Skin Heat (17 page)

“Because you’re beautiful.”

The pleasure he felt in hearing her say that almost sent him to his knees. Women didn’t say such things to Zeke Noble. They saw only his family history and the fact that he drove an old truck and couldn’t buy them expensive gifts. His heart almost broke at the awful joy.

 

He looked oddly
vulnerable, Neva thought. She felt self-conscious standing in nothing but her panties, but when he skinned out of his jeans, it didn’t matter. He seemed to shake off the mood then. Zeke lifted her in his arms and tumbled them both into bed. His unexpectedly playful nature brought a smile to her face.

“Know we can’t . . .” He made a gesture with his fingers that should’ve been offensive, but instead Neva laughed because he’d obviously done it to avoid using a coarser word. “Still want to—”

“Fool around?”

“Yeah.” His relief was obvious.

How adorable. He found it difficult to use certain words around her, like she was too ladylike to hear them, let alone do such things. Unlike the men who pretended such care, he meant it. Tenderness spilled through her in the wake of arousal. It felt like it had been years since she’d wanted anyone like this—or had someone want her back in the same way.

“We should probably have a conversation first.” How she hated this part of modern life. “I’ve had four partners. Always used protection. You?”

“Three. And me, too.”

Huh, she had never been the experienced one in a relationship before. It was kind of nice. “Then I’d love to get naked and roll around with you.”

“Need these off.” He pulled on her panties and she lifted her hips.

With deft hands he drew them down, each delicate touch a caress that lit her up. She’d never felt anything as good. For a few seconds, he gazed at the panties in his hands and then tossed them over his shoulder with a wicked, delightful smile.

Zeke wore his boxers this time, and she started to take them off, but he stilled her by flattening a palm on her belly. The clinic didn’t leave her much time to work out, so she was soft, not tight. But he seemed enthralled. With his fingertips, he drew patterns on her skin and shivers went through her. Then he propped himself on an elbow and just lay beside her, studying her body. He now looked solemn in a way that couldn’t be good, considering they were in bed together.

“Everything all right?”

God, please don’t let him change his mind because he’s seen me naked in daylight.
Nerves started to overwhelm her.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea . . . I do have to work with him afterward.

“Just . . . scared is all.”

She forgot her fears in the face of his. “Why?”

“Never had it matter so much before. Doing it right.”

That was it. She fell. Her heart had been dancing on the edge of it from the first moment he heard her troubles and offered to solve them, from the first day he partnered with her in caring for those kittens. She had been fighting it tooth and nail because it seemed wrong for so many reasons. But now she was just
his
, and that was all.

“Would it help if I went first?” That seemed right, somehow. “But . . . there will be rules. You can’t touch me until I say so.”

A little tremor rolled through him. From his rapt expression, he liked the idea a lot. Neva wanted to please him more than she wanted her next breath. She didn’t wait for a verbal answer; she eased onto her side and kissed his throat. His head fell back. Zeke folded his arms and tucked them beneath his head.

She’d never done anything like this before; her sexual encounters had always been pretty basic. Some had been pleasurable, but she’d never needed to blow someone’s head off before. It mattered, partly because she wanted to erase any memory he might have of anyone else’s touch. Such possessiveness was also new.

Instinct kicked in. She planted kisses between his neck and shoulder, then used her teeth to nip him gently. He sucked in a breath and his knees came up. She thought he’d reach for her then, but he managed to keep his hands beneath his head. Impressive self-control, though longing radiated from every tense muscle.

Knowing she could make him feel that way . . . heady and empowering. And she hadn’t even done much of anything, yet. Neva nibbled a path down to his shoulders. She paused to admire his lovely lean build; his concave stomach sloped into his pelvis. She stroked his lower belly with her fingertips, tracing the muscles. His cock jumped in his boxers and he lifted his hips, breath coming faster.

“Please,” he whispered.

But she wasn’t going to let him rush her. Open-mouthed, she nuzzled his chest, rolling half atop him so that both her thighs framed his. His skin felt hot against hers, lightly roughened with hair. She rubbed against him, letting him feel her wetness. A low moan escaped him as she touched her tongue to his nipple. He was shaking now, incessant shivers and panting breaths that said he was hers to do with as she willed, and that certainty sent desire spiraling through her.

Neva rubbed her lips over his skin, licking and biting gently, until she found his other nipple. She alternated tongue and teeth, slowly working her hips against his thigh. He lifted it, and the new angle abraded her clit with the sweetest friction. Much more of this and she’d come all over his leg.

“You like this?” She knew the answer. She just wanted to hear his voice again, raw with passion.

“Love,” he growled.
“Love
.
”

He imbued that one word with impossible layers of meaning—somehow, spoken so, it became endearment, demand, and declaration. The front of his boxers showed damp with his excitement, clung to his cock. She couldn’t wait any longer to see and touch it. When she eased off him, he groaned in protest and reached for her, but he checked himself at her teasingly reproachful glance. Zeke bit off a gravelly curse and tucked his hands behind his head again.

“It’s still my show. You’ll get your turn.”

“If I live,” he muttered.

Still, he arched so she could skim away the last barrier between them.
Beautiful.
His iron-hard cock jutted from dark pubic hair—the tip glistened with his precome, and the whole length had flushed a ruddy hue with his desire. It twitched as she admired it and he moaned, but not in pain. Sheer need drew the sound from him.

He seemed to take pleasure in her gaze, but that didn’t content her long.

Neva spread his thighs with her hands and settled between them. But she didn’t go immediately for the prize. Instead she licked and nuzzled, teased his sac with little scrapes of her nails. His groans became incessant rather than intermittent ; she loved the lovely torment in his arching body. Zeke writhed against her mouth, and when she licked the curve of his hair-rough skin, he went wild.

He bucked, offering himself to the air, and she couldn’t deny him a second longer. She licked the ejaculate from his crown, and then took his shaft fully into her mouth. He thrust with a relieved groan, quick and shallow movements that told her he was close. But to her surprise, he stopped almost at once.

“Turn around.” It wasn’t a request.

He still hadn’t touched her but she found herself doing as he’d asked. She knew what he wanted and how to arrange herself. She lay down on him, knees on either side of his head. He didn’t use his hands, but
oh, his mouth . . .

Neva undulated, almost forgetting what she ought to be doing. Her hands shook as she guided his cock back between her lips. No finesse or teasing this time. She wanted to finish him almost as much as she wanted her own orgasm.

Pleasure built from the sweet, relentless sweeps of his tongue. His mouth felt like hot, damp satin and the gentle abrasion of his cheeks added to the sensation. She rocked faster, and his hips gained speed in tandem. Each shift brought them closer.

They came together. Her body stiffened and shook as she drank him down. For endless seconds, she savored his taste and the sweet little shocks that wracked him. Boneless, Neva let him turn her and draw her into his arms. They fit, soft and hard nestled together. She put her head on his chest and luxuriated in the feel of his heart against her ear, so strong and steady.
This
was a man she could count on. He wasn’t like other men—and that was the best part about him.

“How was that?” The ultimate exercise in vanity because she knew.

“Perfect.” Zeke buried his face in her hair, and each breath he took sent a shiver through her.

“We’ll get condoms for next time.”

He levered up on one elbow to gaze into her face. “Next time?”

“You don’t want to do it again?” God, if he’d only wanted a one-time hookup and a chance to blow off some steam, she might die of shame. In that case, she’d misunderstood everything. She’d thought—

“’Course. Wasn’t sure
you
would.”

She laughed shakily. “Don’t scare me like that, Zeke. I mean, I thought this was . . . something. Or that it could be, at least.”

“Not something,” he said gravely. “Everything.”

Emil was tired.
Oh, he could’ve taken the promotion that Birch had offered, but he still didn’t want it. He’d spent eight years in the army avoiding officer bars, and he didn’t intend to start climbing rank now. Plus being overworked meant he had less time to mourn. He’d once loved being out in the field and making a difference. Even now, he occasionally managed to find some satisfaction in his work, despite everything he’d lost.

Today wasn’t one of them.

The dive crew finished up while he supervised. A girl had gone missing near the river, and so they started a search. First they confined their efforts to the shore but as the hours wore on, it became clear they needed to look in the water. To his dismay, they’d found her half an hour ago. As senior officer, he got the pleasure of telling the parents, who were waiting at home for word. He’d sent them away from the scene because the mother’s constant crying wasn’t helping anybody.

With a faint sigh, he climbed in the car. The victim’s parents lived fifteen minutes away; he let GPS plot the route and worked out what he’d say to them. Rina had been better at the people skills. But she was gone.
Gone, gone, gone.
He’d put roses on her grave, and they would be dead by now, too, petals curled in, blackened and dry with the evening frost. That was how he felt inside. And ancient, too, as if he’d lived past his expiration date.

He listened to country music on the way. That would surprise people, he thought. They probably pegged him as a classical man, based on his taste in clothing. But everyone had secrets. Long ago, he’d compensated for his very Cajun name and eliminated all trace of Louisiana from his accent, unless he was stressed.

Hebert felt like he was wearing prison ankle weights as he went up the walk.
Hate this part of the job.
They knew as soon as he rang the bell. Mrs. Winston dissolved into sobs and her oldest daughter had to lead her away. Michelle had been the baby of the family.

Mr. Winston invited him in. It was a nice house, well kept, and decorated in typical Southern style. He refused coffee and perched uneasily at the edge of the sofa.

“The dive team found her a little while ago,” he said. “We don’t give this kind of news over the phone.”

“I appreciate that. What . . .” The older man trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“It appears she drowned. We won’t know for sure what more happened—if anything—until the report comes back from the medical examiner’s office.”

“Kim had a fight with Michelle earlier today. About some boy she wanted to date. We thought he was too old—she was only seventeen!—and she ran out of the house. That was the last time we saw her. Do you think . . . you don’t think—”

“I can’t speculate, sir. It’s best we wait for the facts. But I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Did that sound sincere? It
was
; he just wasn’t good at showing sympathy. That had been Rina’s job. She would lean forward and offer a consoling hand on the shoulder. He’d often wondered if motherhood had any impact on her public manner, whether she’d been different before. But he hadn’t known her then. They’d worked together for ten years, and her kids were three and four when they met. Thirteen and fourteen, now. She’d had them in her late twenties, married Preston fresh out of college. And sometimes he wanted to demand of the universe,
Why didn’t she wait for me? That was supposed to be
my
life.

At least work offered more relief than sitting at home, but it was . . . harder than it had been, too. He had to do things differently to compensate for her loss. They had been partners for a long time; such feelings were expected, according to the shrink. He just didn’t know what to do with them. God knew what Marlow would say if he knew the true depth of Hebert’s loss. He probably wouldn’t have released him.

After fielding a few procedural questions from Winston, he left. Hebert sat in the car feeling sick to his stomach. Maybe he should’ve taken the promotion after all. He liked the investigative aspects . . . the personal interactions, not so much. If one was in a position of authority, it mattered less if his subordinates found him distant or abrasive.

As he started the engine, his phone rang. His nerves jumped. Touching that phone was the last thing he should ever do, because it only ever meant bad news, but he did it anyway.

“Hebert.”

As he’d feared, Hal Birch spoke. “Got another job for you.”

“That’s great news.” His dry tone drew a laugh from his lieutenant.

“Not for the girl. There’s a Jane Doe down in Harper Creek. The locals don’t know what to make of her.”

He was already bringing the town up on GPS. It wasn’t more than an hour from where they’d found Michelle Winston. It had already been a long night, but they’d give him the day off to compensate. He did occasionally need to sleep.