Part 13 (1/2)
Too late she'd realized she had said the wrong thing, and quickly wondered why she'd said it at all. She had wanted to strike out at something and he was an easy target. The dark eyes staring at her became darker and his jaw tightened. His hands were opening and closing in tight fists, and she wondered if he'd decided to wring her neck, after all.
He slowly turned to the others and said in a rather calm voice, ”Excuse us a moment. Sam and I need to have a private conversation.”
It was on the tip on her tongue to say no, they didn't need to have anything, but then she changed her mind. It was best to get it over and done with now. She'd thought last night was the end of things, but apparently it wasn't.
None of the others, she noted, seemed inclined to hang back. Luke, however, leaned over and whispered in Blade's ear, but loud enough for everyone to hear, ”Hey, man. Go easy on her. Remember, until they catch this guy you're still a suspect.”
Blade's eyes sharpened, but hers rolled. She was glad when Mac all but shoved him out the door. When the door closed behind them, Sam decided to sit back down in her chair. If Blade wanted to stand during their confrontation, that was his business.
”So, what do we have to talk about?” she asked.
He didn't say anything for a long while. He just stood there and stared at her.
”Well, I'm waiting and I don't have all day, Blade.”
She knew she was goading him again, deliberately being a pain in the a.s.s. But for some reason she couldn't help it. He wasn't supposed to be here. Last night should have been the last she'd seen of him, at least for a good while. He was a player and she had played him. He was supposed to hate her guts. He should be spitting on the ground she walked on, or better yet, sticking pins in a voodoo doll that bore her likeness.
But instead he was here. He had all but burst into her office like a madman, as if he was a former lover or even her current one. The entire time Detective Adams sat asking her questions, he'd stood across the room, propped against the wall with his eyes glued to her.
”Why didn't you tell Detective Adams everything, Sam?”
She logged off her computer and then turned and looked at him. ”Everything like what?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. ”Like how you like getting your kicks as a player hater by playing guys. Did you ever think doing that kind of c.r.a.p might catch up to you one day? Did it ever cross your mind that somewhere along the way you might have p.i.s.sed some guy off big-time?”
She rolled her eyes, something she'd found herself doing a lot around him. ”Hey, Blade, it's not that serious. Does every woman you dump come gunning for you?”
He came around the desk and pulled back her chair and then pinned her in with his arms braced on both sides. He leaned down, in her face, and nailed her with his gaze, as if he wanted to make sure he had her absolute attention.
”How many times do I have to tell you that the women I get involved with know the score?” he said in a clipped tone. ”I don't play those kinds of games with women. They know what I want from them. They also know what I don't want, which is a commitment of any kind. And if they somehow get it into their heads that they can change me along the way, then it's their fault for thinking it and not mine. Not all players are dogs, so don't blame me for what some other guy did to you, Sam. I don't appreciate it and I won't accept it.”
A caustic comeback was just on the tip of her tongue. She thought about telling him that she didn't give a d.a.m.n what he didn't appreciate or accept, but something stopped her. Maybe it was because she realized just how close those s.e.xy and kissable lips of his were to hers. It could have been his heated breath that warmed her skin. Or maybe it was the memory of those lips on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her belly, between her legs, inside of her, that suddenly made a shudder run through her body. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter, because she was sure that he felt it, as well. He'd once said her body had the ability to send him vibes. Evidently it was doing so now. There was a change in his eyes, in his breathing and in the way he looked at her. At that moment she knew that she was his main focus.
She tried to s.h.i.+ft her body in the chair and wished she hadn't when her knee accidentally brushed against his crotch. She felt his erection-hard and ma.s.sive. Her throat tightened and she tried to look away, but found she couldn't. The gaze holding hers was intense, almost daring her to avert her eyes even a fraction. And she couldn't. Instead she sat there, staring as intently into his eyes as he was staring into hers. She felt the heat rise between her legs, wetting her panties, sending fierce sensations all the way to her womb.
And then she remembered just how it felt to have him inside of her. Although he hadn't gone in all the way, he had gone in deep and far enough for her to commit to memory what he'd felt like. At that moment, that was what her mind was dredging up. The feel of him inside of her, how her inner muscles had clamped hold of him, ready to pull everything out of him.
It would be so easy to just go ahead and reach out and unzip his pants, and pull out his aroused body part, s.h.i.+ft her position in the chair, prop her legs on her desk if she had to, and lead him inside of her, to finish what they'd started last night. She could just imagine him gripping her hips with his hands, leaning forward, flexing his lower body to push all the way to her womb. She'd never been taken in her office before, although she'd fantasized about it several times. And he'd always been the man she figured that she would be crazy enough to risk doing such a thing with.
If the chair got to be too uncomfortable, he could always move her to the desk, spread her legs, get on top of her and pump his way inside of her. He could hold her body immobile while he thrust back and forth like n.o.body's business, and make her come all over the place, all over him. And likewise, he would come, too. She could just imagine the feel of his hot s.e.m.e.n shooting inside of her.
She clenched her thighs together, wondering if a woman could have an o.r.g.a.s.m in broad daylight just thinking about what a man could do to her. She heard herself moan and realized from the look in Blade's eyes that he'd heard it, as well. Before she could pull in her next breath he responded to her moan with a guttural growl, just seconds before slamming his mouth down on hers.
He didn't mean to kiss her. In fact, he had decided after last night that he wouldn't come within ten feet of her again. But there was something about Samari Di Meglio that got to him on a level no other woman could. She had done more than just get under his skin. She had gotten into other places in his body, as well. Places he didn't want to think about now.
Instead he wanted to concentrate on this-the taste of her, the feel of her tongue tangling with his. The sensations that having his mouth locked with hers were invoking within him-those were the things he wanted to focus on. Those were the things so clearly on his mind.
She was a hard nut to crack since she still refused to acknowledge or believe that no matter what she said, her body always told a different story. He'd known the moment she had wanted him, the moment her panties had begun getting wet. He didn't have to touch them to know it had happened. Her body had emitted a sensuous scent, an aroused scent, one he had come to know and recognize. It was a scent that pushed him to want to take things to another level, such as taste her in the most intimate way. Get inside her body and this time stay there, without any d.a.m.n interruptions, whether he was wearing a condom or not.
He heard the warning bells going off in his head. They were flas.h.i.+ng like crazy, making all kinds of loud noise. But he would deal with all that later. Right now, the only thing he wanted to deal with was this. The tastiest woman he'd ever had the pleasure of devouring.
The soft knock on the door broke them apart. He pulled back reluctantly and breathed in deeply. Then a frown covered his face. Whoever was at that door had better have a good reason for interrupting them.
”What?” he called out, and none to nicely.
The door slid open and Luke poked his head in. He glanced at both of them and Blade was certain he could clearly see Sam's kiss-swollen lips and his still-wet mouth. And Luke had the d.a.m.n nerve to smile.
”Sorry for the interruption, but I'm just checking to make sure that the two of you are still alive in here, and haven't done each other in.” His smile widened when he added, ”It was Mac and Peyton's idea. They were worried.”
Blade moved toward the window, deciding to let Sam respond to that. ”As you can see, we're fine. However, we're still discussing a few things,” she said.
”Okay, I'll let them know. Priscilla ordered pizza and it should be here in a few minutes. It's best eaten when it's hot.”
”Fine. We'll be out shortly,” Sam said.
Luke nodded and then closed the door.
Sam glanced across the room. Blade had been standing at the window, gazing out, but when Luke closed the door he had turned around with his hands in his pockets and was staring at her. She pulled in a deep breath. ”I thought we settled things between us last night, Blade,” she heard herself say in a shaky voice. That had been some kiss. Her body was still tingling all over from it.
Emotions she didn't want to deal with, emotions she wished would stay locked where she had kept them, were rising to the surface. She tried forcing them back under lock and key and discovered she couldn't.
”I thought so, too,” he said. But for some reason she didn't think he was as confused by what had happened as she was.
”You said you wanted to talk,” she reminded him.
She watched as he slowly walked back to her desk and sat on the edge of it. Then he said, ”I'm sure you have your reasons for not telling Adams everything. I don't have a full understanding of what those reasons are, but what I do know is that there are two women beyond that door who will do anything, even put their lives on the line if they had to, in order to protect you. Do you want that?”
No, she didn't. She didn't even want to think of her own life being on the line, although after reading that card she had to face the reality that there was a strong possibility it was. ”No, that's not what I want,” she finally said, reaching for the business card Detective Adams had left her. It was a business owned by a friend of his. She picked it up. Rowdy's Security Service. She shook her head. Security service was just another name for bodyguards.
”And do you want to do that?” he asked, glancing at the card she held. ”Hire someone to be around you twenty-four hours a day?”
She glanced up at him. ”No, but do you have a better idea? And I meant what I said about not wanting my parents to know. They would call in the darn National Guard if they thought for one moment my life was in danger.”
Blade nodded. ”You might eventually have to tell them what's going on.”
”I'll cross that bridge when I come to it,” she said, tossing the business card back on her desk.
Blade looked at her. ”And to answer your question, yes, I think I have a better idea, and I want you to hear me out. Okay?”
She wasn't sure what his idea would be, but she was willing to listen. ”Okay.”
He stood, paced a few times and then turned back to her. ”The way I see it, you're probably safe at work and at home. Any danger you'll face will be traveling between both places.”