Dangerous Secrets (12 page)

Fuck me, he thought.
 

He eased her into a complete sated meltdown and picked her up, carrying her to an oversize leather lounge chair. He could feel her stare, but he didn’t make eye contact. Not now, not this upset. But when he set her down, she pressed her lips to his and he found himself locked in a drugging kiss he didn’t want. They’d kiss at the same time they went to his bedroom. When they made love.

She slid her hand over his crotch. He wanted her hand there but he pulled it away, his eyes meeting hers now. “Face the edge of the chair.”

Uncertainty flared in her pretty blue eyes. “I can do much more facing you.”

“And I can fuck you much better if you aren’t. Turn over and let me look at you.” He pressed her toward the end of the chair, leaned her over it, pulled her ass into the air and spread her wide. “You want to seduce me, you stay just like that while I undress, all wide open and ready for me.” They’d delved into a bit of BDSM in the past and he used that now. He smacked her backside, just hard enough to remind her he was in charge.
 

She yelped and glanced over her shoulder and quickly. “That wasn’t nice.”

He smacked her again. “I’m not nice. Not when you don’t do what I say.”

“All right Luke,” she said softly. “But you better remember how good I am at this game.”

“I remember how good you are at games, sweetheart,” he promised. “I remember really damn well.”

He pushed away from her and made quick work of undressing, sheathing the thick pulse of his erection with a condom he’d made sure was in his pocket before the wedding.
 

She didn’t move. She just kept that fine ass in the air for him to drool over. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. His cock didn’t think it was bad, but then, he never seemed to think with the right head where Julie was concerned.

He moved to her, feeling like that wild animal again, framing her hips with his, his shaft settling between her legs. She moaned and arched towards him. He dragged his fingers through the wet heat of her sex, and then followed with his cock, before pressing inside her.
 

They moaned together at the first penetration, and he drove into her, until she had all of him. He fought the urge to lean in, to wrap himself around her and tell her what he felt, to tell her how much he’d craved this, and her. But he was human, and for the first time in a very long time, since the first time he’d been in a war zone and known he might have to pull the trigger – kill or be killed – he felt vulnerable.
 

He reached for the anger again, clung to it, and with it, pulled back and then pumped back into her. His hands settled on her slender backside, the sound of her moans ripping through him, driving him onward. He pumped and pumped, thrust, and ground into her. Faster and harder until their breathing filled his ears, and pleasure was all there was.
 

And somehow, he forgot the anger, somehow he wrapped himself around her, and was kissing her shoulder, her neck, whispering her name, touching her everywhere, anywhere. And he wanted to turn her over, he wanted to kiss her, to make love to her, but they were too far gone, too deep into each other, into the passion. He felt the rise of release in her, in him. Felt her body tense a moment before she clenched around his shaft, sending a rush of pleasure through him. His orgasm came with hers, hard and fast and unexpected, ripped from deep in his body.
 

When they both finally stilled, he collapsed gently around her, careful not to hurt her. He laid there for long moments, completely sated, blown away by how damn good sex was with Julie. Sex. God. He didn’t know how he’d come to hate that word, when before Julie, he’d loved it so much.
 

Then, suddenly, he heard her muffled sobs. Crying. Julie, who put on this power chick facade, who made him believe she felt nothing, was crying. She’d buried her face in the chair, trying to muffle the sound, but she was absolutely crying. He’d done everything wrong with her, let emotion he wasn’t used to experiencing drive his actions. And now he had to figure out how, and even if, he could fix this.
 

Chapter Ten

Julie tried to bite back her tears and failed. She had never been so confused and emotional in all her life. In fact, the past few days were all about confused. She was crying in front of Luke, or well, in his presence, and she really didn’t want him to know.
 

He buried his face in her hair. “Don’t cry.” His voice was a gentle whisper against her neck. “Please baby, don’t cry.”

So much for hiding her face, so much for being the strong, in control woman, that she’d always been.
 

“Sweetheart, turn around,” he urged, sliding away from her.
 

She turned all right, and tried to scoot off the chair before he saw her face, hoping for a mad dash for her clothes. No such luck. He tossed the condom in a trashcan and still managed to stop her progress, only to hug her and say, “I’m sorry.”

He was sorry? Oh God. Now, she was so pathetic she’d made the man feel he had to apologize for having sex with her? She pushed back from him.
 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she insisted, swiping at her damp cheeks, frustrated at herself for her weakness. “I’m hormonal, and my best friend got married, and my client might have killed his wife. I’m not myself. I just…I need to go home and have some time to myself.” She tried to get up.

He stopped her again. “If you go home, I’m going with you.”

She shook her head. “No.” She crossed her arms over her chest, aware of her nakedness in a way she never had been before. And his. She was very aware of his long, lean, muscular body that she hadn’t seen until now, because he put her back to him. “My building is safe. I have top notch security. I’ll be fine.”

“Your client might have killed his wife,” he said. “You just said that yourself.” He studied her for a long, intense moment. “You told me to fuck you and I got pissed about it.”

The confession surprised her. “I…you used to like it when I said that.”
 

“And I still would if the circumstances were different.” He brushed the hair from her eyes. “I wanted tonight to be different. I…” He scrubbed his hand over his jaw and let out a heavy breath, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I screwed this up royally.”

“You didn’t screw up anything, Luke. I just don’t know what you want from me.”

He turned to her again. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t
 
know,” she said, feeling cornered and uncertain.

“You didn’t complain when I brought you here tonight. You didn’t argue when I said I was going to stay with you. What did you come here wanting tonight?”

She could say sex. She could, and she knew she could, and maybe she even should. But she didn’t. She reached up and ran her fingers over the strong line of his jaw and she said exactly what she felt. “I just wanted to be with you.”

His eyes settled heavily on her face, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “You wanted sex.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I mean yes. No. I just wanted to be with you, Luke, and if that’s the wrong–”

He picked her up and she yelped at the sudden action, clinging to him until they were off the main living room and inside the master suite.
 

Unlike Lauren and Royce’s place, there was a huge window above a massive bed, where moonlight beamed down and illuminated the room. He laid her on the bed and settled his big, wonderful, naked body on top of hers.

“Do you know what I wanted when I brought you here tonight?”

There was something in his eyes that made her heart thunder in her ears and her chest tighten. “What?”

“To make love to you, Julie,” he said. “To have you make love to me. And I didn’t think that’s what you wanted at all.”

That tight feeling in her chest expanded and her eyes began to burn again. He was asking her to give them a chance beyond sex and while she knew this was the moment of no return she really should run from, she couldn’t. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’d like that very much.”

With those words, there was a dangerously scary and somehow remarkably wonderful crack in her armor that became even more wonderful when he kissed her, when he made love to her with that kiss. But when he was inside her again, when they moved together, when she stared into his eyes, she felt no fear. There was nothing left but Luke and endless possibility.
 

***

Julie woke in a dark, dark place. She tried to move, but her shoulders were lodged against something. She reached up with her hands and hit something solid. Oh God. Where was she? Hello! Hello! She tried to move again, and panic rose inside her. She started pushing on the hard surface over her head. It was too dark, way too dark. Suffocating. She coughed, realizing she couldn’t breathe and suddenly it was hot. So very hot. Orange light flamed around her and she could see now. She was in a casket. The wood around her began to burn, flames licking at her limbs.

Julie sat up and gasped for air, running her hands over her arms, her breath heaving out. She was not burning. She was not in a casket.
 

Luke was beside her, saying something. “Julie. Baby. It was a dream.”

She blinked into the sunlight, bringing a massive Ansel Adams black and white woodsy scene into focus. It hung on the wall in front of Luke’s bed.
 

“Nightmare,” she whispered, and turned to him. “Luke, I was in a casket going up in flames, and,” she swallowed hard, “I’m sure you know where this is going. I need to call her sister.”
 

“Then we’ll call,” he assured her and reached over her to pull open a black nightstand where he removed the piece of paper. “I’ll get you a phone.”

“I left mine in your truck, I think,” she said. “I don’t remember bringing in my purse at all.”

He brushed his lips over hers. “I’ll go get it, but I’d rather you call from mine. Just to be safe, in case the line is tapped by someone other than Blake. No sense in making it easy on them to get your address.”

A few minutes later, Julie was wearing Luke’s shirt, standing in his kitchen waiting on the coffee she’d made to finish brewing, and feeling a little shy about the night before. Shy. Her. Go figure. Lauren would never believe it.
She
could hardly believe it. She was falling for Luke in a big way. Heck, who was she kidding? She’d fallen big years ago and she was just falling deeper now.
 

“Hope you made enough for me,” he said from behind her.
 

She glanced over her shoulder, and found herself breathless at the sight he made, standing there holding her purse. She turned to inspect him, taking in the jeans and a t-shirt he’d haphazardly pulled on, looking as delicious as he did in a suit or tuxedo. With his dark hair rumpled from sleep and her fingers and sporting a seriously sexy one day shadow on his jaw, he definitely gave new meaning to good morning.

“Your purse is supposed to match the outfit,” she teased.
 

“I’ve never been much on matching outfits,” he said, setting it down on the table top and then sitting down.
 

She filled two mugs and grabbed spoons before joining him. The cream and sugar were already on the table. “Since you got my purse for me, I made enough for you, too.”
 

“Well then,” he said, doctoring his coffee with lots of cream. “I’ll have to find a new strategy tomorrow, I guess.”

“Who says I’ll be here tomorrow?” she challenged, warmed by the idea that she would be.
 

“Danger’s in the air,” he said. “And even if it weren’t true, and it is, I’d use whatever excuse I had to in order to keep you here.”

“I think…I’d let you.”

A slow smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Good to know.” He motioned to the other room. “Let’s go to my office. I want you to call from my land line and I’ll have the cordless. Say as little as possible and agree to nothing I don’t give a nod of approval to.”

“Okay,” she said, and rose.
 

Luke’s office was lined with framed Sports Illustrated magazine covers that spanned years. He was clearly a collector. But then, he loved sports, especially baseball. She sat down behind his desk, letting the plush leather chair soothe the stiffness in her body.

“Her name is Diana,” Luke said, resting a hip on the desk. “And according to the official reports, there’s been no dispute of the suicide and there is no criminal investigation.”

She nodded and took the phone, feeling as nervous as the day she’d taken the bar exam.
 

“Don’t agree to anything unless I give you a nod,” he reminded her.
 

She nodded. ”What’s the number?”

He arched a brow. “No argument?”

“Part of doing my job well is being smart enough to call on experts when I need to, and actually listen when they talk. In this case, you’re my expert.”
 

Surprise flickered on his face before he read off the number from memory and then put the receiver in his hand to his ear.