Hands still pressed to her eyes, she said, “Stop asking me that, Matt. It’s driving me crazy. I am as fine as I can be, given the circumstances.”
When he didn’t respond, she let her hands drop and turned to face him. His hair was a little longer and more tousled than when she hired him, she noticed, and a fine network of lines spread from the corners of his eyes. They were both tired, not sleeping well. Even after the sex. “Why aren’t you out front?”
“It’s slow tonight.”
“Pink’s in town,” she said. “I think most of my customer base is at the concert.”
“I hear the trapeze routine rocks.”
She gave him the small smile he’d want to see after making a joke, maybe even felt it a little. “Me too.”
“What’s on your mind, Eve?”
“The usual,” she said and turned to find her clipboard.
Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face now. Long hair aside, his expressionless demeanor could have been a recruiting poster for the Army. “We’ll get him.”
“Whatever it takes, right?”
A long moment stretched between them. Then he said, “That dress looks like someone poured smoke on you.”
A by-now familiar diversion, but it worked. She wore a simple silvery-gray wrap dress with a deep V plunging between her breasts, lined with red silk that appeared as she moved. She’d bought it at an upscale consignment boutique and wore only silver earrings with it, as the dress was a sophisticated enticement all on its own. She smoothed her palms down her hips and looked at him through her tousled hair. “You like?”
Heat flared in his hazel eyes, moss over flecked stone. “I like how the red flashes when you walk.”
“Hmmmm?” she said, closing the distance between them. She needed this. Whatever worked to keep her focused, strong. She needed him.
“Makes me wonder what you’ve got on underneath.”
He stepped into her, wrapped an arm around her waist to hoist her against him, then carried her to the smooth metal shelf lining the wall by the door. She linked her arms around his neck and tossed her hair back from her face when he set her down and stepped between her legs. But when he reached for the tie holding the dress closed, she put her hand on his.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she cautioned.
He continued to tug at the thin gray cord, and the flap of her dress loosened. “I locked the door.”
She tried to hold the gaping fabric closed. “I’m not exactly quiet,” she said halfheartedly.
“It’s really hot when you have to be quiet. Remember?” he said, and parted the flaps. His gaze flicked over her lace bra and thong. “Red. My favorite.”
“I know,” she said. Talking became impossible when he gripped the back of her head in one hand and her ass in the other, holding her to him for kiss after slick, hot kiss. He was notched between her spread legs, and she felt his cock thicken and grow hard as his tongue slid against hers. She hooked one heel behind his knee and reached for the button fly of his jeans, popping the first three buttons to reach inside and grip his erection.
“Jesus,” he said, and broke free. She knew how he felt. She was beginning to wonder if this would ever go away.
She skimmed her thong down and off while he opened his jeans and sheathed himself in latex, then, in one smooth, gliding stroke, in her. The thick shaft stretched her and she gasped, then whimpered as he pulled her to the edge of the counter. She wound her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Mindful of the foot traffic from the bar to the dish room, she buried her face in his shoulder to stifle her gasps. He stopped and pulled his Eye Candy T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the counter beside her.
“Makeup on my shoulder’s a dead giveaway,” he muttered.
As if glassy eyes, a flushed throat, swollen lips, and a languid hitch in her walk wouldn’t tell everyone who worked at the bar, and maybe some of the customers, exactly what had happened. She didn’t argue with him because running her palms over his shoulders and down his ridged abdomen ratcheted up the anticipation, and when it came right down to it, she didn’t give a damn. She needed this. So badly.
She expected hard and fast, but he braced one hand against the wall behind her and wrapped the other around her hips, holding her in position as he moved. Slowly. Achingly slowly, letting her feel every single inch glide in, pause, then withdraw. The head of his shaft caressed nerve endings aroused and desperate for heat and pressure. Her eyes closed, she sank into her body, the tantalizing rasp of lace against her nipples as they brushed his chest, the warm metal under her ass. The backs of his thighs flexed and released as he moved, denim between her bare legs and his. One red patent leather heel clattered to the cement floor, then the other, as she tightened inside and out, clinging to him, mouth open against the muscled curve where his neck blended into his shoulder.