Skin Game Part 9

"Nope. I watched a lot of Sesame Street Sesame Street early on. And my dad taught me some. I can read." At his look, she became defensive. "I learned a lot traveling. More than most kids do just sitting around some Podunk town for eighteen years." early on. And my dad taught me some. I can read." At his look, she became defensive. "I learned a lot traveling. More than most kids do just sitting around some Podunk town for eighteen years."

"I didn't say anything."

She glared. "You were thinking it. This is why I don't tell people s.h.i.t. They always think they know something about me from how I was raised."

Reyes reached for her then, not calculating the probable outcome of his actions. He pulled her into his lap and sifted his hand into her tangled curls. She surprised him by yielding, not fighting him like a wildcat, and her body felt like seven kinds of heaven in his arms.

"I think you turned out fine," he said quietly, knowing she needed to hear it as much as it was true. "You're smart and funny, skilled and resourceful. And if you were any more appealing, I'd lose my mind."

"You mean that." Her voice came out soft and wondering, as she turned her face against his throat.

"I do." At this point, she'd cast some kind of wicked spell on him, and he couldn't do anything but tell the truth. Reyes genuinely feared what might come next.

Jesus, he thought, shaken. Then he realized-whatever had happened the first time he'd touched her, it didn't seem to be happening now. That new development had to mean something, but what? he thought, shaken. Then he realized-whatever had happened the first time he'd touched her, it didn't seem to be happening now. That new development had to mean something, but what?

And her mouth took his in a kiss that threatened to burn the leather off his shoes.

CHAPTER 12.

" So do you do this a lot?" Kyra asked.

Beside her, Rey stirred. "Depends on what you mean by 'this'?"

"Lure women into their own backseats and then don't don't take advantage of them." take advantage of them."

"No condoms," he reminded her in a long-suffering tone.

Man, she couldn't believe she had to do this, after the s.e.x they'd had. But it seemed he needed a nudge. The man had taken her joking comment about working for it far too literally.

"There are other things we could do."

"Oh, really?" His lazy tone belied the sudden tension in his body.

"Mmm-hmm." She rather liked the switch, the pretense she was seducing him.

Rain drummed on the roof, shrinking their universe to two. Body heat had already started to steam the windows. Imagine what they could do if they put their minds to it.

"Did you have anything particular in mind?"

"You talk too much."

Kyra pulled his mouth to hers and wrapped her arms around his neck. His response sent tiny bursts of pleasure careening through her bloodstream, as his lips toyed with hers, every bit as darkly sensual as she remembered. But there was an added edge to his kiss; they both knew he couldn't go beyond a certain point, and it added a layer of thrilling risk. She shivered as he ran his mouth down her throat, teeth sinking lightly into the delicate skin. The light pain heightened her senses, making her more aware of his body heat, the hardness of him.

"Better," she breathed, tipping her head back.

In the sultry dark, she couldn't see him, but she felt his smile on her skin. "I know a fun game for us to play."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"Teenagers," he whispered. "Neither one of us have ever been in a backseat, have we? You've never worried about letting a boy touch your breast under your shirt, but over your bra."

He wasn't touching her there, but at his words, she felt the heat of phantom fingertips. Her nipples furled, and her breath came a little faster. She could envision it so clearly: a desperately h.o.r.n.y kid wanting to touch her, so primed he could come in his pants just from the idea.

His gravelly voice dropped even lower, rasping, "And you've certainly never felt the temptation to let him inside your jeans and stroke you over your panties, where in his clumsy eagerness he brushes your c.l.i.t for the first time."

She sucked in a shuddering breath and had to clench her thighs against the resultant image, but she got into the spirit of things. "I don't think we should do more than kiss," she told him primly. "It's too easy to get carried away."

Rey brushed his fingers against her bare belly, revealed by the gap between shirt and jeans. "Okay," he whispered. "Just kissing."

"Good. That's good."

When he lowered his head, she expected a gentle mouth kiss in keeping with their game, but instead he touched his lips to the base of her throat, measuring her pulse. He could surely feel it skipping like mad against his mouth. His hands skated up to her sides as he nuzzled her collarbone. Her breath went in a dizzying rush.

She pressed her thighs together tighter, not in self-preservation, but to try to ease the need building there. Each point where he touched her, fingers along her ribcage, thumbs circling on her upper belly, felt impossibly warm. Those thumbs would feel so good on her nipples, big and rough. Kyra made a sound in her throat, as he nibbled his way up to her jaw and on to her ear. When he took the lobe between his teeth and bit down with exquisite gentleness, she arched her back, trembling.

"Are you sure I can't go under your shirt, Kyra? I'll stop the minute you say."

More than anything, she wanted to say to h.e.l.l with it and take him inside her, but the no-condom problem was still in effect. She managed to keep the game alive by whispering, "Only on top of my bra. Don't take my clothes off."

G.o.d, how could she feel this tremulous excitement over role-play? But as heat trailed up her belly to the side of her breast, she felt as if she'd never been touched before. Rey caressed her in slow sweeps, like a kid getting bolder. His fingertips fanned while he circled his thumbs closer, centering her yearning on one tiny point. A little whimper escaped her when he finally brushed her tight nipple.

"You're so pretty," he murmured against her throat. "Am I turning you on? Are your panties damp, Kyra?"

Yes. G.o.d, yes.

Thinking a good girl wouldn't be able to say it aloud, she nodded, eyes downcast. He played with her for what felt like hours, smoothing through the thin silk of her bra. She didn't need much support so she went with decorative sc.r.a.ps, and she felt every touch, every stroke, every caress. Rey kept his touch heartbreakingly gentle and delicate when he knew she liked it rough. Kyra hadn't known she'd enjoy this, too.

"Can I touch you over your panties?"

She just moaned, needing an o.r.g.a.s.m fiercely. Heart beating like a trip hammer, she broke character and went for his zipper. She had to struggle to get it down because of the straining erection. His breath caught when she curled her hand around his c.o.c.k, but he didn't try to stop her. Rey's fingers were busy now, too, delving beneath the waistband of her panties.

Kyra arched as he found her c.l.i.t. No more pretense now. They weren't innocent kids, however powerful the play might have been. He knew how to strum her body into quaking, and he did it like a virtuoso. She was less sure about the way she handled him, but by the way he bucked and shook, she must be doing all right. They came in each other's hands, shivering, shuddering, as rain crashed down overhead.

"Mmm." She stretched and licked her fingers.

He caught her to him and buried his face in her hair. "G.o.d, woman. What you do to me . . . why do you always smell like the beach?"

She was too dreamy to answer. Shortly, she slept, and in the morning, they moved on. A quick stop at the motel permitted them to wash up and collect their belongings. Reyes could probably tell she had a plan, but she wasn't sharing the details even now. It was driving him nuts.

New Mexico yielded to Colorado. This time of year, it was brown and dry, spiked with occasional greenery alongside the road. Kyra loved the west and how the sky seemed to stretch on forever. It made for easy if monotonous driving, and their route angled lazily northeast.

Kyra had known without him telling her that Rey would rather not go through Wyoming. It would be hard not to look for his mother there especially, and she wondered if he found himself searching the eyes of strangers for a hint of recognition. For the first time, she was glad her mom had died; at least she didn't have to live with knowing she was unwanted.

By tacit agreement, they decided to stop in Denver. It was a larger city than she usually selected, but they might make a little more money here. That wasn't her primary concern, of course. She had money, and if she could get to Mia in North Dakota, she'd be able to do something with it at last. She'd be sorry to ditch her new partner when the time came, but those were the breaks. He'd do fine with what he'd learned from her.

For a change, Rey had the wheel as they drove into the city. Since he'd proved he knew how to handle a delicate machine, Kyra let him spell her now and then. She lifted her arms over her head and gazed out the window at pa.s.sing buildings.

"This all right?" He'd picked a cheap motel within a couple miles of downtown.

"Fine. We can work from here. I'm thinking we'll want to spend two or three days working different joints."

"Do you have somewhere in mind?" he asked as he parked.

Kyra shook her head. "I've never been to Denver before. It'll take me a little while to nose around and find a couple of likely spots. I'll ask the desk clerk first. They're usually a good source on local color."

"Good thinking."

She couldn't help but notice that he seemed distracted. He'd been a little strange and distant ever since they spent the night in the back of the Marquis, doing nothing but snuggling. "Everything okay?"

"That guy on the bike-no, don't look-use the rearview mirror."

A little shiver went through her as she did as he asked. Pretending to fluff her hair, she checked out the scruffy-looking dude on the red Kawasaki Ninja. His personal hygiene didn't match the gleam of his bike, which meant it was new. He'd recently come into money.

"What about him?"

"I'm pretty sure he's been with us since we crossed the state line."

"But that was hours ago!"

"Yeah." Rey nodded. "Maybe he just likes the look of your Marquis."

"Your gut says no."

Rey angled, regarding her seriously. "Is anyone hunting you?"

She hesitated. "There might be."

"If you don't trust me, we'll just have to be on our guard. Pay no special attention to him as we get out. I'll be watching for him, though."

The man on the Kawasaki pretended not to see them. He was ostensibly fiddling with something on his bike, but Reyes could tell he was watching with his mirrors. Looking in that direction would tell him Reyes had made him, so he followed Kyra into the office.

This motel was nicer than the ones they had been staying in. Denver had an upscale vibe that had reached even the seedy portions. It was a small lounge done in lemon yellow with two scratchy new sofas, a.s.suming somebody would want to hang around here. The linoleum had seen better days, but they'd covered it with a cheerful area rug in primary colors, geometric pattern.

The girl at the counter looked to have at least as much Hispanic blood as Reyes, and her name tag read "Maria." "Hi there, can I help you?"

"Two rooms," Kyra said, and disappointment slid through him. "Three nights. We don't have a reservation."

"Not a problem, unless there's a convention in town . . . and there isn't."

"Do you have any adjoining rooms?"

Well, that's better than nothing.

While Kyra took care of check-in, Reyes found the men's room. Immediately, he dug out his cell phone and dialed Foster. The man answered on the third ring every time without fail.

"I trust you have something to report," Foster said in lieu of greeting.

"I hope to shortly. Trust takes time, as I've told you before. I have a question. Did you hire anyone else to locate Ms. Beckwith?"

There was a weighty silence. "Do I need need to?" to?"

"No," Reyes said. "But it seems as though we've picked up a tail along the way. I wanted to find out if he's one of yours before I neutralized him."

"If my employer has done this, he did not discuss it with me," Foster said. "Therefore, anything that befalls the man would be a result of poor planning."

That would be tacit permission to off the guy. "Are you positive your employer lets you in on every move he makes?"

"I am sure of nothing, but I consider this ninety-nine percent. I must warn you, however . . . my employer lacks both subtlety and patience. You have a week at most to finish the job."

s.h.i.t. Serrano had reached the point where he wanted results ahead of method. It wouldn't matter to him if Reyes had to torture the woman extensively or beat her into ground chuck to get the information out of her. Fear spiked through him. Serrano had reached the point where he wanted results ahead of method. It wouldn't matter to him if Reyes had to torture the woman extensively or beat her into ground chuck to get the information out of her. Fear spiked through him.

"I'll deliver," he said. "I always do."

Foster made a brief sound of amus.e.m.e.nt. "I know. That's why I hired you."

He hit "end" on the phone and leaned his head against the cool tile. Reyes had to face it. Somewhere along the way, he'd gotten emotionally attached. He didn't do that; he never never did that. Though he didn't like killing women, he'd done four in his career. He'd walked away from more offers than he'd taken; he didn't want a payday that came from offing some guy's middle-aged wife so the a.s.shole could marry the mistress without worrying about alimony. did that. Though he didn't like killing women, he'd done four in his career. He'd walked away from more offers than he'd taken; he didn't want a payday that came from offing some guy's middle-aged wife so the a.s.shole could marry the mistress without worrying about alimony.

"f.u.c.k," he bit out.

Reyes fought the urge to punch something. He didn't want to forfeit his reputation, but he didn't want to kill her, either. Not anymore. Not since she'd come beneath his fingers, his name stretched into a sweet little cry. Maybe he was every bit as much of a sucker for her as Serrano had been, but he couldn't muster up any indignation. He just wanted to make love to her again.

Rock, meet hard place.

By the time he came out of the bathroom, he'd managed to compose himself, phone tucked away into its secret hiding spot. Paranoid to a fault, he kept it turned off when he wasn't using it. Kyra had finished, and she stood with the key cards in their little envelopes, chatting with the clerk.

"Just pool halls . . ." Maria was saying. "Umm. Rack 'Em in Aurora is good for pool. Or you could try Pete's on East Colfax."

Kyra nodded. "Great, thanks."

"You ready?" He didn't know whether she'd want to go out tonight after driving all day. It was sobering to realize how short a time he'd known her, relatively speaking.

"Yep." She headed back to the Marquis.

Reyes walked behind her, scanning the parking lot for trouble. The red Kawasaki was still there, but he didn't see the bearded guy. Maybe he was just visiting somebody here-or meeting someone. People often didn't want to have affairs on their home turf, so they'd meet up in a town where n.o.body knew either of them. The biker might've come from New Mexico to meet his piece on the side. They might be upstairs right now, doing the horizontal mambo, moaning over how much sharper and more exciting it was to do it when it felt like they were getting away with something.

She cut him a look as she demanded the car keys. "I'll pull around back. We're on the other side, upstairs."

"Thanks. I hate ground-floor rooms." Not that he'd stayed in such places for years. He had a gorgeous condo in Long Beach that he hadn't seen in weeks.

Ducking her head, she looked a little shy. "I know. I remembered."

"So you booked upstairs for me?" d.a.m.n. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had taken note of his personal preference and tried to accommodate. A weird sensation made his chest feel like it was too small.