Lethal Attraction: Against the Rules\Fatal Affair Read online

  He froze. “Oh, God, did I hurt you?”

  “No, no! Don’t stop. Please.”

  Watching him, feeling him, there were no recriminations. There wasn’t room for thoughts of anything but him as he began to move, slowly at first and then faster as his closely held control seemed to desert him. She remembered that from the last time, how he’d let go with her, in a way she suspected he didn’t often allow himself.

  With his arms wrapped tight around her, he pounded into her, the smack of flesh meeting flesh the only thing she could hear over the roar of her own heartbeat.

  Sam met each thrust with equal ardor, and when he sucked hard on her nipple, she cried out with another climax that took him tumbling over with her.

  “Jesus,” he whispered when he’d recovered the ability. “Jesus Christ. I didn’t even offer you something to drink.”

  She laughed and tightened the hold she had on him, letting one hand slide languidly through soft hair still damp from an earlier shower. “What kind of host does that make you?”

  “A crappy one, I guess,” he said, turning them over in a smooth move.

  Stretched out on top of him, still joined with him, Sam breathed in his warm, masculine scent and reveled in the comfort of strong arms wrapped tight around her. It was almost disturbing to accept that she had never experienced anything even remotely close to this, except during the one night she spent with him so many years ago. How foolish she had been then to assume that what she’d shared with him would show up again with someone else. She was wise enough now, old enough, jaded enough, to know better.

  But even as the woman continued to vibrate with aftershocks and tingle with the desire for more, the cop resurfaced with disgust and dismay. “This was a very bad idea,” she muttered into his chest.

  He curled a lock of her hair around his finger. “Depends on your perspective. From my point of view, it was the best idea I’ve had in six years.”

  Sam studied him. “It must be the politician in you.”

  Eyebrows knitting with confusion, he said, “What must?”

  “The way you always seem to have the right words.”

  He framed her face with his big hands. “I’m not feeding you lines, Sam.”

  His sweet sincerity made her heart ache with something she refused to acknowledge. “I know.” The emotions were so overwhelming and new to her, she did the first thing that came to mind. She tried to escape.

  His arms clamped around her like a vise. “Not yet.” He brushed his lips over hers in a gesture so tender it all but stopped her heart. Her eyes flooded with tears that she desperately tried to blink back.

  “What?”

  She shook her head.

  “Sam.”

  Letting her eyes drift up to meet his, she said, “I like this. I know I shouldn’t because of everything…but I like it.”

  “Sex on the sofa?”

  “This.” She had to look away. It was just too much. “You. Me. Us.”

  “So do I.” He kissed her softly. “So does this mean we’re together now?”

  A stab of fear went through her. She just wasn’t ready for the magnitude of what this had the potential to be. “Why does it need a label? Why can’t it just be what it is?”

  Once again, the flash of pain she saw on his face bothered her more than it should have. “And what is it exactly, Sam? I want far more from you than just a sex buddy.”

  “That might be all I can give you right now.”

  He sighed. “I suppose I’ll take whatever I can get.” When his lips coasted up her neck, he made her shiver. “We could move this somewhere more comfortable. There’s a big soft bed in the other room.”

  Her stomach ached as reality stepped in to remind her of why she’d needed to see him. “There’re things we need to talk about. Stuff about the case.”

  “We’ll get to it. Can I just have a few more minutes of this first?”

  Because he seemed to need it so much, she said, “Okay.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The bed, as advertised, was big and soft. How he managed to coax her into it was something she planned to think about later when she reclaimed her sanity. It would be so easy, so very easy indeed, to curl into him and sleep the sleep of the dead. But the grinding sensation in her gut was an ever-present reminder of the conversation she needed to have with him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as his talented hand worked to ease the tension in her neck.

  “Nothing, why?”

  “I had you on the way to relaxed, and now you’re all tight again.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “So you’ve said. I’m listening.”

  “I can’t do cop work naked.”

  Laughing, he said, “Is that in the manual?”

  “If it isn’t, it should be.”

  Sitting up, he reached for the pile of their clothes he had deposited on the foot of the bed, found the T-shirt he’d been wearing when she arrived, and helped her into it. “Better?”

  Engulfed in the shirt that carried his sexy, male scent, she was riveted by his muscular chest. “Um, except you’re still naked.”

  “I’m not the cop.” He reached for her hand, brought it to his lips. “Talk to me, Sam.”

  The dull ache sharpened in a matter of seconds.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said, alarmed. “You just went totally pale.”

  “It’s nothing.” She tried and failed to take a deep breath. “Just this deal with my stomach.”

  “What deal?”

  “It gives me some grief from time to time. It’s nothing.”

  “Have you had it checked?”

  “A couple of times,” she squeaked out.

  “Babe, God, you’re in serious pain! What can I do?”

  “Gotta breathe,” she said as the pain clawed its way through her, making her feel sick and clammy. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He fitted himself around her, held her close and whispered soft words of comfort that eased her mind.

  She closed her eyes, focused on the sound of his voice and drifted. The pain retreated, but the episode—worse than most—left her drained and embarrassed. “Sorry about that.”

  “I told you not to apologize. You have to do something about that. You might have an ulcer or something. I can get you in with my friend. He’s awesome.”

  “It seems to crop up whenever I’m nervous about something, which I’m finding is fairly often.”

  “You’re nervous about what you have to say to me?”

  She tilted her head and found his pretty hazel eyes studying her intently. “I guess I am.”

  He sat up, propped the pillows behind him and snuggled her into his chest. “Then let’s get it over with.”

  “Cops don’t snuggle.”

  “Make an exception.”

  “I think I’ve already made quite a few,” she said dryly.

  “Make another one.”

  Before the pain could come back to remind her she was powerless against it, she took the plunge. “I have to ask you something. It’s probably going to upset you, and I hate that, but I have to ask.”

  “Okay.”

  “Is there any chance John was gay? Or maybe bi?” She felt the tension creep into his body, and then just as quickly it was gone.

  He laughed. He actually laughed. “No. Not only no, but no fucking way.”

  “How can you know that for sure? Some men hide it from their friends, their families…”

  “I would’ve known, Sam. Believe me. I would’ve known.”

  “You didn’t know he had a son.”

  And just that quickly he was tense again. “You don’t know that, either.”

  “I’m all but certain of it. The picture?”

  “What about it?”

  “His parents lied. His cousin Thomas, the son of Robert O’Connor? He’s thirty-six, dark hair, dark eyes.” She sat up straighter and shifted so she could see his face. “Surely you must have heard him talk about