Chapter Three
Fifteen minutes later, Royce had paid the doorman a hefty tip to park his truck without hassle. Now on the fifth floor of the twenty-story Upper West Side residential building Lauren lived in, he waited while she fished a key out of the small beaded purse she’d gotten from the coat clerk back at the hotel. She produced a silver keychain which she proceeded to drop to the ground.
Royce scooped it up. “Let me,” he offered, and when she nodded, crossing her arms in front of her, he couldn’t help but notice how adorably nervous and vulnerable she appeared. He was being allowed to see what he doubted many had before him. This was a glimpse of what lay beneath the confident Assistant DA’s public persona, and it was so much more than what he gambled on. Lauren wasn’t a spoiled senator’s daughter, or even an arrogant public servant with too much power, as he imagined she might be. She was so much deeper, so much more than her beauty, and she didn’t even seem to recognize it.
He slipped the key into the lock and shoved open the door, flipping on a light and illuminating a marbled floor. He stepped back into the hallway to let Lauren enter, then followed her inside, shutting the door and locking it behind them. He took a step forward, noting the kitchen to his left, at the same time that Lauren said, “Royce,” and whirled around and right into him.
He closed his arms around her, righting her footing. “Easy, sweetheart. Big guys like me take up a lot of space.” He swiped a strand of hair from her eyes, fighting the rush of desire. “What were you going to say?”
“Kiss me,” she said, and pressed to her toes and melted her mouth against his.
His will to resist this woman, to make sure she was inside her apartment safely, and then leave, faded with the touch of their lips, damn near crumbling into ash when he felt her tongue press past his teeth. A low growl escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding around her back to mold her closer. There was innocence in the kiss, sexuality undiscovered, a trait so rare, so raw, so intimately just for him, that he knew nothing but need possessive, hot need.
Before Royce knew what he was doing, he had her pinned against the wall, his legs trapping hers, his body molding her close. He deepened the kiss, drinking her in, craving more of her, wanting more of her. And when she whimpered, there was no right or wrong. There was only the moment, the woman, the… cold gust of air coming from his right. He stilled, his ears registering the too evident sound of car horns coming from the street level.
Royce tore his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged, hers as well. “Is your window open, Lauren?”
Another loud horn sounded and she stiffened, her eyes going wide. “I never leave my window open.” Her brows dipped. “Is it broken?”
He pulled her into the kitchen. “Stay right here to be safe and let me check it out.”
She nodded. “Yes. Okay.” He started to turn and she grabbed his arm. “Be careful. I have a fire escape. It would be easy to crawl into my window.” She let him go and reached for her purse. “I’ll have my phone in hand in case there’s trouble.”
Royce was already rounding the corner by the time she finished the statement, making sure he was out of her sight when he pulled the gun from under his pant leg. He eased into the darkness of what appeared to be a living room, with a fireplace in the center of the wall directly in front of him which was framed by windows, one of which was open, a curtain fluttering wildly around it. No obvious sign of forced entry, but that didn’t mean anything.
He flipped on a light, taking in the huge, overstuffed blue couch and matching chairs with plush cushions that would be far too easy to turn into a bed. The image of slipping Lauren’s naked body beneath his on that very couch sent a wave of pure heat through his loins, his cock thickening uncomfortably against his zipper. Royce scrubbed his face and loosened his tie. Holy hell, he was in big trouble when he was holding a gun, and thinking of turning a living room into a bedroom, instead of who he might need to shoot with that gun.
With the dining room to his left, Royce could see Lauren staring at him over the bar from the kitchen.
She’d seen his gun so he stopped trying to hide it. He motioned to the only other room, which had to be her bedroom, warning her he was headed to her private space.
He entered the room and flipped on the lights, illuminating the elegant antique furnishings that included a large, too suggestive, sleigh bed. The now familiar scent of vanilla and honey flared in his nostrils, taunting him.
Quickly, he surveyed for an intruder, checking the closet, bathroom, and yes, under that damnable taunting bed. When he returned to the living area, he called out, “All clear,” and went to the window, using the curtain to shove it closed, intending to get finger prints later, if he decided the situation merited it.
She appeared at the end of the hallway, her lipstick smudged, her gorgeous green eyes wide with worry. Her gaze lowered to his weapon, then shifted to the curtain he’d pulled shut, dismissing his gun as if it were expected but then, she worked around law enforcement, so maybe it was to her. “Was my window open?”
“It was,” he confirmed and shoved his gun back into the holster at his calf. “But nothing’s out of order that I can see. Why don’t you take a look and be certain?”
She was already scanning and heading to the other room her bedroom where he wanted to follow her, but would not. He stayed by the window and waited until she returned, her shoes gone, and somehow that little detail made his cock twitch. It was as erotic as if she had taken off much more. This woman got to him; she got to him in a bad way.
“Did maintenance have a reason to be in here?” he asked, stopping near the doorway to the bedroom in case she needed him, or so he told himself.
“No,” she said returning to the living area, stopping just in front of him. “Well, sometimes they do fire alarm inspections. Maybe it was something like that. But they shouldn’t have left it open. I’m calling them tomorrow to tell them so, too.”
He smiled. She was such a contradiction. All sweet and shy, but also feisty as hell.
She cleared her throat. “Um well. So. I guess we are… safe.” She hesitated. “Can I get you something? A drink? Something to eat?”
You. I want you. “I should go,” he said. “Before we both do something you’ll regret tomorrow.”
She stared at him a moment, then crossed her arms in front of herself protectively, as he’d seen her do before, withdrawing into herself. “I understand,” she said. “Thank you for… everything. And I’m sorry for your truck. And the fact that your picture will probably be in tomorrow’s paper.”
He knew right then that she thought he didn’t want her. If he let her believe that, she’d never let him inside these walls, or hers, ever again. And for reasons he didn’t try to understand, that had nothing to do with why he’d sought her out tonight, he couldn’t live with that.
“I want you, Lauren,” he said, not allowing himself to think about what he was doing, about how she might read his actions when he confessed all to her. There were only the consequences of doing nothing, and those, he simply couldn’t live with. He stepped forward, closed the distance between them. He slid a hand to her cheek. “You have to know that by now.” He bent his head, brushed his lips with hers, a soft caress meant to seal his message, meant to be brief. Her arms uncurled, her hands settling on his chest, the touch searing him with the promise of more. She swayed toward him, her body seeming to melt into his. Suddenly, the brush of his mouth over hers turned to something more passionate, something he’d vowed to leash.
He started to pull back, he meant to pull back, but she moaned, soft and sexy, and he had to have another taste of her just one last taste and then he’d leave. He’d leave but she’d know he wanted her.
Somehow, he ended that one last kiss several kisses later, and before she could protest, he bent down and scooped her into his arms. This woman wasn’t just any woman. She was his duty and… more. She was more. He didn’t know why. He didn’t need to know why. He simply needed to do what was right. And though stripping her naked and burying himself deep inside her might sound pretty darn right it wasn’t, not now, not tonight. But later. Oh yeah, later, he was going to do that and so much more.
He crossed the room and sat down on the couch the same one he’d imagined her naked and beneath him on settling her back against the arm and backside across his lap. Over the thick ridge of his cock he had no hope of hiding.
“We need to talk,” he said, brushing ringlets of long auburn brown hair out of her eyes.
She blinked and shifted just enough to press her soft, round bottom a bit more directly against his erection. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Don’t make me think. Don’t make me analyze or worry. For once, I just want to escape it all.”
He knew that feeling, knew it all too well. And he also knew it was dangerous; it drove exactly what he didn’t want regret. “Why tonight, Lauren? Why me?”
“I don’t want a politician, or someone my father would approve of, or someone who”
“I get it,” he said, cutting her off, stopping the rest of an answer that had come too fast, too easily, when he was tormented by this woman, by what he was feeling, by why her ‘be careful’ had tightened his chest.
“I’m your rebellion sex, the guy who isn’t good enough for you except when you want to get back at your father? Is that the deal here, Lauren?”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh, God, no. That’s not what I was saying.” She brushed her lips over his. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love that you’re everything I never allow myself to experience. You’re… ”
“What?” he asked, feeling a gnawing in his gut. “I’m what?”
“Everything I want to be and I’m afraid I might never be,” she whispered softly, her lashes lowering with the confession. Her emotion, and more of that delicate vulnerability she’d shown him earlier, washed over him, softening him. It hit Royce then just how much trust she’d given him by showing him this side of herself, by declaring her reasons for doing so. Trust he didn’t deserve, trust he was certain she would regret. Resolve formed inside him. He was destined to fail her, but that failure wasn’t going to be now. He wasn’t going to leave her believing she wasn’t gorgeous and desirable.
He scooted her off his lap and settled down on the floor in front of her, his hands sliding up Lauren’s calves, to her knees that she’d primly pressed together. The heady scent of her perfume, her home, her very feminine presence, seeped into his senses.
She stared down at him, a soft ‘doe in headlights’ look on her face. “Royce?” His name was a soft plea on her lips, filled with uncertainty. He’d confused her, sent her mixed messages, in his effort to do what was right.
He felt like a wolf, a hungry wolf who wanted to devour this woman, and there was no way that didn’t show in his eyes, no way the energy, the need he felt for her, didn’t radiate off of him.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, softly, calmly, when the rage of hormones inside him was anything but. He kissed her knees, one and then the other, reaffirming his decision to let her pleasure be his tonight. “And I’m going to show you how much I mean that.”
She swallowed hard, her delicate, kissable throat bobbing with the action. “I’m not sure I know what that means.”
He brushed her dress up her thighs. “You will,” he promised and kissed her delicate little knee again.
She laughed a nervously feminine sound. “I’m not sure I know what that means either.”
“You don’t need to know what it means,” he said, his fingers tracing the lace of her thigh high pantyhose, the sexy lingerie choice confirming what he’d always suspected. Lauren might be prim and proper on the outside, but there was a sensual woman beneath the exterior who wanted to come out and play and he wanted to be the man who she played with. He wanted to be that man tonight, but no matter how tempting that might be, tonight wasn’t the night. But he’d be damned if he’d allow her to doubt his desire for her, his absolute, complete attraction to her. “You just need to know how it feels.” His hands slipped inside her thighs, easing her legs apart, his lips trailing a path up one of them.
She moaned softly as his tongue traced the top of the lace hose and she slipped further back against the sofa. “Royce, I” His fingers slid over the damp black silk of her panties. She moaned again. “Oh.”
He slipped his finger beneath the fabric, the sweet sound of her pleasure spurring a hunger in him for more. He caressed the sensitive, swollen flesh, and explored the slick proof of her arousal. She moaned again and dug her fingers into the cushion, trying to sit up.
“Royce”
He moved to frame her body with his, his elbows hitting the cushion, his mouth above hers. “I’m going to take you to bed Lauren, but not for the reasons I want to. I’m going to take you to bed and put you to sleep.”
“What?” she gasped against his lips. “No. I don’t want… I”
He smothered her protest with his mouth, kissing her, deeply, passionately, then promising, “I’m going to put you to bed right after I make you come,” he assured, scooting down her body, his palms caressing her breasts, making her pant. He settled in front of her now closed knees, his fingers finding the lace of her panties under her dress. “You do want to come, don’t you?”
“Has any woman ever told you ‘no’ when you asked them that question?”
He kissed her stomach. “You’re the only woman I’m worried about.” He used his hands to urge her backside to lift, pleased when she complied. Royce rolled the material down her hips, over her long, sexy legs, tossing the panties aside. He skimmed her calves, returned to her knees, which he was finding held real appeal for him. “You’re beautiful,” he said, heat roaring through his veins as he urged her knees apart. “Open for me again, Lauren.”
Her lashes lowered and lifted. “I’m ...” she let out a breath, “I’m nervous.”
Nervous. His chest tightened with the honesty of her admission, at her continued trust in him; he wanted to be worthy of deserving it. Even more so, at the underlining inference that someone had given her a reason to feel embarrassed. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all. Protectiveness flared inside him and he moved to her, sliding his hand to her face and kissing her. “You have no reason to be nervous with me. Not now, not ever.”
“Says you,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Says me and I hope says you too very soon.” He nibbled her lip and then, before she could feel anything but pleased, eased one of her legs over his shoulder and settled into the intimate V of her body.
Royce felt her stiffen, heard her gasp, as he ran his tongue over her swollen nub and then drew it between his lips, suckling her gently. His fingers stroked her slick, wet folds, teasing and pleasing, until he slipped one, then the other inside her until she was squirming against him, rocking with the movement of his hand and his mouth. Until she cried out and he felt the muscles of her body clench around him, felt his cock throb with the burn to be inside her. Until he licked and soothed her to a soft sigh and her muscles relaxed.
When she finally stilled completely, he kissed her stomach, only to find her covering her face with her hand. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He eased her back to look at him.
She was embarrassed. Nervous and now embarrassed. He hoped he met the guy that had messed with her confidence one day. Oh yeah, he did. “You have no idea how sexy you are, do you?” he asked, nuzzling her neck, his hand stroking up her back.
“Royce,” she whispered, refusing to look at him, and he wasn’t going to force her, wasn’t going to push her. But he knew now, more than ever, that had he given her no reason to believe he wanted her, she would have pushed him away. She would have built a wall he would have never been able to climb.
Royce scooped her up and carried her toward the only bedroom he’d seen when inspecting the house. The room was dark, but Royce ignored the switch, his eyes adjusting quickly. She needed the shelter of the shadows, and he wasn’t going to take that from her. Not now, not this evening.
A fluffy white down comforter sat on top of the mattress and Royce settled them both down on top of it. When she tried to curl into him, to press her body to his, he ran his hand over her hair, kissed her, and then gently turned her back to his front. “Sleep, Lauren,” he murmured.
She tried to turn, looking at him over her shoulder. “But”
He kissed her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She seemed to consider arguing, but slowly turned back into his arms, softening into the crook of his body, the tension sliding away from her. ”You aren’t what I expected, Royce Walker,” she whispered and almost instantly her breathing settled into a slow, steady rhythm, which told him just how influenced by the alcohol she’d really been.
He nuzzled her cheek, drew in the scent of her, and knew he was in big trouble. He didn’t snuggle, he didn’t linger with women, damn sure didn’t get personally involved. Not for years, not since a youthful near marriage that had been so wrong, in so many ways. He’d wanted a career in the FBI. She’d wanted him home, focused on her. The break up had been bad, and truth be told, she’d been right. He’d been more dedicated to the agency than to her. His duty to his country, to the agency, had left no room for a woman, not one he called his own. But he wasn’t in the agency anymore, and at thirty-four years old, he was no longer a young college kid who hadn’t lived and learned. And Lauren affected him like no other woman ever had. And he saw no way around her hating him in the morning.
“You aren’t what I expected either, Lauren Reynolds,” he whispered.