Tempted by Fate (21 page)

But he didn’t believe. Or he didn’t want to believe. Whatever the case, he wasn’t going to let her lie to him again. Running his fingers through her soft tresses, he felt her body relax against his touch. Easing her head back, he saw something flare in her piercing gray eyes.

Desire.

He placed his free hand around her neck, so his thumb feathered over her pulse. It beat fast, and he realized
it was in response to his touch. Then, as if to verify it, her breath hitched and she shivered. She was so tall, he didn’t have far to lower his head, stopping right above her mouth. Her lips parted, and he felt a surge of satisfaction. “Both of us want more, and you know it.”

She put her hands on his waist. “The only thing I want—”

“You want me as badly as I want you. Admit it.” His hand in her hair kept her from shaking her head. He pressed his body to hers. “Admit it, Willow. You’re shaking for me.”

“I don’t need anyone.” She whispered it unconvincingly.

“You need me.” He lowered his lips to brush the side of her neck. “Your mind may disagree, but your body tells a different story.”

“I—”

Before she could say another word, he kissed her. No pretense of softness, no illusion of gentleness, just passion and desire mixed with frustration from the past few days.

Her grip tightened on his hips, and for a second, he thought she was going to push him away. But then her hands snaked around him, and she gave in. There was nothing submissive about her surrender. She yanked his shirt out of his pants and slipped her hands under, kneading his back with surprisingly strong fingers. Those fingers dipped into the waistband of his pants from behind, teasing. Then she skimmed around the front.

Lifting her, he kissed his way down her neck as he set her on the counter. “Not yet.”

“I thought this was what you wanted,” she said, reaching for his fly again.

He shook his head, loving it when she shivered from
the scratch of his five-o’clock shadow. Setting his teeth to the sensitive spot at the base of her neck, he trailed his hands up her bare thighs and under the sweatshirt. “This is what I want.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and dragged him closer. “I can’t believe I’m going to be the voice of reason here, but I feel like I need to reiterate that this isn’t a good idea.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say to hell with reason.” He pushed her sweatshirt up and then froze, staring into her eyes. “I don’t feel any underwear.”

The corner of her lips quirked. “That’s probably good, considering I’m not wearing any.”

He leaned back. The sweatshirt bunched around her waist. Below it was skin toasted by the sun, no tan lines. A tiny patch of hair pointed the way down to full, glistening lips. As if his dick weren’t hard enough, it surged painfully in his pants. He wanted to pull it out and sink into her. Badly. But he couldn’t—not yet. He feathered his thumb over the crease of her sex, rubbing the moisture across her skin. She gasped and widened her legs.

He didn’t need any more invitation than that, but he wasn’t ready to take it further. He watched her face as he ran his thumb over her. He loved the feel of her, plump and soft, belying her angularity and toughness.

She leaned back on her hands, her eyes half-lidded as she watched him. “For someone who wanted this so badly, you’re certainly taking your time.”

“This deserves to be savored.” He parted her just a little, opening her to his view.

Her eyes glazed over with passion. Her back arched, her chest heaving with her heavy breathing.

As he slipped a finger into her folds, his other hand traveled the length of his sweatshirt.

She tugged at her sleeve. “Take it off.”

“No. The window’s open.” His palm grazed over a hard nipple.

Crying out, Willow’s head dropped back and she thrust her hips forward. “Kinky, Starsky. I think you just like it this way.”

“What is it
you
like? This?” He drew his finger through her wetness, careful not to touch her clit.

Moaning, she squirmed, trying to direct his touch where she wanted it. And he knew where that was. He glanced down. Her clit rose swollen at the top of her sex, begging for attention, and so tempting. He knew it would swell under his tongue. He wanted to lick it, to suck on it until she screamed for him, until her strong, tanned legs gripped him like she never wanted him to stop.

Not yet,
he commanded himself, breathing heavily. He abraded the tip of her breast again. “Or do you like this?”

She moaned and opened her eyes to glare at him. “Get on with it already.”

He shook his head. Her nipples stabbed through the thick fabric. He rubbed one tip between his fingers and leaned down to bite the other one through the sweatshirt. Her exclamation was sweet and sharp. Needing to hear it again, he relented and let his thumb brush over her clit.

Her legs fell open wide and she arched up. She cried out, over and over, her head thrown back and her body trembling in her release.

He watched her face, admiring her beauty. He kept stroking softly over her until her hips stopped undulating
and she wilted on the countertop, her back resting against the window behind her. She half opened her eyes as she tried to catch her breath.

Not enough. He bent his head between her legs and kissed her. Because he wanted to know her taste, he ran his tongue through her folds and up to the hardened little spot.

“In case you missed it, I finished already,” she said, moaning again.

But the way she propped her feet on the counter told him she wanted more, so he lapped at her. Soft and slow at first, he let her build again. It wasn’t long before she was writhing on the counter, panting.

“Yes.” Her fingers speared through his hair, holding him close. “Again.”

He licked her softly, pinching her nipple. “I’m in charge here.”

“Do I need to point out that you’re the one kneeling in front of me?”

“But you’re the one who’s going to beg.” He dragged his teeth over her.

Her hips jerked and she gripped his head tighter. “In your dreams, Starsky.”

Ignoring her false bravado, he took her in his mouth and sucked. The little noises she made told him she was close. He sucked harder, using his tongue to flick at her.

“Oh, Rick.” She pulled his hair to the point of pain as her hips lifted off the counter, trying to get closer to him.

Abandoning her nipples, he took hold of her ass, pulling her closer to him. She must have liked the angle, because she skyrocketed again, harder than the first
time. Something jolted him, like the ricochet of a branch snapping back. Startled, he lifted his head. Before he could question it, she brought his mouth to hers, kissing him deeply. She mewled in pleasure, wrapping her legs around his waist. Hell, he probably imagined it.

He hissed into her mouth when his dick pressed against her, then almost came when she reached down between them and rubbed him through his pants. Pulling away, he put his hand over hers to stop her.

She licked her lips, moist and red and swollen from his kisses. “What? Don’t you like?”

“I like it too much,” he said in a gravelly tone, barely recognizing his own voice.

She smiled with wicked sweetness as she unzipped his fly with her other hand. “That can’t be so bad, then.”

It was, when he was seconds from coming in his pants. He stepped back and tried to pry her hands off his crotch.

Willow reached inside his waistband.

They both froze as soon as their skin touched. They looked up at the same time and stared at each other.

Willow moved her hand up and down his length. “Rather impressive, Inspector.”

He swallowed, closing his eyes. Her slow strokes became sure and fast as she rubbed over him. He couldn’t help surging into her hand with a helpless growl.

She used his cock to draw him close, closing him in her fist. “Who’s going to beg now?”

He wrapped his hand around hers to stop her arousing movement. “This isn’t how it’s going to play out.”

“It seems like I hold the power at the moment.” She smiled knowingly. “But I’m willing to let you help.”

She began to work him again. Despite his efforts, he found himself helping, their hands moving in unison. She felt so good, the pleasure running through his body. His toes even tingled with each pull of her capable hand.

“Wet,” she said as she circled around the crown. She squeezed again, as if milking him, before spreading the wetness all the way down to his balls. “And here I was thinking of licking it.”

He knew what she was doing—he knew she said it on purpose. But he couldn’t stop from picturing her tongue lapping at him, her mouth taking him as deeply as she could. He groaned, his weight pressing against the countertop, trying to hold it together. It was useless, especially when her other hand cupped his balls and began to massage them.

He thrust forward, his hand tightening around hers. She tugged him toward her, and he could feel her breath on his neck a moment before he felt her teeth scrape his skin, right over his tattoo. He roared as an intense orgasm overtook him.

He missed her lips nibbling at him the moment she drew away. She let go of his still-firm cock and slid off the counter. “Between that and the tea, I should sleep well tonight. And thanks for giving me your room.”

Wrung dry, Ramirez slumped against the counter and watched her saunter out of the kitchen, her perfect ass peeking at him from under the band of the sweatshirt.

Willow had to use the wall to help herself up the stairs to Ramirez’s bedroom, her legs were so noodly. How she made it out of the kitchen, she had no idea. All from unspent lust. Yes, he’d got her off—twice—but somehow it wasn’t enough.

Letting herself into his bedroom, she stumbled to the bed and dropped on the covers. She didn’t have words for what had happened, so she borrowed some from Morgan.
Jesus Christ.

It wasn’t like she was a virgin, but she’d never experienced
that
before—helpless pleasure, where she had no control over anything. She’d even come close to letting
mù ch’i
slip, which she’d
never
done before.

She wished she would have gotten to taste him, like he’d tasted her. She remembered the way he’d licked her, like she was a dessert to be savored; she felt herself get turned on again.

Drawing her sweatshirt over her head, she tossed it aside. She was about to pull the covers down, when the door opened. She whirled around to see a rumpled Ramirez standing in the doorway.

She didn’t know what she expected from him, but it wasn’t the clear, calm light in his eyes. For some reason, that freaked her out more than anything.

She took an involuntary step back. “It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

“Good idea,” he said, still staring at her. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and dropped it on the floor.

She felt her eyes widen at the sight of his beautiful chest. Sprinkled with enough hair to be manly, it was broad and muscled, and she wanted nothing more than to run her tongue along every ridge and ripple.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sleeping in here.”

“Good,” he said, undoing his pants and stepping out of them. “Because I am, too.”

Jesus. Christ.
She ogled the black silk boxers he wore, the same as what he’d offered her earlier.

“Except we’re not going to sleep right away.” He tugged the shorts down.

She watched his erection pop free from the waistband, and a need so strong, so potent, overcame her. She wanted him, too, badly. The intensity of that want terrified her.

“Do you want to know what we’re going to do?” He stalked toward her, slowly, as if he thought she’d bolt, which was a distinct possibility.

She locked her knees to stand still, cursing that her nipples got harder with each step he took. “Are you offering to draw me a diagram?”

“Why would I draw a picture, when I could just show you?” He stopped in front of her. “Get in bed.”

Her eyes narrowed in defiance, but before she could tell him what he could do with his bed, he pushed her back. She lay stunned for a second before she glared at him. “If you think I enjoy being manhandled, you’ve got a rude awakening coming.”

“That wasn’t manhandling, but I’m happy to show you the difference.”

“Not in this lifetime.” She rolled and scrambled across the mattress, looking over her shoulder in time to see him lunge for her. He landed to the right of her and quickly shifted Willow onto her back, pinning her in place.

Willow froze, unable to breathe. Not from his weight—he kept that off her. It was the feel of him covering her. His arms holding hers down. His chest, broad and strong across her back. His erection nestled at the crux of her legs.

Closing her eyes, she imagined his hands reaching under her belly to touch as he inched his way into her. She wanted that so badly. Before she could help herself, she nudged him with her butt.

“Willow,” he whispered, brushing her hair aside. His teeth scraped the tendon where her neck and shoulder met. Like he’d read her mind, he slipped a hand under her and cupped between her legs. He held her there for a long, breathtaking moment before he eased a finger into her folds.