Now there was a visual. He gave a low moan.
“But you’re stillwaybetter,” she said, her gray-green eyes hooded. “You can talk dirty to me. Are you ready to go, then? I’m tired, and I want to just curl up on my bed and…listento you.”
His hand spasmed, his heart raced like he was running up the side of a mountain, and his mouth dried up like a worm on the sidewalk in July.
“You do that, Beautiful. You just lie back on the bed and watch me getting you off. ”
A little “oh,yes,”slipped past her lips.
He took her elbow to guide her out of the crowded and stuffy room and to a cab before he dragged her into the coatroom and slid into her standing up.
She walked with confidence, with a seductive roll and sway of her hips, a toss of her hair. A shoulder was raised, and she glanced back at him over the creamy flesh, mouth open on a minxy smile.
“I told your ex-wife I’m in this relationship for the great sex. You’d better prove me right.”
Oh, he would. Or die trying.
TWENTY-TWO
Reese wonderedwhy the cab driver was only going sixty-five miles an hour. Surely at this time of the night, with light traffic, he could be doing at least eighty.
“We could go to your place this time if you want,” she said, then regretted it. Knight probably had one of those cop apartments, all black lacquer furniture and empty Pop-Tart boxes. A lumpy bed with no headboard and a bathroom that hadn’t seen the receiving end of Lysol in months.
She wanted an orgasm from Knight, not a toenail fungus from his dirty shower.
“We can’t go to my place.” Knight was sitting back in the cab seat, relaxed, his arm up stretched out behind her head. “My little sister Claire moved in with me yesterday because she had roommate problems.”
Since the idea of living with other women gave Reese hives, she could understand. “How old is Claire?” The ex-wife had asked her if she was one of Claire’s friends, she recalled.
“Twenty-four.”
Reese laughed. “That was a good crack, then, on Dawn’s part. She was calling you old. Geez, that’s funny.”
Knight wasn’t laughing. “Yeah. Hilarious.”
Reese leaned against his arm and dropped her hand onto his thigh. “Oh, don’t pout. If I thought you were too old I wouldn’t be in this cab taking you back to my hotel room.”
“You’re taking me? I thought I was takingyouback to your hotel room.”
The contours of his face were shadowed in the dark cab, but she could still see the strong set of his jaw, the hot desire banked in his eyes.
It swirled in the cool closed air around them, mutual lust and a faint power struggle. They both yearned for control, they both deemed their careers and personal lives unsatisfactory because they were lacking in that control.
They approached each other both wanting the upper hand, and Reese enjoyed that ever-present pull between them. She liked that Knight was a little older, experienced, had spent his life fighting for justice and truth and the American way. She enjoyed his rather brooding moodiness and the fact that he was willing to arm-wrestle her.
“How about we take turns taking each other?” she whispered, allowing her finger to creep northward along his hard thigh.
His hand closed over hers, stopping her seductive trail. “I go first. I’m taking you.”
Oh, baby. First she’d found herself turned on by his holster, now alpha male domination was getting her hot.
But she wasn’t going down without a fight, no matter what her nipples thought about it. “Want to bet?”
“I’ll take that bet.”
Without warning, his mouth covered hers, cutting off any protests she might have made had she not been drowning in horny hormones.
It was a taking kiss. A demanding, selfish, who’s-your-daddy kind of kiss that filled her mouth with burning breath, hot tongue, and urgent need.