Fallen Angels 03 - Envy (14 page)

“Thanks.”

As he took off his coat, his big shoulders rol ed in a way that should have been only about the de-clothing, but somehow got morphed in her mind into something naked and panting.

Time for a distraction, she thought as he started to unpack.

“Hey, why don’t I print out the case file while you get started with the food?” she said.

“That’d be great.”

“It may take a little while. My printer’s ancient.”

“We’ve got the time.”

Evidently: Going by the way he was concentrating on the chips bag, he was about to perform brain surgery with the help of her microwave. And okay, wow. The cool, impassive, handsome-as-hel routine was sexy, but this consternation made him approachable. Wel , that and the way he’d opened up about the dating thing. She’d never once considered the groupie angle—but then, even good-looking people could be pursued for the wrong reasons, couldn’t they.

In her office down the hal , she logged into the CPD database, fired up the report, and stood by the printer, ready to perform the Heimlich when the thing got jammed—which it did. Twice.

The first hint that al wasn’t wel at the other end of the house was the unmistakable nose-wrinkling aroma of burning meat. Second was an explosion of cursing. Which kept up until she headed back with the copies.

Lot of F-bombs.

And then the smoke detector went off.

Holy smokes was right. Whatever was in the pan on the stove—the hamburger meat, most likely, but with Veck, maybe it was the nachos—needed a fire hose. But he was on it, heading for the sink with the mess, putting it in there, and not turning the water on yet. And he was instantly over at the screaming unit on the ceiling, fanning the detector with a dish towel without having to get up on his tiptoes.

“I think one of the roosters jacked up the heat,” he shouted.

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

She hid a smile as she put the papers on the table and got a gander at what he’d laid out on a plate: Shreds of orange cheese had bonded at the molecular level with the layer of Santitas.

Only one thing to do now, she thought.

Heading for the phone, she said, “What do you like on your pizza, oh, mighty fanner.”

“Pepperoni and sausage.”

“Good cal .”

As she dialed up the local joint, she glanced over. The bottom of his shirt had ridden up, and she got a clear flash of the black waistband of his Calvins .

. . as wel as a stretch of taut skin that had that dark line running down from his bel y button.

It took no time at al for her brain to segue back to the bathroom scene from the night before. One instant and she was there, seeing his body naked—

“Oh, yeah, hi.” She turned away quickly. “This’l be for delivery. Yup, that’s me. Large pepperoni and sausage. Yup. No, no drinks . . . No, I don’t want a second pizza for free. . . .No, no wings . . . No, thanks, we don’t need—No cinnamon wedges, either.” For God’s sake, it took longer to shut them down about the “deals” than for them to masurprisex, and drive out the damn pizza. “Great, thanks.”

Hanging up, she squared her shoulders and pivoted around again—

Veck was standing right behind her, his lids at half-mast, his body so much larger that it appeared when he was five feet away from her.

She didn’t move. Neither did he.

“Do you believe confession is good for the soul?” he said darkly.

“Yes . . .”

“Then I have something I’d better tel you.”

Oh, God, this was why they told you not to mix business and pleasure: As their eyes met, she was not thinking about the case. She was thinking she might have to do a little admitting of her own.

I saw you naked last night and you’re beautiful.

“What,” she breathed.

I want you even though I shouldn’t.

Swal owing hard, she said, “Tel me . . .”

V
eck knew he shouldn’t answer his partner, and he sure as hel shouldn’t have come around to stand this close to her. The right move would have been to start cleaning up the mess he’d made with the food—instead of creating another one.

Except he’d seen her staring at his body, and the expression on her face had been a hard, driving hunger. Surprising ? Yes. Satisfying? Could be if they fol owed up on it.

The trouble was, that was not the kind of thing you could tidy up with soap and hot water.

“What?” she whispered.

“I want to . . .” The word was so crass that he kept it to himself.

“Say it.”

He leaned in and put his lips by her ear. “You know exactly what I want.”

“And I want you to say it.”

“You sure about that. It ain’t nothing nice.”

Before he could retreat, she reached out and put her hands on his hips. Her touch was light as a shadow fal ing across his body, but he felt the burn al through him. And one thing was certain, if she drew him to her? She was going to know
exactly
what was on his mind.

The hold on him tightened. “Tel me.”

His voice dropped to a growl: “I want to
fuck
you.”

As she moaned a little, he kept going. “I want you naked. Under me. And I want to be inside you.” He dipped down and ran his mouth over her neck.

“But I know you specialize in conflicts of interest, so you are damn familiar with al the reasons this is a bad idea.”

Cue her backing away. Or him stepping off.

Neither of them moved.

Shit, his body was teetering on out of control, his erection pounding to get free and do what it did best. Which meant that if they were going to do the right thing here, the strength had to come from her.

“Slap me,” he groaned. “Push me away . . . for God’s sake, lock yourself in the bathroom or something. Because if you don’t, I’m going to—”

“Kiss me.”

God, the tone she used: That was a command, right there. And who was he to disobey an order? Especial y from a superior?

Veck reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist. With a hard, impatient pul , he yanked her against his body. Next move was to take out the tie in her hair and throw it on the ground.

Man, she was edible with that stuff not pul ed back, the red weight down around her shoulders, looking like it was more than ready to have a man’s hands in it.

As he gripped the nape of her neck and locked on, he was damned aware that he was dominating the hel out of her, taking control of her body, holding her like he meant to shove her onto her kitchen table and kneel between her legs so he could suck on her sex.

But then again, that was what he wanted to do to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, aware that he was apologizing not only for what he was about to do, but for al the shit racing through his mind, al the down-and-dirty he wanted to put them both through.

And then he sealed their fate by sealing their lips.

Her mouth was soft under him—and so were her breasts against his chest and her hips against his cock . . . she was soft and hot, the kind of thing he wanted to seep into and stay in awhile. But even as his pelvis curled in and his erection pulsed, in the back of his mind, he knew that conflict of interest was not the biggest problem they had. As much as he was pretending to be back to normal, he was ripped raw on the inside, between the shit in the woods and the update on his dad.

And he was worried Reil y looked like exactly the kind of Band-Aid he needed . . .

It was the last logical, decent thought he had.

As he penetrated her with his tongue, his arms tightened up and his lower body arched again, the squeeze and stroke on his cock juicing him even further. And that was before he felt the shudder that went through Reil y. Clearly, she was right there with him, especial y as her nails bit into his shoulders and her thighs split, giving him an opening to push one of his legs through.

With an internal curse, he shifted her around and eased her down on the table, on top of the paperwork she’d just printed out. Images of her with her legs over his shoulders and him licking up the center of her core made him think he might have done some false advertising with his F-bomb.

Wel , not false, real y. He was just adding a very vital tourist attraction on the way to the big event.

His palm swept down to the outside of her thigh and he lifted her leg, rubbing himself even closer to where he ultimately wanted to be. Breaking the suction of their mouths, he buried himself in her neck, nipping and licking.

“Let me see you,” he groaned into her throat. “Let me . . .”

Inside
, another voice said.

Abruptly, he lost his rhythm, pul ing out of the spiral and looking up. Now his heart beat for a different reason.

“What is it?” she said.

His eyes flashed around. Except there were no shadows darting around her rooster kitchen. No creaks of floorboards or squeaking hinges. Nothing staring in through the windows.

After a moment, his adrenaline faded, and he became aware once againwhere they were and what he’d been doing with her.

Maybe it had just been a real y loud internal thought.

Which considering what had happened with Kroner the night before didn’t make him feel better at al .

Her hand came up and lay on his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“No.” He refocused on her face. Felt her body beneath his own. Heard her deep breaths. “But I don’t want to stop. You’re real to me . . . and I fucking need that right now. I need . . . you right now.”

She was not like the other women he’d had: Her smart eyes saw too much, knew too much. Hel , he’d been naked in front of her from the first moment he’d met her—and that should have sent him running in the opposite direction. Instead? He just wanted the shit out of her.

“Then take me,” she said, pul ing her shirt free of her skirt.

He didn’t give her more than a split second to change her mind: as he had with her lips, he dived in, running his hands under the opening she gave him, making contact with a whole lot of warm female skin. And then the buttons came free as if they had the same objective he did: al -access.

He reared up when the last popped open. . . . Holy fuck.

Red lace. Intricate red lace over a set of perfectly proportioned breasts.

Which meant that through the little cutouts, he saw her nipples, tight and straining.

“Do you like what I bought today?” she asked hoarsely.

“Not bad.” He cleared his throat as his voice cracked. “Not bad at al . But what’s underneath is even hotter.”

With smooth grace, her hands went up and traced the bra’s thin, bright straps . . . then drifted down to the hard tips that, as she arched, begged for him.

On a growl, he shoved up her skirt and maneuvered himself between her legs, spreading them further with his hips as he went for what had caught his eye: Drawing her into his mouth through the amazing bra, there was the rasp of the lace against his tongue, but also peek-a-boos of the pink, tight flesh beneath.

Wasn’t long before that was so not enough.

With a rough, impatient hand, he tugged the cup down, revealing her nipple.

“Fucking hel . . .” he bit out. “You are—”

Uninterested in him talking: in a rush, her fingers grabbed onto the back of his head and brought him downward to her breast. As he sucked her in, she jacked up off the table, and that movement, that jerking, demanding shove snapped what last restraint he had. Al at once, he took over, pushing one of his arms under her and lifting her further, using his other hand to go right between her thighs, to that heat behind her hose and her panties.

He rubbed her sex, his palm hitting the top, right where she needed—

“Veck !”

The sound of his name was al about the more, more, more. And he was going to give it to her. Switching sides, he bit the other half of the bra and pul ed it down with his teeth, before he suckled on her opposite nipple.

This stil wasn’t enough, though. He needed ful -contact naked. Here, now—

The moan that rippled up and out of her was just the kind of agreent that he needed to hear.

Christ, this was going to happen, he thought. This was going to
happen
.

Veck was total y dominant.

Reil y hadn’t expected anything less, but what was a surprise was how much it turned her on. Part of it was her sense that if she got uncomfortable with how far they’d gone, he’d pul back in a second. But the other half was the way he handled her, the confidence, the power, the erotic possibility that came from his mouth and his hands and his intense, hot eyes.

No doubt he’d started out with a natural talent for sex . . . and developed it over the years.

Abruptly, as if he read her mind, his stare flashed up to hers and locked on while he flicked her nipple with his tongue . . . and as his lids lowered, she knew he wanted her to watch him.

What a sight it was. He’d pul ed down the other side of her bra and was working her there, licking and sucking as his flat hand pushed into her. God, he was big—al over: His erection was a long, thick ridge rubbing against her inner thigh, his shoulders were so huge she couldn’t see anything past them, and his lower body was taking up al the room between her spread legs.

With her breasts pushed up by the bra he’d pul ed down, her shirt wide-open, and her skirt up around her waist, the next logical undoing was the thin nylon covering her legs, and she popped her pelvis off the table, feeling that circling palm of his press harder into her. Dipping her thumbs into the elastic waistband, she scooped the hose down and ducked her hips, the constriction slipping onto her thighs.

“I’l take it from there.” Veck eased back, his eyes on fire as he stared at her body. “Mmm . . . right where I want to be.”

As he smiled like a predator, she brought her knees up to help as he stripped the hose off slowly. And it wasn’t until the thin wisps were free of her feet that she had to wonder how far this was going to go. Was she real y going to take what they’d started to the conclusion they were both gunning for?

If that was a “yes,” there were practicalities to deal with.

But, crap, what a buzz kil the condom discussion was—and, yeah, now she knew why people made dumb choices when it came to sex. Al the things that truly mattered, the things that were going to sting after these intense minutes were over and done with, the things she’d have to live with, maybe forever . . . were nothing more than distant echoes she could barely hear, spoken in a language she didn’t want to translate.