Читать книгу Take My Breath Away… - Cara Summers - Страница 12

GABE SURFACED QUICKLY this time and began to orient himself. There was still pain thrumming at the back of his head and near his temple.

The fight.

The details were there, but he pushed them away for now, along with the pain. Both were secondary.

Primary was the flood of sensations storming through his system because of the woman. He was surrounded by them, trapped by them. The pressure of each one of the fingers splayed across his chest might have been a brand. The leg she’d thrown across him imprisoned his thighs and ignited an almost uncontrollable fire in his loins. His whole body was aroused, throbbing.

Who?

Opening his eyes, he shifted slowly until their positions were reversed. Her head lay in the crook of his arm, and it was his leg that held her prisoner now. Even as her eyelashes fluttered and then stilled, recognition streamed through him.

Nicola Guthrie.

What the hell was she doing here? He gave his head a shake, hoping to clear the fog. Pain stabbed. He shut his eyes against it and gritted his teeth as he willed details into place.

He remembered Father Mike’s phone call about the note, the long drive through the storm. He’d arrived at the church, hoping to surprise the thief. Instead, he’d been the one surprised. He recalled the open window that had lured him into the choir room and the blow to his head. But it hadn’t taken him out. He’d managed that on his own. The last thing he could dredge up was his feet flying out from beneath him. That’s when the fireworks had exploded in his brain.

Moving more carefully this time, he glanced around the room. A flashlight and candles provided the only illumination. That and the howling of the wind outside told him that the storm hadn’t let up. He should get up and check on the statue. But he was confident that his new alarm system had held, and his prayers to St. Francis had worked.

This time.

He glanced back down at Nicola. None of what he remembered explained why FBI special agent Nicola Guthrie was here, lying beneath him on the floor of the choir room.

Except.

He frowned as the image slipped into focus—her face filling his vision, her voice telling him everything would be all right. Assuring him that both statues were still here. He thought he’d been dreaming. Just as he’d dreamed of her too often in the past three months.

Because he’d known from the first instant he’d seen her in the FBI office that Nicola Guthrie spelled trouble for him with capital letters. When she’d met his eyes in that brief instant of contact, he’d felt everything else slip away until there’d only been her. The wanting had started that instant, and he hadn’t been able to shake free of it.

So he’d avoided her like the plague for nearly three months. Although he’d consulted on the case, he’d never once set foot in the FBI office. Nick Guthrie was a good friend, one he owed. One he intended to keep. And the flare of hot, primitive desire he’d felt in that one meeting of glances with Nicola was the last thing he wanted to feel for a friend’s daughter. Getting involved with her meant complications, and where women were concerned, he liked to keep his relationships simple. He’d even managed to avoid her during the past few weeks when she’d started tailing him during the evening hours. He had a pretty good idea why. Nick Guthrie might be convinced that he’d had nothing to do with the robberies. But it was a more than good bet that someone at G. W. Securities was up to his or her neck in them. So Guthrie had assigned Nicola to follow him—just to cover all his bases.

Gabe was fine with that. What he wasn’t fine with was that having her on his tail had only increased the number of times she’d slipped into his thoughts each day—especially when he’d been working here at the church on the security for the statue.

He couldn’t keep her out of his mind. That scared him. It ticked him off. It also fascinated him. No one, nothing had ever pulled at him the way she did.

And she was doing it again now. Without even trying. She was asleep, totally unaware of him. Like Sleeping Beauty, blissfully ignorant of the effect she was having on him. He should get up, move. But he couldn’t seem to make his body obey.

Baffled, he studied her in the dim light, taking in the creamy porcelain skin, the sprinkling of freckles. Before he could prevent himself he brushed a strand of hair off of her cheek and behind her ear. At that simple contact of skin against skin, desire shot through him, a rusty claw in his gut.

He’d spent nearly three months being prudent and safe. Perhaps it was time to try a different tack.

One taste. That’s what he told himself as he leaned closer and began to tease her lips apart with his. One taste. He rubbed his mouth softly over hers, then unable to stop himself, he sank in.

Her lips were soft. He’d imagined they would be. And warm. He’d expected that also. But when he finally slipped his tongue between them, he found a surprising mix of flavors. Cool and hot, sweet and pungent. Each flavor drew him, tempted him to taste and taste again.

She began to tremble. That, more than her flavors, undermined his resolve and he plunged in to take the kiss deeper.

IT WAS LIKE WAKING UP in the heart of a firestorm. One minute she’d been fast asleep, and the next, every nerve in her body was alive, burning, yearning. Before she could think, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on.

His mouth was so hot and nearly savage. The press of his body against hers vibrated through her right down to her bones. And the feelings he aroused in her were so vivid. So new. Desire had never been this sharp. Hunger had never gone this deep. Need had never been this demanding.

In some far corner of her brain where rationality hadn’t been burned to cinders, she heard a voice telling her she had to think. The practical Nicola. But how could she pay any heed when her pulse was pounding in her head and his taste, ripe and rich, was pouring through her like a drug?

She wanted more. She had to have more. When he slipped a hand beneath her jacket and slid it up her bare skin to cover her breast, she arched, determined to get even closer to that hard, rangy body. Oh, yes, she had to have more. A sound, something primitive, clawed its way out of her throat.

As if in answer, he used his teeth, scraping them along her bottom lip before he moved his mouth to her neck. With sensations hammering through her system, she heard the practical voice again. This couldn’t be right, shouldn’t be right. But every nerve in her body tingled with the conviction blossoming inside of her that it was. Exactly right.

Stop. The word had become a chant in his head, but Gabe’s body ignored the order. She was all wild flavors and silken textures, and she was driving him crazy. Wherever he touched or tasted, she responded with a huge unreserved pleasure that fascinated him. Captured him.

He’d thought about what it would be like ever since that first meeting of eyes. But any fantasies he’d entertained fell far short of reality. He hadn’t wanted her to stir up this kind of primitive need. But hadn’t he known she would? He slid his hands down to her hips, and when she arched up and tightened her legs around him, the only thing that kept him from taking what he was craving was that he was still wearing his jeans. His fingers were struggling with the snap when he recalled how he’d started this, kissing her when she was still asleep. He’d taken her this far without an invitation. Stealing a kiss without asking was one thing, but he wanted more.

He drew his head up then and brought her face into focus. She was awake now. He could see himself in those chocolate-colored eyes. She held him just as surely there as she did with her arms and legs. A warning bell sounded, but it was distant.

“You stopped,” she said.

Her voice might have been a throaty murmur, but there was a note of accusation in the tone.

“Paused,” he corrected. “And I won’t stop if I kiss you again,” he stated. “I wanted to make sure you were on board with that.”

For a moment she said nothing. But she didn’t move.

Neither did he.

In his mind, he might intend to play the gentleman, but his body hadn’t gotten the memo. He was very much aware that they were pressed closely together, center to center, heat to heat, with nothing more than denim and her panties separating them. His body throbbed at every point a pulse could beat.

He rocked into her, saw the heat flare in her eyes, felt the shudder move through her body. One thread of whatever control he had left snapped.

“It would be a mistake.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“We’re on the same page there.” It would be a huge mistake. Hadn’t he given himself that lecture countless times? But he’d also known that this moment was coming, that as hard as he might try, he wouldn’t be able to prevent it from happening.

He ran his mouth along her jaw, then nipped at her chin. “What do you say?”

Say? She wasn’t at all sure that she could form a word. But even as she desperately reached for one, she wrapped her arms and legs more tightly around him. The heat, the glorious blast of it was so intense, she felt as if she’d been caught in a sudden back draft of flames. There was pleasure pulsing through her in an endless stream until it was all she could feel. He was all she could feel.

And he felt so right. She was very aware of the hardness of the floor beneath her. His body was even harder and so hot that she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. She caught herself before she arched against him again. If she did, she might climax. She could feel it almost within reach.

“I should thinks …”

Had she said the words aloud? She must have because he drew back enough to meet her eyes, and there was a question in his. There was also a glint of something dark and reckless that ignited that familiar tingle deep within her. Her practical side might want to worry about mistakes and consequences, but something much closer to the bone ruled. Some mistakes were worth making.

“I want you so much,” she said.

He kissed her then, and she felt that wonderful heat began to build inside of her again. She knew what happened when you played with fire. But she wanted the flash point. And she wanted it now. She tightened her legs around him and arched again.

He immediately gripped her hips and stilled her movements. Then he lifted his head.

She tried to move and couldn’t. “You said the next time you kissed me you wouldn’t stop.”

“Protection.” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t—”

“We’re good.” She dragged his mouth back to hers and nipped his bottom lip.

“We’re about to get even better,” he promised. “But first, we have to get rid of the clothes.”

“Oh … right.” But she kept her mouth on his the whole time his hands slid between them to push down his jeans. Her clothes weren’t an issue. He pushed the thin lace of her panties aside and slid a finger into her. “Now, come for me.”

He gave her no choice. The climax that had been threatening erupted through her in wave after wave, each one sharper than the last. Helpless, she gave herself over to it and to the man who was giving it to her.

Her body was still quaking from the last ripple when he drew his finger out and pressed the head of his penis against the slick heat of her core. He wanted to go slowly, but her response, her surrender, were so much more than he’d imagined. How much further could she take him? Raising his head, he said, “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, and he watched them go wide and blurry as he thrust into her in one stroke. She was hotter and tighter than he’d expected. The feel of her muscles trembling and tugging urged him to go deeper. Hooking his arms around her legs, he lifted them so that he could push even more fully into her.

Her eyes went dark, then blind with pleasure. And for a moment he was sure his own did the same. He couldn’t think of anything but the mating of their bodies. He couldn’t even move. All he could do was sink farther and farther into her. The thought of withdrawing even a little, even to push into her again—he couldn’t do it. This was where he wanted to stay. Where he belonged.

But as she continued to contract around him, the pulse of his own release tore through him. He tried to hold back, to hold her, to hold them both where they were right now. But as another climax radiated through her in little convulsions, his own pleasure overcame him, consuming him and finally overpowering him completely.