They shuffled, minds working within a shared desire, shifting farther onto the bed. His hands were all over her, moving up her blouse, flat on her bare skin. “Take this off,” he said hoarsely.
“Okay,” she whispered, “but you too. Take yours off.” On second thought, “Take it all off.”
He stared down at her, their eyes locking and holding. She felt a connection then, something that made her aroused from head to toe, but it was so much deeper than just physical. Or was it? Could they have an attraction so potent that a mere stare could make her sizzle from head to toe?
She could hardly catch her breath. What she felt, so raw and alive, scared her, made her feel out of control. Desperate to gain control, trying to break the spell that was taking it, she said, “Get undressed.”
His gaze narrowed a moment, as if he knew what she was doing, but he didn’t argue. He pushed to his knees and started unbuttoning his shirt. She sat up and pulled her shirt over her head as he tossed his aside . . . She stared at the perfection of his broad chest, the sprinkling of light brown hair, and perfect biceps, with admiration.
She wet her lips, feeling the urgency to explore, to touch, to feel. But he moved. She wanted to reach for him, but he pushed off the bed. Before she could complain, he halted her words, as he bent and took off his shoes. She liked the direction this was going. Her boots were gone in mere seconds, tossed to the floor, and drawing laughter from Mark.
He smiled. “Don’t stop there.”
“You either,” she said, smiling through the heat of desire, wanting to say, Be fast about it. Instead, she quickly slid her pants down her legs, leaving her panties in place.
She looked up to find him gloriously naked, and . . . hard. Swallowing took effort. He was gorgeous. Leaning back on her palms she watched as his knees hit the mattress. He stayed that way, gently urging her legs apart. His eyes dropped to her legs, and slowly moved to the center and settled on the tiny piece of lace. Then, on the move again, they traveled up her stomach, and to her breasts.
When his eyes finally settled on hers, she was wet with desire, feeling as if she had been completely, seductively touched. “You are so beautiful,” he said, with obvious arousal etching his low voice.
His palms, which still rested on her knees, began to move, sliding up her thighs in a seductive caress. When his hands reached the top of her legs, her slid his thumbs on her inner thighs, moving them so that they brushed the silk covering. The effect was like a jolt of pleasure dancing along each and every nerve ending of her body.
“Mark,” she whispered. He looked at her. “Please come here.”
“Not yet,” he said, his thumbs stroking her panties, and then dipping beneath to touch her sensitive core. Then he bent, taking her off guard as his lips pressed on her stomach. She fell back on the mattress, letting the soft cushion absorb the impact of her body, hands going to his hair just as his tongue dipped into her navel. At the same moment, his hands went to her panties, pulling them over her hips and down her legs. She kicked them off as his mouth traveled upward, mouth closing over her bra, teeth scraping her nipple through the lace even as his fingers popped the front clasp.
Moments later his hands were covering her breasts, his lips pressing to hers. All her promises to control how they came together were gone. She was lost in him, begging for more, unable to stop herself. Her body arched into his, his arousal nuzzling her thighs, his fingers pinching her nipples until she whimpered into his mouth.
His lips trailed along her jaw, to her ear. “You make me crazy, Lindsey,” he whispered.
She made a sound of pleasure as he nipped her lobe. “You’re making me crazy.”
He moved so that his lips lingered just above hers. “Good,” he said, and his eyes locked with hers. “Then we’re even.”
Something about the way he said the words made her hand go to his cheek. “What?” She blinked, trying to clear her passion-fogged mind.
“You and me,” he said. “We’re even. I want you. You want me.”
It was as if he sensed her need to have some semblance of control. “Yes,” she said. “I want you.”
“And I want you, Lindsey.” His words were packed with emotion. “Very much. From the first moment I met you.”
“You did?”
“I did,” he said, the air around them heavy with their breathing, their desire, their shared emotions.
In that moment, she wanted to share her feelings. Wanted him to know what he did to her. In that moment, thoughts of later, of control, of beyond that moment simply didn’t exist. “I wanted you, too.”
His lips brushed hers in a soft, delicate caress. “And now?” he asked. “Do you want me?”
Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks, and then lifted. “You know I do.”
One of his hands moved to her hair, and his other slid to his erection. He slid it along her wet, sensitive flesh, drawing a whimper, then a sigh. Her eyes fluttered shut, as he teased them both, sliding his hard length back and forth like a sensual game of pleasure. One that built need and urgency, and when she thought she could take no more, he dipped the tip of his penis inside her.
His mouth covered hers, swallowing her gasp of pleasure as he slowly slid deep, until he was completely inside her, and they rested together as one. He kissed her long and deep, but slow. She clung to him, one leg moving over his, her hand going to his back.
His hips lifted and he began a slow rhythm . . . in and out, kissing her, his tongue mimicking the movement of his body. For long minutes, they clung, touched, explored with their hands, their bodies, their mouths. But then it changed. Their kisses grew hotter, deeper, and the intensity fierce. They were pressing themselves against one another as if they wanted to get beneath each other’s skin, passion gone wild, bodies moving as one, together, harder and harder, and faster and faster.
And suddenly, Lindsey was in the bittersweet climb to the top of the waterfall . . . ready to fall over the edge into satisfaction, but not wanting to let go of the moment. She called his name, arching her hips into him, as she silently begged for the moment to last.
And then it happened. The first spasm literally made her body shake, and words, even sounds, were impossible. It felt as if her body absorbed him as her own. She heard him moan, and call her name, and then he shuddered and shook. She was easing into the aftermath as he entered his moment of utter pleasure.
His head tilted back, his eyes shut.
One last lunge into her body, and he buried himself deep, his face moving to slide against hers . . . and her name whispered on his lips.
They stayed like that for long moments, pressed together, arms and legs entwined. Lindsey began to feel reality, but shoved it away. She didn’t want to think about why he felt so right or why he made her heart flutter in such a funny little way. He moved, rolling off her, but pulled her with him so that she rested on his shoulder. His arm was around her, holding her close to his side, and her hand settled in the soft hair of his chest.
And for just tonight, she wanted to pretend they were really special.
* * * * *
How long they rested, wrapped together, Mark didn’t know.
Lindsey was amazing and he wanted to hold her forever. His eyes went wide. Forever. Where the hell had that come from? He was getting way out of control, way too fast. Lindsey had him tied in knots like no other woman ever had.
She nuzzled his chest, and he found himself running his hand down her hair. “Hungry?” he asked, thinking food and a bit of distance, as much as he didn’t want it, would help him snap out of whatever spell she had him under.
“Starved,” she said, pushing herself up on her elbow so she could look at him. The movement put her bare, sexy breast directly in his line of view.
He swallowed. “If you want food, you better cover up, because it won’t take much to detour me.” Because he simply couldn’t help himself, he entwined his hand in her hair and pulled her lips to his, kissing her with slow, caressing strokes.
r /> When he tore his lips from hers, he stared at her. “Damn woman, we better go eat. I think we both might need the energy.”
She smiled at him, soft and alluringly sweet. Very unguarded, and he praised the moment. Something told him they were few and far between. “I think you might be right.”
* * * * *
Lindsey sat on the kitchen counter, wearing Mark’s shirt, and loving the way it smelled like him. And how intimate and perfect it made her feel, wearing his clothes.
Mark moved around the kitchen, pulling out plates and glasses and pushing buttons on the microwave. Deeply absorbed in his the task of heating up their take-out, he looked almost boyish. Not easy for a dominating presence like Mark.
The man was a powerhouse who walked into a room and drew attention, and even more so, respect.
“Can I do something?” Lindsey asked, smiling as his efforts. Thus far he had made her promise to let him do the work. It was as if he wanted to wait on her. Not something that seemed to fit his personality. She wanted to condemn him as just like her father, but he kept doing things that didn’t quite compute in the formula.
He gave her power where she thought he would take it.
Mark looked up from the plate he was filling, and returned her smile. “If you really want to help, you can grab the wine from the bar and fill our glasses.”
Lindsey pushed off the cabinet, happy to perform her assigned duty. A few minutes later, wine-filled glasses in hand, heading back to the kitchen, she found Mark exiting the kitchen, two plates in his hands. He motioned towards the living room with his chin. “I thought it would be nice to enjoy the view while we eat.”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded her approval. It would be very nice indeed. Fear inched into her stomach. Mark was really getting to her. Where was independent Lindsey who didn’t need or want any man? Because this Lindsey, the one following a man wearing only boxers on a sexy body into the living room, was really wanting this one.
Like beyond the night.
Lindsey sat the wine glasses on the table, and she sank to her knees. Mark put the plates on the table side by side. “Mmmm, it smells so good. I am I’m so hungry. Chicken Marsala?”
“My favorite,” he said sitting down beside her. I hope it works for you.”
“I love chicken Marsala. You did well.” Lindsey picked up a fork, and took a bite. “It’s terrific.”
“Or you’re just hungry,” Mark offered with a laugh.
Lindsey shrugged. “Maybe, but it tastes good, whatever the reason.”
They ate in compatible silence for several minutes until Lindsey turned to study him. “Can I ask you something kind of personal, Mark?”
He laughed. “Well, I’d say we’re about as personal as two people can get, so go for it.”
Lindsey frowned. Sex wasn’t an indicator of how well two people knew each other by her book. Granted, what had passed between her and Mark had been unique, and far more moving than pure, physical lust . . . but it didn’t make them progress beyond simple possibilities.
The chance for more between them was farfetched. And getting to know him could make her like him more. A risk she would have to take, because finding out more could also could help her put things into perspective and keep her heart detached.
So, she took the plunge, and started asking questions. “Did you always know you wanted to be an attorney?”
* * * * *
Mark digested Lindsey’s question with interest. He sat his fork on the table, and looked at her, long and hard. Her question said a lot. She was close to letting down a small barrier. The very fact that she was trying to get to know him said a lot. “My father is an attorney just like yours, so I suppose some might say it was in my blood. Then again, I have a brother who’s a computer programmer, and a sister who’s a nurse.”
After several thoughtful moments, and a sip of her wine, Lindsey asked, “Did you consider other career options?”
“No, I didn’t.” And he hadn’t. Being like his father had been his dream. “Did you?”
She stared into her glass, gnawing on her bottom lip a long moment before looking at Mark again. “I guess I didn’t.”
Mark crooked his index finger under her chin. “Why do I sense that answer bothers you so much?”
Her eyes widened, and then her chin jerked slightly, her eyes averting from his. “I didn’t mean to turn this into a probe about me.”
Mark moved a little closer to her, sensing her inner turmoil, and wanting to help her calm it. He wasn’t sure what it was about Lindsey, but he felt her pain like his own. His hand moved down the back of her hair. “I’m not probing, just talking.” Perhaps exposing more of his inner workings would help her open up. “I couldn’t work with my father anymore than you could. I wanted. to be an attorney, but I learned early on that working with him was impossible.”
Her eyes focused on his, suddenly alert with interest. “You tried working with him?”
He nodded. “I did and that lasted all of thirty days. It was a disaster. I moved to Houston and worked for a firm there until your father recruited me.”
Lindsey tilted her head to the side. “Where is home?”
“Austin.”
“Has it been hard being away from your family?”
“Not really. My brother and sister are married and busy with their lives. My father, well I talk with him often enough, and see him on holidays. We have more in common than you realize, you and me. My mother is gone. She died when I was four.”
Pain flashed in her eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was for him or for her loss. Maybe both. And suddenly he wished he hadn’t brought up the subject. “How?” she whispered.
He paused, hating what came next. “Cancer,” he said softly. “Sorry. Bad subject.”
Lindsey smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She reached up and touched Mark’s jaw. “No worries. I’ve, of course, thought of his death. The other day, when I went to see him, he didn’t look good.” She seemed to fret a moment. “Do you think it is harder to lose someone you are close to or someone you, well, someone you never seem to get it right with?”
He took a sip of his wine and thought about the best way to answer her. “I don’t know, Lindsey, but if you can manage to put your relationship back together with him, this would be a good time to do it.”
A wave of emotion danced in her eyes. “The only way to make things better with him is if I live my life his way.”
Mark sat down his wine glass. “I’m not suggesting you make choices that aren’t your own. Just be careful you don’t make choices just to defy his control. You’ve had some time away, and deep down you, and you alone, know what you really want. Make him understand and accept your choices.”
Lindsey turned abruptly and tucked her knees to her body, chin on her knees. “That’s just it . . . I don’t know what I want anymore.” She eyed him. “I can’t believe I’m even telling you this.”
His fingers gently touched her cheek. He wasn’t going to comment on what she did or didn’t tell him. He was just glad she was opening up to him. “You don’t have to make decisions right this minute. Give yourself time, but give him time too. Start talking to him about why you feel like you do. The worst that can happen is he doesn’t listen.”
Lindsey looked at her, her eyes probing as they held his. “What do you want from me, Mark?”
It was a vast question that he could have answered so many ways. Simple seemed best. “Nothing you don’t offer freely.”
Her lashes dropped to her cheeks, dark circles against her perfect, ivory skin. When she opened her eyes again, fixing him in a stare, she smiled. “I’m glad I’m here tonight.”
“Me too,” he whispered, and he lowered his mouth towards hers. “I really want to make love to you again, Lindsey.” His lips lingered just above hers. “Can I?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’d like that very much.”
And his mouth covered hers, their kiss one of tenderness, passion, and pos
sibilities.
Chapter Seven
Lindsey woke to the warm feeling of Mark’s strong arms wrapped around her. Nuzzled against his shoulder and chest, his scent wrapped around her like a cozy blanket. Running her hand through his chest hair and down his flat stomach she couldn’t help the satisfied smile that settled on her lips. There was never a time she could remember feeling so perfectly wonderful nor could she remember ever wanting a man the way she did Mark.
Needing her own identity, not wanting to be defined within the confines of a relationship, it had been years since she had even been with a man. Somehow, Mark seemed different than the men in her past. Would things change when he became more comfortable with her?
Was he simply like the rest but with a better disguise?
The dull ringing of her cell phone broke into her thoughts. It was in her purse, which was still in the living room. “Damn,” she murmured as she moved to get out of the bed only to feel Mark’s arms tighten around her.
“Where are you going?” he whispered, half-asleep.
Lindsey smiled and kissed his cheek. “My phone’s ringing. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded. “Hurry back,” he murmured.
Lindsey grabbed Mark’s shirt off the floor, and pulled it over her head. The ringing had stopped, so she didn’t rush. Once in the living room, she sat down on the couch, removed her phone from her purse, and checked the caller ID.
Just as she thought, it had been Steve. Lindsey hit the callback button and he picked up in only one ring. “Listen,” he said without saying hello. “I’ve got some interesting information. There was a string of rapes in Vegas last year that fit the Hudson profile.”
“Really?” Lindsey paused, her mind racing with possibilities. “They fit the Williams profile then, too.”
A moment of silence and then, “Except they were raped, not raped and then murdered.”
At this point, Lindsey was convinced there was reason to check out the possibility of a connection. She dismissed his comment and asked, “What information can you get me?”