Her third orgasm was the most powerful of the bunch, making the others seem like just warm-ups, the rhythmic pulses contracting through her, her eyes clamping shut so hard she saw stars—and he followed along with her, his erection stabbing in and kicking inside of her over and over again…
And then it was done.
So still.
They both went so still except for their breathing, which remained haggard.
In the aftermath, her body glowed from the exertion, her heart rate slowing gradually, the heat rolling out of her muscles and her skin until she began to feel the cool floor beneath her.
So good. The whole thing was exactly what she needed.
Except … as the silence began to sink into her addled brain, she thought, Now what? She had no clue how this was supposed to work—
“Duke?” a male voice said on the other side of the door. “You in there?”
Oh. Crap. Talk about a reality injection.
Her … lover, she supposed was the word for it, lifted his head and shot a glare upward. He also cranked his leg around and shoved his knee into the steel panel to make sure it wasn’t opened—and in the process, reminded her that they were still very much joined.
Dear Lord, what had she gotten herself into?
“No, I’m not,” he said in a guttural snarl.
Pause. “Duke, my man, you got someone in there with you?”
“No.”
“Because the visual and the audio are off and we’re concerned that you’re—”
“He’s not alone,” Cait said sharply. “Okay?”
Pause. Longer this time. “Oh, Jesus, sorry … I, ah, shit, man, we never thought that you would be with a—I mean, you don’t usually do that with the females, or, I mean, anyone, so, ah—”
“Later, Ivan,” Duke snapped.
“Oh, yeah. Sure … absolutely, my man…”
The volume on the commentary drained out, like whoever it was, was walking off the apology. Or tripping over it, as was the case.
Duke focused on her, his expression utterly unreadable. “What he means is, I don’t bang women at work.”
“Then why’d you ask me here?”
“Because I couldn’t wait any longer and you already had a date for tonight.”
“What if I hadn’t gone to the theater?”
“I’d have been stuck having to stalk that idiot singer until I ran into you again.” This was said as if he’d rather have teeth pulled out of his head by a tractor.
Cait had to laugh. “G.B.’s music really not to your liking?”
For a moment, something cold flared in his face. “No. Not at all. You, however”—he brushed his lips across hers—“would be worth the audio suicide.”
She brushed her hand though his short hair, and studied his face, memorizing it.
“I should go,” she said eventually, even though in her heart of hearts she didn’t want to. She just didn’t know what the other option was—the sex had made him anything but a stranger. Unfortunately, that had only lasted while they were doing the deed.
His lids lowered. “I’m not finished with you.”
Instantly, her heart started to pound again. She should probably try to play it cool, but she wanted more of him. In whatever form the sex took. Life was too damned short not to be transported to heaven at least one more time.
“Good,” she said.
“Tell me your number.”
After she recited the digits, she frowned. “Don’t you want to write it down?”
“You’re not that forgettable—trust me.”
As if to prove the point, he took her mouth again and kissed her thoroughly, even as he reached between them to the base of his erection and held the condom in place while he withdrew.
Chilly air hit her most sensitive skin, and yup, that reminded her that her breasts were everywhere and so were her clothes.
A sudden image of the other set she’d left on her bathroom floor flashed before her eyes.
Maybe this was a trend?
Okaaaay … he was up and dressed so much faster than she was. Then he turned away, as if he knew she wanted a little privacy.
Getting to her feet, Cait pulled her jeans back on and then fumbled with her bra, the straps confounding her, the hitch in the middle of her back refusing to cooperate. The turtleneck was the same, going on messily over her head, her arms getting stuck.
“All right,” she said.
As Duke pivoted back around, he seemed so remote, so tall, so removed.
Had they really just done that?
He opened the door without another word and the air that rushed in smelled kind of like the salon’s had, all kinds of shampoos and hair sprays mixing together. Which was strange. Maybe they had dancers somewhere in the club—
Oh, look, a group of big guys with black shirts that had STAFF printed on them. And they were allllll staring at her from their vantage point of about ten feet away.
Fantastic.
As Duke started to walk forward, she hid behind his shoulder to avoid meeting his colleagues in the eye—and what do you know, that was when reality set in.
Yup, that had actually happened. On the floor. Behind an unlocked door at his place of employment.
Shit. Maybe she couldn’t handle being a blond, after all.
As Duke led the way over to the rear exit, he avoided the wide stares of his coworkers and did his best to block their sight of his lady friend. Not sure how successful he was at the latter. Damn it.
It wasn’t that he was ashamed of what they’d done. She had come here for exactly what they had both wanted, and it had been awesome. But he wasn’t going to have her gawked at.
The door opened outward, so he turned himself to the side, his broad body shielding her. And as she shuffled by him, her arm brushed across his chest, reminding him of all the different kinds of contact they’d just had on the floor of the interrogation room.
Mmmmmm.
Outside, she went over to a Lexus SUV of some sort—and he followed, tracking every move she made: Those hips were swaying, not in the hyper-extended way some women threw it, but in the natural fashion of a woman who’d been properly serviced. And the curve of her ass? He wanted to put his hands all over that—
His cock started to thicken, the sexual urge coming back to him like he hadn’t been laid in weeks. Months. Maybe years.
She’d been … really fucking hot. Nervous, uncomfortable in the beginning … and then nothing but high- octane, full-bore with it during the sex, her nails ripping into his shoulders as she opened herself wide on the floor, uncaring about anything except the two of them coming together.
Not what he’d expected, to be honest.
This whole thing had started as a way to stake a claim against a man he hated. But the actual experience had shifted his goals. Now, this wasn’t about a vendetta rooted in the past anymore—in fact, he’d meant exactly what he’d said to her. They weren’t finished, and no, he most certainly did not need to write her number down. It was in his brain like those orgasms he’d given her were: indelibly.
As she hit her key fob and disengaged the Lexus’s alarm, he jumped ahead, opening her door. And just as with the start, she didn’t seem to know how to end things.
He did.
