Page 30 of Silverstorm

In less than half a minute he was back, not stopping to wonder why she had a box of condoms, instead applauding her forethought, because without it, they wouldn’t get any further tonight. He was a stickler for safety, and it seemed so was she. He knelt and sheathed himself, then smiled at her as she reached up to grab him by the neck.

“I’ve never watched a man put on a condom before. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” she purred.

“Really?” He had no time to ponder her statement, as she slowly opened her legs for him, hooking one knee around his waist, and he lost all logical thought. She wanted him, and he needed her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

He pushed inside her, and her eyes slid closed as she welcomed him in. Then she opened them again as he began to rock against her. They moved together, a little faster, a little deeper, and he watched her, listening to her moans of delight, which were driving him too quickly toward the edge.

He gritted his jaw, not wanting to go without her. Her eyes were so dark, they were like pools of molasses, and her gasps became louder as she lifted her hips to his every thrust.

She came so suddenly, he almost missed it as she cried out his name, and he let himself tumble over the cliff with her, sparks of sensation like pricks of electricity going off all over his body.

He levered himself to the floor and sorted out his condom with the box of tissues he’d also snaffled from her bedside table. Then he draped himself beside her on the couch, letting her snuggle into him. She kissed him, her eyes closed, and he luxuriated in her touch, in the feel of her small hand resting possessively on his abs. Their breathing slowed to normal, and they lay together, entwined. Now that he had time to think about anything else besides Aria, he felt the cold nip of air against his bare skin.

“It’d be much warmer in bed,” she suggested, as if reading his mind.

“Your wish is my command,” he said, lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the bedroom as she giggled and clung to his neck. She was light as a feather, her skin hot against his.

They made love again in bed, this time slowly, languidly, awakening each other with their hands and tongues and bodies. This time he had more control, and now he was beginning to understand her signs, he waited until she was close before letting his own climax build. He didn’t want to question this night, merely accept it for what it was. If this was to be their only time together, then he needed to treasure it. Push aside all thoughts of dead sisters and a group of killers prowling the hillsides. But he really, really hoped there would be more… Because he knew once wouldn’t be enough with this woman.

Later still, she pulled the sheet away from his body. “I want you to stay perfectly still,” she commanded. “I want to taste you.” She explored his whole body with her fingertips and her tongue. He shivered with anticipation, not sure if he’d be able to lie motionless when her touch seared him like a brand wherever she went.

She started at his feet, and quickly finding the scar on his calf, she asked, “When did this happen?”

“Earlier this year. Around five months ago. I was involved in a shoot-out trying to protect Penny and Clayton.”

“Wow.” Her mouth formed a circle of surprise, then she leaned in and kissed the scar. “So brave.”

“Not brave, just doing my job.”

“Brave,” she proclaimed, biting his thigh with her teeth. “Not too many people would put themselves in danger to save someone else, whether it was their job or not.”

He shrugged.

She continued to explore his body with her tongue. “What’s this scar?” she asked, stopping her excruciating investigation when she got to a ragged mark halfway up his left thigh.

“Fell off my bicycle when I was twelve,” he replied, then grunted as she sucked the scar gently, her tongue doing lazy circles around the spot, moving slowly higher and higher. Much to his disappointment, she skipped over his crotch, and continued her inspection to where the trail of hair arrowed down from his belly button. She was setting him on fire with her wicked tongue and it was all he could do not to roll her over and plunge deep inside her.

“And this one?” she asked as she found the next scar, just above his left pectoral.

“Sliced with a knife while I was trying to arrest a man who was drunk and disorderly,” he ground out between clenched teeth, his blood pounding so hard in his veins he could barely talk.

“Your body has quite a story to tell,” she said quietly. Lifting her head, she stared at him and he could see her eyes glisten in the dim light.

“There’s so much I don’t know about you,” she said, and he heard the hint of wistfulness in her tone. “So much we don’t know about each other. So much you don’t know about me,” she clarified; then she lowered her head to his chest so he could no longer make out her expression.

It was true, he realized. They’d really only met four days ago. But it felt like a lifetime. He had no idea how she really felt about what they’d just done. Had it been as intense for her as it had for him? Had the intensity shocked her, or had he just imagined that look of awe on her face earlier as they both climaxed together?

“I’d like to find out more about you, if you’ll let me,” he said, catching a handful of her glorious hair and dragging her mouth up to his so he could kiss her and look into her eyes.

“Maybe when this is all over…” Her face took on a sort of faraway, slightly sad look. Then she seemed to come back to herself. “But we still have tonight, let’s not waste it.” Her mouth met his, hot and demanding, and he forgot all about what might happen tomorrow, wholeheartedly agreeing with taking what was on offer in the here and now.

The third time they made love, she took control, taking the condom from his hand and rolling it on him herself, slowly, with agonizingly nimble fingers. Then she pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him, her hair falling over her shoulders and breasts as they moved to an ever-increasing rhythm.

They stared into each other’s eyes while they made love, and it felt like he was staring right into her soul. Which scared him a little. Because he didn’t know if he was ready to bare his soul to this woman. Or if she was, either.

Finally, they fell into an exhausted sleep, tangled in each other’s arms. Jude had to be at work early in the morning, but for those few, short, sweet hours they had left, he cradled her body protectively and let the soothing rise and fall of her chest lull him to sleep.

Barely two hours later, he was jarred awake by a god-awful banging on the door. It was still dark when he jerked upright, cursing himself that he’d been stupid enough to leave his weapon in the living room, out of reach.

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