Part 12 (2/2)
Brett left them to close himself into the far bedroom for the night and make his call. And once again, Diego and Scarlet were left alone.
”I need to get some sleep, too,” he said.
”Of course. Your things are in the room,” she said. She sounded nervous, but she met his eyes as she spoke.
He shook his head, smiling slightly. ”We don't have to do anything, Scarlet.”
”What if I want to do something?” she asked.
The color of her eyes was like a mix of the sea and sky on a summer's day; the wistfulness in her voice seemed to touch something as old as time in his soul. He fought not to fall prey to his emotions, to remember that once they'd had something unique, special beyond anything he'd ever dreamed of, but it still hadn't been enough to last for all time.
And yet he couldn't stop himself.
”I have a feeling I could be convinced,” he told her lightly.
She smiled. ”Well, then...”
She turned to head for her room. He caught hold of her shoulder, and swung her back around and into his arms. He kissed her, relis.h.i.+ng the softness of her lips, her tongue...and a hunger that seemed to match his own.
He broke away, breathless. Her eyes seemed dazzling now on his.
”Wow,” she murmured, then turned serious. ”Brett is down at the other end of the hall.”
He grinned. ”And you don't think Brett knows what we're doing?”
She flushed. ”Some divorced people hate each other.”
”I never hated you.”
”I only hated you a little.”
That hurt-because he knew why.
He started to pull away, but she held him back. ”Only a little bit-and only for a little while,” she whispered, sounding almost desperate. ”And I know that...that I was at fault, too.”
”You were never at fault,” he told her.
”But I was,” she said. ”I wanted the knight in s.h.i.+ning armor all the time, the man who was charming and teased and laughed, and could make everyone around him comfortable...who even made me jealous sometimes, but not really, because I knew I was the one you wanted. I didn't want to get between you and your work, because I knew it was a pa.s.sion for you, but at the same time I resented it for coming between us.”
”I shouldn't have let that happen,” he said. He started to turn away.
She stopped him, pleading in her eyes. ”Can we forget the past for tonight? No past, no future. Just tonight.”
His only answer was to pull her back into his arms. His physical response to her was almost embarra.s.singly instantaneous.
She felt him against her and practically melted into him. Her fingers started playing with the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt.
”Brett's down the hall,” he reminded her, echoing her words in one last attempt to retain his sanity.
”Yes, but he knows what we're doing,” she said.
Then she smiled, turned and walked down the hall to her room.
He followed.
She closed the door and kicked off her shoes. Her T-s.h.i.+rt hit the floor in seconds, her bra following suit without a pause. She s.h.i.+mmied out of her jeans and panties while he watched, and then she stood naked before him, smiling.
He grinned, pulling his holster and gun from his waistband, then set them on the bedside table before practically tearing off his s.h.i.+rt.
There had been a time when she'd hated the gun, when she'd asked him to put it out of sight the minute he got home, a request he hadn't recognized for what it was: an attempt to forget about his job for a little while and have him all to herself.
She didn't ask that tonight.
The minute he ditched the rest of his clothes she moved into his arms, her heated skin practically setting his aflame. ”Remember how to do this?” she teased.
”I remember everything,” he told her seriously. ”I remember that one of the things that drives you the craziest is when I stand behind you and run the tip of my tongue down your spine. Want me to show you?”
She started to say something, but he didn't give her the chance. He caught her lips, then lifted her and set her down on the bed. He kissed her long and deeply, and he never really broke away, he just trailed down to her throat and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and then her midriff and along the soft silky flesh of her inner thighs.
She writhed and moaned against him, her fingers on his shoulders, her body arching in a way that fed his hunger and desire nearly to the breaking point. He made love to her slowly, despite the burning need within him, taking her almost to the point of no return, then backing off and finding her lips again, teasing her flesh as he savored the feel of her, the pleasure of being with her again.
She cried out softly again and again, until suddenly she became the aggressor, s.h.i.+fting until she was on top of him, burning his skin with kisses and caresses, and then sliding onto him again until he rolled her under him again and drove them both to a violent climax. Finally, exhausted, sated, the sound of their heartbeats like a crescendo in the night, they rested.
As he held her, he remembered how they had promised each other forever...and how soon they'd broken that promise.
He was surprised when she spoke.
”Thank you,” she said softly.
He turned to her. ”No, thank you,” he said, and smiled.
”I-I haven't, um, I haven't really even dated since...” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away.
Resting on an elbow, he watched her face in the pale light that seeped in through the window. ”Neither have I.”
”What? I don't believe you.”
”One dinner,” he told her.
”Was she nice?”
”Yes.”
”Was she pretty?”
”Very.”
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