You Sang to Me

  “Nobody had to tell me. I was there and so were you.” He then slipped into the soft Southern voice of her centurion. “Remember?”

  Eve felt dizzy. For the first time in her life, she thought she might faint, but since there was no fainting allowed in ATF, she grabbed hold of herself, turned on her heel and strode off.

  Leyton shook his head and followed.

  Outside, he found her standing by the car and said, “Thanks for not breaking the window, hot wiring the engine and driving off.”

  “Didn’t have enough time,” she confessed, eyeing him.

  He gave her a half smile. “Been missing you, girl,” he said emotionally.

  Those four words made all of Eve’s warring emotions melt into a puddle. She had no defense against the truth she heard in his tone. “How long have you known?”

  “Just since tonight. I noticed the butterfly on your back in the weight room. It matched the one I saw Sunday night when you slipped into the bathroom to get dressed.”

  “So, you haven’t been playing me since we started working together?”

  “No darlin’, never. Seeing that butterfly at the gym almost dropped me to my knees.”

  Eve looked out into the night.

  “So, can we go somewhere and talk?”

  After a long moment of silence, she turned to him. “Yeah.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Eve had never considered how she’d respond should she ever meet the centurion again, so now that she had, she was at a loss as to how to handle it. On one level, she was ecstatic, of course. But on another level, she was admittedly wary. What would he want from her? Was it just more sex? She thought too highly of herself to be just a booty call. In her mind, the two of them had made a real connection that night, but did he feel the same way? Granted, he’d said he’d missed her, and the sincerity in his voice couldn’t be denied, but where did they stand really?

  She’d already called ahead to a hotel to book a room, and when they found it, she went inside to get the key while he waited outside in the car. The old Eve wanted to sign for two rooms, but the Oya part of her was ready to pick up where they’d left off on Sunday. The memories of what they’d shared overrode her cautious instincts, so she took the key to room 214 and went back outside to rejoin him. She justified the decision to herself by agreeing with his suggestion that they needed to talk.

  “We’re in 214,” she told him after she got back in the car.

  He held her eyes for a moment and then drove around to the parking lot.

  The suite was large. The national chain catered to the business class and had a small kitchen complete with pots, pans and dishes. There was a bedroom downstairs and another upstairs. A nice sized fireplace anchored the main area and she saw a couple of logs stacked beside it.

  “Nice place,” he said, dropping his overnight bag onto the floor. “I’ll take the bedroom down here if you want to take the one upstairs.

  “That’s fine.”

  She noted that he was watching her and seemed as uncertain as she. That made her wonder what he might be thinking and where they’d be when it came time to drive back to Detroit later that morning. “I’m going to put my bag upstairs,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  She felt his eyes on her as she climbed the stairs, but she didn’t look back.

  When she came back down he was in the kitchen going through the phone book.

  “I’m trying to find someone who’ll deliver. I’m starving.”

  She was, too. The last food she remembered was the corned beef sandwich she’d had for lunch. She took a seat on one of the kitchen stools while he called around.

  He finally found a pizza place that promised delivery in thirty minutes, so they put in their order and he put his phone away.

  “Do you want to wait in here or on the couch?”

  “Couch.” It had been a long day—from the investigation of the fire, to driving here, to chasing Crenshaw through the parking lot. She wanted a long soak in a hot tub.

  “How about a fire?” he asked. “Logs come with the price of the room. We might as well use them.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Sure.”

  So while he hunched down in front of the fireplace and lit the prefab logs with the long matches provided, she walked over and doused a few of the lights. He swung around and looked at her for a few silent seconds.

  “Can’t enjoy the fire with all the lights on,” she said.

  The dimmed lights made for an intimate setting, and only after she took her seat did she wonder if that was a good thing or not. Once he got the fire started it didn’t matter. She enjoyed the flickering shadows that filled the room.

  * * *

  He sat in one of the arm chairs next to the fire, and in the silence that followed they spent a lot of time looking at each other, but no words were exchanged. It was as if neither of them knew how to begin.

  Finally, she asked, “How’d you wind up being a centurion at the party? Did you know the organizers?”

  “No. I was working. Mayor wanted the department to keep an eye on things. You?”

  “Talked into going by my cousin. She’s a Hollywood costume designer.”

  “She make the suit?”

  Eve nodded.

  “Great job.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  He chuckled softly and said again, “Great job.” He met her eyes. “When you walked in, you were the hottest thing I’d ever seen.”

  His face and voice in the firelight were doing things to Eve’s senses she wasn’t sure she was supposed to be acknowledging this early in their conversation, but her growing attraction to him didn’t seem to care. All it wanted to do was remember his kisses, the way his hands had expertly roamed her body and the way he’d filled her. It also reminded her how sad she had felt leaving the hotel that night. “Never thought I’d see you again,” she told him in a voice as quiet as the flames.

  “Same here,” he added. “I kept telling myself not to think about you, but it hasn’t worked real well.”

  “Here either.”

  A smile played at the edges of his lips. “So, what do we do?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not going to be a booty call.”

  “Me, either.”

  She laughed. Couldn’t help it.

  “What’s so funny?” he countered with mock offense. “Men don’t want to be treated like a piece of meat, either.”

  “Yeah, right. Name one.”

  He shook his head in amusement. “You’re cold.”

  The flickering shadows showed her smile.

  Leyton doubted she knew how much he’d enjoyed her company these past few days. He’d worked with a lot of women in his career, but never one so fierce or so beautiful. She was the type of lady he wanted to wake up to every morning and come home to every night—a woman who understood why he had to put in such long hours on the job, or had to leave their bed in the middle of the night because of a fire. She got it because she lived it, too, and something inside him wanted them to live that life together. He was pretty sure he was in love with her, which didn’t make any sense because he was not the I-met-you-let’s-get-married kind of guy. He was usually cautious about starting a relationship because some women just didn’t understand the demands that working in law enforcement could place on a couple. But that wouldn’t be an issue if the partner worked in the same field. “So, do you believe we can work on something that’s more than a booty call?”

  She met his gaze and for a moment didn’t respond. He couldn’t tell whether she was trying to think of a reply or just thinking about what he’d asked.

  Finally, she said, “I do.”

  He smiled and his heart soared. “I do, too.”

  Her answering smile made him ask, “Then do you think I can come sit next to you?’

  She chuckled. “Yes, you may.”

  He came over and sat down, and when he put his arm around her, Eve felt like a teenager. Being next to him felt
so natural she snuggled closer and rested her head against his shoulder. “Better?”

  He gave her a squeeze. “Much.”

  Savoring the quiet moment and the presence and nearness of each other, they sat in front of the blazing fire. With a finger he gently lifted her chin and gazed down into her eyes. Awestruck at finding each other again filled them both, and when the kiss came, it was heaven.

  They wanted to go slow but the need had been building since their separation on Sunday, and it touched off a desire to make up for lost time. They were plunged into a greedy kissing frenzy. His lips moved over her cheeks, her jaw and her eyes, while hers sought his mouth, his throat and the lobe of his ear. Hands moved frenetically touching each other as if it might be the last time, and soon they were breathing like two runners in a race. And then it became a race to see who could get out of their clothes faster. Still kissing frantically, they snatched open buttons, dragged off shirts and undid zippers. Eve only managed to get her jeans part way down her hips before she was stopped by the searing sensations of his wicked fingers between her legs. He pulled her thong down her hips and heated her with his touch. She tried to counter by planting tiny bites along the strong cords of his neck, but his fingers were impaling her and moving with such raw rhythm her body bowed up and she groaned in heated response.

  “I’m going to love you until you can’t walk…” he promised gruffly.

  The words made her throb and tighten in response to the glorious play of his hand. Through the haze surrounding her, she set her hand against the hardness jutting against his unzipped jeans and took hold. His head fell back. Her eyes glittered with passion and satisfaction at what her rhythmic possession was doing to him, and she kept it up until he growled and stopped her hand. A loud knock on the door broke the moment. A young male voice called loudly. “You ordered a pizza!”

  They both cursed.

  Leyton slid his fingers across her damp vent and kissed her. “I’ll take care of the pizza. Meet me in the shower in two minutes.”

  * * *

  Eve had no idea how she made it up the stairs, but she did.

  The shower was the most decadent one she’d ever had. While the water poured over them, he kissed his way from the wet globes of her breasts to the nook of her navel, and then on his knees slowly treated the already swollen and pulsing gates of her soul to a shameless act of devotion. He fed greedily, thoroughly. She spread her legs wide and when his mouth took in that small kernel of flesh that made her woman, the orgasm broke her down, and she twisted and cried and came. She grabbed his shoulders for support, but he continued dallying, coaxing until she let out another strangled scream of surrender. If not for his strong hands on her waist, she would have gladly melted to the shower floor and drowned. Instead, her grinning centurion soundlessly invited her to turn and face the shower’s back wall. With his hands and his lips he prepared her again. He ran a worshipping hand down her spine and caressed the butterfly that had brought her back to him. Brushing his lips across the back of her neck, he teased his fingers over the spot he’d just prepared so lustily a moment ago, and then slid his strong hardness into her welcoming softness. She purred from the bliss. Holding her by the waist, he began to move in and out—teasing, coaxing first slowly and surely, then quickening the pace. She caught fire again. It was so good and so incredibly erotic, her orgasm exploded. The delicious contractions of her tight sheath pushed him over the edge, too, causing him to shudder and stroke and yell out his release until they both collapsed under the hot pounding spray.

  * * *

  Standing in the steam filled bathroom, he dried her while giving her long, lazy kisses. His free hand was wandering slowly over her warm damp skin, and they both knew they hadn’t had enough, but she let him continue his languid task while she basked with closed eyes, and while echoes of the orgasm pulsed softly between her thighs. “Till you can’t walk…” he whispered from behind her with his lips against the dewy edge of her neck. He reached around and filled his hands with her velvet weight and gently plucked and toyed with her nipples until she leaned back against him and moaned.

  “Come with me,” he invited, but first, he turned her to him and dropped his mouth to her breasts. Once her nipples were tight and pleading, he took her gently by the hand and led her into the bedroom.

  The moment her back touched the sheets, he silently followed her down, and they began again. He treated her to more centurion magic—seducing her, enticing her and whispering to her to let him make love to her like only he could. And she had no defense. No man had ever touched her so tenderly or so scandalously. She was more uninhibited with him than she’d been with any other, and she was the one on her knees and feeding on him. He groaned breathlessly in response to her wanton devotions and then she slid up his body, taking his swollen shaft into her and smiling down at him with sparkling eyes.

  “You like this, don’t you?’ he asked.

  She began to move. Leaning down, she whispered against his ear, “Every woman likes it with a man who does it right.”

  “Then ride on, goddess,” he invited as they kissed.

  And ride she did.

  For the rest of the night and into the morning they made love—sitting, standing, in the shower again. Eve vaguely remembered being led from the shower and laid on a blanket downstairs in front of the fire. There in the dark, he made orgasms pour out of her like the river Nile and only then did they crawl into bed.

  Spooned against him and with his arm holding her close, she chuckled, “Good thing this place had two beds,” she chuckled.

  He brushed his lips against her bare shoulder. “I couldn’t walk back upstairs if somebody paid me a million dollars.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  He ran a hand over her hips. “No, your majesty, that good.”

  She grinned.

  He asked, “So, would a centurion be rising above his station to ask a goddess about a long-term relationship?”

  Eve turned to face him, and just as she opened her mouth to answer, her phone rang and the ringtone played the distinctive bass throbbing music from the TV show Cops.

  “Don’t answer that.”

  “Have to, it’s the office.” Lord knew she wished she could ignore it like he wanted her to, but she had to answer.

  Leyton lay in the bed looking at her beautiful back with its distinctive butterfly. He could tell by her cryptic responses that whatever was going on was important, and probably important enough to bring their interlude to an end. He was right.

  She closed the phone and looked back at him. “I have to go.”

  “Chicago?”

  Her response was quiet. “Can’t tell you.”

  Sighing, he sat up. “How soon?”

  “According to the call, an hour ago. I need to be out of here ASAP.”

  “At least let me run you to the airport.”

  She shook her head. “Can’t even let you know what airline I’m flying. I’m going to get a quick shower and call a cab.”

  “Are you going under?”

  She met his eyes just long enough for him to see her sadness before she left him and hurried up the steps to the shower. Alone, he pounded the bed.

  Upstairs, Eve showered quickly. Leaving him this way was breaking her heart, but she had no choice. The job came first, and yes, she was going undercover with no idea when she’d surface and see him again. That was the most painful part, just when they’d found each other again, the government needed her and its need overrode her own. She dried off and dressed herself in the set of nondescript jeans and top she always carried in her suitcase just in case and grabbed her coat.

  When she got back downstairs, he was making coffee in the kitchen. He’d pulled on a pair of black sweats and a DFD tee and all she could think about was being in his arms again.

  He asked, “Are you going to answer my question?”

  She knew what question he meant, but she didn’t really have time for this now. “Let me do this first, okay? W
hen I’m done, I’ll be in touch.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Leyton.”

  “So am I, baby.”

  She knew that if she went into his arms she’d start bawling. But since there was no bawling in the ATF, she said, “Take care.”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  She sensed she’d hurt him, but she was already hurting enough for the both of them. A horn blew outside. “That’s my cab. Be well, my centurion.”

  “You, too, my lady.”

  They shared a gaze filled with sadness and regret, and then she hurried out of the door.

  When his coffee was ready, Leyton took a seat before the now-dying fire and slowly sipped in the silence.

  An hour later, Eve was on a flight to L.A. and Leyton was driving home to Detroit.

  CHAPTER 8

  In the weeks that followed, Leyton threw himself back into work. Phillip Brandywine recovered enough to agree to testify against his brother-in-law, Marvin Crenshaw, in exchange for a lighter sentence. But Leyton didn’t think the developer would ever do any real time due to the extensive rehabilitation he was facing as a result of the fire. Crenshaw hadn’t been able to make bail so he was angrily sitting in the county lockup awaiting his day in court.

  It was now December. Leyton got up from his desk and walked over to the window to look out at the city in winter. Puffs of steam from the city boilers rose from the manhole covers in the snow-lined streets as people bundled up in hats and gloves pulled their collars high, quickly making their way to their destinations. He hadn’t heard a word from Eve. He kept replaying their last moments together, seeing and hearing her seem to duck the question he’d asked. What would she have said had the phone not interrupted them? Yes? No? He had no way of knowing, and at the time he hadn’t been able to tell because of the poker face she’d been wearing. What he did know was that he now understood how his ex felt about the abrupt nature of the job. Until then, he’d always been the one hurrying away, never the one left behind, and the realization was an eye-opener. He’d never known this feeling of loss or considered that it would be mixed with disappointment, worry and a bit of resentment. He wasn’t sure he liked being on this end of things.