Pushing on the floor of the cab with her heels, she opened her mouth to him all the way, let him cover her with his lips, his hands, his leg as the wave of passion pulled her under.
She told herself it was the suit.
Any man filling a shirt and pants the way he was right now would draw this reaction from her. It didn’t have anything to do with Knight himself.
And she made her Christmas cards with rubber stamps and ribbons a la Martha Stewart.
Puh-lease.
For some unknown reason, this guy did it to her. And instead of trying to figure out why, she decided to just enjoy it.
She broke the kiss, needing oxygen that hadn’t been in his lungs first.
“I’m taking you,” he repeated.
Shivering from excitement, Reese scooped up her purse as they pulled in front of the Crowne Plaza and gave him a cocky grin. “If I don’t take you first.”
She didn’t wait for Knight, but got out of the car and stepped onto the sidewalk. The September night was cool and balmy and the breeze from the north brought a faint fishy smell of the lake, making her wrinkle her noise. Give her exhaust fumes any day over that briny odor. At least in New York all the bad smells were man-made.
Knight joined her at the door as she went into the hushed lobby of the hotel, the only sound the low voices of the desk clerks speaking to guests, and the constant ding of the elevators.
Reese had always felt the urge to swat men off her like irritating insects when they latched onto her arm or elbow or the small of her back. But when Knight did it, she didn’t mind. It was a promise of pleasure, a reminder that he had large masculine hands that were soon going to be all over her body, stroking her mindless.
As his fingers pressed into her dress, right above her thong panty line, he told her, “You’re forgetting I’m an agent. I have a lot of experience with take-downs.”
She had a button on her body that readGet me off,and Knight seemed to know exactly where it was. And he wasted no time in pushing it frequently.
“How is that relevant here?” Reese stepped onto the elevator and hit the five.
They were the only people on the elevator, a fact she was very aware of when the doors closed, leaving them in a small enclosed space where no one could see anything they might happen to do.
Knight took a step towards her, stalking. “That’s why I get to do the taking first. Because I can.”
The sensual game of words left her breathless, clinging to the wall of the elevator with her hand, thighs rubbing together in agony.
“I’m not a perpetrator, though.”
“Yes, you are. You’re so damn sexy it should be illegal.”
He was in front of her, surrounding her, shirt rustling across her bare chest above her cleavage. His scent filled her nostrils, a rich, deep exotic smell of aftershave, musky soap, and expensive clothes. It was different from the way she remembered him the day before, earthy and casual. Gritty at the end of a long day.
“You can’t arrest me for being sexy.” Reese dipped her nose into the hollow of his neck and sniffed again, running her lips along the collar of his burgundy shirt.
“Yes, I can.”
The elevator shuddered to a stop, the doors opened, and Knight stepped away from her.
Reese slipped past him and said, “You can’t if you can’t catch me.”
Then with a laugh, she sprinted down the hall towards room 517, the heels slowing her down a little, her purse falling offher shoulder. When she heard him give chase, she kicked it into third gear, delighted that he was going to play with her.
TWENTY-THREE
Derek couldn’t believehe was in hot pursuit of his date, instead of a suspect. Reese sure in the hell made him work for it.
But he wasn’t ticked off. He wasn’t even mildly annoyed. The thing was, he liked Reese’s sharp tongue and her little betting games. He liked chasing, and her running, because he knew in the end they both wanted her to be caught.
It made him feel alive. Young. Excited to be in the game, the rush of something new and different and not-standard-procedure.