“Rookie officers Canter and Knight worked hard and eventually wound up in the homicide division, but, unlike Knight, Canter took a bit of a backslide. In and out of rehab, and not because of his leg, at least not directly because of it.” Close enough now to touch, she ran light fingers over the top of his jeans. “That was about it for the story, except O’Keefe says that painkillers are just as addictive as street drugs, and Canter’s had a hard time weaning himself off them.”
“There was nerve damage,” Jacob told her. Those mesmerizing eyes locked on hers. “Canter preferred painkillers to pain. Sometimes it affected his ability to function.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Jacob, truly sorry. Gary Canter was nice to me when I was a rookie myself.” She teased him with her hands. “So why did you come home? Dull shift or the aftereffects of curare poisoning?”
“I have some time owing. Mick told me he took you back to your place, but you weren’t there when I stopped by, and I couldn’t see you visiting your brothers at one in the morning.”
She grinned. “I have friends, you know. Maybe I had a sudden urge for a girls’ night.”
“If you had, you’d have gotten it going before one in the morning.”
“Your point.” She looked up at him, directly into those smoky green eyes. “Are you going to kiss me, Detective, or do I have to undress you right here in the…”
He hauled her into his arms so fast, she missed the move-ment-lost her train of thought, obviously, and her breath along with it.
If she’d been worried about any residual effects from the curare, that thought scattered as well. Poison restricted, it inhibited, but Jacob showed no sign of either. The bulge in his jeans proved that, and invited Romana to explore.
He kept his mouth on hers, changed the angle of his lips, but didn’t stop kissing her. She went airborne for a moment when he scooped her up, but she settled herself against him quite easily. He hit the elevator call button with his elbow, and only dragged his mouth from hers when her breath gave a small hitch.
“What?”
“Gun in my ribs.” Capturing his chin, she brought his head back around. “Relax, Jacob. I’m not made of glass. You swept me off my feet, literally. It’s so…”
“Romantic?”
“You made that sound like a bad word.”
“My inflection must be off. I meant to sound horny.”
“Oh, well, you don’t need words to convey that message.” Swinging her legs, she bumped her hip against the front of his jeans. Her tongue slid along the side of his jaw. “I feel so ‘You Tarzan, me Jane’ right now. Push the button for your treehouse elevator again.”
The heat that flared between them amazed her. The fiery ball of it erupted in her head, melting everything inside and snaking down low into her belly.
He held her against him while she ran her hands over his shoulders and chest. His mouth fed on hers. His tongue was hot and wet, and she met it with an eagerness she couldn’t recall feeling before.
She heard the swish of a door, the grind of an engine, the clunk of metal cables. Then another swish and the music of the city washed over her.
She smelled paint and clay and a hint of spice. The night moved from shadow to pearled light around her. Red, to gold, to green.
When he set her down, her boot heels echoed on a bare wood floor. For the sake of her balance, to say nothing of her whirling thoughts, she dragged her mouth free.
“Heart’s going to explode,” she breathed. “Honest to God, I can’t get air when you kiss me. Did you take lessons as a kid?”
His lips moved into a vague smile. “Jungle training. I took a hostel trip to Africa after high school. Got lost, got found, got out.”
Got laid as well, she imagined, but whatever he’d done, wherever he’d done it, it had certainly worked. Her limbs felt weak and wobbly, her skin burned and her mouth tingled as if she’d been shot with electricity. And what had it been-five minutes since he got there?
The light continued to slide from red to gold to green. The play of it danced across his narrow, watchful features.
She wanted him to smile again, just a little, to lighten the load that seemed to weigh so heavily on him. She wanted even more to tear at his T-shirt and expose the hard, smooth flesh beneath it.
With a hand on her arm, he urged her forward. “Are you sure you want this to happen?”
She pressed her lower body against his erection. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come. This isn’t a new thing between us. It’s an old spark that never quite had a chance to ignite.”
He halted his mouth a tantalizing inch from hers. “You don’t know anything about my past.”
Desire shot through her in sharp little bolts. Need cramped between her legs. She felt the insistent throb of him and wanted it inside her. Deep inside. Where all that wonderful heat could explode into liquid fire. Maybe she should rip off his shirt at that.
This time, it was Romana who captured his mouth while her hands worked at the snap of his jeans. “I know what I need to know. I promise, I’m not made of glass or anything so fragile it shatters at the mere suggestion of imperfection. It’s cold outside, it’s hot in here. There’s danger in both places, but this is the danger I choose.”
Finally, she won that smile. Jacob threaded his fingers through her hair, held it off her face as he stared into her eyes and murmured, “I hope you’ve chosen well.”
Romana reveled in the alternating Christmas hues that streamed through the window. It was the only light source in the room and it worked. It enhanced.
She heard carolers far in the distance. Also fitting. Chestnuts roasting, fire burning, Jack Frost outside, Jacob hot and hungry for her inside-it was everything she needed right now. Well, that and to get the stubborn fly of his jeans undone.
With his mouth devouring hers, he stripped away her coat and scarf. Her clingy black top went next, then her jeans, her oldest and snuggest-fitting pair.
“Boots and black lace lingerie. I like it.” While her fingers continued to work the zipper, he swept her back up into his arms and somehow managed to set his mouth on her breast.
“Ah-h-h…” Desire spiked through her, and she marveled that her heart didn’t stop dead in her chest. But when he lifted his head, she simply pulled it back down. “God, don’t stop.”
Her bare legs swung over his arm. She started to wriggle free as he approached the dark shape that had to be his bed.
She wanted him under her, not the other way around. He was still fully clothed-although she’d managed to get rid of his jacket. It was her turn to savor, to pull off his T-shirt and jeans and see that smoothly muscled body of his naked and ready for her.
Anticipation gleamed side by side with the hunger in Jacob’s eyes. “Not a chance, Romana.” He deposited her on the mattress. “I want to look at you.”
She hooked a booted leg around his hip and tugged him with her. “Look all you want, Knight, but I expect the same privilege.”
Amusement won out. Righting himself, he held his arms to the sides. “Go for it, then. I figure I’ve got about ten seconds of self-restraint left.”
Thankfully, the zipper worked this time. She dragged off boots, jeans and black boxers, then caught back a breath.
“Okay…hah…” Shoving at his shoulders, she straddled him on the mattress. “That’s ten. Now kiss me again, and make me crazy.”
It surprised and touched her that he took his time, that he laid her gently on the sheets and began to stroke her as if she were a priceless musical instrument. He ran his hands over the silky flesh of her stomach, then lower until his fingers slipped under the strip of black lace between her legs.
She gripped his arms, dug her fingernails into his skin. She arched her body up into him, arched her head on the pillow.
Her body hummed, even her skin felt alive. And alight. God, it felt as though fireflies were whizzing around inside her, sparking everything they hit.
He bent his head, and through the lace of her bra, drew her nipple into his mouth. She bowed up to meet him,
