His eyes remained somber on hers. “After she died, I never thought I’d meet another woman who’d do it for me like she did. It’s been three years and no one’s even come close.” He picked up her hand and held it tightly. “And then you came along, and it’s different—yet so good.”
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Beautiful. Sexy. Smart. Sassy. Somehow, with your entrancing smile and caustic tongue, you’ve managed to captivate me.” He shook his head and his lips tugged upward. “You’re all I can think about. There’s a crazed killer on the loose and you’re the one constantly on my mind.”
He drew her even closer until their faces were only inches apart. He traced his fingertip softly across her lips. Ellie drew in a sharp breath and her heart rate increased its pace. She watched in fascination as his desire-filled gaze followed the progress of his finger.
“You’ve made me feel alive again, Ellie. It sounds like a cliché, but it’s like I’ve woken up from a long, deep sleep. All of a sudden, I feel like a man, with all the wants and needs and desires of a man. And I’m starved for the taste of you.”
His mouth came down on hers, crushing his final words against her lips. Warm and passionate, his tongue pressed with hot persistence until she opened her mouth for him.
He groaned at her capitulation and drew her flush against him. His mouth continued to ravage hers. His breathing rasped against her ears and her heart thudded.
Her limbs were heavy and disjointed. She was powerless to move away from him. Not that she wanted to. She’d been attracted to him right from the start, even if she hadn’t been prepared to admit it. His warm lips moved lower and nibbled at the skin of her neck and she sighed.
“You taste so good,” he murmured. “So soft. So beautiful. So sweet. I’m never going to get enough.”
His words sent a surge of excitement arcing through her, leaving her breasts tingling for his touch. Her nipples hardened beneath her sweater. Need pooled between her legs and she tightened her arms about him. He dragged his head up for another soul-wrenching kiss.
His lips were magic. Enough for her to forget everything but him. The coffee lay cold and abandoned on the side table. A biting wind nipped in through the opened doors and she was oblivious to all of that.
Sensation continued to build between her thighs and a mewling sound of need escaped her lips. Her clit tingled and throbbed and she almost sighed in relief when his palms cupped her breasts through her sweater and fondled them.
His fingers scraped over her aroused nipples and she moaned again. She ached to feel his hand on her bare skin and pulled away. She lifted her sweater over her head in one swift motion.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. Or knickers. There hadn’t been time. She’d barely had time to toss the towel on her bed and pull on a pair of jeans before he was there. She’d grabbed the sweater off the back of the chair in the living room and had hurriedly pulled it on as she’d rushed to open the door.
Now it lay discarded on the floor somewhere. It didn’t matter where. All that mattered was the feel of his hands on her heated skin.
His mouth closed over one of her nipples and she gasped and pressed against him. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. Too long. Her body was ready to explode.
But it wasn’t just her lack of sex that caused her to burn and tremble and shudder with every caress. It was
him
.
Clayton.
The man she’d had a crush on ever since he’d touched down in her life. A co-worker. A Fed. The type of man she swore she’d never date again.
Not that this was dating. This was sex. This was lust. This was two consenting adults sating their physical needs. It was as simple as that. Oh, he may have gone all romantic and mentioned the ‘L’ word, but she knew better than to pay heed to that.
The man was still in love with his dead wife, for God’s sake. He’d known Ellie for a bit over a month. It couldn’t be love.
It was two people admitting to an attraction and acting on it to their mutual advantage. It had been quite awhile for her between lovers and apparently, even longer for him. Surely they could enjoy each other for the moment and take what each of them was more than willing to give?
A mind-blowing orgasm beat a drink after work any day. She knew what she’d rather have. And by the feel of the solid hardness against her butt, he would be only too happy to oblige her.
And mind-blowing it would be, if the quality of his kiss was anything to go by.
His tongue stole into her ear and she shivered. Her nipples puckered in response. His hand brushed across them again, teasing them into hard little nubs. She grabbed his head in both hands and dragged it upward.
“Kiss me, Clayton.”
His eyes darkened with emotion and his lips came down once again to claim hers. Hot and possessive, they roamed over her mouth before his tongue plunged inside. Heart pounding, she clung to him, reveling in the excitement that was building deep inside her. She squirmed in his arms, wanting to be closer to his hardness. Her clit pulsed with need.
“I want you inside me.” Her whispered words elicited a groan from deep inside him. Releasing her mouth, he pushed her back gently against the cushions, his gaze sliding from her face to wander and pause at her naked breasts.
“Christ, you’re so beautiful. More than I imagined.” His fingers traced lightly across her heated flesh. She moved restlessly, needing to feel his weight upon her. Wanting him to hurry.
“Easy, now, sweetheart. We’ve got all night.” He bent low and circled her nipple with his tongue. The heat of it against her cool skin seared her. She gasped and pressed up into his mouth.
“Clayton.” It was a moan of want, of need, of impatience.
He chuckled and moved slightly away. His hands found the top of her jeans. With agile fingers, he undid the button and slid the zipper down. Lifting her hips, she wriggled on the couch while he tugged them off her and tossed them onto the floor.
She lay naked beneath his heated gaze. His gaze moved over her like a warm caress. Need settled wet and hot between her thighs. She reached for him.
Pulling his shirt off over his head, he made quick work of his boots and jeans. She watched in fascination at the play of taut muscle across his chest and abdomen.
Just as she’d imagined. The Fed had a body to die for.
Her fingers tingled at the thought of touching him. He shucked off his underwear and stood almost shyly in the dim light of the room and let her look her fill.
She took her time. He was all perfectly proportioned muscle, with not a skerrick of excess fat. An impressively broad pair of shoulders tapered into narrow hips. His cock stood thick and tall and ready. Her clit hummed in expectation.
He moved closer and the light from the fire glanced off the wedding band that hung around his neck. Ellie swallowed and looked past it to the wide expanse of golden chest.
His skin was pale, not bronzed, but he was from Canberra and it was the middle of winter. He’d hardly be sporting a tan. He was still beautiful.
And that was the only way she could describe him. Beautiful. She’d never seen such male perfection. Apart from in movies. And that’s what he looked like. A movie star. She suddenly felt unaccountably shy and uncertain. She half sat up and drew her knees to her chest.
He was beside her in an instant. Concern furrowed his forehead.
“Ellie, what’s wrong? What did I do? I’m sorry, if you’d rather I closed the curtains… I just want to look at you, that’s all. But—”
She shook her head and smiled softly. “No, it’s nothing. And I don’t mind the light.” Her voice dropped to a shy whisper. “I want to look at you, too.”
She drew her knees down and reached for him again.
He needed no further encouragement and settled himself on top of her. She felt the pressure of his erection against her womanhood and sighed when desire re-ignited inside her.
It had been so long since she’d been with a man. But this wasn’t just any man. This was Clayton and so far, being with him was better than anything she’d imagined or experienced. The Fed who she’d been determined to dislike, but who’d managed to overturn her pre-conceived character flaws at every turn… He was charming and kind, smart and funny. And okay, he was drop-dead gorgeous. He was nothing like Robert.
So, he was still in love with his dead wife. She could live with that. It just went to show how deeply he loved and how loyal he was. She had to admire that.
His forehead rested on hers. His lips hovered inches from her mouth.
“You’re thinking too much again, Ellie. I can feel the heat coming off your forehead.”
She grinned wickedly, hoping to distract him. “Maybe, I’m thinking about how good it will feel when I finally have you inside me… Thick and hard and hot. I have to tell you, I’m suitably impressed with your offering.”
He growled low in his throat. Arms taut with muscle slid underneath her and held her close as his mouth took possession of hers.
Heat flared between them. His arms tightened around her and Ellie’s pulse picked up its rhythm. His bare chest scraped across her already sensitized nipples and she arched up against him. His cock pressed against her clit. She moaned, filling with need.
He moved his hips against her. Her legs fell open in unspoken invitation. He groaned and settled himself between her thighs, his solid hardness pressed against her entrance.
A sudden thought intruded. She broke off his kiss with a gasp.
“What about a condom? Do you have one?”
* * *
Clayton tensed and then collapsed against her, breathing heavily. A few moments later, realization dawned. Anger stirred to life inside him. Coldness filled the pit of his belly. He lifted his head and looked at her.
“A condom? Why the hell would I have a condom? I didn’t actually come over here to seduce you, Ellie. “Is that what you think? That I
planned
this?”
“No, no. Of course not.” A blush stained her cheeks and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He pushed away and sat on the edge of the couch, his breath still coming in short gasps. Reaching down, he picked up his jeans and stood to pull them on.
She watched him in silence, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms draped protectively around them. Her eyes were huge and solemn.
“Please sit down, Clayton. Whatever you’re thinking, I can tell you, you’re way off base. I don’t think you planned to end up on my couch. The only reason I asked was because I’m…” Her cheeks stained a darker color in the dim light. She stared at the floor.
He shook his head, totally bewildered. Almost defiantly, she looked up and met his eyes. “I’m not using any contraception, okay? I know that probably makes me sound like an idiot. A single twenty-seven-year-old, passably attractive woman just winging it, but the truth is—”
She paused again and looked away. He could see she was struggling with what she wanted to say.
His anger softened. “What is it, Ellie? What are you trying to tell me?”
Filling her lungs with a deep intake of air, she let it out slowly and met his gaze again. “The truth is, there hasn’t been a need for contraception. I haven’t had sex since Jamie died.”
His heart swelled with tenderness at the embarrassment on her face. He came over and sat down close beside her. Tugging her resisting form toward him, he enfolded her in his arms. Her head fell onto his chest and she let out a quiet sigh of relief.
He bent his head and kissed the top of hers. Her silky hair smelled good. “Tell me about Jamie,” he murmured against it.
She was silent for so long, he didn’t think she was going to answer. He swallowed his disappointment.
But then she spoke. Softly, haltingly, as if the words still had the power to wound.
“It happened just over three years ago. An accident. A hit-and-run. They’ve never found the person involved. But it gets worse. There were no brake marks at the scene.” Her eyes, dark with anguish, locked on his. “Somebody didn’t even try
not
to kill my baby. Worse, they might have hit him intentionally.”
“Christ,” he muttered, tightening his arms around her. “I had no idea. When I found out about it on line, I only read the newspaper reports written the day after it happened. The police were still making their enquires. I didn’t realize no one was charged.”
Her lips trembled. “Nope. Not one single suspect was even interviewed. Even though it happened in the middle of the afternoon on a busy city street, nobody saw a thing. Even his daycare attendant couldn’t help. She was hurt, too. Not critically,” she added, “but enough broken bones and a concussion to see her hospitalized for a couple of months. She was lucky.”
Clayton enfolded her in a hard embrace, wanting to take away her pain. Knowing he couldn’t.
A shudder went through her. The quiet sob pierced his heart.
“He was my baby, Clayton. My little boy. He was only two. His coffin was so tiny. It shouldn’t have happened. Not to him. Not to my baby. Why couldn’t it have been
me
?”
The anguished question let loose a torrent of emotion.
Tears spilled over. More sobs wracked her body. Clayton felt her pain as his own and held her, whispering quiet words of love and comfort against her sweet-smelling hair while she cried and cried and cried.