Jump The Line (Toein' The Line Book 1) (40 page)

His kisses again turn urgent.  His lips against my hair, his hands caressing the skin beneath my hoodie, he whispers
,“
Alaina
?
” 

“
Mmm
?
”

“
I need to say this.  But I do
n’
t want you taking it the wrong way this time
.
” 

“
What
?
”

“
I want to taste you all over
.
”

“
Ha-ha
!
”
 
Now
i
t’
s funny. 

When he lifts me up off my feet and pulls me tight against him, I entwine my fingers around the back of his neck and pull his face to mine.  Sucking his tongue into my mouth, I take long greedy kisses, and listen as he murmurs the words some guys use to lock down the hookup. 

“
I want you
,”
he says, need clawing its way out with a husky moan. 

Me, to
o—
I want you now.
   

“
God, Alaina, yo
u’
re so beautiful
.
” 

“
Not as beautiful as you
,”
I say, sucking the skin on his face and exploring with my teeth and tongue.

Our whispered words feel different.  Good.  Intimate.  Not like the usual junk talk people use when the
y’
re hooki
n
’ up.  He pulls my hoodie off over my head, his groin shoving into me, insisting.
 “I’
ve never seen breasts like yours.  The
y’
re so artistically lovely, s
o
—”

“
Shut up.  I believe you
,”
I whisper against his mouth, but then stop so he can use his lips to show me how beautiful he thinks my breasts are. 

Bam!  Blue spot lights of pleasure burst inside my head, like Radio City Music Hal
l’
s lights, only brighter
. 
I feel the rhythm of Liz Holli
s
’
bon chiki bon
throbbing deep inside my core.  The rhythm picks up, its intensity increasing triple-time. 

—
Yes!  At long damn last,
I’
m doing the samba with a man who fucking knows how. 

Aida
n’
s covering my lips with his, his tongue seeking mine, deeper.  Deeper.  This is
n’
t kissing. . . .  I
t’
s . . . breathing together, sucking the breath from each othe
r’
s lungs, the fire from each othe
r’
s soul.  Maybe h
e’
s trying to suck my soul out of me, but do I care?

“
Ready
?”
he asks, pulling my naked legs tighter around his waist. 

This is it, I think, envisioning Aidan making love to me, my legs tangling with his as I try to keep kissing him.
 “
Fuck me
,”
I beg.
 “
Here.  Now.  I ca
n’
t wait
.
”

Chapter 35

“
Baby, wha
t’
s the rush
?”
Aidan asks.
 “
Le
t’
s make it last
.
”

We sink to the carpet.  I grab his windbreaker.
 “
Take it off
.
”

He tosses it on the floor and unstraps his shoulder holster, lays it carefully aside.

I like the leathe
r’
s wicked whisper, the sound of the holster coming off.

I rip off his shirt. 
Is it Christmas?
  I
t’
s wicked to even
think
the thoughts racing through my mind, my gaze raking across his chest, the muscles begging to be licked, kissed, bitten.  I scan both his shoulders. 
Hmm.  Hmm.  Hmm.
  I was wrong.  Ther
e’
s n
o“
Mo
m”
tattooed on those arms, steely hard and ripped, but on his right shoulder, ther
e’
s a fine looking tatt: crossed swords wit
h“
Kin
g’
s Roa
d”
in blue and gold letters above them.  Looks like some kind of coat-of-arms.

“
Wow
,”
I say.
 “
Big gun
.
” 

“
Funny
,”
he says.

What?  He does
n’
t like gun jokes?  I reach reflexively to touch the gun holstered on his hip.
 “
I was referring to this one
.
”

“
This gu
n—
instea
d—
okay
?
”
 
He presses my hand against him, diverting my attention from the gun on his hip to the bad boy in my hands.  

“
This
is
a lot of hardware
.
”

“
You gotta know your hogs
,”
he says
,“
to get the right one
.
” 

This time we both laugh.

Maybe i
t’
s the intense chemical attraction, or maybe my excitemen
t’
s overheated because of the effect of the guns and leather.  Maybe i
t’
s knowing Aidan is
n’
t like my high school and college experiments, or maybe i
t’
s knowin
g—
as
I’
m discoverin
g—
h
e’
s all man.  Whatever is causing me to feel this excited, I want. 
I’
ve never experienced anything like it, not with my high school boy-o or with my pre-law, one-minute wonder boy. 
I’
m on fire, every nerve ending in my body strung taut with desire and begging. 

After he takes off the hip holster, I remain kneeling, watching Aidan remove his slacks.  Seeing him, minus every stitch of clothing except for black socks and a holster strapped to his cal
f—
holy shit
!—
is another exquisite shock. 

“
Damn, another gun
,”
I say, admiring.  This makes three. 

“
Holy mother o
f
—” 

I whisper, my throat hoarse as I take greedy inventory of his nude body. 

Kneeling, he scoots back against the wall and folds his long legs.  I
t’
s a lewd pose, actually, but
I
ca
n’
t wait any longer, and he knows it.  W
e’
ll never make it to my bed.

“
Are
n’
t you taking that off
?
”
 
I gaze at the black leather calf holster.
 “
I do
n’
t want it to go off while w
e’
r
e
—”

“
The only thing going off at some point
,”
he says, pulling me to hi
m
—
“
is m
e
”
—
licking my face and kissing m
e
—
“
and you
.
” 

“
But yo
u’
re off duty
,”
I say, thrilling like a prep school virgin at his bad-boy naughty talk.  If Berta only kne
w—
LEOs do it fully cocked. 

Forget her.
  I shake her from my brain. 

Never mind my concern over rolling around on the floor with a piece of lethal hardware strapped to Aida
n’
s calf.  I want him completely naked. 

“
Take it off
.
”

“
The gun stays on
,”
he says
,“
even when
I’
m off duty
.
”

“
Got it
,”
I say, giving in. 
I’
m not as experienced as Aidan, but I know which gun to handle, which to ignore.  Nibbling his thighs as I crawl toward him, his hands tangled in my hair and Aidan moaning, I bypass the calf holster, and head like a sex-starved virgin straight for the big gun.

“
Later
,”
he says, cupping my chin and lifting my face for more greedy kisses.
 “
Right now, I need to feel yo
u
—”

He sucks kisses from my lips like a man dying of thirst, pulls me into his lap with such ease I feel light as a rag doll when I straddle him. 

Ther
e’
s time for wha
t’
s got to happen, what
must
happen, or
I’
m going to explode, but for an arrested heartbeat I feel cheated.  Aidan and I are going to learn about each other in a way w
e’
ve never before known, but all I want is for these next few moments to last.

All I want is for time to stop.

And it does.

* * *

Hours later,
I’
m wanting the same thing, wanting time to sto
p
— 

—
righ
t
—

—
abou
t
—

“
Now
!”
I scream. 

The explosion, one of man
y—I’
ve lost trac
k—
burns like a blue quasar against my retinas, and those little blue lights
I’
ve been seeing plaster themselves against my skull like firecrackers on Fourth of July, their sparkles dropping like liquid fire into the pleasure center inside my brain. 

“
Aidan, I need a drink of water
.
”

“
No
,”
he says
,“
you need this
.
”

Riding the wave of pleasure, I whisper his name over and over, for several seconds letting my body and soul shudder into erotic freefall. 

“
Indeed
,”
I agree.
 “
I do
.
”

I lean at last into his shoulder and taste our salty mingled sweat. 

“
How was that
?
”

The question makes me smile. 
Is there no guy alive who does
n’
t ask this after sex?

“
That wa
s
”
—
I kiss hi
m
—
“
perfect
.
”

I kiss his bare shoulder, then his tatt, the mysteriou
s“
Kin
g’
s Roa
d”
coat-of-arms.  The sweat and salty tang, the masculine
feel
of his skin, bumps me right back into action.

“
Mor
e”
he asks, grinning.
 “
Bad girl
,”
he says, when I nod
,“
Yes
.
”

“
I
t’
s my turn
,”
he says, tenderly biting my lip. 

“
No, I ca
n’
t
,”
I tease, but
I’
ve never meant yes more in my whole life.

“C’
mon, Baby.  One more tim
e—
for me
?
”

“
No, not one.  Ten more
,”
I say
,“
like the last
.
”

“
Do
n’
t get greedy
,”
he says, his lips warming mine with kisses. 

“
Do
n’
t make me beg
,”
I murmur, kissing him with an old love
r’
s sweet familiarity.