by Julie James
“I’m sure he’ll come around. He’s a former cop; he knows what kind of opportunity this is for you.” Jessica glanced his way. “And I’m sorry to hear about your mom.”
“Thank you.” He smiled, realizing something. “She would’ve loved seeing me with you.” As soon as the words came out, he rephrased that. “I mean, seeing you as my partner.”
“What makes you say that?” The breeze had tangled a lock of Jessica’s hair in the delicate gold necklace she wore, and she worked on the knot with her fingers as they walked.
“She was a big feminist. That’s how she met my dad, in fact.” John should know; he and his brother had heard the story only about a hundred times. “May tenth, 1980. She rallied in Grant Park with eighty thousand other activists in support of the Equal Rights Amendment. Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem spoke, and they all marched down Columbus Drive wearing white sashes in honor of the 1920s suffragists.”
“And your dad marched, too?” Jessica looked impressed. “How progressive of him.”
“Actually, he was one of the cops assigned to cover the protest. He was lined up on Columbus, doing crowd control, and—so the story goes—as the protesters marched by, he saw this woman trip and fall down. Worried that she might get trampled, he shoved his way through the crowd and helped her up. Turns out, the woman—my mom—had sprained her ankle pretty badly, but she was stubborn and insisted that she wanted to keep going. My dad watched her hobble along the street for about a hundred feet before she gave in and sat down on the curb. He’d probably never given the Equal Rights Amendment a second thought before that day, but something about the disappointment on my mom’s face got to him. So he walked over, picked her up, and carried her the rest of the way so she could finish the march.”
Jessica put a hand to her chest. “Oh my God, that might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
He winked. “We Shepherd men have moves.”
“You’re a modest people, too, I hear.”
He laughed. So saucy. “The point is, my mom would’ve loved your story.”
Jessica gave him a bemused look as she tried to work her hair from the necklace. “I wasn’t aware I had a ‘story.’”
“Please. The whole one-of-only-two-women-in-our-class thing? Dominating in academics and all that extra training you put in on the shooting range and with the PT? You had a story. Hell, I could practically hear ‘Maniac’ playing in the background every time you stepped into the gym.”
She went tellingly silent.
“It was your theme song at the Academy, wasn’t it?” he asked.
She laughed like this was the funniest thing. “My theme song . . . right.” She shot him a look, saw his grin, and threw up her hands. “Okay, how could you possibly know that?”
“Mind powers.” He laughed when she poked him in the shoulder. “Fine. I could hear the song playing on your iPod every morning before PT.”
She hmphed at that, looking a little piqued. “You must’ve been hovering awfully close.”
He shrugged, his tone sly. “I probably was.” They walked in silence for a moment, the peaceful rhythm of the ocean waves the only sound between them.
He couldn’t resist.
“‘She’s a maniac, maniac on the floor,’” he sang under his breath.
She shook her head, seeming to fight back a smile. “That’s fine, laugh it up.” Finally, she stopped struggling with her necklace and let her hands fall to her side. “All right, I give up. I’m stuck.”
“Come here.” He moved closer and they both stopped on the walkway. Bending his head, he took a closer look at the necklace. “Your hair is knotted around the clasp.”
“Just yank it out. The rest of my hair will cover the bald spot.” Despite her attempt at levity, her voice sounded throatier than usual.
“There’s a joke somewhere in there about never harming so much as a hair on your head.” And it wasn’t a joke, actually—this particular agent had always brought out the protective side of him. Even if she’d never needed it.
Patiently, he began unwinding the tiny lock of her hair that was caught around the necklace. It took a few moments, and then he freed the last strands from the clasp. “There.” That accomplished, he smoothed her hair back around her shoulders.
Standing just inches away, she peered up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes. “Thank you.”
He moved even closer. “You know, normally, with this whole romantic backdrop—the moonlight, the beach—I’d probably kiss you right about now.”
“Would you, now?” She raised an eyebrow.
But she didn’t move back.
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Well, with you being single, and me being single, and with all the laughing and joking around tonight, it just feels . . . expected.”
“Expected?” Her lips curved, as she considered this. “What’s stopping you, then?”
“I promised I wouldn’t make a move on you. Actually, it wasn’t a promise, per se. More like I agreed not to disagree with you.”
“So you’re saying the ball’s in my court.”
He bent his head, stopping just before his mouth touched hers. “The ball has always been in your court, Jessica,” he said huskily. “From the first moment I walked up to you at the Academy.”
She looked at him for a moment. Then she stood up on her tiptoes and leaned into him.
The instant her lips touched his, John slid one hand to her waist and threaded the other in her hair.
About damn time.
20
This time, Jessica and her inner pragmatic were in complete agreement.
If John kept kissing her this way, she could not be blamed for any indecent acts she committed right here, on the beach.
First, he tangled his hand in her hair, holding her close as he teasingly explored her mouth. Then he took it up a notch and deepened the kiss, leaving her weak in the knees as his tongue wound hotly around hers.
Yes. This. For too long, they’d been dancing around each other, but that ended tonight.
Hooking a finger into the waistband of his jeans, she tugged him closer, as close as she could get him, and felt the thick ridge of his erection pressing against her stomach.
That . . . was not where she needed it, exactly.
“You’re too big,” she murmured. She felt him smile against her mouth. “I mean too tall.” Although, judging from the situation in his jeans, she’d been spot on with the “big guy” nickname.
His hands moved to the backs of her thighs and lifted her up so she could straddle his waist. “Better?”
“Much better.” Eye-to-eye with him for a change, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. Their mouths melded together as his hands curved around her bottom, holding her up as their lips and tongues tangled heatedly.
He pulled back to gaze at her for a moment, both of them slightly out of breath. Without discussion, he began walking up the path toward the nearest building.
She smiled. “You can’t carry me to your room like this. If someone walks by, they’ll know what we’re up to.”
He pointed with his chin. “Then we’re lucky my room is right there.”
She glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to him in indignation. “You got another oceanfront room?”
He grinned, tipping her toward him. “You can rail at me for that later.” His mouth covered hers, his kiss commanding all her attention until they reached the outer door of his building. He set her down and reached into his back pocket for his room key card. Making quick work of the lock, he opened the door, grabbed her hand, and tugged her into the hallway—
Just as a man in his sixties, dressed in athletic pants and a T-shirt, stepped out of a room farther down the hall.
Jessica and John walked chastely in silence as the man headed their way. In tandem, they
gave him a nod while passing by.
“Nice night for a walk,” he said.
“Quite,” Jessica said, with a casual smile.
“Sure is,” John agreed.
They waited until they heard the outer door shut behind them, then reached for each other again.
Moving so fast her head nearly spun, John pinned her against his hotel room door. Bracing his hands on either side of her, he leaned down and kissed her, long and deep.
“John,” she breathed. They needed to get inside the room. Now.
“It drives me crazy when you say my name like that.” He peered down into her eyes. “Why now? You said you didn’t want to complicate things between us.”
Yes, she did. “Well . . . you’re leaving now.” She paused, trying to remember if he’d ever actually said that he’d accepted the spot on the team. “You are leaving, aren’t you?”
He looked at her for a moment and then nodded. “Yes.”
Pride and admiration, along with her genuine happiness for what he’d accomplished, mixed with a more bittersweet emotion.
Latching onto the pride, she reached up and touched his cheek. Good for him. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance—he should go. “Then that keeps things pretty simple between us, doesn’t it?” Her words were gentle, but matter-of-fact.
Something flickered in his eyes. “Yes. It does.” He lowered his head and kissed her. The heat of the moment took over, the two of them intertwined against the door as their hands began to move impatiently, almost desperately.
Reaching around her, he slid his key card into the lock and opened the door. They tumbled into the room, and she reached for the hem of his T-shirt before the door had even shut behind them. Stepping back to help, he yanked the shirt over his head.
Sweet Jesus.
She blinked, not sure where to look first. Chest sculpted like an armor plate; broad shoulders; strong, corded arms; rippling abs with a trail of dark blond hair that dipped invitingly into the waistband of his jeans.
“What time is our flight tomorrow?” she asked.
“Nine o’clock.”
“Good.” She gestured to his body. “I’m going to need some time with all this.”
He smiled wickedly, his eyes a deep, smoky blue as he closed the gap between them. Sliding his hands up her back, he found the zipper of her dress.
She exhaled unsteadily as he pulled down the zipper, exposing her back to the cool air of the hotel room. Holding her gaze, he inched one dress strap off her shoulder, then the other.
The dress fell to the floor and pooled at her feet.
His gaze traveled up, taking in her heels, her cream silk thong, and her strapless bra. “Even better than I’d imagined,” he murmured. Wasting no time, he unhooked her bra, which slipped to the floor next to her dress.
“What else have you imagined?” she asked.
His lips curved. Moving quickly, he pinned her against the wall, capturing both of her hands in his.
She smiled coyly as their eyes met. Now they were getting somewhere.
His mouth swept down on hers, his kiss demanding and possessive. He released her hands and lifted her up, so that she straddled him again. His lips found her breasts, and she dug her fingers into the back of his hair as he teased one of her nipples with his tongue. Moaning softly, she arched against the rock-hard cock that pressed between her legs.
He growled low in his throat. “I don’t think I can do this the nice way, Jessica.”
“Good. I don’t want it the nice way,” she breathed.
That decided, he carried her into the bathroom. Holding her up with only one arm, he continued kissing her while rummaging around in his Dopp kit for what she hoped was a condom. Once he found it, they made it only as far as the hallway, where he set her down against the wall.
Their hands began moving frantically. He yanked down her underwear as she undid the button on his jeans, pausing only to grip his forearms for balance as she stepped out of her thong, one leg at a time. Then she unzipped his fly and shoved his jeans and boxer briefs past his hips.
Both of them breathing heavily, he handed her the condom and kicked off his jeans and underwear, making equally quick work of his socks and shoes. She got a split second to marvel at the sight of him fully naked as she ripped open the condom, and then he was on her again, big and hard as she rolled the condom on.
Ready and so willing for what was about to come next, she straddled him when he lifted her up. She felt him between her legs, and then he gripped her bottom and pressed her against the wall for leverage.
She closed her eyes and moaned as he eased into her, filling her completely.
God, that was good.
Opening her eyes, she saw John’s hot, fierce expression. Holding her gaze, he began to move in smooth, deliberate strokes. Their ragged breathing cut through the stillness of the room, until the intimacy of the moment became too much and she closed her eyes, throwing her head back and surrendering as he thrust faster, fucking her hard against the wall and giving her everything she needed as she climbed to the edge of her orgasm and then plummeted over, with wave after wave of intense pleasure flooding through her.
He spread her legs wider, completely dominating her now in deep, claiming strokes that pinned her to the wall. He groaned, and every muscle in his beautiful, powerful body seemed to draw tight as he swelled inside her, his breath ragged and strained until he shuddered, almost violently, and slowly, finally, came to a stop.
Her eyes met his as she tried to catch her breath.
Wow.
His voice was husky, still slightly shaky. “Did I hurt you?”
She felt her chest tighten. “Far from it.”
His gaze softened, and then he bent his head and kissed her, pulling her off the wall to carry her to the bed. Carefully depositing her there, he gripped the base of the condom and pulled out.
Jessica checked out his ass appreciatively as he walked into the bathroom.
A few moments later, he came back out, his eyes roving over her as he walked to the bed. Sliding one hand down her leg, he gripped the back of her ankle and lifted it up. He undid the buckle of her strappy sandal and let the shoe fall to the floor, then did the same thing with the other shoe.
He climbed onto the bed, his arms planted on each side of her, trapping her in. Bending his head, he gave her a devilish smile.
“Now I’m ready to do this the nice way.”
• • •
Afterward, they lay side-by side on the bed as he traced lazy lines along her arm.
“When do you leave?” she asked.
His fingers paused. “Labor Day weekend.”
So soon. Only two and a half weeks away. She nodded, going for a joke. “Good. That’s about when I was planning on getting sick of you, anyway.”
“Pfft. I’m already counting down the minutes until I can make my escape from this room.”
“It’s your room.”
“Shit. Foiled.”
She smiled, then turned her head to look at him. Gently, he brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.
Suddenly wanting to be even closer to him, she shifted on the bed, resting on her forearms and leaning forward to kiss him. He palmed the nape of her neck, curling his fingers into her hair as he claimed her mouth. His other hand skimmed down her back, a light, seductive touch that sent a thrill up her spine.
She’d already had the man twice tonight, but she still felt like she couldn’t get enough of him.
Seemingly of a similar mind-set, he gripped her by the hips and lifted her on top of him. She slid her knees forward, straddling him, and whimpered with pleasure when his erection pressed between her legs.
“Are you sore?” he asked huskily.
It should’ve been weird, hearing John Shepherd ask her that. But instead it felt intimate and erot
ic, and, actually, it turned her on even more. “I’ll manage,” she said throatily.
He rolled her onto her back, giving her a steamy kiss before climbing off the bed. Then he held out his hand. “Come with me.”
She put her hand in his, and he led her into the dark bathroom. He flicked on the makeup mirror light so a soft, ambient glow filled the room, then headed over to the shower and turned on the water.
She said a silent prayer that her waterproof mascara would live up to its promise.
As steam filled the room, she followed him into the shower and shut the glass door behind them. She ducked under the spray, closing her eyes as she brushed back her hair and felt her muscles loosen under the hot water.
“Hmm.” She was about to make a joke about their situation, that she still wasn’t giving Dave his sexy red leather on the banquettes even if she was sleeping with him, but then she opened her eyes and saw John watching her.
His gaze was as hot as blue fire.
“Looks like we’re going to need another condom,” she teased. Her eyes traveled down to his erection. Criminy. No wonder she was a little sore.
He pressed her back against the marble tile. “I have something else in mind.”
Then he got down on his knees in front of her.
Oh . . . she really liked where he was going with this.
“You might want to hang on to the soap dish,” he warned.
Despite being utterly turned on, she smiled. “Because you’re going to rock my world that much?”
“Yes. But also because of this.” He took one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder, spreading her open to him.
“John,” she moaned, threading her fingers through his thick, wet hair as he licked her.
“I told you what it does, hearing you say my name like that.” Splaying his fingers over her hips, he held her steady as his tongue flicked over her clit.
She leaned her head back against the marble, thinking he had a really good start on that promise to rock her world. “Why weren’t we doing this six years ago?” she breathed.