Page 20 of Nautier and Wilder


  His fingers were on hers and she hadn’t even realized he was behind her.

  “Mind if I drive?”

  She tilted her head back. “Is this a male thing? You can’t stand to let a woman drive you?”

  “No, it’s an ‘I want to get my hands on your engine’ thing.”

  She turned around and cocked a brow. “Is that a euphemism for sex?”

  “Well, it wasn’t, but now that you mention it . . .”

  She laughed and dropped the keys in his hand. “One scratch and you pay for it, and this baby’s a classic.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  He started up the Chevelle, and Elena watched as he closed his eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shhh. . . . I’m listening to her purr.”

  “Stop that or I’ll get jealous.”

  His lips curved and he put the car in gear and drove off, giving the car just enough gas to make the ride a thrill. As she suspected, he didn’t take her right home, instead drove north, taking them for a ride parallel to the shore. The night was cool, but the windows were down, the car was rocking and she was with a man who knew exactly what to do when he manhandled all the horsepower of the Chevelle. He let her loose and pressed on the gas and they went flying.

  For the first time in as long as she could remember, Elena sat back and let someone else do the driving. She enjoyed every minute of the wind in her hair, the salty smack of ocean breeze on her face and the beauty of a man’s chiseled features in the driver’s seat.

  He pulled in front of an empty stretch of beach and parked, leaving the radio tuned in to the oldies station.

  She took off her seat belt and half turned to face him. “This is very sixties, park and make out.”

  He turned and put his arm over the seat. “Really? I thought you’d never ask.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, except for the bucket seats.”

  He cast his gaze behind him. “These bucket seats are plenty big enough.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “You never made out in the car?”

  “No.”

  “What a shame. This is a great make-out car.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to go to my place?”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure, Elena?”

  “My mother lives the life of adventure. I’m more into being normal.”

  “You mentioned your mother before. What’s up with her?”

  “She’s a leftover hippie from the sixties who never grew up.”

  He nodded, and reached for a strand of her hair that had fallen over her shoulder. “I see. And you’re the staid, grounded polar opposite of your mother.”

  “Exactly.”

  He leaned over and swept his hand behind her head, cupping the nape of her neck. “I’m going to kiss you now. In your car, right here on the beach.”

  His breath swept across her cheek, and her lips parted. He pressed his mouth to hers—a soft, gentle kiss that made her breath catch, made her want more. She reached for him, pulling at his shirt to draw him closer, wanting to feel his warmth, his body against hers.

  He dragged her across the seat to his side of the car. Suddenly she was straddling his lap, and the kiss had deepened.

  This was so not her. She did not make out with men in the front seat of a Chevelle. On the beach, no less. No, she was boring and predictable. Men brought her home and they had a glass of wine and conversation, and then they kissed and moved into the bedroom, where they had . . .

  Boring, predictable sex, whereas Jed was rocking her ever-loving world right now. His fingers dove into her hair, removing the barrette she’d put into her hair to hold it back. He rested his hand on her neck while he kissed her, and she could feel her pulse pounding against his fingers. All she could think about was his mouth and his tongue and how amazingly talented he was at deep, soulful kisses. She laid her hands on his shoulders, and wow, he was just solid muscle everywhere.

  He swept his hands down her back and she shivered. He lifted his lips from hers and the goose bumps intensified at the blatant desire reflected in the dark blue of his eyes.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, but do you really think we should be doing this here?”

  There went that smile again. Cocky, self-assured. “Where do you think we should be doing this?”

  “My apartment.”

  He swept his thumb across her bottom lip. “You like to play it safe.”

  “And you’re just a little dangerous.”

  He moved his hands down the sides of her rib cage and let them rest on her hips. “So if you’ve never made out in your car, you’ve probably never had sex in it, either.”

  The thought of it, the images it evoked, were more than her already fried brain could handle. “No.”

  He squeezed the flesh of her hips, and she bit back a moan. When he started to raise her dress, her panties went damp, and her body undulated against him. A total involuntary response to being on top of a very hot—and very hard—male.

  His lips quirked. He lifted against her, his erection pressing against her sex. “I could make you come without even undressing you, Elena. You’d be perfectly safe.”

  Her lips parted and she let out a soft gasp. How long had it been since she’d had an orgasm? A while, and too damn long for one that hadn’t been self-induced. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “You don’t like sex?” His fingers played along the hem of her dress, sliding an inch or so underneath.

  She swallowed, her throat gone dry. “I like sex just fine.”

  He kept his focus on her face as his fingers continued to dance upward, along the front of her thigh, then inward. “Fine? Oh, sex needs to be more than fine. It needs to be great. Awesome. The best damn thing you’ve ever had.”

  His thumb teased the edge of her panties, sliding so near her pussy she thought she was going to die. Her muscles were so tense her legs trembled.

  “Hold onto my shoulders, Elena, and let me,” he said, keeping that contact with her eyes as his fingers slipped inside her panties.

  She gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders.

  Jed’s lips curved and his eyes went dark. “Yeah, like that.”

  His hand was warm despite the breeze blowing in through the car windows. Her nipples were aching, throbbing tight points of need. She wanted him to suck them into his mouth and make her scream, but she couldn’t form words because his hand was inside her panties.

  “You’re hot here, Elena. And wet.”

  She rose against his hand, not sure whether she wanted to escape or grind against him. Her pussy quivered, her clit a tight knot of nerve endings so close to bursting it was embarrassing. She licked her lips and his hot gaze watched every movement of her tongue, making her wish they were naked and sprawled out on her bed so she could taste every square inch of him. She wanted to lick his skin, to feel his cock in her mouth.

  And when he slid a finger inside her, she whimpered.

  “You need to come. Your pussy is tight around me, trembling. You want me to make you come, Elena, right here on the beach, in your car?”

  She fought through the rising haze of need and desire to nod her head.

  He pulled his finger out and used her moisture to coat her aching clit.

  “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen for you.”

  She had to swallow to coat her parched throat. Her heart thrummed and beat so hard she was afraid it was going to explode.

  “Touch me. Make me come.”

  He drew her head down to his, kissed her and cupped her sex with his big, hot hand,
his fingers tucking inside her pussy at the same time he ground the heel of his hand against her clit.

  A fiery explosion of sensation burst inside her. She moaned against his lips, sucked on his tongue and came, rocking against his hand. He shoved his fingers inside her harder and she rode them, feeling every thread of her orgasm in every part of her body. It made her light-headed and giddy and it felt so damn good she never wanted it to end.

  Jed took her down easy, kissing her lightly, licking at her lips and rubbing gently at her pussy until she felt like she could breathe again. When he removed his fingers, he licked them, his gaze riveted to hers. She shuddered and sat down on him. He was hard as stone, reminding her that only one of them had been satisfied.

  He looked at her, smiled at her, the heat still evident in his eyes.

  But he lifted her and put her back in the passenger seat and started up the car.

  “Jed. We’re not finished.”

  He slanted a grin her way. “No, we’re not. But I’m not going to push my luck by lingering out here too long.”

  He drove them back to his condo and got out, opened the door and came around to her side to open the door for her.

  He wasn’t going to come to her apartment. She didn’t understand.

  Before she could say anything, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply, then pulled away with a smile on his face.

  “I’m going to smell you on me all night, remember what you looked like when you came.”

  Her nipples tingled. She laid her hands on his chest. “We’re not finished here.”

  “No, we’re not, Elena. We’re just getting started.”

  * * *

  The first thing Jed did after he got back to his condo was check on Elena’s place using his surveillance equipment. Everything was locked up tight. He watched her use her alarm code to get in and rearm it once she was inside.

  Her apartment was clear, too, and when he ran through the tapes of the area from when they were gone, nothing came up.

  He undressed, turned off the lights and got into bed, staring up at the ceiling. The crash of the waves outside didn’t help him drift off to sleep. Nothing would, since his cock was throbbing and his balls ached.

  He could have taken Elena home and gone upstairs to her apartment. She wouldn’t have balked. He’d seen her look of surprise when he’d driven to his condo instead. But something stopped him.

  He didn’t want to push things with her, didn’t want her to think he was only after sex.

  What a joke. This wasn’t a relationship. This was an assignment. He wasn’t dating her, for Christ’s sake. Once Grange found Elena’s mother, he was outta here. So what the fuck did he think he was doing? He was supposed to stick close. Sleeping with her was as close as he could get, even if it wasn’t part of the assignment.

  He got out of bed and stared at the laptop, watching Elena in bed.

  What a sick voyeur he was. She was asleep, the covers pulled up over her.

  He could be in bed with her right now. And she wouldn’t be sleeping.

  He didn’t need to be a nice guy. He hadn’t been a nice guy earlier when he’d had his fingers inside her.

  God, she’d been hot and wet and smelled so damn good. His dick had been pounding so hard he was surprised he hadn’t come in his pants. He wanted to be inside her so bad he’d ached with it.

  He still wanted it. His cock was hard, throbbing, demanding release.

  He walked away from the image of her sleeping and lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and thought about Elena, her sweet body writhing on top of his as she came.

  He fisted his cock and squeezed, stroked it slow and easy, imagining her delicate hands surrounding the shaft as she sat next to him, her lips parted as they’d been earlier tonight when she’d been so hot and turned on. She’d kept the connection between them, left her eyes open while he’d slid his fingers inside her and made her come.

  He brought his hand up, let his thumb slide over the crest of his cock. Fluid spilled from the tip and he swept it over the head. He ached, his balls tightening. He was so primed, so pumped with the need to let go that he could come right now. Images of Elena arching against him pummeled his senses as he got a stranglehold on his cock and pumped it up and down, wondering what it would feel like to have Elena’s hot, sweet mouth sliding over the head of his dick.

  He groaned, arched his hips and propelled his cock into his fist. Her mouth would suction over the head, tight and wet, her tongue swirling over him as she took him in, inch by inch, sucking him deeper until she had a mouthful of him.

  He wanted to grab her by the back of the head and feed her his cock, pump against her tongue, feel the soft velvet rasp of it as she squeezed his dick with her mouth until he couldn’t take it anymore, until he was ready to shoot his load right into her willing mouth.

  “Fuck!” He let go, thoughts of Elena sucking him prominent in his mind as he shot come all over his stomach.

  He went to the bathroom to clean up and came back, doing one more check on her. She had rolled over and kicked off the blanket, showing off her fine ass covered only by a pair of black panties.

  Dammit, he was going to have to stop looking at her or he’d get hard again.

  And then he’d never get any sleep tonight.

  SEVEN

  It was a joy to reopen the store the next day. Elena’s regular customers came in by the droves to check on her and make sure she was all right and that the store hadn’t suffered too much damage after the burglary. Really, they came to gawk and gossip, which was fine by her. She loved her clients, and she and Marco enjoyed catering to them, because they typically bought a lot.

  They didn’t disappoint today, either, obviously thinking she’d been robbed blind and would be out of business within a week if they didn’t help her out. Who was she to tell them otherwise? She couldn’t think of a single client who hadn’t left the store with something.

  Business was booming today. She should get burglarized more often.

  Okay, maybe not.

  She hadn’t seen Jed today, or heard from him. Not that she missed him—much. But after last night’s incendiary interlude in her car, followed by his quick exit, she wasn’t sure what the next step was going to be.

  Then again, he did give her a hot kiss good-bye. But he hadn’t called her last night. Or this morning. Or showed up.

  She rolled her eyes. He had a job, a new business that he was trying to get off the ground, and a pocket full of business cards from the meeting last night. He was probably on the phone or in person marketing those contacts today, like he should be. And since when was she so interested in a guy?

  She’d always vowed never to let a man become front and center in her life. That was her mother, not her. Her mother chased men, chased dreams like they were wisps of smoke. Elena’s life was her business and staying grounded in reality.

  She was never going to follow love. She would never become her mother.

  Work settled down after three. Marco had a doctor’s appointment, so she sent him off for the day. The shop stayed fairly busy until about an hour before closing when she finally grabbed something to eat and had a chance to sit down behind the counter. She nibbled on some fruit and cheese, then went to work on the day’s receipts while she had a few quiet moments.

  She figured it was going to be a slow last hour, unlike the rest of the day, giving her time to catch up, when the door chime signaled. She looked up and two men came in. Biker types in leather chaps and jackets. She came around the counter and headed toward them.

  “Hi, can I help you?”

  They split the counters, one going one way, the other the opposite direction. Neither said anything, or even looked at her, just observed the art on the walls and the sculptures s
cattered around the shop.

  Her radar went up immediately. She took a step back and let them observe. Not everyone was a talker. They were probably just in there to browse.

  She stood by, hands clasped behind her back, when one of them lifted his head. “Tell me about this.”

  He was referring to the glass wave sculpture in the case. “Sure.” She came over to the case. “This piece was made by one of our local artists. She’s very popular for her use of a mix of colors.”

  “Let me see it.”

  “All right.” She went behind the counter and unlocked the cabinet, conscious of the man’s friend on the other side of the counter.

  These guys made her nervous. Not because they were bikers, but because of their demeanor. She wished Marco were here to help her keep an eye on them.

  She placed the thick velvet presentation mat on the counter, then deftly pulled the piece out of the cabinet and laid it on the overlay.

  “As you can see, it’s quite spectacular.”

  “Uh-huh. How much?”

  “Eight hundred.”

  He didn’t look up at her, didn’t blink, didn’t balk at the price. She half turned to see what the other guy was doing. He was inching closer to the front door at a very slow pace, still not making eye contact.

  She didn’t like this. Her stomach knotted. She needed her phone. She suddenly wanted to call Jed.

  She kept her focus on the guy moving toward her front door. “Are you interested in this piece, or can I show you something else?”

  “Show me something else,” the guy said.

  Reluctantly, she turned her gaze back to the customer. “All right. What would you like to see?”

  “This one.”

  She tucked the glass piece to the side, ready to smash it and use the shards as a weapon if need be. She pulled out the shell.

  That’s when she heard the distinct click of the lock at her front door. Her gaze snapped to the man at the door. “Hey!”

  She dove for the glass and came out with it in her hand, ready to break it over the counter and stab the asshole nearest her.