Cherry Adair - T-flac 09 (9 page)

“Honduras—great diving there.”

“Love diving. We’ll teach the boys.”

Honduras—hell, all of South America—was being checked as they spoke. His comment coaxed a small smile to her pretty lips. Caleb was distracted again as he imagined nibbling her lower lip.

“Yes, we’ll want the children to be good swimmers.”

It didn’t task his imagination much to think of her in a tiny swimsuit. She’d look great in a skimpy thong, her skin oiled and—he shook his head to banish his offtrack thoughts.

“The water’s also nice in the Caribbean,” she said. “Bermuda has beautiful pink sandy beaches. Then there’s the Mediterranean, lots of private islands to rent.”

Shaw wasn’t in his usual haunts anywhere in the Caribbean, or Bermuda, or frigging around his known hangouts along the Mediterranean. They’d checked. Double-checked, and would continue to watch. But the man hadn’t amassed the kind of wealth he had by being stupid.

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T-FLAC wasn’t the only group after the son of a bitch.

“Do you have a favorite?”

Shaw’s daughter—
yeah, remind yourself who this woman is, smartass
—shrugged. “I used to, but that was a long time ago.”

Time to change the subject. Preferably to an activity where he could imagine her fully dressed. He
had
to tamp down this attraction—bloody hell.
Attraction
would be like calling a forest fire a weenie roast. He had to beat down the sparks before he burned up. “Opera?”

Heather laughed at his expression as he’d wanted her to do. Unfortunately her laughter shot to his groin like a heat-seeking missile, making his pants too tight and sitting damned uncomfortable.

Jesus. SOS. He was in big trouble here.

“You look like a kid told to eat spinach when you pull that face.” She sipped her drink, automatically licking whipped cream off the corner of her mouth. “I love the opera,” she told him cheerfully. “How about ballet?”

He turned her hand over and stroked her palm with his finger. She had a long lifeline, and newly formed little calluses on her fingers. Must be from the tools she used when she made her jewelry. “Love it as much as I do opera.” The smell of her constricted his chest.

“Girls’ night out, then.”

“No problem. I’ll stay home with the kids. We’ll eat junk food and stay up la—” His fingers tightened over hers on the table. “Know what I want more than my next breath?”

Her gaze went from his mouth back to his eyes. She shook her head. He leaned in, close enough for his
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breath to stir her hair. “To kiss you.”

Her mouth parted softly. Her pulse leapt at the base of her throat, and her pupils flared in a show of nerves and excitement. “Are—” She swallowed hard, then licked her bottom lip. A quick heated swipe.

“Are you asking permission?”

He shook his head. “A kiss loses the lure of spontaneity if one has to ask.”

Her pupils dilated. “Are you trying to lure me, Caleb Edge?”

Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he pressed closed lips to her slightly damp palm.
Scared, Little Red
Riding Hood?
“Not lure. Seduce.”
Trust me.

Her fingers curled around his. Once again she didn’t pull away. Their eyes met and held, hers heavy lidded. She had a nervous habit of biting the corner of her lower lip that drove him insane with hunger, and she did that now. Caleb almost groaned out loud.

He dipped his head, then paused, his mouth a breath away from hers. Skimming his fingers along the curve of her jaw he watched her eyes darken to aged whiskey with anticipation. She dragged in a ragged breath. Not fear. Excitement.

He wanted to kiss her so badly he shook with it.

Hoisted by his own petard.

As his pal Jake liked to say: “It’s good to want things.”

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Helpless to prevent it, good intentions be damned, Caleb’s vision blurred as he closed the gap. He shut his eyes as his mouth touched hers. Not giving her time to think. Not allowing himself a moment to shore up his resistance. He didn’t
want
to resist her, damn it.

This would work, he assured himself. All part of developing that trust. Yeah. Right.

Soft and unthreatening, he brushed his mouth back and forth until her lips parted on a sigh. He’d meant it to be brief, a show of interest, nothing more. Instead he found himself plunged into unexpected depths as she responded.

His blood pooled in his groin as the slick heat of her tongue came to greet him. She tasted amazing, and her response sent a jolt of pure possessiveness through him.

He felt her hand on his shoulder, her fingers curling into the fabric. He did a slow exploration of the heated cavern of her mouth and felt a blinding, overpowering,
insane,
sense of homecoming.

Mine, he thought.
Mine.

Cupping the back of her head in his palm he drew her closer, letting her long hair glide over the back of his hand. Slowly he deepened the kiss, exploring with long, lazy strokes of his tongue. She wasn’t shy tasting back as her tongue met his, slick and agile. The flavor and texture of her was intoxicating. She smelled of soap, and tasted like chocolate-flavored coffee. Delicious. Intoxicating.

God, he thought, sinking into her sweetness, listening to her ragged breath, feeling the subtle tightening of her fingers on his shoulder. She tasted of promises fulfilled. Hope realized. Joy delivered.

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His brain went blank as her essence filled him to the brim. God—
focus,
he told himself,
don’t blow this.

Don’t scare her off.
But it wasn’t
Heather
who was scared.

How had this suddenly become more than a casual seduction to get intel? More powerful. More intense, more—everything.

The very smell of her skin went to his brain like an aphrodisiac. Hunger simmered through his blood.

Hot. Insistent.

He kept his touch gentle but his pulse hammered frantically. He wanted to taste her skin, wanted to rip off her clothes, wanted to take her, in
public
for Christ’s sake! Right here, right now. Right on the small round table holding their coffee cups. He wanted to skim his mouth from her head to her toes. And then do it again.

He slid his hands down. Exerting gentle pressure on the small of her back, he brought her upper body even closer. His other hand, not quite steady, combed through her rain-damp hair, releasing the fragrances of sun-warmed flowers. The strands felt silken and cool as he buried his fingers deep enough to feel the warmth of her scalp. Lust, sharp and white-hot, raced through his bloodstream.

He wanted her in a thousand ways. Preferably naked, prone, and in private.

He wanted to feel the length of her body pressed to his. He wanted to wrap his arms about her naked body. He wanted to carry her off to his cave and ravish her.

He
wanted.

Wanted all of her.

Christ.

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Oblivious to the other customers, Caleb hauled her to her feet, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

God, yes. She fit him perfectly. A sensual fire licked through his veins as her soft curves molded against him and her arms snaked around his neck. Pulling her more firmly against his body he felt a blinding, searing surge of connection that stunned him in its intensity.

Forgetting that he was pretending, he dipped his head and went back for more. He couldn’t think clearly as everything about her consumed him. The need to bury himself deep inside her made his hands shake and his blood hot.

The kiss tore the breath from Heather’s lungs, and she found herself on her feet without knowing quite how she’d gotten there. His tongue, wet and sensual and very sure of itself, slid between her teeth to taste and explore. Heat exploded through her body.

Her knees immediately went weak, and she leaned into him for support. His arms closed around her, molding her against the hard length of his body. Fisting one hand in the back of her raincoat he drew her more tightly against him. His fingers tangled in her hair as he crushed her mouth beneath his as if he were starving and she was a feast.

A long delicious shudder passed through her as he possessed her mouth with obvious relish. He used his teeth and his tongue and the hard press of his body to churn up sleeping desires deep inside her.

Passion unfurled. Not like a lamb. But like a lion. With a deep roar, and a hunger that should’ve shocked her. Instead she moaned low in her throat, turning liquid inside as she arched against him, returning his passion with heat of her own.

His warm velvet tongue stroked, teased, played with hers in an erotic dance that dissolved her resolve a little more with each stroke.

Pulse pounding loudly in her ears, she grew dizzy with pleasure as his need set fire to her own and the kiss became impossibly more intense in response to her participation.

Tasting his desire fueled her own.

The coffee shop, and everyone in it, disappeared. Standing on tiptoe she pressed even closer to his wonderful mouth.

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A feverish rush of pleasure engulfed her as his tongue moved in slow, relentless strokes and his hands drew her more tightly into his embrace. The hardness of his thighs pressed intimately against her softness, and the solid muscles of his chest made her breasts ache to be touched by his hands, his mouth. His hair felt like damp silk between her fingers.

She’d been kissed before, she thought, dizzy with longing. This was somehow…more.

More intense. More erotic. More compelling.

Being held like this, by him, loosened something that had been tight inside her forever. Her tummy danced and her heart fluttered with the sheer pleasure of his touch. The constriction inside unfurled like a rose opening its petals to the sun. If she had a brain in her head she’d push him away and run. This wasn’t for her. Not here. Not now. But, God. The danger of trusting him didn’t compare to the strength of the temptation in his kiss.

Had she ever felt this way before?

Buoyant. Jubilant. Euphoric.

No. Never.

She’d never realized that a simple melding of lips could be so blatantly erotic. Caleb turned kissing into an art form. As if the kiss, and the kiss alone, was the prize at the end of the journey. She found complete and utter pleasure in the hunger of his mouth on hers, in the safety and strength of his arms circling her body.

His body felt deliciously big and solid pressed against hers. He kissed her hot. He kissed her hungrily.

He kissed her impatiently. As if he couldn’t wait one more second to taste her. God. He kissed her as if they’d kissed a thousand times before. He seemed to know what she wanted, what she needed.

Delivering a million promises with his mouth.

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Not that she was going anywhere. She whimpered into his mouth. This was pure Heaven and she realized with a shock that the last few years she’d been a desert, parched for water, and suddenly here was a flash flood. Her skin soaked up his touch. She gave in to the sensation of his warm mouth, to the strength of his embrace as he both claimed and protected her.

The kiss went on and on, deep and insatiable. Her core temperature rose until she burned, the heat fueled by nothing more than his lips and tongue and the press of his fully clothed body against hers.

The hard length of his erection pressed against her stomach, and Heather felt frenzied enough to climb his body so that he fit where she ached most. No, she had never felt like this before.

Someone in the coffee shop started to applaud. Others joined in. A male voice shouted out, “Get a room, dude!”

She almost moaned aloud when Caleb broke contact. How had he managed to come to his senses when she was still shaken and giddy with need and churned up inside? Her lips pursed and she tightened her arms about his neck, not wanting to separate from his heat. One more taste. One more kiss. Didn’t he crave it, too?

“Jesus.” His voice was thick as he lifted his head. The color of his eyes had deepened to almost black, and he looked as poleaxed as she felt. The skin across his angular cheekbones was stretched taut, and his eyes blazed as though he had a high fever. “Any more of this, and they’ll call the Vice cops out. I want—Hell—
need
to be alone with you. Now.”

She was used to good-looking, eligible men hitting on her. But she’d never met anyone like Caleb. In her social set, a lot of the men
tried
to look dangerously sexy. Caleb just…was.

This wanton public display was so unlike her, her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment as she realized everyone in the place had been watching them. But, God. She was so tired of being alone. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d craved human contact until he’d touched her. She craved
this.
She craved
him.