Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold) (13 page)

“No need.” Cassie shoved another batch of toast into the oven. “It’s for a good cause, and I have no intention of accepting any money. Plus, I owe Mike a favor.”

“That’s true.” Rose snickered. “To make up for trying to poison him. A fair trade if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Cassie said.

Rose laughed. “You know that snobby Chef Pierre insisted I pay him overtime for this. I don’t think that man had one ounce of goodwill in his plump, arrogant body. You’re as honest as they come.”

If you only knew.

When Rose disappeared into the dining area, Cassie braced her hands on the table. How would the town react when they learned how dishonest she’d been? How would Mike react?

No matter the outcome, her decision was made. As soon as the La Femme case was tied up, she was done with her old life. Done with police work.

Cassie pulled the last of the dozen sheet cakes from the oven and glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Seven-fifteen and no word from Mike.

The scents of warm vanilla and almond extracts filled the kitchen as she set the cake pans onto a cooling rack. She headed to the walk-in refrigerator and hauled out several bins of whole chickens.

She’d left two messages for Mike at the station, the second one including a detailed explanation as to why she had to cancel their date. His dispatcher informed her Mike was tied up with business all day but assured her he’d get the messages as soon as he returned to the office.

Then she’d called Dom to update him about her newly acquired hometown fame. To say her partner had not been pleased was an understatement of biblical—no, make that cosmic—proportions. After enduring his tirade about not waiting for a hostage negotiator, he subjected her to a lengthy lecture about putting her life more in danger than it already was. She cringed at how Gray would take the news. Her brother would be even less forgiving than her partner. Since Gray outranked her, he might even order her to pack up and get out of town. And she would, as soon as Chuck returned.

Cassie dropped a chicken onto the butcher-block table and began whacking it into pieces with a cleaver, all the while reviewing the update her partner had provided.

Unexpectedly, the financial lookups on Manici and La Femme were linked to a bank in the Cayman Islands. Dom had cursed about what a colossal bitch it would be getting detailed information on that account since the Cayman banking system protected their clients’ privacy more than the Swiss.

In no time, Cassie had cut enough legs, thighs, and breasts to keep Mike’s table in balsamic-glazed chicken for the entire picnic. By the time she finished browning and baking it all, she ought to be done by…oh, midnight or so.

She dropped the cleaver into a plastic bin of sudsy warm water that splashed all over her shirt. “Crap.”

“Got your message,” came a deep voice from behind her.

Cassie spun to see Mike with his shoulder hitched against the doorjamb and holding the biggest bouquet of lilacs she’d ever seen. Fluffy purple blooms cascaded over his tanned arm.

There it was again—those butterflies in her belly. Blood shot to all the important parts of her body, including those that hadn’t experienced a man’s touch in ages.

Light gray slacks outlined Mike’s long legs. A dark blue button-down, short-sleeved dress shirt tapered from his broad shoulders to where he’d tucked it into his belted slacks. Slacks that did incredible things to his perfectly carved hips and thighs.

Cassie smoothed her wrinkled plum-colored T-shirt with her hands, dismally aware of the food stains that spotted her clothes from head to toe.

“These are for you.” An adorable, boyish grin crept to his face as he handed her the lilacs.

“Thank you.” She smiled and held the bouquet to her nose, inhaling the deep, unique floral scent. “My favorite flower. How did you know?”

He leaned in close and inhaled what she knew to be her lilac-scented perfume. She loved it so much she dabbed a bit at her neck every day, even before work. Tingles skittered up her neck and down her back.

“Hmm.” Mike twirled a lock of her hair around his fingers. “Must be my keen investigative sense. You always smell like lilacs. So does your bedroom.” He looked at her from hungry, heavy-lidded eyes, an intimate reminder of where last night hadn’t gone.

And where tonight wasn’t going, either.

“Let me put these in some water.” She went to the sink and found a vase on an overhead shelf and began filling it. “Sorry about canceling.” She dropped the flowers into the vase and set it on the adjacent counter. “Chuck had to go out of town on a family emergency and Leo has his first big date with Ginny tonight, so—”

“So…” Mike said, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling the back of her neck. “You’re pulling an all-nighter cooking alone for my PBA table tomorrow.”

Cassie turned in his arms to see the beginnings of a bold, seductive smile on his mouth. She slid her hands along his upper arms beneath his shirtsleeves. Rock-hard biceps rippled as her fingers glided over his taut skin. And he smelled so, so good.

She sighed heavily. “I don’t think I’ll be done here until late. Very late.”

“Is that why you have such a worried look on your beautiful face?”

“Beautiful?” She laughed. “Hardly. I’m filthy, sweaty, and I need a long shower to clean away the stains and smells from cooking all day.”

“Yes, definitely beautiful.” Mike flashed a gorgeous white smile, and those butterflies in her belly fluttered faster, more like hummingbirds. “And you don’t need a shower to smell good to me.” He nuzzled her neck again, and when he dropped a hot, wet kiss just below her ear, Cassie’s knees nearly buckled.

“C’mon.” He chucked her under the chin and pulled her toward the stove. “We have a lot of cooking to do.”

“We?”

He turned so abruptly she slammed into the solid wall of his chest. “We,” he repeated. “I’m helping. That way you can finish sooner and maybe we can grab a late bite.” He leaned down to nip at her lower lip.

Cassie looked up into his smoldering gaze, and his mouth came down hard, capturing hers in a breathless kiss that left her entire body quivering. She lifted her arms, intending to link her hands around his neck, when he released her.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he said, leaving her wanting to tear off his clothes and jump him right there on the prep table.

Ten minutes later, she was flabbergasted to see Mike expertly wielding paring knives, large chopping knives, sautéing vegetables, and browning meat and chicken with the ease and efficiency of someone who’d spent his entire life working in a restaurant.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” Cassie shot him an accusing look as she pulled several large aluminum pans from the oven. Smells of sausage, peppers and onions, and balsamic-glazed roast chicken rose from the steaming, bubbling pans.

“How so?”

“You’ve obviously spent a little time in a kitchen before.”

A slow, sensual smile turned his lips upward, and Cassie’s heart somersaulted like a pancake being flipped on a hot grill. She suddenly forgot how tired and achy her feet were from standing for more than sixteen hours straight.

“Come on.” She pointed a set of long silver tongs at him. “I can be as effective at interrogation as you are, so you might as well fess up.”

He laughed in that deep, sexy bass she’d come to love. “My parents own an Irish pub in Manhattan. My siblings and I spent more time growing up there than we did in our house. We started out bussing tables then moved up to prepping and cooking. Summers during college we spent at the pub.”

Cassie’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. She couldn’t have been more shocked if Mike had said he’d been a circus clown.

He grabbed a set of tongs and transferred the browned chicken to one of several aluminum pans. “But that’s tavern food, nothing as fancy as what you do. You have a real talent.”

Cassie shook her head, still trying to digest this completely new side of Mike. And, unlike most cops she knew, they still hadn’t talked about
his
job all night.

“So how many thugs do you arrest every month?” She raised her eyebrows and waited.

Mike shrugged. “Don’t keep track.”

“Really?” A cop who didn’t tally his own arrests? “Don’t cops carve a notch into their belts every time they bust someone?”

He laughed. “Who told you that?”

“I think I read it in
Cosmopolitan.
No…” she paused, pretending to be deep in thought, “…maybe it was
Vanity Fair
. It was an article about men who equate their professional exploits with the size of their manhood and sexual stamina.”

Mike grinned. “You worried since I don’t have a hundred notches on my belt I won’t”—he lowered his gaze to his crotch, then raised his eyes back to hers—“measure up?”

“Oh, my heavens.” Cassie put her hand to her chest, stifling a laugh. “I didn’t mean to imply that article applied to you, specifically. I meant no offense.”

“None taken.” The hot, sensual look he gave her left no doubt in Cassie’s mind that size and stamina were most definitely
not
a problem for Mike. “In defense of my ego, Jimmy and I made a lot of arrests when we first got here, but things have been quiet for years.” He pointed the spatula he held in her direction. “That is until
you
got here and all hell broke loose.” He shook his head and turned back to the grill.

“Yeah.” She grimaced and began icing one of the cooled sheet cakes. “Sorry about that, Chief.”

“No problem,” he said over his shoulder. “Things were getting a little boring around here, and the new guys need the experience.”

“In that case, I’m glad to have contributed in some small way to their on-the-job training.”

Two hours later, Cassie dropped the last piece of chicken into a pan.

“If I had to do this alone,” she said, “my feet would be screaming in agony in the morning. As it is, they are anyway.”

“Then I suggest,” Mike said as he carried a pan to the refrigerator, “that we finish up so I can give you the best foot massage you’ve ever had.”

“You’ve got a deal.” She raced to crimp lids on the remaining pans of chicken and sausage.

After the food had been stowed in the refrigerator, Cassie sat on a stool while Mike’s strong hands kneaded and worked the sore, achy muscles in her arches. “Mmmm.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the riotous, tingling sensations in her feet. “You are truly gifted.”

His hands stilled, and she opened her eyes and followed his line of sight. Her nipples jutted sharply against the plum fabric of her T-shirt. His sculpted jaw tensed, and his throat worked as he cleared it. The smoldering look he gave her was so powerful her breath caught in her throat.

“Cassie.” His voice was thick, husky, laden with the heat of desire hovering in the air.

“What?” she whispered. The way her heart slammed against her ribs, she could barely hear her own voice.

“Your place or mine?”

Chapter Twelve

“Come here.” Mike locked the door to Cassie’s house behind them.

The low timbre of his command sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. She was wound so tightly from anticipation, she could barely breathe.

Mike held out his hand, a movement that molded his blue dress shirt to his powerful shoulder. Glare from the fluorescent ceiling lights reflected off his eyes, casting them in a turbulent midnight blue.

When Cassie slid her hand into his, he tugged her closer and without breaking eye contact put her hand to his lips. Starting with her pinkie, he kissed every one of her fingers. By the time he progressed to her thumb, her hand trembled. If the way her body responded was any indication of what the night had in store, it promised to be one hell of a hot night.

Raven lay down next to the refrigerator and made what sounded like a dissatisfied
hmpf
at having her nightly walk cut short.

Sorry, girl. I have needs, too.

Mike began kissing each of her fingers again in reverse order. When he reached her middle finger, he slipped it slowly into his mouth. When he began sucking on it like a Popsicle, Cassie nearly choked. His mouth was hot, wet, teasing as he slid his tongue up and down and around the length of her finger from the tip of her nail to the base of her hand.

“Where’d you learn that?” she asked on a sigh.

With her finger still in his mouth, Mike laughed, sending vibrations through Cassie’s finger to her toes.

He slipped his mouth from her slicked finger. “I’m a highly trained professional.”

“I can see that,” she whispered. “And feel it.”

The color of Mike’s eyes turned darker, more evidence of the passionate storm brewing in those azure depths. With an animalistic groan he hauled her against his chest and covered her mouth with his. He slanted his lips across hers, angling her head for deeper access as he probed with his tongue. He tasted minty and earthy at the same time.

Heat radiated from his body like an industrial oven, seeping through her clothes and skin directly into her blood. Cassie dug her fingers into Mike’s back, resisting the urge to claw through his silky shirt to get to his firm flesh.

With their lips and tongues fused, he pressed his erection against her lower belly, thrusting with the same rhythm of his tongue in her mouth. She surged her hips forward, straining to increase the contact of his hard body against the entrance to her core.

Mike pulled her hands from his back and gripped both her wrists in one of his hands, holding them over her head. Her breasts jutted against her T-shirt, her nipples grazing his chest until they pebbled. He teased her by skimming his free hand over the incredibly sensitive peaks with soft, feathering touches.

“Mike, please.” Cassie let her head fall back, astounded at the way her words sounded like a pathetic plea.

“Please what?” His deep, throaty voice was more a command than a question.

“You know damn well what. If you don’t put your mouth on me, I’ll die.”

“Baby, anything you want.” He grasped her breast and bit her nipple gently through her T-shirt. He plucked with his teeth until the bud turned harder than a diamond.

More.

Cassie strained to free her hands from Mike’s grip. Her chest rose and fell from the effort, shoving her tight, aching nipple deeper into his mouth.

“Easy there, wildcat.” Mike chuckled as she twisted to free herself.

“I don’t want it easy.”

“Your wish is my command.” He released her wrists and in one fluid motion, yanked her shirt up and over her head, then flung it against the wall. He unclasped her bra, and the next thing she knew, that, too, slithered down the wall. Cold air from the air-conditioning vent blew over her nipples, puckering them harder, making her shiver with delight.

The corners of Mike’s mouth lifted, and he uttered an undecipherable, thoroughly male sound. He cupped her breasts, squeezing lightly, massaging them until Cassie wanted to scream from the sheer pleasure of his touch.

“Your breasts are perfect,” he murmured, then grasped her buttocks and set her on the counter. Stainless-steel sugar and flour bins rattled as they were shoved to the side.

Mike bent his head and pulled her bare nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, rolling her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Cassie held his head tighter to her breast, sifting her fingers through his dark, close-cropped hair. When he caught her nipple firmly between his teeth, she cried out.

Oh, God. More, more, more.

The sounds of his lips and tongue sucking and licking her bare flesh drove Cassie to let out a high-pitched moan. Mike’s large hands caressed her breasts, nipples, and belly in erotic little circles, driving closer and closer to the waistband of her jeans. His fingers delved progressively lower, below her waistband, then sliding over her now hot, wet panties. The sweet ache between her thighs built and built to a throbbing crescendo.

What would he feel like inside her?

Strong. Thick. Powerful.

Her muscles turned to molten lava, barely able to hold her upright. She slid her hands to his back, trying to pull the shirt from his waistband. “Too many clothes.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He brushed her hands away and pulled her off the counter. One flick of his finger and the button on her jeans popped open. He tugged her zipper down and yanked her pants, along with her panties, to her ankles. She toed off her shoes and kicked them aside.

Raven let out a
woof
.

“Sorry, girl.” She must have hit Raven with one of her shoes.

Her socks came next, and Mike helped her out of her pants. The kitchen tile was cool beneath her bare feet. He pushed her against the counter until the edge pressed into her bare backside. Mike cupped her face, his thumbs gentle as he skimmed her cheeks. His eyes burned hotter and bluer than the tip of a welder’s flame.

“You are so, so bad. A cop with a naughty side.”

“Don’t spread it around.” He kissed her on the mouth, whispering, “I have a reputation to protect.”

“Don’t worry.” She arched her neck as he dropped wet, tantalizing kisses on that oh-so-sensitive spot in the hollow beneath her earlobe. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Pressed together as they were, the metal of his belt buckle was cold against her belly and the fabric of his shirt abraded her bare nipples. Cassie looked between their bodies to see her full breasts pushed into mounds. Mike brushed the tops of them with his fingers, softly caressing her delicate skin. Watching his hands as he touched her so gently was sensual as hell. She was naked, powerless against anything he wanted to do with her.

Mike slid his hand between her legs and pushed two fingers inside her slippery folds. She hooked her leg around the back of his thighs, urging him on. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, while at the same time rocking his hips against hers, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, baby.” He kissed her, sucking on her lower lip.

The edge of the counter jabbed into her back, and she couldn’t have cared less. Every one of her senses focused on Mike’s long, strong fingers delving inside her tight walls.

Through half-closed eyes, she glimpsed his intent, darkened gaze. Still pistoning his fingers, he flicked his thumb over her sensitive bud, and she nearly jumped from the spark his touch set off. Stroking, up and down, back and forth, around and around in ever-tightening circles.

Cassie’s abdominal muscles bunched. Her breath quickened, and she threw her head back as the first pulse slammed into her. She cried out, digging her nails into Mike’s shoulders, gasping as she clung to him while wave after wave of the most incredible orgasm rolled through her like a tsunami.

He held her tightly, kissing her throat, her ear, and then the top of her head as her breathing slowed. She wanted to laugh at the look of pure masculine satisfaction on Mike’s face.

Cassie licked her lips. “Now it’s my turn.”

She grabbed the sides of his collar and ripped his shirt open to his waist. Buttons flew and skittered on the tile floor. Fabric ripped as she pulled the shirttails from his slacks and yanked the garment off his shoulders. She let it drop to the floor, where it landed with a silky
swish
.

Mike’s laughter echoed in the small confines of the kitchen.

“Ah…” Cassie opened her mouth, but no other words came. Her gaze traveled over Mike’s tanned shoulders, down his chest to the light coating of dark hair. His entire upper body was covered in a sheen of sweat. Totally ripped abs. Not an ounce of fat. God. The man
was
a god.

“Hey, I feel like a piece of meat here.”

“Sorry.” Cassie shrugged. “Consider it payback for staring at my ass.”

“Fair enough.” He chuckled.

Then she leaned in to flick one of his nipples with her tongue.

He hissed in a breath. “You’re killing me.”

“I’ve barely gotten started.” She pulled his nipple into her mouth and sucked on it.

“Then I’ll die a happy man.”

She began to undo his fly when steely fingers clamped around her wrists.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he said.

She should have guessed from the way his eyes glittered and the sly tilt of his mouth, he was about to take charge again. Macho or no, this time she wouldn’t have it any other way. He hefted her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a feather, his hands on the backs of her legs and ass tantalizing and arousing.

“Put me down.” Cassie laughed and tried to slap his butt.

Her heavy breasts hung and bobbed against his naked back, her bare nipples brushing his taut skin. Despite Mike’s Neanderthal method, Cassie was equally turned on and excited by the way he totally out-muscled her. A warrior claiming his woman.

“Not a chance, babe.” He gave one of her bare cheeks a little smack that resounded off the kitchen walls.

“Ouch.” She swatted at his back.

“Serves you right. You are a pain in the ass.” He gave her other butt cheek a smack and headed into the hallway and up the stairs.

Cassie’s butt stung, but it was a sweet burn that sizzled straight to her core. She imagined both her ass cheeks sported red marks in the shape of Mike’s hand. In the dim light cast by the chandelier at the top of the stairs, Raven padded behind them, her claws silent on the carpeted runner.

Once inside her bedroom, Mike kicked the door shut. Raven gave a little snort from the other side. Moonlight streamed in through the open curtains, illuminating the room in an ethereal glow.

As Mike laid her on the bed, he followed her down, spreading her legs wide to accommodate his hips and thighs. The smooth sheets were cool beneath her, contrasting deliciously with the heat from Mike’s bare chest pressing into her breasts. He kissed her deeply and ground himself against the wet spot between her thighs. Suddenly, he pushed off the mattress and turned on the bedside lamp.

Cassie squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light. She rose up on her elbows and watched him lift one pant leg, revealing a black ankle holster. The Velcro fasteners made a tearing sound as he stripped the holster away.

“You always pack heat on a date?” She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise, knowing full well that even off-duty, all streetwise cops carried a firearm. “Or were you going to shoot me if I tried to spike your dinner with hot sauce?”

“Spank you, maybe.” He smiled as he set a Glock 26 9mm onto her bedside table.

Cassie laughed while Mike kicked off his shoes and socks, but when he yanked down his pants and tight jockey shorts she nearly choked on her tongue.

Chief Michael Flannery was seriously well-endowed and seriously hard, jutting out at her like a spring-loaded diving board. She could probably hook a full-sized beach blanket on him.

Mike grabbed his pants from the floor and pulled several packets of condoms from a pocket and tossed them onto the table where they landed with a slap.

“You sure you brought enough, sailor?” Humor had become an essential part of their relationship, and she couldn’t resist teasing him.

He grinned and reached into the other pocket of his pants. Three more packets went flying onto the table. “What do
you
think?”

As Cassie laughed, Mike eased back onto the bed, resting his weight on his forearms and capturing her head between his hands. The tender, passionately fierce look on his face was enough to silence her.

He kissed her slowly at first, as if savoring the taste of her mouth, her lips, her very essence. Cassie slid her hands over his broad back to his ass. Her hands couldn’t reach enough of him, to feel all of him, rippling, naked, and magnificent.

When he nudged his erection between her thighs, she pushed her hips forward and upward until his hard cock was completely enveloped by her slick, wet folds. Her body throbbed and trembled from the sweet friction building in her core. Their hips ground together as she stroked him again and again, coating his length with her juices. Every cell in her body quivered as he kissed her relentlessly, his tongue again mimicking the thrust of their hips. She moaned into his mouth, nearly coming. God, how she wanted him, needed him inside her more than her next breath.

The mattress shifted beneath her as he rose and snagged one of the packets on the bedside table. He tore it open and quickly sheathed himself. He eased back onto the mattress and pushed two fingers inside her. She was so, so ready.

Her breath came in little pants, and she dug her nails deeper into his skin. He withdrew his fingers and eased himself between her legs, then inside her, a fraction of an inch at a time. Slowly, too slowly, probably out of concern of hurting her. Cassie stroked his arms and shoulders, feeling the tension and strain vibrating beneath his skin as he held himself to keep from crushing her.

Unable to wait a moment longer, she gripped his butt cheeks and pulled him inside the rest of the way, gasping as he filled her.

“Cassie, no!” Mike hissed in a breath. “Take it slower. I don’t want to hurt you.” His brows bunched and his lips pressed together, as if
he
was in pain.