Hold on to Me (20 page)

Maybe he’d given her physical control, maybe he couldn’t touch her, but he could damn well talk to her.

“I’ve missed you, Cait,” he murmured and she faltered slightly in her easy rhythm. He shifted his hips under hers, altering the angle of his thrusts. “I dreamed about you, about this, the whole time I was gone.”

Her lashes fluttered, desperate hunger sharpening her face. “Don’t.”

“Why?” The seductive drag and lift tried to steal his breath once more and his voice came out a hoarse rasp. “You don’t want to hear that I’d wake up hard and shaking, like I could feel you around me? That I wanted your breasts in my hands, my mouth—”

“Calvert, stop.” She moved faster, their bodies sliding together in a maelstrom of soft wet sounds and softer moans. “Please.”

“No. Tell me you didn’t think about it, that every time it rained, I wasn’t in your head.” He lunged harder against her, a broken whimper that dripped with arousal escaping her parted lips. “Because you were in mine, constantly. Hell, even when I took a shower and all I could think about was taking you against the wall in that hotel room, how damn tight you were, how hot and wet you were for me—”

“Stop.”

“Do you remember, baby? We were both soaked from the rain and I followed the drops on your skin with my tongue. I couldn’t get enough of you, your feel, your taste.”

“You tore my blouse.” The accusation emerged on another of those sexy, shaken moans. “Ruined it and all I wanted was you, hard and inside me…”

Hell yeah, she remembered. Her body tightened on his, a flush spreading up her belly, over breasts and tightly budded nipples, suffusing her neck and face. Fighting back a climax, he watched the orgasm wash over her, a slight frown drawing elegant brows together, his name slipping from her lips.

The wet clench of her muscles around him sent desire punching into his gut. Fingernails digging into the wood table leg, he exploded, pushing deeper, higher. Lights and shadows danced at the edges of his vision, his heart thudding as it tried to escape his chest.

She collapsed, slumping against his chest, face pressed to his throat. “Oh, God, Calvert.”

He wanted to hold on to her, to wrap his arms around her. Growling, he tugged at the cuffs. “Take ’em off
now
, Falconetti.”

Pushing her hair back, she lifted her head and pulled her bag close, rummaging without looking and coming up with a small key ring. She stretched forward, and the first cuff gave. Arm burning as circulation returned, he wrapped it around her waist. The second cuff sprang free, and he tangled his hand in her hair. The metal bracelets clattered to the floor, and Caitlin rested against his chest again.

Tick stretched protesting muscles. She’d been right—no way would he regret this night when morning came. He nuzzled her shoulder, inhaling the unique perfume of her bare skin. Pure Caitlin, but bearing the imprint of his scent.

This was what his life could be. She’d refused to make him any promises, but surely she had to see what they could have. And surely her being with him like this meant something. One step closer to regaining the Caitlin he’d lost.

He trailed a finger down her spine. Already, she was under his skin. One little push and he’d be over his head in love with her. The kind of love where he’d do anything for her, even if that meant leaving his department and the idealism of what he was doing to return to the bureau so they could be together.

He kissed the curve of her neck and she shifted with a murmuring sigh. The sound shot through him, sending a hot flood of emotion along his body. He tightened his hand on her waist and slid it up her side, fingers cupping the side of her breast.

“Down, boy.” She moved, patting her palm against his chest. “Time for a nap.”

Laughing, he brushed her ear with his nose and kissed behind it, finding the spot he knew made her moan in pleasure. “Boy? How big do they grow the men where you come from, Falconetti?”

“I’m from Texas, remember?” She dragged out her drawl. “Everything’s bigger there. It takes a lot to impress a Texas girl.”

“Yeah?” He nibbled at her throat, his body still joined to hers in an intimate embrace. The hot, wet feel of her wrung a groan from him. Damn, he could stay like this with her forever, even with his back protesting the unyielding hardwood floor. He’d be sore as all get-out tomorrow, but hell if he cared right now.

“Yes.” Her hands tangled in his hair, she pushed against him. “But I’m most impressed, sweet thing.”

He chuckled, holding her close, and she wrapped her arms around him, giggling into his throat. With a satisfied grunt, he rubbed both hands down her back. “A nap, huh?”

“Mmm.” She kissed his collarbone. “And an encore later.”

Caitlin jerked into awareness, senses on full alert. A delicious ache pulsed between her thighs. Darkness surrounded her; weight and warmth lay next to her. A distinct male scent sank into her consciousness and she relaxed. Tick. She was in Tick’s bed and he slept beside her, a soft intermittent snore tickling her ears. She could stay here forever.

But somewhere, beyond the dimness of the bedroom, her phone beeped. She disentangled from Tick’s easy hold and slid from the bed. He turned his face into the pillow, murmuring in his sleep.

She picked up his polo and tugged it over her head before padding into the living room. A light from the kitchen illuminated the area and she retrieved her cell phone. The display indicated voice mail waiting, despite a weak signal. She listened to Gina’s single message and Vince’s six.

Letting the phone redial, she slipped out the back door. Frogs croaked above humming crickets in the moist night air, and she settled into the rocker near the door.

“Geez, Cait, do you know what time it is?” Gina said after the fourth ring. The cellular connection hissed, Gina’s voice fading in and out.

Caitlin tucked her feet beneath her. “Actually, I don’t.”

“It’s almost three in the morning. Where have you been?” A suspicion-filled pause hung on the line. “Is Calvert’s nose bleeding?”

If it weren’t, it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Her body quivered with remembered sensations of having him inside her. “Something like that.”

“Good for you.” Gina’s words ended on a yawn. “It’s about time you loosened up a little. You need something more than the job in your life.”

“It’s just sex, Bocaccio.” She’d made sure of that. This time, she hadn’t let the emotional connection take place. She’d held complete control.

Or rather, she’d tried to, until he’d started talking and had wrapped that gorgeous voice and the decadently sensual memories around her.

Silence hovered on the hissing line. “Did you tell him?”

A tiny green frog hopped across the floor, tapped her toe and turned the other way. Moonlight washed the pine trees lining the river with silver. She swallowed. “No.”

“And you’re putting up the don’t-touch-me walls, aren’t you?”

Caitlin laughed, the small, brittle sound hurting her already tight throat. “I have no clue what you mean.”

“Come on, Cait, this is me. You can be honest now. You’re scared to death someone’s going to get close enough to see the real you because you think once they see the reality, they won’t want you anymore. I could lay odds that’s what you’re doing with Calvert, too. The sex is a diversion to keep him from getting too close.”

Tears burned her eyes. “I’m the one with a psych degree, remember? You’re the computer expert. Stick to analyzing cache records and virus codes, would you?”

Another silence fell between them. “You’re falling for him all over again, aren’t you?”

Damn Gina for never taking a hint, never beating around the bush. “Yes.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” Hesitancy hovered in Gina’s voice. “You said yourself he’s all about truth, justice and the American way. Those kinds of men don’t like secrets.”

“I know.” She pressed her fingers against her closed eyelids. “Believe me, I know.”

Caitlin couldn’t be sure if Gina sighed or if the sound was merely another hiss on the line. “Cait, tell him. He obviously wants you, too. Waiting is only going to make things worse.”

She shuddered. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Think about it, okay?”

She didn’t need to. Eyes closed, she pushed her tangled hair away from her face. The smell of him lingered on her skin and invaded her nostrils with the movement. He’d permeated every pore on her body. “I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I’m going to email you a department roster. I need background checks on each officer, and I also want you to see if there are open homicides or missing person cases anywhere they’ve lived or worked before.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you? Is Calvert on this roster?”

“He is.”

“Want me to run him, too?”

Guilt pricked at her, but she smothered it. They wouldn’t want any questions later. If the killer turned out to be one of Tick’s colleagues, a good defense attorney would have a field day with her not having his background rechecked. “Yes. Run him, too.”

“Whatever you say. And Cait? Take care.”

“You, too.”

Killing the connection, she tapped the phone against her lips, staring into the darkness beyond the bluish mercury light. What she should do, right now, was dress and go back to her hotel before this insanity went any farther.

What she was going to do was crawl back into Tick’s bed and get as close to him as possible.

The phone buzzed in her hand and emitted a loud chirping, and she startled. With a soft curse, she checked the screen. She flipped it open once more, lifted it to her ear and waited.

“Where in hell are you?” Annoyance bordering on anger simmered in Vince’s voice.

She pushed a foot against the floor and set the chair rocking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I asked you a question.”

“I’m in Georgia, working a case.”

“Caitlin.” He was obviously grinding his teeth and she smiled. He made getting under his skin too easy. “I know that. I also know you’re not in your hotel room because I’ve called you more times than I care to count. I know you’re not at that piss-ant one-pony sheriff’s department because I’ve talked to the most insubordinate fucker I’ve ever encountered there twice already. Now, where the fuck are you?”

“Does Troupe know you talk like that?”

“Is there a reason you’re making this difficult?”

“Is there a reason you’re checking up on me?”

“Yes. It involves still having nightmares about finding you in a pool of blood, fighting off a psychopathic son of a bitch.” A raw hint of pain invaded his tone. “Not to mention the fact I know who the hell you’re working with and as smart as you are, you make the most asinine personal decisions I’ve ever seen.”

Any sisterly affection engendered by his concern evaporated. “Go screw yourself, Vince.”

“Does Troupe know you talk like that?”

Silence hummed over the line and she stared at the dark silhouettes of the pine trees flanking the river.

He sighed. “Cait.”

She pushed her foot a little harder against the floor. A couple of fireflies flickered through the yard.

“Come on.” Honest apology lurked in the plea. “I worry. I don’t want to see you hurt. I can’t find anything negative on this Calvert guy except a letter in his file for being mildly insubordinate to a training officer when he was a rookie cop but—”

“What did you do?” God, he was unbelievable.

“I had Tony work up a dossier on him when I found out where you were.” He seemed unaware of her seething. “What do you want to know?”

And she made the stupidest personal decisions? Holy…

It wasn’t like he was going to change. “You can’t go investigating everyone I meet. And I’m offended that you’d check Tick out. He would be, too.”

“I’m the one who let Fuller into our lives,” he said, residual fury and frustration in his words. “I did that. If I’d looked further, convinced Troupe to have new staff undergo psych evaluations, maybe we wouldn’t have hired him and
maybe
—”

“Things would be different. I know.” Melancholy drifted through her. Beyond the porch, a dove called and a twig snapped sharply in the distance. She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Stop worrying.”

“Why don’t I just stop breathing? Same thing, Angel Face.”

“It’s not your fault, Vinnie. It’s Fuller’s.” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “There wasn’t anything you could do.”

Hadn’t Tick said the same thing to her the night before? He didn’t place the blame with her, anymore than she did with Vince.

No, the responsibility lay solely with Fuller. A weight of darkness lifted from her.

“Right.” Her brother sounded less than convinced. “Just do me a favor, would you, Cait?”

“What?” Visions of convents and vows of chastity danced in her head.

“Be careful.” His voice roughened. “And keep in touch.”

“I will.” She blew him a kiss into the phone. “Goodnight, Vinnie.”

“Night, Angel Face.”

She flipped the phone closed and laid it on the small table beside the chair. An unaccustomed peace wrapped around her, highlighted by the soft chorus of frogs and crickets.

Floorboards creaked under quiet footsteps. Tick’s silhouette appeared at the kitchen door. “What are you doing out here?”

“I had to return a call and didn’t want to bother you.” Warmth and hope pulsed through her. Pushing out of the chair, she walked to stand before him. He settled his hands on her hips, sliding beneath the cotton polo shirt.

“Something wrong?” His mouth caressed her temple and she blinked away a wash of tears.

“Just checking in with Gina.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him. “And Vince.”

“Is he looking for me with a shotgun?”

“No.” Inhaling deeply, she turned her face into his throat. In his embrace, everything had to be all right. “He’s just worried.”

And guilt-ridden over something that wasn’t his fault.

“I can understand that.” Tick nuzzled below her ear, his hold tightening. “A guy has to look out for his sister.”

“Hmmm.” His mouth was doing wicked things to her senses, and there was something rich and sweet about being here in his arms in the dark. This was her moment. “Tick, I need to—”

“You feel so good, precious. I love what you do to me.” He pulled her into him, his arousal a hard ridge against her stomach, even through his jeans. “I want you again.”

“Um, me too, but…” The words trailed away under the playful temptation of his marauding hands. With a soft laugh, she tilted her head back and tried to read the expression in his glittering eyes. “You’re insatiable.”

“Only for you.” He tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her head at an angle, and lowered his own. The kiss was wild, a mingling of passion and desperation. She opened her mouth, tongue stroking his, possessing him. Moving her arms to his neck, she held him tighter. She burned, her skin hot wherever he touched. Desire pooled in her stomach, and between her legs, she pulsed with each caress. He was hard, hot, heavy, and she pushed against him, aching, wanting, needing.

He lifted his head and brushed his nose against the curve of her ear, his breath a warm rush against her neck. “This time I get to be in charge.” Excitement shivered through her. Nipping at her throat, he chuckled and backed her deeper onto the porch. “Maybe I’d better make sure you’re not carrying those cuffs.”

She stroked down to his waist, loving the warmth and texture of his skin. “Now just where would I hide them, Calvert?”

The porch railing bumped against her back and legs. Enough light from the mercury lamp and the sliver of moon illuminated his face, revealing the devilish glint in his dark eyes. His hands slid down her arms to her wrists, fingers a strong, sure grasp there. “You know as well as I do that a thorough search is key to any arrest, Agent Falconetti.”

Tick Calvert searching her. Oh, God. Images flashed in her head, and heavy yearning shot through her, a low, harsh rhythm. She laughed, the sound shaky and too husky. “An arrest? What charge?”

“You held me prisoner in my own living room.” He tugged at her wrists, spreading her arms wider on the railing. “Sounds like kidnapping to me.”

His teeth rasped against her neck again and she let her head fall back, offering him greater access. “It’s not kidnapping if you were a willing participant.”

“Details. We’ll work ’em out later.” He gazed down, fingers tightening on her. “Assume the position, Falconetti.”

Her breath strangled in her throat, lungs ceasing to work. Beneath the soft fabric of his shirt, her nipples beaded, and burning excitement leapt higher in her abdomen. He stepped backward, pulling her forward just enough to turn her and wrap her fingers around the porch railing once more.

He nudged his knee between her thighs, denim rough on her skin. With his foot, he widened her stance. She swallowed, her mouth unbearably dry.

“This isn’t textbook technique,” she said, injecting sophisticated mockery into her tone. Her voice shook, completely ruining the effect. “Two moves and I’d have you down and incapacitated.”

He brushed her hair aside, mouth against her nape. His hips pressed into hers. “You really want me incapacitated?”

Shifting away, he ran his hands along her waist, under the shirt. “This is in the way.” Grasping the hem, he tugged the garment upward, over her head, and tossed it aside. Cool night air kissed her skin and he slid his hands to her wrists once more, fastening her hold on the railing.

He moved over her in a slow facsimile of the classic search—from her waist to her head, fingers sifting through her hair, caressing her neck and shoulders, sliding over her arms. Traveling down her chest, they cupped her breasts, hefting, molding, teasing until she moaned. His rough laugh tickled her ears again, and he dropped his hands, spanning her waist, stroking along her hips and thighs, sweeping to her calves and ankles and up the inside of her trembling legs.