Doing It Right (16 page)

Kara heard his footsteps and looked up. Her eyes widened in surprise, which annoyed him. “What did you think?” he snapped by way of greeting. “I was going to let you sit in jail all night?”

“What are you yelling at
me
for?” she protested, rising and coming to stand before him as close as the bars would allow. “And what are you doing here?”

“I’m cracking you out of this pokey.” He glared at the janitor, who was quietly sweeping the floor near the door. “And God help
anyone
who gets in my way.”

Kara rolled her eyes; the janitor didn’t trouble herself to look up.

The tremendous stress of the past few hours caught up with him. “You’re in a lot of trouble, Kara Jayne Jones!” he roared in a tone that brought two of Kara’s cellmates to their feet. “Turning yourself in, trying to take the heat, having to see the D.A. tomorrow—you just wait until I get you home.”

“You sound like my father,” she said, exasperated, but she was doing, he saw with surprise, an awful lot of smiling. Shit, was she really that surprised and pleased he’d come? What did she think, he’d have gone gaily back home to eat leftovers and watch PayPerView while she rotted in prison? Well, rotted in Holding? “Somebody’s father, I mean,” she added. “I don’t remember what mine sounded like.”

“Kara! Will you focus, for Christ’s sake?”

“Her man’s comin’ down hard,” one of the jailed women said to another, not bothering to lower her voice.

He ignored the peanut gallery comment and stuck his finger through the bars, shaking it just under Kara’s nose. “We are getting out of here and going home and … and then you’re in big trouble, a lot of trouble, and you just wait.”

“I wouldn’t keep my finger in her face, I was you,”
another woman advised. She mimed cracking the index finger backward.

“Jared, you’re hysterical. Calm down.”

“I am not!” he practically shrieked. Then he decided she was right and forced several calming breaths. He didn’t say another word to her until they were in his car, on the way back to his place, half an hour later.

“Well!” Kara said brightly. She was, he noticed, more relaxed and cheerful than he had ever seen her. She was staring a lengthy prison term in the face and didn’t seem too worried. It was beyond weird. Actually, it was kind of irritating. Didn’t she care that she was leaving him? For about thirty years? “It certainly is a relief to be done with hiding. I’m almost looking forward to meeting the D.A. He’s been this big boogeyman in my mind so long—Yeek!”

She’d said “Yeek!” because he had abruptly pulled over and slammed on the brakes, bringing them to a smoking, sliding stop.

“You’re not,” he growled.

“I am.”

“You’re
not
.”

“Jared. I’ll meet with the D.A. tomorrow, who will insist I be held over for the grand jury. And I’ll pull some serious jail time for all the hacks.”

“But,” he said patiently, as if she knew none of this, “you stole from the corrupt, the baby rapers and murderers and drug dealers. And gave the money to the people they victimized.”

She smiled sadly. “You’re so adorable, you know
that? I’m telling you it doesn’t matter. Rules are rules. I’m going down, Jared. For a long, long time. And you’re letting me go—.”

“The fuck I am.” He could hardly recognize his own voice. That low, dangerous tone wasn’t at all like him. That wasn’t Dr. Dean’s bantering tone. That was the voice of a desperate man driven to great lengths to protect the woman he loved.

She ignored him. “—because I won’t have you waste your life waiting for visiting day. You’ll be old, Jared. Old before your time, old when I get out. I’ll be old, too. It won’t be allowed.”

“You’re right about that. Kara, you have to run. I’ll drive you to the train station or the bus station or the airport or to Chicago where you can disappear or … whatever. You—”

“Jared.”

“—can have every penny in my account for tickets. You don’t—”

“Jared.”

“—deserve jail, not like Carlotti does. All you did was try to stay alive, and dammit, you’re not going to jail and that’s final!”

“But I am. And that’s final. Jared. My darling, my only—” Her voice caught, then firmed, then went rock steady. “I’m done with running. It’s like banging your head against the wall—it feels so good when you stop.”

“I’ll—I’ll do something—something really terrible to you if you don’t come with me to the airport, right now.”

She looked at him and dared to smile. “No,” she
said softly, sweetly. “You won’t. You love me. You’d never hurt me. Don’t you see? That’s why this is so hard. You’re making it hard. Poor Jared. I warned you. Never say I didn’t warn you.”

He was silent. She was right. She had tried. She had fought him and their mutual attraction, tried hard to keep it purely business. She had known from the beginning that he meant despair and heartbreak to her and she to him. She had tried to tell him; he’d been too infatuated to listen.

He put the car in gear and pulled back out into traffic.

“I
know that look,” she teased. They had entered his apartment, hung up their coats, and Jared had silently fixed Kara a light supper. They were doing dishes now, shoulder to shoulder at the sink. It had been, to put it mildly, a long day.

Jared found it somewhat unbelievable that they were doing something so undramatic and domestic as the dishes. But he had to do something with his hands. He was too emotionally exhausted to think about anything else at this point. “You’re thinking about bashing me with a pail,” Kara continued, “and hiding me somewhere so I miss my appointment tomorrow.”

He coughed and hoped like hell he wasn’t blushing. That had been exactly what he was thinking. Trouble was, he’d need something along the lines of an army tank to stop Kara—he supposed he could inject her with a sedative from his bag while she slept, but the chances of doing that and a) not getting
his arm broken, and b) maintaining his self-respect, were slim.

“You could never pull it off,” she said kindly, as if reading his mind. Sad, really, that she seemed to know him as well as he felt he knew her. Knowledge that should have thrilled them had come too late. “You’d never do it. You’re too nice.”

He grunted.

“Are you going to spend our last night together sulking?”

“Yes,” he growled. Then groaned and shut the water off. “Screw the dishes. Screw
all
of this. I can’t believe you won’t let me talk you out of going tomorrow. You spend twenty years on the run from authority and pick tonight—
tonight
—to do the right thing? Cripes.”

“It’s worth the cost,” she said quietly.

“Not to me.”

There was a long silence while she finished drying the last glass, then she lay the towel on the counter, turned him toward her, and rested her head against his chest. He stood stiffly, not returning her embrace. “I love you for saying that,” she said. “I’m sorry about all of this. I should never have gotten you involved.”

“Don’t say that,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Wouldn’t have missed knowing you for anything.”

She laughed and stepped away from him. “God, don’t talk like that! You’re acting like I’m in my grave. I’m just going to prison for a while.”

“A long while.”

“Yes.”

“Then what?” He threw up his hands, turned his back on her. “What do we do?”

Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and she said softly, more breath than sound, “We make the most of tonight.”

He swallowed hard. “Oh, Kara.” He turned and pulled her against him, found her mouth, lost himself in her kiss. His lips parted hers, her small tongue curled up to meet his. His body was responding with enthusiasm, but his mind held back. Lovemaking tonight would be agonizing, all the more potent and heartbreaking because it would be their last evening together. He wasn’t sure he could do that. Put his heart on a sacrificial altar like that.

Her thoughts seemed to run in the same direction, because she pulled back and looked at him, her eyes mesmerizing pools of deep blue. Her lips were rosy and swollen from his kiss. “Coward,” she whispered, and he shuddered and tightened his grip on her.

He swallowed the lump in this throat and abruptly scooped her up. “Saw this in a movie once,” he said hoarsely, trying to banter with a voice that wanted to crack. “Always wanted to try it.”

“Was it
An Officer and a Gentleman
?”

“
Porky’s IV
, actually.”

She snorted, then giggled, then laughed outright, which got him started, and by the time they
reached his bed, he was staggering and roaring, trying not to drop her, and the tears that rolled down his cheeks were surely from laughter.

He dropped her on the bed and she sat up, reached around, and started tugging at the clip that held her hair up. He stopped her, said, “Let me,” and gently freed the large barrette from her hair. The lush blond waves tumbled past her shoulders, almost to her waist. He held the length in his hands, gently combing his fingers through the strands, then brought her hair forward. He slowly pushed her back until she was lying flat on the bed and rubbed her hair, like a coarse silk blanket, over her breasts until her nipples were poking stiffly through the strands.

“No one’s …” She gulped and tried again. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“No one’s ever loved you before like I do.”

“True enough.”

“What?” he teased, tickling the underside of her breasts with some of her hair. “No protestations that I don’t really love you? That I couldn’t possibly love you once I found out who you are and what you’ve done and—”

She moved like lightning. He felt his wrists seized and he was jerked forward until he sprawled on top of her. “You really have to shut up now,” she mock growled, and bit his earlobe.

“Unhand me, you cad!” he shrilled, then kissed her deeply.

Jokes were forgotten as their hands rekindled the desire that was always just below the surface. In
a few moments they were both nude, their bodies pressed tightly together.

He pressed wet, hot kisses along the slope of her neck, loving the way his touch made her shiver. “Kara,” he breathed, “I’m going to kiss every inch of you.”

“Me first,” she whispered back and wriggled free of him, then started planting delicate butterfly kisses along his collarbone.

It took forever; it was over in an instant. She didn’t just kiss, she licked and nibbled and sucked, her lips caressing every inch of his skin. When he felt her fingers close around him, felt her draw his hot, throbbing length into her mouth, he was certain he was mere moments away from a heart attack.
Let’s see,
he thought disjointedly, marveling at how hot her mouth was, how wet, I’ll show up in the ER and they’ll get some leads on me, then they’ll get the defib paddles and shock me, and when that doesn’t work they’ll crank the volts and shock me …

… shock me …

… again …

… until …

“Oh my,” Kara said huskily, and kissed the tip of him with no small amount of satisfaction.

“God,” he said shakily, throwing his arm across his eyes. “I haven’t gotten off that quickly since—”

“Last night?”

“I was going to say since I was a kid,” he said frostily, but couldn’t help smiling at her as she came up and cuddled against him. He kissed her,
tasted himself on her mouth, and at once felt an interested stirring between his legs. “My turn.”

He rolled her on her back, cupped her breasts and licked her cleavage, then drew a stiff nipple into his mouth. He could have spent an hour on her breasts alone; their creamy perfection, each topped by a rosy, sweet nipple, seemed to demand his touch. In truth, he ached to touch them, touch her, show her with his body how deeply he cared for her, loved her.

She was sighing in his arms, her fingers were in his hair, she was murmuring nonsense words to him, and when he remembered this was their last night together, that this time tomorrow she would be sleeping in a windowless cage …

He shoved the thought away. “Turn over,” he said, and when he’d eased her to her hands and knees, started kissing her spine. He trailed kisses all the way down her back, nibbled on a pert, firm buttock, then stretched out on the bed behind her, grasped her thighs, and kissed the entrance to her sex. She moaned and arched, and then he was licking softly, steadily, his tongue cleaving her hot, swollen woman’s flesh. He could hear her throaty groans and in response to that primitive sound his engorged cock dug urgently into the bed, and still he licked, licked, licked. He put his hands on her, tilted her hips back and spread her flesh with his thumbs while he forced his tongue inside her. She screamed his name and rocked back against his mouth. He could hear her begging, groaning, and felt like doing a little begging himself, like doing a
little
taking
himself and instead let his hungry mouth have free rein. His tongue stabbed at her, his lips tasted her and wanted more of her tangy sweetness, his hands kneaded her firm, white flesh.

“Jared …”

He slipped his thumbs inside her, wriggled them. Her flesh was red, swollen, hot, and tasted pretty damned fine. He could have touched her forever. Wanted to. He wished he could see her face, but respected her earlier request, respected her fear at appearing vulnerable, even before him. Maybe especially before him. He loved her, she was coming to love him, and he wouldn’t spoil it by forcing an intimacy she wasn’t ready for. Not even on their last night together.

“Jared, please …”

He rose up behind her and gently took her down to the bed, riding her until they were both on their stomachs. “Please what?” he whispered, smoothing her hair back from her face while fighting the urge to rear back and slam himself into her. Repeatedly.

“Please now,” she rasped, “I’ll die if you don’t come inside me now.” She wriggled beneath him and he clutched her shoulders and shuddered all over, knowing if he did what he wanted, what his cock so urgently demanded, they would be done before he was all the way inside. Twice in one night!
Humiliating
, he thought, and could have smiled. “Please, Jared.”