Chapter 6

Gabe ran like the devil was after him, or maybe an angel. Named Macy. Simon had left this morning with his school for camp, and Gabe was due at her place at seven. Yesterday, he’d bid the two of them out to dinner at Simon’s favorite hamburger restaurant. The boy had been in a good mood.

And so tonight was the night he and Macy would make love.

Jesus! Because the thought tightened his body, he ran faster to outdistance it. The weather was still warm enough to make him sweat through his navy shirt and khaki shorts. The trainees were keeping up, and he was glad to see the women doing a little better than the guys. For some reason, he got a kick out of that.

When the group arrived back at the starting point, he faced them. Though they’d all slowed down, his breathing and theirs was still a bit heavy. “Stretch for a full ten minutes, then I’m cutting you loose early.” He had to shower, shave and change.

“Woot!”

“All right!”

“Way to go, Agent Marino.”

He noticed Langston had kept up the pace better today, but his expression was sad. Hmm.

Back in his office, he stretched—no aches and pains for him tonight—sang while he showered and shaved, then took out the black pants, gray shirt he’d worn to parents’ night, which Macy confessed made him look sexy. He’d brought them to work this morning in a garment bag so he wouldn’t have to go home before heading to her.

When he finished dressing, complete with aftershave Macy had said turned her on, he looked in the mirror. Not bad for forty-five. His hair was a little long and had some gray in it, but his complexion was ruddy today, healthy. Whistling, he left the office and checked his watch. Maybe he’d find Langston and see how the kid was doing. Lately, he seemed to respond to Gabe’s attention. Deciding to detour to the men’s locker room, he smiled as he pushed open the door.

A scrape of metal.

A swoosh.

Heavy liquid poured down on him. And something else he couldn’t identify but was sticky as hell. It slithered its way under his collar, down his shirt and even into his shoes.

“Oh, my God.” A woman’s voice here? Why?

“Oh, no.”

“Shit.”

He wiped the pasty substance out of his eyes and saw the female trainees had come out from behind the lockers with mouths agape. Not only were they bedraggled and perspiring through their clothes, their faces were conflicted. It took him a minute to realize what this was.

A prank.

Meant to be perpetrated on the male recruits.

Plopping his hands on his hips, he narrowed his gaze on the ten of them. He told himself to quell his amusement, get mad, punish this prank run amuck. Problem was he didn’t feel like doing that. He managed to say, “In the classroom! Now! Stay until I get there. And think about what you did.”

Hogan stepped forward. “Agent Marino, we didn’t—”

He held up his hand, palm out. “Not a word from any of you.” He touched his hair. “Except somebody tell me what hell this is.”

Another trainee, in a tremulous voice, answered. “Sawdust and Gatorade.”

Well, that was a new one.

“You learned this where?”

Hogan murmured, “I got brothers.”

Stalking out of the room, he made his way to his office again, went into the bathroom and got a peek at himself in the mirror. His clothes, that Macy loved, were ruined for tonight. His hair was caked with slime. Even his shoes were soaked through. That made him a little mad as they were Italian leather.

He stripped and stepped into the shower. A full half hour later, he came out, dried off and went to the office closet. Shit, only a Secret Service running suit. Thankfully, there were sneakers, though they were old. He picked up the aftershave to see only a thimbleful left.

He dressed in the unimpressive outfit, then headed out to the classroom, hoping he didn’t still smell like sawdust. The door was open and he strode inside and shut it. Facing the ten women who expected a tantrum, Gabe considered his options.

He could rage like bull.

Dress them down.

But for what purpose? Discipline? These trainees already had that in spades. Besides, he’d stressed team building, and their prank was an example of camaraderie.

Aw, hell. “What I say here, what I do, is not to be shared with a single soul. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, Agent Marino.”

All agreed.

Digging into his pocket for his wallet, which had miraculously escaped the goop, he drew out a Benjamin. Put it on the front table where Hogan sat. “Go celebrate on me. This was a funny prank, showed team building and a willingness to risk. And once the guys find out it was meant for them, you all better run for the hills.”

With that he turned and walked to the door. Opened it.

“Agent Marino.” Hogan was chatty tonight.

Gabe pivoted. “Yes, Hogan.”

“Thanks for not being mad.”

He gave her a phony glare. “Who says I’m not mad?”

* * *

Wear the peach sundress tonight. It makes my mouth water.

Gabe had made the suggestion when they were texting earlier today. So, she’d chosen the lightweight gauzy outfit for tonight. Because butterflies were doing somersaults in her stomach, she’d gotten ready early, poured herself a glass of wine and waited in the living room, sipping the Merlot. Finally, the knock came. She crossed the room and opened the door.

His gaze was warm, almost amused. “You look beautiful.”

She gave him a once-over. “Um. You look—”

“Like hell. I had on the gray-shirt outfit you said you liked but ran into a bucket of Gatorade and sawdust.”

“Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that.”

He chuckled at her making light of the situation.

“You’re very…male in jock clothes, Agent Marino.”

“These are the rattiest ones I own, and my sneakers are holey.”

His self-effacing humor touched her and nervousness fled. She reached for the zipper of the suit and brought him closer. “Then, why don’t we get you out of those things right away?”

His brows raised. “A girl after my own heart.”

Her heart skittered. Because he uttered the truth. Her feelings for him scared her lately. But she pushed away all the negative reminders and dragged him inside.

* * *

Thoughts of clothes dissipated as he shut the door behind him, locked it, then faced Macy. Without another word, he bent over and picked her up in a carry. Vaguely, he realized he’d never done this before, behaved so…romantic…by sweeping a woman off her feet, literally. Still, he let himself go. Another thing that he didn’t routinely do.

She looped her arms around his neck and nestled into him. Her hair smelled like violets, and he cuddled her close. He made his way down the corridor she’d painted with trees on either side, so it felt like you were walking through a forest, and reached the end.

Her room was filled with candles, burning from every corner. They cast the furniture and walls in an ethereal glow. The mural in here was finished, he noticed, but he didn’t study it. He would later. All he could do was luxuriate in the weight of this woman against him. Experience the expectation of what would happen soon.

He set her on her feet and she peered up at him. He liked that she was tall, though still a half foot shorter than he was. When he brushed back her hair, its silkiness increased his arousal. “I want to be with you more than I can ever remember wanting anything with a woman.”

“I want to be with you, too.”

“You’re so lovely in that peach thing that I hate to do this, but…” He eased the zipper down her back and her dress fell to the floor. Beneath it, she wore only why-bother panties. “Oh, God.”

“I’m all yours, Gabe.”

“Oh, God.”

Slowly she unzipped his jacket, eased it off and lifted the hem of the white T-shirt. Once that was gone, she ran her hands over his bare chest, sending shivers to every nerve ending of the skin she touched. Leaning forward, she placed her lips on his breastbone.

“Ahhh.” He grasped on to her shoulders, creamy and smooth, and kissed one. Then he cupped her breasts, let his fingers travel down her body to her hips. He dropped to one knee and removed her panties, buried his face in her stomach. “Macy…”

Her fingers tangled in his hair, then she tried to draw him up. He stood again, shucked off his shoes, pants and briefs and pulled her to him. Their bodies aligned skin to skin, hard muscles to soft planes. Once again, she circled his neck with her arms and pressed her body to his. Their legs entwined intimately. Her scent filled his head, made his brain fuzzy.

He tipped her chin and she turned her mouth up to him. He took it with as much tenderness as he could, but soon the kiss changed and became forceful, almost desperate. But that was okay. Her return kiss was the same.

Then Gabe didn’t think for a long while.

* * *

Macy was lost in the taste and feel of the man before her. When he drew away, she eased back and sat on the bed. Slid to the center and up to the pillows. Placing one knee on the mattress, he bent to kiss her breasts. Immediately her body arched forward.

“Beautiful. All of you.”

“That feels so good.”

“To me, too.” He kneaded her, then he lowered his whole weight on the bed and leaned over. Placed his lips on a nipple and gently circled it with his tongue.

“Gabe.”

He closed his mouth over it. Her body tightened as he suckled her. She felt herself go damp and took a moment to appreciate the sensation that she hadn’t experienced in years. When his hand traveled there, he cupped her. All the while he kept up the soft pressure on her breasts. In seconds, she felt the spasms begin. “Gabe I—”

“I know, baby. Let go.”

She didn’t want to. She wanted this to be both of them at the same time, but the tremors increased until they burst upon her like fireworks in the sky.

* * *

Gabe was pleased that he could bring her pleasure first. But his body was raging. When she came back to consciousness, she gave him a look of so much feeling, he got even harder. Reaching to the floor for a condom in his pocket—he couldn’t wait much longer—his hand connected with soft knit. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I left the condoms in my black pants.”

“I bought some. In the drawer.”

“Smart girl.” He kissed her nose. Retrieving a packet, he opened it with his teeth and released it from the foil. She grabbed the damn thing from him. “Let me.”

“Not sure I can, sweetheart. I’m about to combust.”

“Please.”

Groaning, he lay back on the pillows. His erection pulsed as she took him into her hand and rubbed up and down. “No, don’t do that.” His voice was urgent, husky. “I mean it, Mace.”

Slowly, excruciatingly, she sheathed him.

Immediately, he pulled her over to straddle him. “How do you like to do this, Mace?”

“Any way. With you.”

He grasped her hips and said, “Like this, then. The first time, I get to see your face.”

She rose up on her knees and slowly eased herself down on him. She was wet but tight.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Hmm. Better than.”

He lifted her up again, and again, then brought her down gently. When she accepted him fully, she took over and moved by herself, which was good, because by then, he was clutching the sheet. Up and down. Slow…fast…hard…harder. He was about to come when he felt the spirals inside her begin again.

“Jesus,” he said, gripping her hips.

Every single muscle in his body tensed. In moments, he hardened even more and then exploded inside her.

* * *

Macy felt Gabe come back to reality after the incredible pleasure they’d given each other. His beautiful eyes opened to her as she braced herself over him. His knuckles came up to caress her cheek. She felt the touch all the way to her toes, now that she was so sensitized by him.

“That was…unbelievable.” His voice was hoarse. Sexy.

“For me, too, Gabe.”

“Yeah, but I almost blacked out.”

“I love hearing that.” She kissed his nose. “It’s a big ego booster for a girl with little experience.”

He cocked his head. “You haven’t heard much praise before?”

“No, no talk about the past.”

“I want to know sometime.”

“Later.”

She lay down beside him and pulled up the sheets. He tugged her close, clasped her to him as if he wanted no daylight between them.

“The mural’s beautiful.” He could see the waves, which seemed to rush up to shore in the flickering candlelight. A setting sun in the distance. “You like the water.”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t it be fun to go to a tropical island when the weather was freezing cold here?”

“Never did that?”

“Spike kept saying we’d go, but he never made the time. I could have gone once with Joanie, but he didn’t want to be responsible for Simon.”

“I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“Simon got off on time,” she said, changing the subject. “He was so excited. I hope there aren’t any incidents.”

“Have there been?”

“Well, he’s only gone once before, and he had one bad night. I had to go up there but he didn’t want to come home.”

“Sorry. Maybe nothing will go wrong this time.”

“I hope so. Now tell me about the Gatorade.”

His chest rumbled. “A prank by the female trainees meant to be perpetrated on the guys. I was unlucky enough to walk into the men’s locker room first. To encourage one of the boys who’s struggling.”

“No good deed goes unpunished.” She giggled. “What did the girls do?”

“They freaked. They tried to explain, but I cut them off.”

“I can imagine.”

“I told them to go to the classroom while I showered for a second time.”

Reaching up, she slid a hand through his hair. “You still have specks of sawdust here.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Did you discipline them? Spike said trainees are treated strictly.”

“I thought about doing that. But it was funny, and more so, it showed camaraderie and team building.”

“Not with the guys.”

“No, it does. You have to be comfortable with each other to do something like that. As a matter of fact, they’re getting along better than most classes.” He laughed and told her about the hundred-dollar bill.

“How funny. Were they shocked?

“Yep. But I kept thinking about the instructor I had for my own training. He was a mean son of a bitch. He personally drove three men who would have been excellent agents out of the program.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Later, he got released from the Secret Service. His inflexibility must have had something to do with it.”

“You’re a nice guy, you know?”

“Nice? I’m a nice guy?” He sat up halfway in protest. “How dare you tell me that after what we did in this bed?”

“Okay, big guy, how does this sound? Being with you was the best sexual experience of my life. I’ll never forget it.”

His eyes widened. “That sounds like a goodbye.”

“Let’s not talk about the future. Let’s stay in the very pleasant present.”

“You’re on.” Sitting up fast, he set her back and covered her body with his. She knew that body intimately and couldn’t wait to see what he’d do now.

Lowering his head, he kissed her. From there, it got very hot, very fast.

* * *

“Here you go. A double order of oysters.” The waitress set the plate between Macy and Gabe. “Enjoy.”

The next night, sitting in a corner of Black Salt Restaurant on MacArthur Street in D.C. Gabe gave her hand a quick squeeze across the table. “I’m famished.”

She chuckled. “Me, too.”

He sipped his tart Chardonnay and stared at her. She’d worn her hair up in some kind of knot that left tendrils near her cheeks. The style accented the scoop of her tight-fitting yellow dress and the gold at her ears and wrist.

“The past twenty-four hours have been amazing, Gabe.”

“I fully agree.” He could still see her over him, on her knees, sitting back on her legs as she tortured him. “You are pret-ty good in the sack, woman.”

“I am?” She seemed genuinely pleased. Too much so.

“Of course.” He reached out and grasped her hand, the food forgotten. “Don’t you know that, Mace?”

“I know I’m quiet on the outside.”

“And there’s a tiger inside.”

She squeezed his fingers. “Because of you, Gabe. And only with you.”

He was shocked at the comment. She’d been married twelve years. But she’d referred to this in bed last night. She’d insisted on tabling the conversation. He brought it up again.

“I’m sorry if sex wasn’t the best for you.”

She picked up a cocktail fork and speared an oyster. “I need to make up for lost time, I guess.”

“I could pay the bill now,” he said, half meaning it.

“Nah. We’ll wait.” She motioned to their surroundings. “I read on the Internet that this place has a Mondrian motif.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what that means.”

“Piet Mondrian was a twentieth-century artist who painted mostly sets of rectangles in black-and-white, like these frosted-glass partitions. Sometimes, he used a pane of red or yellow, too. I’ll show you one later in one of my art books.”

“You were an art major in college, right?”

“Mmm.”

“You didn’t pursue it?”

“I did some graphic design when we lived in D.C. But when we moved to Maryland, there wasn’t as much need for me. Though that is how I got to the restaurant.” She smiled with nostalgia. “I worked on some promo for Cyrus, the original owner. After I had Simon, I wanted to get out of the house, so I took a bartending job. Cyrus and I got close then.”

“And the rest is history. Did you ever consider going back to art?”

“Spike thought it was a useless major but said if I wanted to go back, I should.”

“How nice of him.”

She seemed surprised at his sarcasm. “You picked up by now that our marriage wasn’t all that great.”

“I have. And I hate that.”

“Yeah, me, too. Spike said you were married once.”

“To a school teacher from D.C. She hated the Secret Service work. We realized our relationship was over when she signed up for the Peace Corps. None of what happened was her fault, though.”

The elephant in the room, his job, made them both quiet. So they polished off the oysters and ordered a Tuscan-kale-and-red-cress Caesar salad. He’d never had either before. “This is delicious.”

“I like to try new things.” She gave him a sexy look and he felt her toes inch up under his pant leg.

“Macy, darlin’, you’re killing me here. Let’s either eat or go back to my place.”

“Am I bothering you?”

“You know damn well you are!”

She relented during the rest of the meal—crusted baked halibut for him and bouillabaisse, which smelled heavenly, for her. Gabe loved her naughtiness, but in the midst of it, he realized he liked simply eating dinner with her, taking a walk late at night and catching a show on TV.

Knowing that scared him some. She’d made no commitment to keep seeing him once he left. They couldn’t stay away from each other when he was in such close proximity, so they’d agreed to a relationship for now. But tonight, in the dim corner of this beautiful restaurant, he wondered how he’d ever let her go.

* * *

Macy had been aroused all night by the flirty nature of their talk. And maybe the oysters, though she didn’t totally buy the notion that they had aphrodisiac properties. Gabe’s mere presence had kept her edgy for hours. So she sidled close to him in the cab, enjoying the feel of his hand on her knee, the way her head fit on his shoulder.

“Here we are,” the cabbie said.

When they exited, she stared at his two-story brick building with two units in it. “This is a nice place.”

“Yeah.” He led her up the sidewalk and let them inside. She heard the door close a little too hard, then found herself pressed up against it. “What—?”

His mouth came down on hers forcefully and he took her lips. Claimed them. She responded in kind, his urgency fueling hers. Macy didn’t know how long they devoured each other there against the dark wood. He drew back and went for his shirt. His buttons popped, and he whipped it off, then growled, “Upstairs.”

“No, here.”

“No, in bed.” He dragged her to the staircase.

They’d scaled three steps when she stopped and pulled his head close for another kiss. Then she bent down and swept the little dress off and tossed it aside.

“Mace…”

She disposed of the lacy bra and thong after going up a ways more. Then she went for the buckle of his belt and got it off him before he could draw her up more steps. “Here,” she begged.

“Not a chance.” At the top, he bent down and hauled her over his shoulder in a carry. He swatted her butt. “Let’s go, Lolita. I’m gonna have you now.”

His words only served to inflame her more.