Waking the Dead Part 18

"You saved my . . ." She stopped abruptly, narrowing her eyes. It had been a blur of action, but she hadn't been in any danger. Unless. . . "The pool cue?"

He smiled humorlessly. "If he'd connected, you'd be nursing the mother of all headaches right now."

She'd been shoved to her knees, she recalled. Not by the press of the crowd, but by Sharper. "But he hit you instead."

"Like I need the reminder."

Her gaze lowered to his chest. And remembering the sound the cue had made when it'd smacked him had her feeling a little sick. "Why would you do that?" She was honestly baffled.

"Why would I . . . yeah, I forgot. You're the woman of steel. Did I offend your super-agent sensibilities? Excuse me all to h.e.l.l." His voice dripped derision. "Next time I'll step aside and let the idiot whale on you."

His sarcasm sailed by her. Cait was still grappling with the ramifications of his actions. Zach peered more closely at her. "Haven't you ever had a man step up to protect you?"

She lifted a shoulder impatiently. It was a nonissue. She didn't need a male to protect her when she was usually perfectly capable of doing it herself. But his question gave her pause. Because she hadn't always had the training she'd acquired in the course of her work for Raiker. And Cait was trying-and failing-to remember a time prior to that when anyone in her life had tried to protect her. From anything.

"I almost got mugged once," she recalled suddenly. The memory was hazy. It'd been nearly twenty years ago. They'd been in Milan. Or maybe Rome. "The man I was dating threw the guy my purse so he'd let us go." She didn't bother to mention that the man had been fifteen years her senior. Some details weren't pertinent.

She was surprised by his loud bark of laughter. "Your boy-friend gave up your money? What a prince."

His mockery had annoyance rising. "And what would you have done? Chased the guy down and beat an apology from him?"

"d.a.m.n straight."

His verbal machismo wouldn't have been so irritating if she weren't so certain it was accurate.

"I guess you had to be there." It had seemed slightly more heroic at the time. Of course she'd been sixteen. A bit more impressionable than she was now. "My ex-fiance once gave me a gift certificate to a women's self-defense course for my birthday."

"I have a news flash for you, Slim. The guys you dated were d.i.c.ks."

The fact that he'd summed up the men in question so precisely when it had taken her months, and one very messy broken engagement, to do the same wasn't particularly flattering. But no one knew better than she that shaking out the men from her past would result in a pile of users, losers, and liars. And that said far more about her than them.

"So . . . I guess you keep the ten then. Like you said. Call it even."

He c.o.c.ked a brow. "Ten bucks for your life? Seems about fair." He paused a beat. "Of course I also might have saved you some professional embarra.s.sment. If you'd landed in the hospital with a concussion, it would have been hard to explain to your boss."

Amus.e.m.e.nt stirred. "So now I owe you, is that it?"

"Then there's the pain and suffering aspect. Probably going to bruise where that guy connected." He lifted a hand to brush over his chest. Gave a theatrical wince.

"My tab's mounting."

"Don't worry, though." His voice in the semishadows was pure wicked invitation. "I've got a payment plan in mind."

She'd just bet he did. "Let's keep things in perspective. It's not like you threw yourself under a bus for me."

He tapped his finger against his lips. "One kiss. Just one. Then call us square."

Cait eyed him dubiously. If he was trying for innocence with that expression, she could have told him his effort was wasted. He looked about as innocent as the serpent in the Garden of Eden, offering Eve a bite of that Granny Smith.

And like Eve, she found the temptation overpowering.

She made a production of releasing her seat belt. Noticed his had never been fastened. And slowly, with a great deal of antic.i.p.ation, leaned over to touch her lips against his.

Their previous kiss had been too brief. Unsatisfying. It hadn't allowed her to test for herself whether there was any softness in the man. To tell if he was all hard edges and steely resolve. Or whether she was fooling herself by believing his tough exterior really masked a depth that she'd occasionally caught glimpses of.

He was motionless, and that surprised her. If he had tried to take control of the depth or speed, it would have been all too easy to stop. To pull away and end the evening with a glib comment and more than a little regret. But since he didn't-since he allowed her to set the pace-she found herself relaxing infinitesimally. And took her time discovering some answers about the man for herself.

Her lips parted slightly to explore his. They were softer than she would have thought. With a firmness that held promise. She scored his lower lip with her teeth, and smiled at his sharply hissed in breath. It would be easy to get used to this. To tease and taste without worrying that it wouldn't lead any further. That it couldn't. To indulge in a fantasy that, if she was honest, had lingered in the corner of her mind like a persistent ghost.

The console between them made it difficult to get closer. To change the angle and deepen the kiss. But she leaned nearer, sliding her bandaged palm over his smooth jaw. And when she slicked her tongue along the seam of his lips, he exploded into action.

His arms sped out to lift her up and over the dividing console so she sat across his lap, all without breaking contact. His mouth ate at hers, pressing her lips apart so his tongue could sweep in, staking a claim.

And she couldn't resist reveling in the torrent she'd unleashed for another minute. Or maybe two.

He was good at this. No surprise there. There was a basic carnal pleasure to be had in the mingling of breath. The clash of lips, teeth, tongues. But when the sensation kick-started need, she mentally clawed for reason. Found it surprisingly difficult to summon.

A man with this much appeal was dangerous on a level she hadn't even contemplated. If he could have her setting aside logic with a mere kiss . . . The thought fragmented when he nipped at her lip. Re-formed as he soothed at the tender area with the tip of his tongue. Then he posed a risk she couldn't afford. And she'd given up her risky behaviors years ago.

With effort, she drew in a breath. Tried to shift away. And found him matching her movement for movement without releasing her mouth.

Against her lips he murmured, "Technically if we don't come up for air it's still only one kiss."

He was nothing if not creative. His hand slid beneath her tank, and she jerked a little at the contact. His fingers spread against her skin, each digit an individual brand. And the sneaky little thought occurred that she could touch him that way, too. Her palms itched with the need to reciprocate.

She slipped her hand under his T-shirt and smiled against his lips when she felt his stomach muscles jump and clench beneath her touch. There didn't seem to be an ounce of spare flesh on him. Just hair-roughened skin layered over muscle. Peaks and hollows where bone met sinew. And she knew in a flash it had been a mistake to touch him this way. Each step brought a greater intimacy. And fueled the need for more.

His palm crept upward to cup her breast, and she could feel her nipple tighten as he brushed it, behind the lace of her bra. Senses seemed unbearably heightened. There was a growing antic.i.p.ation as if every nerve ending she had was poised, waiting for a deeper contact. At the same time Zach drew her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down, not quite gently. The dual a.s.sault sent little sparks of desire firing through her veins.

As their mouths twisted together, thought receded. There was only the taste of him, dark and faintly primitive. His hands, slightly roughened, that knew just how to touch. Just how to tease and tantalize until she strained against him, begging for closer contact.

And then his fingers slipped inside her bra to cover her breast, and excitement thrummed through her system.

Her movements lacked finesse as she bunched his shirt upward. Skated both palms over his chest, her touch softening when she felt the slight jerk of his body. Fingers skimming tenderly over the area that was probably already bruising. Her eyelids fluttered. But she couldn't drag them open to check. Pent-up need was pumping through her, lending a sense of urgency.

The urgency dimmed the alarm bells shrilling in her mind. Didn't still them completely. They were too well constructed for that. But muted them to a point that made it incredibly easy to ignore them altogether.

There was a surprising pleasure to be found here, pressed closely against him. To feel the leap in his chest when she sc.r.a.ped one of his nipples with her nail. To hear his breathing lose it's steady rhythm and grow just a little choppy. And to feel. G.o.d, to feel. His fingers drew her nipple to a tight knot of nerves that shot shocks of desire straight to her womb.

She was used to inspiring desire in men. Desire that had everything to do with how she looked rather than who she was. So there was no reason for the evidence of this man's desire to fill her with a thrilling sense of female satisfaction. No reason for it to amp up her need for him until it threatened to blur common sense. Blind her to consequences.

His thumb flicked her nipple. The sensual rhythm had her squirming on his lap. "Been a long time since I made out in my car."

She could feel every word formed beneath her lips. One kiss. She recalled the invitation. And he'd yet to relinquish her mouth.

"Do I stay or go, Cait? Your call."

Everything inside her stilled. She was distantly aware that he'd frozen, too, as if in antic.i.p.ation of her response. Neither of them seemed to breathe while they waited for her response.

A response, that, when it came, took her as much by surprise as it seemed to him.

"Stay." The word was breathed against his lips. For a moment he didn't react. Neither of them did. There was a brief flare of panic as she considered her choice. Then that was diminished, as his breath streamed out of him. And the tethers harnessing his control seemed to fray.

There was a ferocious hunger evident now as his mouth ate at hers. His arms wrapped around her, a tight band that pressed her closer to his chest. A light flickered as he shifted. She felt herself being carried.

By the time she had her eyes dragged open to half mast they were standing in front of her motel door. She blinked, dazed. The man seemed endlessly resourceful. His lips moved to the corner of her mouth. "Key."

"Purse. Outside pock-" Then sighed a little as his lips settled more firmly over hers again. She was dimly aware that he'd hung the purse on the doork.n.o.b while he went in search of the key. Mentally congratulated him when the door swung open a few moments later.

Then thought spun away as they were inside the room in two quick paces. She heard a thud. Then the door closed. And with a speed that was dizzying, found herself on her feet and pressed up against it.

There was no teasing in his touch now. Just raw unvarnished need with the slightest sheen of desperation. And that fanned the flames of her own desire to a scorching level. Their mouths twisted together in a kiss that was deep. Wet. Frankly carnal. Hands battled to unfasten snaps and b.u.t.tons and zippers.

She wasn't used to this rollicking in her pulse. This fierce compulsion to strip him bare so there'd be nothing but flesh against flesh with no whisper of air between them. To explore every hard angle of his shoulders and chest. The surprising softness of the skin on his sides. And lose herself in a journey of discovery that she didn't want to end.

He released her mouth long enough to divest her of shirt and bra, and she hastened to shove his tee up and over his head. Then moaned a little at that first sensation of skin against skin. His fingers threaded in her hair to cup the back of her head as he sank into another kiss.

Heat, a quick stabbing spear of it, arrowed up her spine. It wasn't enough to run her palms over his arms, down the strong back. She tore her mouth away from his, tried to get her breath. Lost it in the next moment when his hands cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Fingers stroking and lightly squeezing by turn.

She nipped at his shoulder in a savage thirst for flesh. Pushed the jeans she'd loosened down his narrow hips. And gave a purr of satisfaction when his heavy s.e.x sprang forward, hard and ready.

When her hand wrapped around him, his hips jerked, then stilled. But she could feel him quivering in her palm. Straining for release. Her fingers glided down the shaft and back up. Once. Twice. Again. Then faltered in their rhythm as he leaned down to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

Colors fragmented behind her eyelids. And when his teeth sc.r.a.ped the nipple, an edgy blade of need nicked over nerve endings already unbearably sensitized. Her shorts were shoved aside and his fingers, those clever wicked fingers, traced the seam of her leg teasingly before delving inside her panties. Cupping her where she was damp and heated.

Her head lolled, her breath coming in short ragged pants. He took advantage of the position to raise his head and cruise his mouth along her throat, closing his teeth on the sensitive cord there. And when he parted her folds and slipped one finger inside her, Cait's knees went to water.

Sensation after sensation battered at her. Even as he explored her, his thumb pressed and released against her c.l.i.toris in a rhythm designed to drive her to madness.

It was a journey she was determined not to take alone.

She traced the length of him with dancing fingers, alternating between a lighter touch and the firmer one his hunger would demand. And had a moment of pure feminine satisfaction when he thrust against her hand demandingly.

The feeling was replaced by satisfaction of another sort, when the first shattering climax ripped through her, graying her vision and startling a cry from deep in her throat.

"Yes." She heard his voice in her ear. Struggled to recover from the eddies of pleasure still battering her. "More. Again."

She shook her head weakly. It was too much. Too soon. She couldn't think. Couldn't tear away the fog of release to climb the slippery slope of desire again.

But he proved her a liar in the next moment. His touch deft and insistent, he had pleasure building again in long lush waves. Helplessly, her hands climbed to his shoulders. Clutched there as her body quaked and followed him up and up and up to the peak he was relentlessly driving her toward.

Then pushed her over it. Ruthlessly using hands and lips and teeth to intensify sensation from a thousand individual pulse points so the implosion went on and on until she was a weak shuddering ma.s.s. Grateful for the solid support of the door behind her.

Cait felt him move away, lifted a protesting hand. And had to force open eyelids that seemed weighted. Zach was stripping with quick frantic movements. Digging into his pocket for a foil wrapper that he seemed to have an inordinate amount of difficulty opening.

"s.h.i.t."

The edge of desperation to his voice had her smiling. And since feeling was beginning to return to her limbs, she said, "Let me."

"I don't think so. I know my limits." He swore again, savagely, before finally ripping the package and donning the condom.

His choice of words gave her pause. For a man who knew his limits, he seemed dangerously close to the edge of them now. Antic.i.p.ation pooled in the pit of her stomach. Because she was going to do her level best to tip him over.

Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts she dragged them over her hips and let them fall to the floor before stepping out of them. Then caught his gaze on her. Heavy-lidded and intent. And impossibly, the blood in her veins turned molten.

The wisp of black panties hadn't been chosen with seduction in mind. But from the expression on his face, they worked admirably in that regard.

He took two quick steps and she was in his arms again. And this time she could feel the tiny tremors coursing through his body. Feel his shredding restraint in the pressure of his kiss. And knew, as a bolt of exhilaration twisted through her, that she'd never caused such genuine unvarnished need. It elicited an answering hunger in her. An appet.i.te for returning every bit of pleasure she'd received and watching it mark him. Change him the way she was very much afraid the experience had altered her.

Without releasing her mouth, he tugged her panties down her legs. And when she stepped out of them, his hand was already under her b.u.t.t. Lifting her.

Bracing herself with one hand on his shoulder, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked them both to the bed.

He was inside her before her back hit the mattress.

They were both still for a moment. Cait was a little stunned. A bit panicked. He filled her with a completeness that bordered on the uncomfortable. She hadn't been kidding about how long it'd been for her. She shifted slightly, feeling surrounded by the breadth of him. Then stopped as she felt the delicate throb of his p.e.n.i.s inside her. Felt herself soften as a fist of need clutched in her belly.

She opened her eyes. Found him watching her. And her breath strangled in her lungs. There was nothing shuttered about his gaze at the moment. His eyes looked more gold than brown in the shadows. And in that moment, she knew he thought of nothing but her. Saw nothing but her.

Cait arched her hips, a silent invitation, and one that he met with a long slow thrust. His hand crept between their bodies to cup her breast, while the other remained wrapped under her hips. She could read the urgency in the way the skin pulled tightly across his cheekbones. In his clenched jaw. But still he held back, keeping his movements controlled.

Until she smiled into his eyes. Reached down to touch him where their bodies were joined. And felt him shudder against her as his control abruptly snapped.

Zach surged into her again and again, and this time she met him stroke for stroke. Desire was firing through her veins. The hem of her vision was hazing. But she kept her eyes open. Fixed on his. The night rushed in, crowding their bodies on the bed. She could see nothing but him. Hear only the rasp of their breathing. The slap of flesh against flesh. The beat of her blood, roaring through her veins. Hammering in her ears.

Her heels dug into his back. She was wrapped around him. And still it wasn't close enough. His hips pounded against hers in a primal frantic pace until he surged wildly, and she felt the last little bit of sanity slip away as the climax tossed her up. Spun her dizzily.

And when he followed her into madness, when senses were dimmed and there was only feeling, she imagined she heard her name on his lips.

So Sharper was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the consultant. Interesting.

He stared at the closed motel door, mind racing. He'd been watching Fleming's motel room when he had the chance ever since he'd learned where she was staying. Not that there'd been anything of interest to discover. She went in. She came out. Always alone.

Until now. Now she was in there with Sharper.

He sat in his darkened vehicle in the shadows of the motel lot. Wondered what the information meant. Other than the fact that Sharper was a h.o.r.n.y b.a.s.t.a.r.d who somehow managed to nail every decent-looking woman around these parts. He'd always been a lucky SOB. Because Caitlin Fleming was as close to perfect as any female he'd seen off the screen.

The thought was purely objective. The only interest he had in the woman was figuring out what she knew. And keeping her from learning more.

Because there was nothing more to see, he started his car. There had to be a way to use this dirty little detail. Knowledge was power. And he was an expert in acquiring knowledge. A few scenarios occurred but didn't hold up under closer consideration.

He put the car into gear and headed for the street, being careful to stay in the shadows. Something would come to him. It always did.

One thing was clear.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that he'd have to get rid of Caitlin Fleming.