Her Last Word

Nerves bunched in her stomach, and she felt as giddy as she had when she was a teenager. She would have wished for better timing, but the perfect time might not ever come. She came around the breakfast bar and moved toward him.

He didn’t flinch, but the way he regarded her turned careful and focused. Inches separated them. She reached out and took his hand in hers. She rubbed her fingers against the rough texture of the scars on his palm.

Challenge sparked in his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“You’ve never thought about it?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it. Too many times.”

In a few unguarded moments she’d allowed herself to imagine his arms around her. “I like you,” she said. “I shouldn’t. But I do.”

His eyes looked more blue than gray now. “Why shouldn’t you like me?”

“You’re a cop. You’d turn the tables on me in a heartbeat to solve a case.”

He didn’t respond. “I’d like to think I’d do my job no matter what.”

“Honest. And refreshing.”

He shook his head slowly. “But I’m not sure if I could do my job when it comes to you.”

“Really?”

“I like you. Very much.” His voice sounded rusted and a little unsure.

But no lies. No promises. And that was okay. She rose up on her toes and kissed him. He didn’t touch her. Didn’t move.

“Am I your weakness?” she asked.

No answer. But he didn’t draw away, and those blue eyes sharpened.

Good. She’d take that as a yes.

She kissed him again, this time cupping his shoulder as she pressed her lips against his. His hand came up to her waist.

The rough edges of his touch sent electricity shooting through her body as he moved his fingertips back and forth along her shoulder.

His fingertips moved to her jaw, tracing the sharp line. Her heartbeat kicked up, and breathing evenly became a challenge. When he ran his fingers over her lips, she parted them and gently bit his finger as she teased the tip with her tongue.

He cupped her face, and she leaned into the touch, absorbing his energy. He leaned forward, and tilting his head, pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was tentative, as if he were handling crystal. His lips hovered over hers.

“I won’t break,” she murmured against his lips. To prove it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss. His hand went to her waist, and his fingertips slid just below the waistband of her jeans. She opened her mouth, allowing him to slide his tongue inside. She leaned into the kiss, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her body pulsed.

His other hand cupped her breast, and his fingertips captured her nipple, pinching gently. When he drew his head up, his eyes were as black as coal. A muscle pulsed in his jaw.

Urgency swept over her. She needed to feel his touch, to feel him moving inside of her.

He dropped his head to her breast and lightly kissed. His other hand slid lower over her moist mound. The twin sensations took her breath away. She was hungry for more.

He sucked the top of her breast and then moved to her nipple. He circled his tongue around the stiff peak. She arched against him.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?” he said.

She ran her hand over the firm, flat muscles of his belly, her fingers inching toward his belt buckle. He captured her hand and held it close to his heart as he kissed her hard. She pulled free, pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and laid it on the sofa. He loosened his tie and pulled it free.

Slowly she unbuttoned his shirt. He took it off and tossed it on the jacket. She gripped the edges of his T-shirt and tugged. He flinched, seemed to hesitate, and then allowed her to lift the shirt up. He watched her face closely as she pulled off the shirt.

She dropped her gaze to the scars that marred his shoulders. She gently traced them with her fingers. He flinched but didn’t pull away as she explored. Instead of being repulsed, she saw a man who had sacrificed to save his friend.

“Do they hurt?” she asked.

“No. Not anymore.”

She felt a pulse of emotion as she leaned forward and kissed the scars. For a moment he didn’t move. Then he ran his fingers through her hair, fisting a handful.

She wanted him. Never before had she wanted anyone like this.

He reached for the hem of her shirt. In a smooth, swift move he tugged it over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. He looked down at the bandage on her side and skimmed his fingertips over it.

“I barely notice it anymore,” she said.

A smile tipped the edges of his lips as he reached for the snap on her jeans. With the flick of a finger, the snap came loose. He slid the zipper down slowly. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the first night I saw you.”

He slid the pants down over her slim hips until they fell to the floor. Cool air brushed her legs. She stood before him in white cotton panties. He smoothed his hand over her flat belly. Heat smoldered in his gaze. He took her by the hand and led her to the bed.

When she sat and stared up at him, he unzipped his own pants and pushed them to the floor. His erection pulsed, and the look in his gaze sent a tremor of excitement through her body. He turned and reached for his pants. He fished a condom from his wallet.

He tossed the condom on the bed, and she crawled backward until she was settled in the middle. He straddled her and pressed the tip of his erection against the cotton panties, rubbing against her. She grew wet. Slick. And she ached for him to be inside her. He pressed his hand to her center, smiling when he felt her moistness.

He reached for the condom, tore off the package, and slid it over his shaft. Then he reached for the waistband of her panties, and as she raised her hips, he slid them down her legs.

“So nice,” he whispered.

“You’re so hot,” she said.

His gaze darkened, and he spread her legs with his hands. He pushed his finger between the folds and inside her, moving in and out and making her so wet and horny she could barely think. Her blood raced, and her heart slammed against her ribs. She could feel the tempo building inside her, but ached to release.

He sensed her desire and pulled out his finger. “Not yet.”

She reached for his erection and slid her fingers around it. Slowly she moved her hands up and down the shaft as he pressed it into her hand. He leaned down for a kiss and cupped the back of her head, bringing her face up to his.

When he broke away, they were both breathless. She pulled her fingers down over his scarred back. He didn’t flinch this time.

She opened her legs, and he pressed the tip of his erection into her folds. He pushed in a fraction and pulled back. He pressed in again, pulled back. The exquisite torture made her dizzy with wanting. His hands slid down her belly to her engorged flesh and touched the sensitive spot that cried out for release.

He captured her hand in his, kissed the slick fingertips, and then roughly pushed inside her. She arched back, accepting all of him. A moan escaped her lips as he moved back and forth inside her and suckled her fingers. He released her hand and moved back and forth. She matched his rhythm, lifting her hips to all of his thrusts.

The tension built inside her, and she could feel he was coming. She cupped her breast and moaned. A muscle in his neck flexed like a tight cord, and his thrusts came faster with greater urgency.

When the wave washed toward her, she embraced it and gave herself over to the sensations that tore through her body. He groaned, and with one last thrust, his body tensed. For one blinding moment the two were bound by the most overwhelming sensation.

He collapsed on top of her and dropped his face in the crook of her neck. Her heart hammered, her muscles reduced to jelly. Finally she opened her eyes and focused on the ceiling.

“What was that?” she breathed.

He rolled off her, and they lay side by side, their naked bodies still touching. “I thought it was fairly obvious.”

That coaxed a smile. “My way of saying it was nice.”

“Nice?”

“Great.”