Sex & Sensibility (14 page)

“Oh, nowhere.” She batted innocent eyes. “I was just exploring.”

“I bet you were. Find anything interesting?”

“Mmm. Very.”

“Are you going to keep going?”

A thrill of anticipation tiptoed through her at the admission. Some part of her really thought he’d stop her, or at least find some reason to get up and leave. But he seemed to be as eager to have her as she was to have him. She could work with that.

“Absolutely,” she promised.

“In that case, I have a question,” he said.

Tessa made herself comfortable on his chest, and stroked his ankles with her bare toes. “Mmm?”

“Are you on birth control? Because the condoms in my truck are a year old.”

“Guess it’s time to replace them.” She smiled into his eyes. “Go on. Be an optimist. If you buy new condoms, sex will come.”

“But meantime?”

She explored the tender skin below his ear with her tongue. “Yes. I’m on birth control.” To straighten out some irregular periods, but no way was she going to bring boring clinical details in at the moment. “What about you? Should I get out my predate contract with the check boxes and doctor’s signature?” She nipped his earlobe.

His chest shook as he chuckled. “No need. I’m clean. And it’s been so long for me I think they reissued my virgin card.”

“Ooh. I’ve always wanted to make love with a virgin.”

“Then this is your lucky day.”

G
RIFFIN ROLLED
T
ESSA
onto her back and stripped off his shirt and her pajama bottoms, then took a moment to drink her in. He wasn’t going to ask about who her partners were. In the long term, it didn’t matter. If she was single and on birth control, she could sleep with whomever she wanted to and it was none of his business.

His business right now was pleasure—hers and his.

He lowered his head and began to drop kisses along her collarbone, ending at that enchanting dip at the base of her throat that begged for a kiss.

This was not forever. Both of them knew it. But with any luck, making love with her would release the pressure cooker of desire that had built between them whether he wanted it to or not. Maybe, once they had possessed each other, he could get a grip again and concentrate on his job without being distracted every time she bent over or her skirt brushed his legs as she passed.

Her body called to him now, demanding that he stop thinking for once and just lose himself in it. She stroked his shoulders and arms, her touch featherlight and teasing, while he licked and nuzzled his way down her chest and over each beautiful breast. He loved the shape of her, the smooth lower curves as full as ripe fruit, the berry pucker of her nipples as they tightened under his lips. The skin was
unbelievably soft on her stomach, with the strength of toned muscles underneath, and dipped inward on an indrawn breath as he reached her navel and prepared to move lower.

“No fair,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t let me taste you. I still owe you one.”

Something had stopped him, as if her taking him in her mouth would be too intimate or leave him too helpless in her hands. He couldn’t analyze his reasons right now, not with the siren call of need in his blood and the sweet taste of her on his tongue.

“All’s fair,” he managed, and slid around to reposition himself between her legs.

“But I—no, wait—oh!”

He parted her thighs and tongued her vulva boldly. He wouldn’t have thought that his erection could get any stiffer, but the scent of the creamy liquid ready and waiting for him seemed to set off a chemical explosion inside him. At least he could guarantee she was comfortable. When he’d taken her this way on the log, it had been hard to block out the worry that she would slip off or they would be discovered or she would be too cold.

Now it was just him and her and the night.

Helpless whimpers issued from her throat as he tongued her sensitive folds, long strokes making her thighs quiver in response. At the apex he found her clitoris and settled on it, his tongue working in a rhythm that made her breathing speed up in counterpoint.

The scent of her filled his head the way the textures of her skin and the damp, secret places of her body created a kaleidoscope of pleasure for him. He loved this sense of discovery about all the places his tongue could go that pleased her.

“Oh—oh—Griffin. Don’t stop—don’t—yes—yes—”

She convulsed under his mouth and he gripped her thighs, milking the orgasm from her as she tried to stifle a scream in the pillow.

She was still gasping when he came up for air, his senses filled with the gift of her pleasure and the taste of completion.

“Take me now,” she begged, spreading her legs wide to grip him as he stretched over her. His erection was a fiery ache, an imperative it was impossible to deny.

It was equally impossible to deny Tessa’s need. She took him in both hands to guide him to her wet entrance, and wrapped her legs around his hips. She was tight, making him shiver with need as he probed her opening, a little farther each time. Then, with a long thrust he slid inside her and his mind went blank of everything except the slick pleasure of her body and the hot, demanding clasp that sheathed him.

“You feel so good,” he gasped.

The grip of her thighs encouraged him to plunge deeper, to stroke harder, and her hips lifted to meet his with every move.

The pleasure built deep inside him, starting at his spine, then advancing in a heavy wave, blasting through testicles and cock and crashing into a climax so intense he thought he would black out.

Her name sounded in his head, and filled his skull, riding the wave of satisfaction.

T
ESSA WOKE FEELING COLD
. With her eyes still shut, unwilling to come completely out of the cocoon of sleep, she slid one hand flat under the covers, fingers expecting to encounter the warmth of Griffin’s body.

Nothing. This bed must be really wide.

She opened her eyes as she rolled to the side, and saw nothing but a big empty space where he should have been. She sat up and looked around the cottage’s bedroom/living room combination. There was no sound but the boom of the breakers outside and the bass buzz of a pair of hummingbirds flying in circles around each other in a trumpet vine outside the window.

He’d gone home. He hadn’t wanted to wake up next to her.

Well, what did you expect?

The sparkle kind of went out of the day after that. Tessa pulled on a denim mini and a pale-purple T-shirt advertising the San Francisco Blues Festival from two years ago, and shoved her feet into her flip-flops. Then she crossed the patio to the main house to see just how far Griffin Knox had run.

To her surprise, he hadn’t climbed in his truck and blasted off for parts unknown. She heard voices coming from Jay’s office, and pushed open the door to see the two of them hovering over the desk, looking at a piece of paper with lines drawn on it.

“Good morning.” She helped herself to the carafe of coffee on the sideboard. One thing about the service here—whoever made the coffee really knew what they were doing. At least there was one thing she could count on to be where it was supposed to be in the morning.

“Tessa.” Jay greeted her with a nod and a smile.

A smile?

“Hey, kiddo,” Griffin said with gruff geniality.

Kiddo?

Just a few hours ago he had been making her clitoris delirious and now she was
kiddo?
What the hell was going on?

He’s running in place, her instinct told her. Just like a man. He’d spent most of a week craving her, and then once he had her, he was doing everything he could to distance himself from what they’d created together. Maybe he couldn’t deny what had happened, but he sure could prevent it happening again. And a really effective way to do that was to relegate her to the status of kid sister, right in front of a witness who was also employing both of them.

Oh, he was good. But then, according to Natalie, he’d had lots of practice at it.

You win this round, you big fraud. But unlike you, I know what the cards say. You want to connect with someone. You just don’t want yourself to want it.

It was clear her mission was to loosen up this guy. Get him comfortable with relating to women again. Convince the King of Swords he could put down the blade that warded everybody off, and enjoy life a little.

Little did he know that the Queen of Wands was more than a match for him.

“Good morning.” She mimicked his genial tone so well he probably didn’t know she was being sarcastic. “What’s up?”

“Griffin tells me you saw Christina again last night, and got some details of where they are,” Jay said. “Good work.”

“I drew a layout.” Griffin pushed the piece of paper toward her. “Does this look anything like what you remember?”

The warm scent of the coffee soothed her as she joined them, sipping from the mug. On the paper he had drawn the outline of a room, with slash lines for doorways and the furniture sketched in.

His body temperature seemed to increase as she leaned over his shoulder, making her aware that he was freshly
showered and deliciously clean. The scent of his subtle cologne—a scent that fell somewhere between musk and wood shavings—teased her nose.

Yum.

Nice try at going all businesslike on me. I can still make your thermometer pop.

“There was a low square table here.” She pointed to the corner of the
L
made by couch and chair. With a couple of strokes, Griffin drew it in.

“And a potted plant—one of those dragon plants, you know, tall, with long pointed leaves—was here.” She pointed to the slashes labeled
kitchen
and Griffin scratched in something that looked like a lion’s mane that had been in the dryer too long. Okay, so he hadn’t been an art major.
Plant,
he wrote beside it.

“Anything else?” Jay asked.

“What’s this?”

Tessa looked up to see Mandy, dressed in a white sheath and ivory bangles, sipping her own coffee and craning over the desk.

“Tessa saw Christina and Trey again last night, and we were able to get some details,” Griffin explained briefly. “They’re in a house, apparently, and this is the layout of the room.” He pointed. “Couch, chair, doors.” He glanced at Tessa. “Plant.”

Mandy frowned at the paper, and picked it up to study it. “Did you get anything more? Like colors or textures?” she asked Tessa.

“Not really. Except the floor is wood. Something pale, like maple, maybe, or washed pine. And the couch and chair are striped blue and white.”

“And there’s a dragon plant by the kitchen door and a big rubber plant in the corner.”

Tessa blinked at her. “It was at night, so the corners were dark, but I had an impression of something big. It could have been a rubber plant.”

“How the hell do you know about the plants?” Jay demanded.

Mandy rolled her eyes. “Because I put them there, silly. Honestly, Jay, where is your head? This drawing—” she waved the paper at him “—is my living room. They’re at my beach house in Santa Rita.”

J
AY SLAPPED HIS FOREHEAD
while Griffin gaped at Mandy. In Santa Rita? “That’s impossible,” he said.

“What is?” Mandy asked. “That they’re there, or that we didn’t think of it before now?”

Griffin turned to Jay. He felt sick. How could he have been such an idiot? “You better just fire me now. I don’t know how I overlooked the beach house. It should have been the first place I checked.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Tessa said, and laid a hand on his arm. “I saw the motel sign, remember? All this time we’ve been thinking they’re on the road. And don’t forget, Michelle, the salon owner, said they’d taken off.”

The light touch of her fingers burned his bare skin. He stepped away under the pretext of pacing the office. If he was moving, she couldn’t pin him down and make him feel what he had felt yesterday—both times. He wouldn’t be tempted to touch those bare legs or run his hands over the worn cotton of her concert T-shirt.

Under which, he noted with some disappointment, she was wearing a bra.

How was it possible to want her again and yet urgently need to escape all that soft, sensual warmth?

“I’m sure they did,” Mandy put in. “How do these vi
sions or dreams or whatever work? Are they in real time or is there some kind of delay and they get replayed in your head, like TiVo?”

“Both. Either.” Tessa blew a long breath up through her bangs. “If I touch something that belongs to a person, it seems to connect me with them. Or if I’m in a place that meant a lot to them, like down on the beach, the residual emotion seems to affect me.”

“So what did you touch that connected you with Tessa?” Mandy looked intrigued, like a scientist who has discovered a new kind of animal behavior.

Griffin knew she was sharp. Obviously she was a lot sharper than he was. Here he’d drawn the floor plan, wondering the whole time how this was going to narrow the field of possibilities, while completely missing the fact that it was a room in a house in which he’d set up the alarm system himself.

Clearly he was not going to get his Boy Scout badge for observation. This is what happened when you let a woman distract you. It melted the brain cells you needed to do your job.

Tessa shrugged. “It could have been anything in the cottage. It could have been that photo on the wall in the hallway.”

Mandy fell silent, thinking. “What were you wearing at the time?”

“Wearing?”

“Yeah. Clothes.”

Griffin looked from one to the other. What the hell difference did that make?

“Um, my flowered cotton pj’s,” Tessa said slowly. “And a sweater I picked up at the thrift shop for five bucks. It’s my favorite. Blue cashmere.”

“What?” Mandy leaned over. “Blue cashmere?”

“Uh-huh. Talk about a deal. It’s cut like a sweatshirt but it’s totally luxurious. A person would have to be crazy or desperate to give it away.”

“Oh, my God.” Mandy sat on the desk a little too heavily, and the lamp teetered and settled back onto its base. “Can you do me a favor and go and get it?”

Tessa shrugged again. “Sure. Be right back.”

Griffin eyed his boss’s wife. She looked a little pale, and her gaze was unfocused, as if she were looking deep into her memory and trying to bring something out. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I think—no, I won’t know for sure until I see it.”

“What’s the big deal about a stupid sweater?” Jay demanded crossly. “Why aren’t we getting in a truck and going to Santa Rita? Have you guys completely lost your focus? Griffin? I’m not paying you to watch a fashion show, here.”

“Jay, shut up,” his wife told him, only half her attention on him. The other half was locked on the door, behind which they heard Tessa’s flip-flops slapping on the Mexican tiles. In a moment she came in holding the blue sweater.

Jay shut up.

Griffin closed his eyes to block out the memory of Tessa’s body wrapped in the soft, sensual fabric.

When Mandy said, “My God. I knew it,” he opened them.

“Knew what? What’s the deal with the sweater?” he asked.

Mandy took it from Tessa and held it up. “This is Christina’s. It’s a Stella McCartney. One of a kind. She donat
ed it to a charity event I did this past spring.” She took a breath. “Tessa, think. What happens when you put this sweater on?”

“You’re right,” Tessa breathed, looking into Mandy’s eyes as if they were having a conversation above and beyond words.