A Steamy Bodyguard Romance Anthology: Just One Look Page 9

  “I’m not asking you to give more.” He reached out to skim a hand along her hips that remained too damn far away for his liking. “I’m asking you to relax. To forget about trying to impress me since you’ve already bowled me over. Just let me…touch you.”

  Gently, he drew her closer. Her feet inched forward at first, then he tugged harder until she landed chest to chest and hip to hip again.

  “I wasn’t trying to impress you.” She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat in her words as he cupped her breasts in his palms.

  “Give it up, Donata. You’re crazy about me.” He didn’t know if it was true, but he thought maybe he could make her crazy about him, given half a chance.

  The idea tantalized him. He’d been with plenty of women in the past few years, but none had intrigued him out of bed to the degree that Donata did.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” She kept her arms-folded stance, but she let herself be touched. Stroked. “Maybe I thought I owed you a little bedroom dazzle after the sexual harassment thing which was probably half the reason you left the force. You must have been an incredible cop.”

  He hadn’t been expecting that—the guilt or the compliment.

  “Thank you, but I wasn’t a great cop.” It had taken him a while to admit it to himself, but he could now that he’d found success in another direction.

  “Bull—”

  He fanned his fingers out over her breast and circled the tip, effectively cutting her off.

  “It’s true. Police work necessitates some ability to take direction and I’ve always sucked at that. When rumors of your accusations came to the fore, my captain gave me an ultimatum. Stop being such a loose cannon or turn in my badge.”

  He liked harassing her now just fine though. She was so soft under his hands.

  “I made you lose your job.”

  “Hell no. You didn’t even file a real complaint. If that was all I had against me, it would have been no big deal. But I was the precinct discipline problem because—as you so succinctly pointed out to me recently—I had that vigilante thing going.” He’d hated the label, but there was some truth behind it. “Can you imagine how much a guy like me appreciated being given an ultimatum?”

  A wicked grin curled around her lips.

  “As much as you appreciate a woman playing the dominant role during sex?”

  “I never said I couldn’t handle giving over some sexual control.” He dipped his finger into the waistband of her panties and then twisted the fabric around the digit to provide a little pressure where he wanted to touch her most. “I could barely stop drooling long enough to discuss the matter with you, as a matter of fact. But I think you deserve the whole gamut of offerings on the sexual smorgasbord.”

  She swayed lightly against him, brushing one breast and then the other across his bare chest.

  “So you sacrificed for me?”

  “Hell yes, I did.” He stilled her teasing movements, more than ready to get this party started. “And to repay me for my efforts, I think you’d better quick get in touch with your inner docile vixen because I’m looking forward to taking the reins tonight.”

  * * *

  DOCILE?

  The man didn’t know what he was asking and she had no intention of enlightening him since it would mean opening the cellar door to an assortment of personal demons she kept locked down there.

  Breathing deep, she tried to relax into Sean’s kiss and his amazingly buff bod pressed against hers. Not exactly a tough task since she definitely wanted him and the trick he did with rubbing her panties against her…She’d be putty in his hands in no time. But the particulars of this encounter could get scary.

  Taking comfort from the feel of Sean’s bicep beneath her questing fingers and the heat growing inside her, she reminded herself that she’d been turned on by the photo of herself wrapped in black leather bands from once upon a time, even though that had been the beginning of what she’d later recognized as an unhealthy trend. She’d liked playing captive to her man as much as the next woman, but Sergio’s sexual tastes has gotten prohibitive when that kind of scenario became all he wanted.

  She’d done docile to death, except she hadn’t truly been submissive for most of it. She’d been seething with resentment that he hadn’t let her play a role as a real partner in bed. She’d been a stand-in for his fantasy archetype—a woman who accepted that foreplay was a one-way street and that her pleasure should come from his pleasure.

  Eeeew.

  Worry had her wound tight as a spring even though Sean’s mouth felt so good as he slid his tongue over her breast. She sensed she’d lose the battle of her worries soon, but then Sean arched back suddenly and looked at her.

  Really looked at her. And oh, the man saw too much.

  “Come with me.” He spun on his heel and led her into a screened-off workout room complete with free weights, a TV and a treadmill along with a huge cache of outdoor recreational equipment. A bicycle hung from the rafters while skis, a snowboard and a golf bag rested against the far wall.

  Her whole body tingled as they walked, her nerve endings pissed off at her for delaying Sean’s touch.

  “Um, Sean?” She’d never been much of an athlete, although she’d certainly put in her time with the weights at the police academy to build up her strength.

  “We’re just here for this.” He looped his hand through a lanyard strap that rested on the handles of the treadmill and took down a stopwatch. “For you.”

  He held the watch out to her until she took the strap and studied the digital timepiece.

  “Lovely. You’re going to time our performance?” She’d never envisioned Sean as one of those guys who ran his life by a clock. He struck her as too much of a free spirit for that.

  “Not exactly.” He punched some buttons on the side of the stopwatch while she held the strap. “Well, sort of. Since you seem a little freaked out at the idea of giving over control, I thought maybe you’d appreciate knowing it was only temporary. Give me ten minutes to kiss you when and where I want, and then the show’s over and you can do with me what you will.”

  He dangled the watch in front of her nose as if he could hypnotize her into doing what he wanted. Considering the way ten minutes sounded very manageable if it meant Sean would keep touching her, she figured maybe he knew exactly what he was doing.

  “And I don’t have to wear anything…costumeish?” Flashbacks to nurse outfits and French maid getups made her shudder.

  “Hell no. Wear what you want. Preferably nothing.” He leaned closer to brush his cheek against hers and whisper in her ear. “So what do you think? Are you game to be all mine for a little while?”

  The warmth of his breath on her neck sent a pleasurable shiver tripping over her skin.

  “Count me in.” She liked saying yes to this man, appreciated that he didn’t take her compliance for granted.

  He’d seen her fears and hadn’t overanalyzed them. He just found a way around them. Her heart skipped with warm affection for him as he pressed the button on the stopwatch and released it to dangle from her arm.

  And oooh my.

  All at once, his touch seemed to be everywhere. His hands glided up her back to heat her skin, tunneling under her hair to graze her scalp and position her head to receive his kiss.

  Hot, wet, possessive.

  The angle he chose was dominating without being domineering and she closed her eyes to allow the feel of him, the feel of them together, to penetrate her mind.

  And to her utter amazement, she realized she didn’t feel like fighting this sensation at all. It was as if letting go—giving herself over to Sean—freed her. She didn’t need to think about how to keep the upper hand since she knew she’d get it back in ten minutes. Her only thought was to enjoy this newfound freedom in relinquishing her pleasure to a man who truly wanted to make her feel good.

  She clutched the strap of the stopwatch as he kissed her, touched her, walked her backward toward his bedroom. His thighs
grazed hers, upping her awareness of him and what he wanted to do to her. Her legs burned wherever his thighs had brushed.

  The restless anticipation in her veins assured her she wouldn’t need the watch for the sake of telling time, but there was a certain joy in clutching the proof of Sean’s caring, his sensitivity toward what she wanted.

  Could there be a better indication of a man who cared about pleasuring a woman? His fingers smoothed over her hip to toy with her panty line and she thought she’d implode from the heat. The need.

  But oh man, this guy didn’t delude himself that pleasure originated in how skillfully he twisted his tongue, although—as he laid her back on his pillows and settled himself between her thighs—she acknowledged that skill was always lavishly appreciated. Ultimately, Sean respected that a woman’s pleasure came from sources deeper than that, places inside her that were untouched by any physical caress.

  The realizations swept over her as quickly as heat pooled in her womb. He swept her panties down her thighs, exposing her to the cool air of the room for only a moment before his breath warmed her there. Sean kissed her thighs and stroked her sex. He worked her clit with deft fingers, as he glanced up into her eyes.

  Darkly sweet sensations built. Tensed. Tightened in the core of her as she waited breathlessly for release.

  She couldn’t look away from him. Her appreciation for what he’d given her couldn’t be spoken aloud by someone as blunt as her because his gifts had been sweetly subtle and deeply personal.

  Her eyes burned at the thought, but then he applied his mouth to her clit and she couldn’t possibly think of anything but the intense build of lush pleasure.

  So incredible. So intense.

  Her thighs wrapped about his shoulders, her hips grinding against the unbearable sweetness of the act. She dug her fingernails into her palms to stretch out the feeling, wanting to hold on to this wild and mind-blowing moment. But then he pushed two fingers deep inside her as he kissed her and all was lost.

  Lights exploded behind her eyes. Control flew out of her reach.

  Her legs clamped tightly to him as her whole body arched in response to the pleasure knifing through her. Her cries bounced off the rafters to fill the room, her heart pumping so hard her blood pounded through her veins like an incoming tide.

  Hard. Relentless.

  Not until her cries subsided and her legs unclenched did she realize her stopwatch beeped with unrelenting insistence.

  Apparently her time was up, but by now Donata was no longer sure she wanted it to be.

  CHAPTER 9

  HE COULDN’T CONVINCE HER to spend the night.

  Sean slumped into his seat at the computer long after he’d walked her to her car, wondering what he was doing in a relationship staggering beneath the weight of old baggage. He didn’t need Donata to paint the full-color picture for him to know her one and only past relationship had done major damage. He respected that she’d ended up as wise and noble hearted as she had, but beneath the layers of psychological crap her ex had given her, Sean wondered if she’d ever work through those issues.

  Then again, who said she had to? Wasn’t it enough that she was trying? And truth be told, she’d done one hell of a job letting go of a few inhibitions tonight. He wouldn’t think about this night together without grinning for at least another week. Sex with Donata had been phenomenal—so amazing that he’d probably let go a few inhibitions of his own. No matter that she hadn’t taken him up on his offer to spend the night, the truth was that Sean hadn’t ever extended a sleepover offer to a woman since…How long had it been? He couldn’t even remember.

  He clicked through a few commands on the keyboard, making rounds that had become engrained in his routine since he’d made it his mission to protect exploited kids online. He still hated involving the cops in this case, even if one of the cops in question was a woman he was beginning to care about. And maybe that was another part of his concern with how things were escalating so fast with Donata. He was used to a lot of autonomy in all aspects of his life and he couldn’t envision himself giving over control there either.

  Good relationships were about compromise. He knew that in a peripheral sort of way from hearing one heartache story after the next while sitting on stakeouts. His work as a P.I. only underlined that knowledge since he fielded at least ten phone calls a week from people who were convinced a spouse or significant other was cheating and wanted proof.

  Why did you need proof if you knew it in your gut already? Sean had learned from a client that the proof was a tool in the divorce or breakup. If proof was on your side, you didn’t need to compromise because you won everything.

  The whole conversation had made him nauseous.

  And reminded him that compromise wasn’t really in the vocabulary of a guy who’d been pursuing a case—hell, a whole crime trend—for four years straight.

  Typing in a new URL, he accessed the video feed from the bed-and-breakfast where he and Donata had set up a trap for whoever was interested in blackmailing her. The image was still there—the room empty and just the way they’d left it. With a few more taps on the keyboard he moved out of that image to double-check the link to Donata’s old photo that he’d removed.

  A sign he was in too deep already that he wanted to keep the Internet free of all private images of her? Hell yeah. He’d be thinking about her all night since the woman was becoming an obsession.

  The list of names on the Web site’s photo page still included Donata—something his tech guy hadn’t messed with. But when he double-clicked her name, he was surprised when the pedophile self-help site didn’t load right away. Yesterday the site had come up with lightning speed.

  He checked the address bar and the routing code didn’t look right either, although he hadn’t written it down. This address had a ton of zeros in the code and the page remained blank as if a graphics-heavy image was loading.

  Tension tightened his spine as he waited, knowing this couldn’t be good. If the Web site’s techs had reloaded the photo image, it would have come over already since the page was stored in his computer’s memory. This had to be something different, and—holy shit.

  A live video stream image appeared on his screen. The color feed was excellent quality, complete with a clock loaded into the image to display real time. And right now, at 1:18 a.m. on the Upper East Side, Donata was unzipping her pants.

  * * *

  THANK GOD SHE kept her cell phone on.

  Donata resisted the urge to wear a parka to the precinct to fill out a report. But she did indulge the desire to wrap herself in a chenille throw she kept on the back of her office chair for the days when the door to the street was opened too often. Now, as Mick finished taking her statement, it was all she could do not to bury her head under the blanket and lean on Sean, who sat in a chair beside her.

  Thank God he’d seen the link. Thank God he’d called before she was naked. She’d started a litany of thanksgiving the moment she’d gotten his phone call early that morning and she hadn’t let up the thankful prayers since she found a handful of tiny webcams around her home and not at the bed-and-breakfast where they’d tried to make someone fall into that trap.

  Whoever had done this was easily staying one step ahead of them.

  “And how long were you surfing the Web after Donata left your apartment last night, Sean?” Mick had leaned back from his computer, his haggard, handsome face showing every night he hadn’t slept in the past week as he turned his attention to Sean.

  “I was probably online for about twenty minutes before I found the video streaming images.”

  “But Donata said she’d been home for almost half an hour when you called her.” Mick’s gaze narrowed and she wondered what he was thinking.

  “I picked up the loft a little before I sat down at the computer. I flipped the TV on and off maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Did you call her as soon as you found the feed?”

  “Jesus, Mick.” Donata sat up straight
er, unwilling to let her partner run down the person who’d saved her from exposing herself to the whole world.

  Or, at least, a whole online community full of sexual deviants.

  “It’s okay.” Sean didn’t look pleased, but he glared at Mick with the same angry intensity Mick sent his way. “I’d ask the same thing. And yes, I called her apartment the second my brain processed what I was seeing. The first frame I saw said 1:18 a.m.”

  Donata couldn’t help but remember that hadn’t been long after they’d been naked together and she’d been vividly reminded how rewarding it could be to give up control now and then. She warmed just thinking about the way she’d forgotten the ten-minute time limit thanks to Sean’s incredible means of distracting her.

  “You have to admit, Beringer,” Mick continued, “you spend a hell of a lot of time checking out Web sites that sell sexual images.”

  Sean’s fist hit Donata’s desk, scattering her pleasant remembrances of their time together.

  “If you think I enjoy the sickening shit I have to see day after day in order to track these dirtballs after what happened to my sister—”

  “Yeah. I figured. I know.” Mick nodded. Closed his eyes. Looked like hell. “This case is pissing me off and it’s got so many spirals and tangents I can’t even feel like we’re doing our job if we only take down a couple of these bastards. The more I investigate, the more I realize there’s no end in sight.”

  Donata flipped the corner of the blanket against her chin, knowing things were getting worse at home for Mick instead of better. What would her life be like right now if she and Sergio had tied the knot and had kids? She’d be feuding with her kids’ jailbird father through prison bars.

  She shuddered.

  “There’s going to be an end. At least for the people who are planting the webcams and stealing video feeds. We still don’t have much on the company packaging up the feeds as reality porn.” No unsuspecting girls should end up with their bedroom adventures publicized this way. What if she and Sean had gone to her apartment tonight instead of his? Footage from their most private moments would already be in circulation.