn't help the continued color in her cheeks. “Your shirt?”

“I won't be buttoning the top two buttons this morning.” He grinned at their joined reflection in the mirror as he slid his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. Seeing them together that way, reflected in her small bathroom, she felt a change, a shift in her heart that nothing could stop. What had he done to her? “What?” he questioned. “Ana, what is it?”