Hands On (10 page)

“Ah.”
Brilliant comeback, Styles.
“What about the distraction thing?” Another sultry look like the one she just gave him, and he wouldn't give a shit about anything.

“We're supposed to be distracted right now. By each other.” She let the side of her hand trail down the shallow valley between his nipples toward the waistband of his shorts. “Besides, we're stuck in the room. There's not much else we can do.”

God, he wanted to see her breasts. Without the bra. He wanted to close his mouth around her nipples, suck her like a lollipop. “Cassie…” His voice came out ragged and broken. “I hope you know what you're doing.”

She pushed up against him, her breasts rubbing his chest and her tongue touching his lips. He opened his mouth and drew her tongue inside and ran his hands down the soft skin over her rib cage, the indention of her waist, the curve of her hip.

He moaned when she cupped his erection and stroked his cock through his shorts. He toyed with the leg elastic of her panties, slipping a finger inside until
it met soft springy hair. She stiffened slightly as he stroked her gently.

“Cassie, honey, take off your bra.”

She drew back without dislodging his hand and regarded him through glazed eyes. Her lips were moist and shiny, her flushed cheeks making her eyes incredibly blue. “What if this doesn't work? It'll affect our attitude toward each other.”

“Huh?” The bra looked as if it had a front clasp, but everything was so small these days you couldn't always tell.

“Are you listening to me?”

“What?”

“Dalton.”

He looked into her eyes and saw doubt. Big time. He continued his soft strokes, petting her like a tamed kitten. “What's wrong?”

“I know I started this…” She nibbled her lower lip and swiped at her tangled hair.

He brushed it away from her cheek with his free hand. “But you think it's a mistake,” he finished for her.

“No.” She pressed her lips together. “I have no idea why I—” She groaned. “I don't even like you. I don't.”

“Thanks.”

She looked away, her face filling with color. “I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm not myself.”

“This is an odd situation. We've been thrown together among a group of kooks, who are all strangers. That sort of undermines the fact that we were strangers
until five days ago. Now we're sort of co-conspirators.” He shrugged, amazed that he could have this conversation while his fingers were between her legs and his mind was spinning. “We have only each other to speak freely, to trust, to understand what's going on. Of course you might have feelings develop.”

She frowned. “You don't.”

“What?”

“Have any feelings.”

He exhaled slowly. “Look, agents who go undercover are sometimes pulled off their assignment because they get too close to the people they're supposed to be investigating. They get attached, disarmed by the perp's human frailties. It's natural.”

“Of course.” She looked down, and murmured, “So all this will pass after the case.”

“Sure.”

“So we just have to worry about looking like a real married couple.”

He frowned, not sure what she was getting at. It sounded a lot like rationalization. He nudged her chin up until their eyes met. “I'm only worried about the fastest way to get that bra off you. And not so I can do your laundry.”

That startled a laugh out of her.

“You have no idea what kind of wicked things I want to do to you.” To illustrate, he moved his finger an inch, to the cleft itself, already moist. He dipped inside, just for a second, although once he'd felt that
wet velvet, it was all he could do not to rip their clothes off and take her.

She openly shivered, and her lips parted with a moan. He kissed them lightly, briefly, reminding himself this could be a big mistake. He should stop. He couldn't.

“What about not mixing business with pleasure?”

“I figure this is both.” He found the clasp with his left hand and undid it, then pushed the lacy cups aside.

She gasped but didn't resist when he palmed her breast. She was soft yet firm, her nipple so responsive, he thought he might come before he got his friggin' pants off.

When she ran her hand over his erection, he knew he was in deep trouble. He lowered his mouth to her nipple and suckled it until she whimpered.

Still kissing her, he used his weight to lay her back, head on pillow, body open and ready for his next move. She tried to reach for his fly but he wouldn't let her touch him. Not yet. Not until he'd had his fill of her.

If that were even possible.

The sudden thought rattled him.

This was a perk, mutual chemistry that would make their roles all the more believable. That's all. No analysis necessary. She tasted so damn good….

A knock at the door made them both start.

“How are you two doing?” Incredibly, it was Mary Jane.

Cassie stiffened. “Can you believe her?”

“Don't answer.” He sucked in her other nipple and slid his finger up until he found her clitoris.

Another knock. “Hey, you two had better not have fallen asleep.”

“We have to answer or she won't go away.”

Dalton didn't care. He'd just tune her out. What he was doing was much more important. He circled her nub, and Cassie squirmed beneath him.

“Cassie? Dalton? You don't have much more time.”

Cassie opened her mouth as a slow smile curved her lips. She closed her eyes as he continued to stroke her, then, put a hand to her throat and let out a loud sexy moan. For real. “Oh, and, deeper, come on, deeper. Oh, oh…” She moaned again, and he let himself relax into her, circling her flesh insistently.

She whimpered, moaned, panted. “Don't stop. Please, again, deeper this time. Oh, baby…” Something shifted. Her body tensed around him, and when he looked up, he saw her face and neck flush, her eyes closed. The tone of her moaning changed, deepened, and he smiled. Almost there.

He took her nipple gently between his teeth, and flicked his tongue at the same rapid tempo as his finger. He wanted her to come, to hear the real sounds of Cassie as she climaxed. He might just join her without even touching himself.

Her breathing quickened, her hands gripped the bedspread, and her muscles grew as taut as bowstrings. “Dalton, oh God. What are you— Please, right there. Just a little… Oh, God.”

He picked up the pace with his hand, and let up on her nipple so he could see her face. A second later, her body arched off the bed in a spasm. She cried out, inarticulate and so, so sweet. He was so turned on by her face, her moans, he felt like he was going to explode. But he held off. This was for Cassie.

Her hand went to his wrist, and he stopped rubbing her. But she didn't stop shaking. Trembling. She opened her eyes and gave him a look of pure, unadulterated satisfaction.

He grinned, and that's when her rosy flush turned crimson.

Maybe it had been a mistake. Maybe it hadn't been good for the case. But dammit, he didn't care. Now that he'd seen her like this, he was hooked. He'd make her come again. And again. Or die trying.

C
ASSIE SAT
directly across from Dalton at dinner, wondering if she had totally lost her mind. The guy irritated her. He told blonde jokes, for goodness sakes. And now, she'd blown everything all to hell and back by having an orgasm!

It was her own damn fault, too. She'd been so sure of herself. So cocky. Taking off her blouse like that. Making sexy noises. It served her right.

Her face heated again as she remembered the feel of him, the way he'd known exactly how to touch her. How could she go back to the room tonight? And how on earth could they go back to the way they were before….

She'd totally given up so much as glancing at him. Twice now she'd embarrassed herself by stuttering over a question after having lost track of the dinner conversation.

After another embarrassed glance, she pulled herself together. It wasn't that big a deal, for heaven's sake. Why shouldn't she have something with Dalton that was strictly physical? She wasn't looking for a relationship, and certainly neither was he, so what was the harm?

“Cassie?”

She looked blankly at him.

“Would you like more potatoes?” he asked, signaling with his eyes.

She jerked when she realized Tasha stood beside her with the bowl of mashed potatoes in one hand and a serving spoon in the other. “Uh, no thanks,” she muttered, careful to avoid the others' curious gazes.

Mary Jane laughed. “Don't be embarrassed. Tasha is used to this kind of disorientation after the touching exercises. Amazing how it works, isn't it? You and Dalton can barely keep your eyes off each other.”

Cassie forced herself to smile, the blush coming naturally. That was so not true. She'd purposely avoided him, hadn't she? She darted a look his way and saw that he seemed a little uncomfortable, too. Had he been watching her as Mary Jane suggested?

“Oh, it's just as sweet and touching as could be.” Simone couldn't possibly look any more bored as she sipped her wine. As usual her food had barely been touched.

“Why don't you shut up?” Kathy startled everyone with her little outburst. She was usually so quiet, but her face was flushed and her blue eyes angry. “I don't even know why you're here, Simone, but you are, and making fun of the rest of us doesn't help anyone.”

Simone's brows rose in amusement. “This afternoon was obviously good for you. It's nice not to see you being such a timid little mouse.”

“Simone!” Mary Jane looked angrier than Cassie had ever seen her.

Tom glared at the redhead, his jaw tensed. “You're lucky you're a lady, or I'd have flattened you. But say something like that to my wife again and I may forget I'm a gentleman.”

Grant chuckled. “He called you a lady, Simone. I believe that's a first.”

She smiled in that bored-looking way of hers, clearly unfazed by either man's comment. But then she stared somewhere past Cassie, her expression suddenly wary.

“Simone, may I have a word with you?” It was Bask. He'd come through the kitchen door, his voice calm and controlled, but instantly getting Simone's attention.

She got up from the table and quietly followed him out of the dining room into the hall.

Cassie met Dalton's pensive eyes. They'd all been led to believe Bask had left for the evening.

“Well,” Mary Jane said brightly. “Are we almost ready for dessert? I believe homemade strawberry shortcake is on the menu tonight.”

No one answered at first. Kathy stared down at her plate, her face still red. Grant seemed oblivious to the fact that his wife had been called to the principal's office while he polished off his roast beef.

“I say bring on dessert. I don't know how much longer I can stay awake.” Dalton made a show of stifling a yawn.

Cassie murmured her agreement. What the heck was he up to? He wasn't tired, that much she knew. The keen look he'd given Bask meant the wheels were
turning in Dalton's head. She hoped he didn't have some stupid notion of following Bask. That would be useless, anyway. He probably returned home to Marianne's house each night.

Mary Jane promptly rang the bell and Tasha ducked in to get the signal for dessert. Within seconds she brought the strawberry shortcake out on a glass platter. It looked delicious. Too bad no one seemed as if they had an appetite. Except maybe for Grant.

The thought of his and Simone's disintegrating relationship depressed Cassie. They had to have loved and respected each other once. What happened in a marriage that made two people so indifferent to each other? Is this what she had to look forward to if she ever got married? It was both sad and scary.

Dalton wolfed down his shortcake as soon as Tasha served it. He told a beaming Tasha how fabulous she was and that if he weren't already married she'd have to watch out. Apparently she understood enough of what he'd said that she hummed her way back into the kitchen with the empty dinner plates.

Cassie had to admit that despite her own indifference toward the man, any woman would be proud to have a husband like Dalton. He never failed to thank Tasha for their meals, helped her carry anything heavy and was always quick with a joke when tension mounted within the group.

That proved it. She
was
crazy. Dangerous thinking. Very dangerous. Downright stupid.

As soon as Dalton stood, so did she. It was early yet, not totally dark, and she had no idea what he had
in mind. She hoped to get him to go for a walk in the garden while they discussed their next step. If they went directly to the bedroom, there wouldn't be any talking…

“Don't forget that we all need to get up an hour earlier tomorrow morning,” Mary Jane said, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of chairs moving and people murmuring.

“Why?” Harvey grimaced.

“Oh, didn't I tell you?” She gave them that wide bright smile that got on Cassie's nerves. “Tomorrow we're going on a little excursion.”

She hadn't mentioned any sort of outing before now. They all looked at each other and then expectantly at her.

“We're going on a nature walk to learn about the birds and the bees.”

 

“D
AMMIT
, I wish I knew if Bask has left already.” Dalton stood at their bedroom window, staring outside through the part in the drapes. “I can only see part of the driveway from here, but it doesn't matter since he could have left anytime in the last hour.”

Cassie had just come out of the bathroom after changing into her nightshirt. The radio was on for interference, but he'd spoken too loudly. She moved closer and whispered, “I could go ask Mary Jane. Tell her I had a couple of questions for him.”

“Or I could go to the kitchen for something…” Dalton let the drapes fall into place and turned around.
“…and see if his car is still—” His voice trailing off, he stared at her.

“What?” She had decided against wearing a bra or shorts under her nightshirt. But he wouldn't know the difference, would he? And for goodness sakes, he'd already…

He noisily cleared his throat and turned back to the window. “I think I'll go see if his car is still in the carport.”

“Dalton…”

“Yeah?” He wouldn't turn around.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing, my foot,” Cassie insisted, feeling dejected. He obviously already regretted this afternoon. He'd kept his distance from her and had done nothing but talk business ever since they got to the room. God, she wanted to sink into the floor. “You look disgusted with me, or something.

“Disgust is not what I'm feeling, trust me.”

“Would you please look at me?”

Slowly he turned around.

“What's wrong?”

He shoved a hand through his hair, looking uneasy. “You haven't finished telling me about your conversation with Bask today.”

She moved closer still so she could lower her voice. “There's really nothing more. He clearly didn't want me in his office. Our conversation was short. I said I wanted out of the marriage. He said I should keep
trying. The subject of money was skirted, but he got a fax and pretty much chased me out of his office.”

“That's it?”

“I told you I didn't have anything really.” It hurt that his tone was suddenly all business, as if this afternoon hadn't happened.

His gaze ran down her body, lingering on her thighs.

She crossed her arms in a protective gesture. “I wish you'd tell me what's wrong.”

He muttered a curse, and all at once he grabbed her arms and pulled her to him before she could react. He kissed her hard and deep and, when she sagged against him, his hands traveled down her back and under the hem of her shirt.

When he discovered she wore thong panties, he groaned and cupped her cheeks, pulling her hard against him. He was already aroused, growing harder by the second and she had trouble catching her breath.

“Dalton,” she finally was able to whisper. “Maybe we shouldn't—”

He kissed her silent, his large hands squeezing her as if he couldn't get enough of her. Tempted to pull off her nightshirt, she wound her hands around his neck instead.

To her disappointment, he retreated, but only, she quickly realized so that he could slide his hands up the front of her body. He reached her breasts and palmed them, his sharp intake of breath turning her on as much as his urgent touch.

Her nipples responded instantly and he pinched the hardening nubs lightly between his thumbs and fingers.

She worked her hands under his shirt, running her palms over the swell of his pectoral muscles, experiencing the hardening of his nipples.

“Cassie, honey, take your shirt off.” He'd barely got out the words as he kissed and nibbled the corners of her mouth, her jaw, the soft skin behind her ear. “I want to see you.”

She grew so wet she wanted to forget that she had second thoughts. And instead, lie beside him, feel the length of him slide deep inside of her.

“Dalton, I don't— Oh. God.” She arched her head back when he kneaded her breasts in a maddeningly sensual way that made her want to push him backward onto the bed and have her way with him. Screw being an adult.

Except this was not only an important case, but her first, and she didn't want to let Jennifer down.

He lowered his head and through the nightshirt, he suckled one of her nipples. She strained against him, wishing the damn fabric were out of the way.

Damn, damn, damn.

“Dalton.” She kissed his forehead, trying to take some of the sting out of what she was about to say. “We need to talk.”

He moved his mouth to her other breast and she closed her eyes. His hands remained under her shirt, kneading and touching and chipping away at her resolve.

“Dalton, did you hear me?”

He drew back, and she let out a breath mixed with relief and disappointment, but then he lifted her night-
shirt and stared at her breasts. He kissed the crown of one, and then the other before letting her shirt fall back in place.

“I heard you,” he said, raising his glassy gaze to hers.

“Having second thoughts?”

“No. Maybe. I'm just trying to be a professional here.”

With a lightning-quick move, he had her against him, his tongue in her mouth and she melted into him. He broke contact almost as quickly and she stumbled without his support. “You mean like that?” He grinned.

She hadn't uttered a single protest. She'd dived right in. Embarrassed, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.

“Don't worry about it, honey. We've both got some thinking to do.” He touched her cheek. “Besides, I have to go out for a while.”

“Where?”

“Check out a hunch.”

“Are you going to clue me in?”

“Later. I promise.”

She didn't believe him. “You're leaving because of me, aren't you?”

“No.” He gave his head an adamant shake. “That's why I wanted to know if Bask had left. I wanted to leave to make a phone call, ask one of my buddies at the bureau to check something for me.”

“Oh.” She rubbed her arms. He looked earnest enough, but she still didn't like that he'd be gone. “I'll
do some reading while you're gone. If Mary Jane asks for you I'll tell her we had a fight and you left to cool off.”

His expression fell briefly, probably remembering how he'd taken off after their morning session. “Good plan. I shouldn't be long.”

His gaze fell to her bare legs and his chest heaved. Abruptly he turned to leave.

“Dalton, wait.” She went to him and got close enough to feel his heat, the warmth of his breath. She wanted desperately to kiss him again, but she wouldn't. “We've been talking too loudly. They've heard everything.”

Guilt flickered in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “About the bugging…there isn't any. It started as a joke and then when I realized we had to get cozy every time we wanted to talk and—ah, shit. I lied.”

Cassie smiled. “I know.”

 

D
ALTON HADN'T BROUGHT
his cell phone. He'd wanted nothing on him or in the car that might give him away. He drove to the convenience store he'd used earlier in town, where he'd bought a calling card and then used their payphone. He didn't like that it faced the street but he'd made sure Bask had left the house some time ago, and at least there wasn't much traffic.

He punched his old partner's cell phone number and waited for his friend to pick up.

“Hello.”

“Frank, it's me.”

“Hey, you back in Chicago?”

“Nope, still in Texas.”

“So why are you calling so damn late?”

Dalton shook his head. It was only nine-thirty, but anything after nine was late to Frank.

“I know, but this is business. I have a couple of names I want you to check out for me.”

“You working undercover?”