Give Him the Slip (29 page)

"I don't know..." Slowly, deliberately, Luke tipped the
bowl. Cold ice cream dribbled onto her bare skin just above her neckline. Then
he dipped his head and his soft, rough tongue licked it off. "Yeah. That's
the spice that's missing. It needed a dash of Maddie."

And so began a sensual assault the likes of which Maddie had never
imagined. With clever, teasing hands he stripped her down to her underwear,
then rocked back on his heels to relish the sight. The hard, hot glint in his
eyes was enough to curl her toes.

Deft fingers made quick work of the fastener between her breasts,
and when he pushed her bra away, his hand brushed her nipple. Instantly, it
puckered, begging for attention.

Luke accommodated. He dipped a finger in the ice cream, then
painted her with slow, sensuous motions that left her tingling and needy.
"Luke..."

"Patience, Madeline," he said, smiling. "I like to
savor my dessert." He played Picasso on her breasts until she whimpered
with frustration. Only then did he give her what she wanted.

Luke kissed the valley between her breasts. His tongue lapped,
then flicked over her nipples, scalding her sensitive skin. He licked her like
a cat, murmuring his pleasure low in his throat. "Mmm... butter and brown
sugar, cinnamon and spice. Cinnamon and you."

Days later, his mouth finally closed around her hot, throbbing
peak and suckled. It was heaven and pure sin tied up together. Maddie arched
her back as pleasure jolted through her, and she gasped and curled her toes and
forgot to breathe. A surge of hot anticipation pooled between her thighs.

He took his time at this, too. Once he had her writhing, Luke
embarked on a culinary tour. His large hands smeared her with the cool, creamy
treat. His hot mouth followed, cleaning up his mess. His earlier promise kept,
Luke went about tasting every single inch. He tasted, devoured, consumed. He
supped his way across her shoulders, her neck, then down between her breasts to
her navel, where he used the very tip of his tongue to retrieve the sweetness.
He licked the tender skin of her thighs, nibbled the back of her knees. He even
sucked her toes.

When Luke's breath fanned against the filmy triangle of her thong,
her nails curled into the quilt.

"Red is my favorite color," he murmured, his finger
slipping beneath the elastic, scorching a path from hip bone to hip bone. His
thumb brushed across the filmy silk covering her curls, and Maddie's entire
body clenched.

He rolled back on his heels and tugged her panties down her long
legs, then past her ankles and feet. He feasted on the sight of her, his eyes
heavy lidded and blazing hot, glittering like jewels. "My very favorite
color."

He lifted the bowl and poured melted ice cream over the delta
between her legs. Maddie half expected steam to rise from her skin as he added,
"My very favorite taste."

Her bones melted when he gave her the most intimate of kisses.
Pleasure bolted through her as his tongue touched the small aching bud and
Maddie cried out.

"Mmm... delicious."

Maddie's breaths came in pants as he worked his magic between her
legs. She clutched handfuls of the quilt, her head thrown back, her blood
pounding and pulsing. He slid his hands beneath her, lifting her for better access.
Steadying her when tremors raced up and down her nerves and shook her to her
soul.

Her blood burned, her body tensed and trembled. She thrashed
beneath his attentions, the pressure within her building. Building. A searing,
brilliant promise hovering just beyond reach.

He lifted his head. She whimpered. "Give me your flavor,
Maddie. Give it to me now."

He put his mouth to her and feasted hungrily, and Maddie cried out
his name as her body convulsed and she came in a hot rush of exquisite
pleasure.

He stayed with her, coaxing the tremors to continue, to build
again, until she shuddered and shook and screamed, then finally went limp.

Only then did he stop what he was doing and roll to his feet. He
looked down at her, his eyes twin flames, as he yanked off his shirt and
shucked out of his slacks and shorts, then tossed them toward the side of the
pool. She lay there weak with satisfaction, watching him, wanting him again.

Naked and aroused, Luke Callahan was just about the most
magnificent sight she'd ever seen. His bronzed, broad shoulders were thickly
muscled. His wide chest tapered to an abdomen ridged with muscle. A wedge of
brown hair narrowed to his navel, then arrowed down to his sex, which jutted
toward her, huge and thick and ready.

He made her mouth water.

Luke reached out. "Give me your hand, Madeline."

She wasn't sure she had the strength to move. "Why?"

"I promised you a dance."

"Come down here and dance."

His lips quirked in a smile. "Patience, Red."

He beckoned her with a wiggle of his fingers and she reached for
him because she couldn't help herself. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist
and pulled her against him, heated skin to heated skin. Hard to soft. His penis
pressed against her belly, triggering a hollow ache deep within Maddie.

Luke waltzed Maddie across the lawn beneath the silvery moonlight
to the soft, sultry jazz now drifting on the air. Thick grass tickled her feet.
A warm, gentle breeze kissed her bare skin. She breathed in Luke Callahan's
musky male scent and tasted him and herself in his kiss.

It was the most sensual experience of her life.

"I feel wicked," she told him.

"Wicked works for me." His big hand stroked down her
spine, then cupped her buttock. "You work for me."

Then he kissed her again, wetly, deeply, and their waltz ended, as
a different kind of dance, a dance as old as time, took control.

Maddie rubbed herself against him, her hips moving slowly and
sensuously. When he made a growling sound low in his throat, she indulged her
hunger to touch him. She spread her fingers against his chest, then scraped her
thumbs across his flat nipples, and his muscles went as taut as a drum. Then
she trailed her hands lower, following that tantalizing trail of hair that
pointed the way to the part of him her body ached to know again.

His hot, heavy shaft filled her hand, both as soft as velvet and
as hard as steel. When her fingers closed around him, Luke shuddered and
groaned. "Madeline."

She smiled and licked her lips, then leaned forward and licked
him.

He growled a laugh and said, "Not yet. Not here."

Then Luke scooped her legs out from beneath her and lifted her
into his arms.
Now
he'd do the Rhett Butler thing.

But he surprised her again by carrying her not into the house but
toward the pool. "I've been thinking about this all damned day."

He carried her down the pool's steps until they were submerged in
the cool water up to their waists. He paused just long enough to kiss her
senseless before reaching for his pants beside the pool and the condom in his
pocket. Releasing her, Luke quickly dealt with necessities, then he was moving,
pushing her back against the pool's wall. Maddie clung to his shoulders and
allowed her legs to float up around his waist.

He supported her with his hands on her bottom, then with one quick
thrust he was inside her, stretching her, filling her. "Do you know how
hard it was for me to leave you alone this morning? You're a fantasy, Red. My
fantasy."

Then he was taking her, plunging into her over and over in a
pounding rhythm that swept her into a maelstrom of sensation that turned her
bones to water and set her blood afire. She lost all sense of time.

Maddie vaguely heard herself sobbing his name as she hurtled
toward the peak. He accelerated his movement, driving into her with a series of
fierce, deep thrusts. Then she shattered, crying out as intense pleasure
exploded within her.

"Maddie," Luke groaned, his teeth nipping at the tender
hollow where her neck and shoulder met. He buried himself in her shaking body,
grinding against her as he found his own release. Holding her tight until his
shudders finally eased. "Maddie."

For a long, lovely moment they held one another. Then he kissed
her with such tenderness that it made her heart weep. "You are a special
woman, Maddie Kincaid."

"You're pretty special yourself."

They drifted apart and Maddie floated, totally replete, stretching
languidly. Luke ducked beneath the water, then surfaced once more, flinging
water from his hair as he gave his head a shake. "The water feels good.
I've been hot since I woke up this morning, and it's all your fault."

She smiled smugly as she climbed the steps out of the pool.
"You're all cooled off now?"

His eyes glittered like a cat's. "Let's just say I'm
surprised I don't see steam rising off the water."

As Maddie reached for a towel, she couldn't remember ever feeling
so feminine.

"God, I love that tattoo."

Feminine but earthy. Sensual.

Powerful.

She'd been content to let him direct this play since they'd
stepped over the threshold of Cottonwood Cottage, but now, as she watched him
watching her, she decided her turn had arrived once again.

She wanted to torture Luke. She wanted to torment him. She wanted
to make him howl at the moon.

She wanted to make the big, bad, tough former federal agent lose
control again.

She dried herself slowly, teasing and tempting and taking her
time, expecting to find her task more difficult now that he'd sated himself
twice already this night. However, judging by his condition as he rose from the
water, she had more power than she'd realized.

She tossed him her towel, then as he absently dragged it across
his body, stepped into her high heels and nothing else.

"Wicked," Luke murmured.

He retrieved her panties from the blanket, then tossed them to
her. Surprised. Maddie arched a brow.

"You promised me Christmas."

Oh. The green satin sheets. She turned away from him, stepped into
the thong, then glanced over her shoulder and began walking away toward the
house.

She'd covered half the distance before he let out the howl she'd
wanted. Then he was there, lifting her. Throwing her over his shoulder.

As he climbed the stairs with her, Maddie nipped at his shoulder
blade. "Luke Callahan?"

He cupped her bottom with his large, hot hand. "What?"

"Just so you know. You're even better than Rhett."

Luke opened his eyes. Maddie lay spooned against him, her sweet
little ass snuggled up to his lap, her legs entwined with his, her hair tangled
and tickling his nose. He considered lifting a hand to shift the hair out of
his face, but that would mean giving up his grip on her breast. He wasn't
stupid.

Or was he?

Maddie Kincaid was every bit the firecracker in the sack that he'd
suspected. When he'd set out to give her the most romantic night of her life,
he'd never considered how it would affect him.

He'd had good sex before. Hell, he'd had great sex a time or two
in his life. But last night with Maddie... damn... he didn't know how to
describe it. Fantastic? Mind-blowing? Off the friggin' charts?

Still, Luke wasn't one to be led around by his dick. He'd never
formed an attachment with a woman because she'd proved to be a good lay. He'd
always been able to say goodbye and forget.

This time, he feared it might be different. Hell, he knew it would
be different. He'd never be able to look at a dish of vanilla ice cream again
without getting a hard-on.

Forget her. Right. Like that was going to happen. He'd have better
luck forgetting his own name. He might be able to say good-bye, but he'd never
forget.

But he was a short-timer in Brazos Bend. He couldn't forget that,
either. As soon as he solved the mystery of Jerry Grevas's murder or found
another way to prove her safe, he'd be out of here. The thought of saying
good-bye had his gut clenching.

Why? Luke wondered. In the past, he couldn't find his pants fast
enough. But Maddie Kincaid was different. She wasn't an easy lay or a one-night
stand. She wasn't that kind of woman.

She was... special.

Special. Great. Just great. He hadn't been able to forget her
before he'd taken her to bed. How the hell would he put her behind him now?

Special.

Yeah, well, she is. You can't deny it. And she's got you all tied
up in knots. Question is—how do you untangle yourself?

He eyed the sun-kissed curve of her shoulder, recalled her potent
beauty as she'd stood naked in the moonlight. He inhaled her fragrance, a heady
combination of Chanel, sex, and Maddie's own spice. He listened to the soft
snuffle of her breathing as she slept and remembered how she'd whimpered out
his name at the height of their passion. The sound had made him feel as powerful
as his Maserati.

Now he just felt anxious.