Chapter Two
He wasn’t thinking straight.
That was obvious. Because if he was, he wouldn’t be here.
Earlier, he’d been in to visit his father, who was doing as well as expected and was on so much morphine, he didn’t even recognize Nate. Then he’d gone home, fed Trixie, showered, changed, and mysteriously found himself in a cab heading for the Ritz.
He’d loitered outside, not even sure what he planned. No way was he going to see Regan Malloy; he wasn’t that crazy. He’d just needed to get out of the house. Two years ago, he’d moved back there after his father had gotten the terminal diagnosis. They’d known then it wasn’t going to be a long haul. In fact, his dad had lasted much longer than the year the doctors had predicted. But the empty house depressed the hell out of Nate.
So, somehow, here he was. But he really had no plans to go inside the hotel. Anyway, what the hell was she doing in the fucking Ritz—spending her ill-gotten gains? He’d never be able to stay here on a detective’s salary. Probably not even if he made chief inspector.
No, of course he wasn’t going inside. Then why the hell was he nodding to the uniformed doorman holding the doors open for Nate to pass? Inside, he stood for a second in the reception area, took a step toward the concierge’s desk. He could use his badge and ask for her room number…say it was police business.
I’m out of my goddamn head.
Instead, he made his way to the dimly lit bar and sat at a small booth, asking for a scotch when the waiter came. He downed it in one gulp and called the man back, ordering another.
The skin on the back of his neck prickled. He could sense her closing in on him, but he didn’t look up, just peered into his glass of scotch. Finally, when the weight of her gaze became too heavy, he glanced up…and just stared.
I should not be here.
The badly dressed woman from the prison was gone. In place of the baggy jeans and T-shirt, she wore a short black dress, sleeveless with a low-cut neckline that showed the swell of her breasts. Her legs were bare, and she wore red-and-black high heels. He dragged his gaze up to her face. She was watching him, one eyebrow quirked.
“You come here often?” she murmured. Her voice, low and husky, had haunted his dreams for years.
“Actually, it’s my first time.”
A smile flickered across her full lips. “Mine, too.” She studied him, her head cocked. “You want to buy a girl a drink? Help me celebrate—it’s a special day for me.”
What was she doing? Pretending that she didn’t know him? Well, if she wanted to playact, he was all for it. His life right now was enough to drive anyone into fantasyland. “Why not?” He raised a hand to a passing waiter as she slid into the seat opposite him and laid her purse on the table.
“White wine, please.” She smiled at the waiter and then turned her attention to him. “So, what should I call you?”
He shrugged. “Nate will do.”
“And I’m Regan. So, Nate, do you live in the city?”
“Born and bred.”
“Me, too. Though I’ve been away for a while.”
“Vacation?”
“I suppose you could call it an extended vacation.” She pursed her lips. “Though the accommodation left a little to be desired and the food was awful.”
“How about the company?”
“Actually, I met some very nice people.”
“No doubt like-minded.”
Amusement flashed in her eyes. “No doubt. Anyway, it’s my first night back, and I was alone in my room, and I thought…what are the chances of me finding a handsome stranger in the bar willing to…entertain me?”
He went still as his brain flooded with all the ways he could entertain her. It suddenly came to him how much time had passed since he’d been with a woman. The last time had been before she was locked away. They’d both had a long period of abstinence. Was she feeling as needy as he was?
What was she doing here?
She had to hate him, though nothing showed on her face.
He sat back as the waiter poured her wine, then watched as she took the first sip. She closed her eyes as she drank, clearly enjoying the taste. There wouldn’t have been a lot of chardonnay in Holloway.
She was beautiful. The Malloys were of Irish origin, and it showed in her black hair and pale skin, her blue eyes, her wide red lips. Her skin had a slightly sallow look—not enough fresh air in prison—and there was a delicate hint of vulnerability to her, the skin tight over her cheekbones, her jawline sharply defined. He’d seen a lot of ex-cons. However tough they thought they were, doing time was never easy.
She put her glass down and caught him staring. “What?”
“I was just thinking what a beautiful woman you are.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“When you walked into the bar tonight, I thought…what’s the chance of a beautiful woman like that spending time with a man like me?”
Something flashed in her eyes. Anger maybe, but it was gone before he could identify it. “Maybe I have zero taste.”
“Are you going to spoil this?”
She sucked in her lower lip and then flicked it with her tongue, leaving it glistening. Blood sank to his groin. “This?” she asked. “Is there a ‘this’ to spoil?”
He shrugged. “You’re back from a long vacation, feeling lonely. I’ve had a hard day at the office.”
“Tomorrow we both get back to real life.”
“But tonight, we’re here together… So what do you want to do, Regan?”
“You have any ideas?”
“You know, I’m not sure. This isn’t my usual habitat.”
“And I’m guessing I’m not your usual woman.”
“Hell, honey, it’s been so long, I’ve no clue what my usual woman is.”
Her eyes widened at that.
Jesus, he had hundreds of ideas, all of which ended with his dick buried deep inside her. He was beginning to think she was on the same wavelength. And while he didn’t understand why, everything inside him was screaming to take this to its obvious conclusion.
Don’t ask questions.
He leaned in toward her and spoke quietly. “My dick’s been rock hard since you sat your pretty self at my table.”
She didn’t say anything, but the next moment her bare foot slid up his leg under the table. He held himself still as her toes came to rest on his groin. Heat flooded him as she massaged his cock.
Her eyelids drooped, and her nostrils flared. “You weren’t lying,” she murmured. “Hmm, so what should we do with this?”
Again, he had a whole load of ideas. Well, maybe only one. But he still couldn’t get a feel on her emotions. Why was she doing this? “Are you going to lead me on and then dump my ass? Payback?”
There was that flicker of emotion again, and her eyes narrowed. “Payback for what, Nate? You think you’ve done something wrong?”
Logically, no. He’d done his job. No more.
“Maybe it’s you who’s going to spoil this,” she continued. “Because that would be so easy.”
“Perhaps I just need a little gesture of good faith.”
She pursed her lips, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She removed her foot from his groin, reached beneath the table, wriggled a couple of times. When her hand reappeared, she was dangling a scrap of black lace from her fingertips.
He swallowed. “Jesus, you’re a bad girl.”
She gave a low, husky laugh as she tossed the panties toward him. He glanced around, but no one was taking any notice. He picked up the scrap of lace—there was hardly anything to it—and raised it to his face. Breathing in the musky sweet scent of her, his cock swelled until it was almost painful.
“Jesus,” he said again. Shoving the panties in his pocket, he reached out with a slightly trembling hand and grabbed his glass, swallowing the whiskey in one gulp, and pushed himself to his feet. He had no notion where he was going, just that he needed to go somewhere. With this woman. Where he could get her alone.
He stood by the table, stuck out a hand, held his breath. When she slid her fingers into his, he exhaled. Just for tonight. He’d forget everything: his father, the fact that she was an ex-con, all the reasons he shouldn’t be here.
Don’t think.
At the doorway, he paused. Where to go?
She gave his hand a tug. “I have a room.”
Hallelujah.
He allowed her to pull him toward the elevator. Luckily, it was empty, and as the doors closed, he dragged her into his arms and pressed her back against the wall. His mouth came down on hers, and her lips parted. She tasted of sharp white wine and an underlying sweetness that drove every thought from his head.
He ran one hand down over the curve of her breast, her stomach, the sharp jut of her hipbone, then lower and under the hem of her little black dress to glide over the satin skin of her thigh. Her panties were in his pocket, which meant she was bare underneath.
Finding the silky curls at her sex, he delved further, his fingers discovering the hot, slippery wetness between her thighs.
Christ, she wanted him, and that was the biggest turn-on ever.
She shifted her feet to allow him access, and he pushed one finger inside. She was so tight and hot. A gasp escaped her.
“Nate.” She tugged on his hair, and he reluctantly raised his head. “We’re here.”
Behind him, the door slid open.
He rested his forehead against her for one second, and then slowly withdrew his hand.
“It’s not far,” she said.
She fumbled with the key card as she let them in, hampered by his hands running over her body, searching out her curves beneath the dress, sliding under her skirt to grope her ass.
Finally the door was open, and they almost fell inside. He slammed it closed, pushed her back against it. Grabbing the hem of her dress, he tugged it over her head and tossed it behind him. His fingers went unerringly to the clasp at her back and a moment later, her bra landed on top of the dress, and she was gloriously, totally naked. How long it had been since his arms had been full of naked woman?
And never this one. Except in his fantasies.
He pulled her against him, loving the press of her breasts and her belly. Clasping his hands on her buttocks, he lifted her, so she wrapped her long legs around him, and he burrowed his face in the side of her neck, breathing in the clean, sweet smell of her. But he was wearing too much, and his dick was still trapped in his pants.
He held her steady against the wall as her hands moved between them, unbuckling his belt, then the button, finally lowering the zipper. He groaned in relief as his shaft found freedom. Not for long, though, as she wrapped a fist around him.
“So pretty.” She squeezed, and he nearly exploded.
There was something he was missing. “Shit, no fucking condoms.” Panic flooded his mind. “This isn’t happening.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not.”
She waved a hand across the room to where a pink box with a ribbon stood on the table. Not releasing her, he staggered over to the box, held her while she rifled through it and then tipped out the contents. “Voilà.” She held up a condom. “Now, where were we?”
For a second, he had a moment of clarity. What the hell was going on? What was he doing here?
“Stop goddamn thinking,” she muttered. “If you stop now, I swear I will kill you. And then they’ll no doubt lock me up again and throw away the key. That does not fit in with my future plans.”
Reaching between them again, she stroked his cock, then squeezed, and pleasure flooded his body. He pushed the doubts behind him. He’d worry about them tomorrow.
She tore the foil packet, tossed it on the floor. He gritted his teeth as she rolled the condom over his shaft, and then he was ready.
No more waiting. But now that the anticipation was over, he slowed down. If this was a once-only affair—and how could it be anything else—he wanted to savor every moment.
She shifted her hands to his shoulders, and he stared down into her blue eyes.
“Please,” she whispered.
He slid his hands down over the silky curve of her spine, over the swell of her ass. Holding her gaze with his, he lifted her so she wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock homed in on the entrance to her body, and he could feel the heat and wetness. Still he held off, as though he could make this last forever. In the end, she lifted herself up, impaled herself on the length of him, and sank down until he was lodged deep inside.
And it felt so fucking good.
Reaching between them, he slid his fingers through her curls, finding the pouting swollen nub peeking out. He stroked over it gently, and then reached lower, so his fingers were slippery as they played with her, priming her.
Then he couldn’t wait, pulling out and slamming back in, her pussy tight around him, dragging him back, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He jammed her against the wall and was pumping into her hard and fast. The pleasure was building, coalescing in his balls, and he forced himself to slow, grinding his pelvic bone against her with each stroke. She was close; he could feel it in the tenseness of her muscles. He slipped a hand between them, massaging her clit with the pad of his thumb. She went rigid, then her head fell back, and she came in his arms. Her inner muscles gripped him hard, and he released the last of his control and came with her, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over him, dragging him under.
He lost awareness for a moment. When he came back to himself, he was wrapped around her, she around him, as if they were trying to become one.
Which was fanciful crap.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his head from where it was buried in the curve of her neck. He glanced around the room and then carried her to the sofa. He had to unclasp her legs from around his back, and when he pulled out of her, he immediately wanted to be back inside. He lowered her to the cushions. God, she was beautiful. Her eyes were closed, but she blinked them open, and her gaze drifted down over him.
“You didn’t even take your pants off. I think you were more desperate than me.” Her gaze narrowed. “What’s your excuse?”
He scowled but wasn’t going to deny it. Or answer. Instead, he straightened and looked around the room, then headed for what he presumed to be the bathroom.
He disposed of the condom and then stood, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal and his mind to start working again.
These feelings were too much.
He had to get out of there.
But his body was telling him once was not enough. While his mind was telling him that no amount would be enough, and he should run the hell away from her before he got in any deeper.
This was past crazy.
He straightened his clothes, ran a hand though his hair, and prepared to make a strategic retreat.
Hopefully, she’d also realized what a huge fucking mistake this was, and she’d hustle him out of there faster than he could say “Thanks, and I’m leaving now.”