Turning his truck off, he slid out and started up her walk to the back door, not quite sure what he was going to say. Just as he reached for the handle, the door opened and there she stood, in nothing but a silky, slinky black nightie thing.
His mouth went dry.
She leaned against the door where the slow, sensual spread of her sexy mouth did something entirely too dangerous to his sanity. "I wondered if you were going to sit out there all night or if you were ever going to come in."
Raith came in.
Fourteen
Willow closed her eyes as she pressed her cheek to Malloy's hot skin. His heartbeat echoed through her ear, still erratic from exerting himself. Her arms tightened as she held him.
She feared she might've had a panic attack when Camille and Dylan had stood up to leave. She wanted to grab them back and make them stay longer. Forever. She loved those two. They were her closest friends. And when they moved, she was going to feel as empty as her house was.
But Malloy had saved her from having to think about that tonight. Her heart had skipped a little beat when she'd noticed his truck parked across the street as she'd walked the Taggarts outside and waved them off. Her guests finally gone, she'd turned and hurried in, hustling straight to the bedroom, where she yanked a new piece of lingerie she'd bought earlier that very day out of her top drawer.
She slithered into it and was pacing her house, wondering if he was actually going to come knocking or not. If he hadn't showed up in another two minutes, she probably would've walked out to him, through the blistering cold and still wearing her nightie. She'd never been as relieved as when she'd finally spotted him strolling up the back walkway.
After she'd invited him in, they'd only made it five feet to the kitchen table. Glad she'd cleaned it already after supper, she wiggled a little under Malloy, trying to un-stick her butt from the surface of the tabletop.
Malloy lifted his head. "I'm starving," he said, though his eyes were heavy and tired as if he'd been about to pass out on top of her.
Willow chuckled as they both sat upright. Still feeling soft toward him for her little gift in the living room and for showing up just when she needed company, she leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. "There's leftover fettuccini alfredo in the fridge."
His stomach growled in response, but his eyes shot her a confused look as if he couldn't understand her sweet attitude.
The kiss was still tingling her lips, so she wondered if he could feel the impression of her mouth against his as well. It'd been a simple, dry kiss but the sensation that rippled through her left her breathless. She had a feeling he'd been similarly struck because he'd swayed forward as she pulled away.
Lifting his lashes, he eyed her curiously, probably wondering what he'd done to receive such loving treatment.
"Thank you for the gift," she murmured, the tops of her cheeks lighting with so much color she damn near glowed with happiness.
His eyelashes fluttered with confusion. "What gift?"
Her smile froze. "The figurine," she reminded him.
He shook his head slowly. "You lost me."
"The cop statue," she said with a little more force, her body going rigid and her eyes frosting with displeasure. How could he forget? "You left a figurine of a police officer in my living room."
A prickle of unease rippled up the back of her neck when his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sliding off the table and onto his feet, he said, "Show me."
Willow blinked, uncomfortable about the direction of this conversation. "But—"
"Where is it?" he cut in, his voice a little too hard, which only made her scowl.
"It's on the end table by the couch."
Brushing past her, Raith headed that way. He paused as soon as he reached the front room. Blindly, he turned, scanning all the knick-knacks on the two tables sitting on either side of her sofa.
"It's right here," Willow told him, coming in behind him and moving around him to reach for the statuette.
Raith caught her hand before she could actually touch it, startling her.
"What—"
"When did you notice it?" He crouched in front of the object and studied it with a trained eye.
"I didn't," Willow explained, setting her hands on her hips. "Camille did tonight when she and Dylan came over. Why? What's going on?"
Malloy shook his head. "I didn't give this to you."
"But..." She looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "It had to be you," she finally sputtered. "Who else would..." She pointed at the figurine, totally confused.
Slowly pushing to his feet, Raith eyed her soberly. "Someone who knows about us, I'd say."
Denying his reasonable suggestion, she merely swung her head from side to side. "It had to be you," she insisted. "I mean, I... I just gave you thank you sex for it."
He grinned. "Too bad you can't take that back."
DeVane blew out an incredulous sound. "Stop messing with me, Malloy. It had to be you. Now quit denying it."
Raith frowned at the object on her end table as if it might be toxic. "How positive are you about turning your kitchen light off last night before you went to bed?"
"A hundred percent," she said, frowning at him with irritation that he'd dare doubt her. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Jaw going hard, he took her hand and tugged her protectively close. "Walk me though the house. Tell me if everything else is as it should be."
But Willow, being Willow, resisted. Pulling to a stubborn stop, she scowled at him. "Just what do you think happened, Malloy?"
He could only shake his head again. "I don't know. But something didn't feel right when I came in last night."
She arched an incredulous brow. "Come again?"
He glowered at her. "I haven't been a deputy for seventeen years without leaning to trust my instincts. And my instincts said something was off when I walked through your back door last night."
"Off how?" Willow prodded.
He sent her a sour look. "I don't know. Like someone had been there who shouldn't have been."
"Oh, you mean, like you?"
"I mean, like someone who came across an unlocked back door to a sexy lawyer's house and decided to stroll right on inside."
"Again," she said, "you mean, like you?"
His gaze narrowed. "I thought you said you kept the door open for friends and family. Do I not fall under that category?"
Willow lifted her eyebrows to let him know he didn't.
He growled. "Just keep your back door locked from here on out."
Sending him a hot little smile, she reached out and trailed the tip of her fingernail up his chest. "But if I do that, how will you get inside to treat me to another late night visit?"
He grabbed her hand, letting her know he wasn't kidding around. Keeping his fingers wrapped securely around hers, he answered. "I'll knock. And any family member of yours who wants to come inside can damn well learn to knock too."
"You know," she murmured, hoping to change the tenor of their conversation because he was being totally ridiculous. Cops were definitely a paranoid lot. "This whole macho protective man thing you have going on is kind of hot. I feel all tingly and warm."
As if flipping a switch, his moody scowl changed. Eyes heating with desire, he tightened his grip on her hand and tugged her close. "Good. Because I'm ready to go again." Tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, he carted her toward her bedroom.
Her body humming with anticipation, Willow let him.
~ * ~
Raith woke to the blaring of DeVane's blow dryer. He rolled over,
checked the time and cursed. After crawling out of bed, he found his pants and yanked them on. Limping his way to the opened bathroom door, he winced into the bright interior and paused in the entrance, leaning a shoulder against the frame.
"Why didn't you wake me?" He yawned and rubbed a hand over his beard stubble, but his fingers stumbled to a stop when he saw what she wore.
She glanced his way and continued to dry her hair. Head tilted down to the side as she ran her bare fingers through the auburn locks, she sported nothing but a black demi-bra and a lacy pair of French-cut panties to match.
"You didn't need to get up early yesterday," she said over the running motor. "I assumed you wouldn't need to today either."
Raith skimmed his gaze down her long, lean length. "I always wondered what you wore under those fancy power suits."
DeVane sent him an irritated look as she shut off the dryer. "Did you not hear the alarm clock?" she asked. "God, Malloy. I even hit snooze twice."
He moved another foot into the bathroom so he could check out her backside. When he realized the French cut was actually a thong, his eyebrow quirked with interest.
"Malloy?" she snapped.
"Hmm?" His eyes reluctantly lifted to her face. She hadn't put makeup on yet, and she still looked amazing. Face paint didn't heighten this woman's beauty. It merely made her appear untouchable. But with naked cheeks, she seemed infinitely more... touchable. Realizing she'd been trying to have a conversation with him, he finally cleared his throat and focused on what she'd been saying.
"Alarm clocks never worked for me."
After a bewildered blink, she frowned. "And yet you woke instantly when Dylan stopped by."
He shrugged, not wanting to explain. Besides, who could explain a cop thing? He could sleep like the dead, never hearing crying babies, a blaring television or music thumping. But let someone step over the line of the law and he was on full alert. He'd never quite been able to understand it himself, so he didn't even try illuminating it to DeVane.
"Do you always wear this kind of stuff under those touch-me-not outfits of yours?" He had to know. Or was she just making a special effort because he was around?
DeVane glanced down at her current state of dress, her eyebrows wrinkling in confusion. "What's wrong with my underwear?"
"Not a damn thing," he answered and stepped toward her. But there must've been a bit too much heat in his gaze because she immediately backed away and held up a hand.
"Oh, no you don't," she commanded. "I'm all cleaned up and ready to go to work. Just stay back."
"I won't mess up your hair. I promise."
Though her eyes dilated and her body shivered when he reached out to touch her, barely skimming his knuckles over her abdomen, she jerked back and slapped his hand away.
"Uh, uh," she said. "Out. Now, Malloy. I have to go to work. There'll be no hanky-panky this morning."
He scowled but scooted reluctantly and painfully out the door. He had to leave too, but he'd gladly be late for a hot, wild quickie with DeVane.
"Your loss," he offered, flashing her a heated, I-know-you-want-to grin.
When she shut the door in his face as if she needed to get him away before she was successfully tempted, he laughed.
But still… damn.
Readjusting his suddenly too-tight pants, Raith realized DeVane had never denied him sex before. He didn't like it. He wanted to plow through that door and take her against the bathroom vanity. Then he wanted to drag her into the shower with him and take her in there too.
Practicing restraint, he tugged the rest of his clothes on.
Slipping on his boots, he retreated toward the kitchen, where he paused to check her refrigerator because his stomach growled. When he caught sight of her carton of milk, he reached in. Drinking straight from the container, he gulped until DeVane walked in.
She jerked to a stop. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"
He lowered the carton, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and arched his eyebrows. "What?"
"Don't drink my milk straight from the container."
Raith just looked at her. He made a face when he found her dressed in a skirt, blouse, jacket, pantyhose, and high heels. Disappointed she'd returned to untouchable mode, he growled, "That... container... has been sitting in the fridge untouched for three days straight. I'm the one who finally opened it yesterday and it was at the same level this morning as it was when I put it up yesterday. So obviously, I'm the only one who uses it. What's the big deal?"
"I use it to cook with sometimes." She gave him a pouting look as he put the milk away. "Now I'm going to have your icky germs in my food."
Raith shut the refrigerator door and swaggered toward her. "Honey, if you don't already have my germs then something is seriously wrong."
He stopped right in front of her and glanced at her outfit. She looked like the ideal woman lawyer with her briefcase held down at her side. Her starched white blouse and camel-colored suit jacket with a matching long tight skirt screamed professional tight-ass until he lowered his eyes and saw into the gap of her blouse where her lacy black bra peeked up at him. Instantly, his body grew hot and heavy.
"You know," he drawled, lifting a finger to trace the neckline of her too-white blouse. "Every time I see you in this lawyer garb, I just want to mess it up."
Willow lifted her face; he saw her nostrils flare with awareness.
"I already told you, Malloy. I have to go to work."
"So do I," he retorted.
Hell, he still had to go home, take a shower, put on his uniform— which took twice as long as putting on regular street clothes—and then go to work.
Seeing the determined look in his eyes, DeVane stepped in reverse until her back met the wall. "Malloy—" she started, but he cut her off with his mouth.
Trapping her against the wall with his body, he set his hands against the sheetrock on either side of her head and lowered his mouth to hers. She lifted her face to meet the kiss. Taking that as a cue to proceed, he slid his palms down until he reached waist level. Then his fingers deserted the wall and sought her hips. They kept traveling down until they found the hem of her skirt.
Gathering the material up, he sucked in a breath when he cupped her bare ass. Good God, she wasn't wearing full pantyhose, but thigh highs. His undoing came with the realization that the only thing keeping him from her hot center was a damp pair of flimsy lace thong panties.
Raith leaned against her, pinning her in place. She gasped against his mouth and dropped her briefcase to wrap her arms around his neck. One long leg looped his hip, the heel of her shoe stabbing him in the back of the trousers.
Relishing the pain, he fumbled with one hand to release his zipper. Before he pushed his jeans down, he rescued a condom from his pocket. Tugging it on in seconds, he snapped the narrow crotch of her panties a heartbeat later.
Both faces lowered, Raith and Willow watched him nudge her entrance. She gasped and threw her head back, bumping it against the wall. He lifted a hand and sifted it through her hair to the back of her skull as if to soothe the pain, but he never took his eyes off himself as he slowly pushed inside. To assist, Willow hitched a foot onto the top of her kitchen table, opening her thighs wider for him.
Raith groaned and sank home. Finally, he lifted his face to gauge her reaction and felt the immediate punch of male satisfaction when he saw her suck her bottom lip in between her teeth while her eyes dilated. As if he had all the time in the world, he slowly began to love her. She whimpered and clenched her fingers into his shirt, raking him with her nails.
Air puffing from her lungs in labored ecstasy, she cracked her eyes open and skewered him with a look. "Damn it, Malloy. You know I don't have time for this."
He gave her a slow smile. "Want me to stop?" He halted suddenly.
She growled. "God, no. Don't stop. Don't stop. Just hurry."
He didn't. Not for a good, long while. Instead, he drove her absolutely mad with his leisurely pace, needing to punish her for rejecting him in the bathroom, needing control of something between them because he'd lost control of his heart days ago. But it felt so damn good, he found himself beginning to rush.
She came first, as was his plan. He'd wanted to make it last, make her orgasm stretch on and on until she begged him to remain inside her forever... until she went totally wild in his arms
and started spouting out crazy shit, like she loved him or something. He wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish. He just wanted to prove she couldn't ever deny him.
But when she tightened around him, he couldn't hold back. She was so glorious to watch, he threw back his head and shouted out his own release.
Afterward, he buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent. Panting, they held each other until she squirmed under him. "Gotta go to work," came her muffled voice.
He wanted to deny her, to keep her here in his arms for the rest of the day. But he pulled back instead. She sank to the floor and sat there, letting out a long satisfied sigh.