Part 3 (1/2)
Jesse grinned. That sounded safe enough. Her touch, he was sure he couldn't resist. But words? h.e.l.l, words wouldn't be a problem for him.
”You're on,” he said.
”Have a seat, then.” She gestured to the open door.
Jesse sat, swinging his long legs into the small car. He was enveloped in her scent, seeped as it was into the smooth leather seats and gunmetal interior. Giving him an excellent view of her smooth cleavage under the neckline of her top, Audra leaned down. Her face almost in his crotch, she reached between his legs. Jesse's jeans grew tight and he caught his breath as antic.i.p.ation hammered through him. ”What happened to just voice?”
She turned her head, the parking lot lights making the magenta tips of her hair glow. She gave him a grin and he heard a click. Then the seat slid back. She rose with a wink and, leaning across him so her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were at eye level, she flicked off the interior light.
”Just making sure you're comfortable,” she said. Then with a twist, a little s.h.i.+mmy in that tight black leather dress, she sat on his lap so that her back was to the driver's seat and her deliciously long legs were resting on the open door's armrest.
The nearest light was a half dozen or so cars away, and the parking lot deserted, so they had the illusion of privacy. But it wasn't private, and the door was wide open. Maybe if Jesse repeated that to himself a few dozen times, he could find the strength to care.
The temptation of those legs, encased in silky black stockings, was too much for him. Reveling in the feel of her toned limbs, he slid his hand down her thigh.
”Mmm, you have good hands. I'll bet you can work wonders with those fingers of yours.” She laid her hand over his and guided it back up her thigh, just to the edge of the b.u.t.ter-soft leather hem. A hem that was inches, bare inches, from the promise of heaven between those glorious thighs. ”I'd like to feel those hands on my body. You could start by unzipping my dress. All I'd have to do is stand up and it would slide to the ground, leaving me in silky little bits of nothing.”
”Computers,” he blurted.
”Beg your pardon?”
”I work with computers. That's how I keep my fingers limber.” And how he'd dulled his social skills. d.a.m.n, could he sound any more stupid? Maybe he could sweet-talk her with some HTML code next? ”Are you much into computers?”
Maybe that was her link with crime ring? Although with Davey on board, they probably didn't need any hacking help, as the dork was second only to Jesse himself in computer expertise. Nah, she had to be the handoff.
”Computers? I know about enough to turn one on.”
”I'll bet you do,” he murmured.
”I suppose that explains it,” she mused.
He gave her a questioning look.
”Under that hunky exterior, you've got a brainy thing going on.”
”Brainy?” Dammit, why brainy? Not that he sucked at attracting women, but there was always that layer of intellectual connection. His family was dead set on reducing him to a brain, albeit a handy brain when they needed heavy furniture moved. His coworkers and captain in Cyber Crimes valued his brains, counted on them to break the hardest cases. But the last thing he wanted to be noted for when he had the s.e.xiest women he'd ever met in his lap was what was in his head. At least, not the one on his shoulders.
But, hunky? He knew it was immature, but his biceps clenched to support his hunk t.i.tle. He could live with hunky.
”Yeah, you have a look in your eyes that tells me you think things through. Which is good. That means you'll think long and hard-” she paused for effect, then to punctuate her point, she wiggled her b.u.t.t just a little ”-about doing any job the best you can.”
”Well, yeah. I do take pride in doing my best.”
”I'll bet you do. Someone with that thoughtfulness, that attention to detail, you're sure to hit at least a seven, maybe even an eight, on the o.r.g.a.s.m scale.”
”o.r.g.a.s.m scale?” It was as if she'd posted a challenge sign. His testosterone demanded he grab that gauntlet and prove his manhood. ”What's the scale? One to eight?”
Audra placed her fingers, just the tips, on the back of his hand and slid it under the edge of her skirt. Then she leaned close so he could feel her warm, sweet breath on his face. ”Ten, baby. The top of the scale is a ten.”
”What's the criteria for placement on this scale of yours?” He stifled a groan when he realized those luscious black hose covering her long legs stopped at the top of her thighs. He traced the rough, lacy band and told himself mewling pitifully would probably not rate high on her scale.
”Visual stimulation is the first step,” she explained, her husky lisp stimulating him more than most women could with a naked body and a can of whipped cream. ”A look across the room, the s.e.xual energy that sparks between two people when their eyes meet.”
He slid his index finger under the band of her stockings, imagining how it'd feel to roll the silky fabric down her thighs, leaving her flesh bare for his lips.
”Do you know how it is when you meet someone's eyes, and your body responds s.e.xually? For a man, you might get a little hard, might feel your muscles tighten. Me, I get damp. Damp is always a good sign in climbing the o.r.g.a.s.m scale.”
”I'll admit, I did get hard when our eyes met,” he said.
She smiled her approval, obviously delighted he was willing to play along.
”Why don't you find out if I got damp?”
”We're a little past the meeting-of-the-eyes stage,” he reminded her.
”Then why don't you see if I'm wet?”
Jesse couldn't resist. He slid his fingers higher on her thigh, brus.h.i.+ng the tips over the lacy fabric of her panties. He groaned aloud. Wet. Deliciously wet.
”See, you're well on your way to an eight.”
”I'm sure I can hit higher than an eight on that particular scale,” he a.s.sured her fervently.
”Babe, n.o.body's gotten higher than an eight. That fabled ten on the o.r.g.a.s.m scale is a myth.”
”Then why not lower the scale?”
”Please,” she insisted with a haughty look only a woman confident in her s.e.xual worth could pull off. ”Why would I lower my standards?”
Good point. Jesse grinned. It was a challenge he couldn't resist.
He leaned over and took her mouth with his.
And lost himself in the dark delight she offered. Pure s.e.x, with that underlying sweet humor. She was his ultimate fantasy. When she sucked his tongue into her mouth, Jesse realized his fantasies were about to upgrade.
Audra's fingers brushed his skin like little electric shocks as she slipped the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt free. He nudged the elastic band of her panties aside to delight in her wet folds. When she sc.r.a.ped her fingernail over his nipple, an intense wave of desire washed over him and all thought fled.
With his fingers between her legs, his tongue working her mouth, Jesse gave himself over to a single goal. Bringing her that o.r.g.a.s.m.
”Mmm,” she moaned as he nibbled his way over the curves flowing out the top of her leather bodice. ”I am so glad you came into the club tonight.”
Club. Davey. The case. Dammit. Jesse lifted his head and blinked, shocked for some reason to realize they were still in the parking lot. A freaking parking lot, for G.o.d's sake. With a suspect of his case.
”I can't,” Jesse said with a quick breath.
With not only his virtue, but his ethics on the line, he pulled back and s.h.i.+fted Audra so she was curled in his arms. And more importantly, so she was angled so he couldn't put his hand back up her skirt.
”Can't? Babe, you're hard enough to shoot for level nine if you tried. Believe me, I have faith you can.”