Lara’s mind was racing almost as quickly as her heart as she reached her room and waited for Brett to join her.
She couldn’t help thinking about the possible repercussions of what she was doing. Apparently she’d spent too much time in politics, where life was all about creating positive consequences and avoiding negative repercussions. Which was this going to lead to? She told herself she was crazy. They were in the middle of trying to solve a terrifying mystery, and he was the agent in charge; anyone in the world would say that this was the wrong time to get involved with someone, and the wrong time to get sexually involved with anyone, especially him. And while her walls were concrete block and stucco, they weren’t alone in her house. She wouldn’t lie to Meg if she asked what was going on. For all she knew, Meg might already know how she felt.
So what kind of spin should she put on this?
Then Brett walked into the room behind her, and she suddenly realized that she didn’t have to analyze or explain herself. She wanted him, wanted this, wanted to be with him more than she had imagined ever wanting a man. She slipped into his arms again. They kissed, hot and delicious, as both of them struggled out of their clothes. Her dress was gone, along with her bra; his shirt followed and she felt her breasts press hard against the burning muscles of his chest. She ran her fingers over his shoulders and down his back. She felt the protrusion of the gun shoved into his waistband. He put his hand over hers, then removed the gun and stepped away to set it on the bedside table. He looked at her in the dim glow of the streetlights that filtered through her drapes. She ran to him and leaped into his arms, and they kissed again, wrapped around each other, half-naked. Finally they fell onto the bed, where she eased her fingers into his waistband, seeking the zipper of his jeans. He reached for it at the same time, and they struggled a little awkwardly, laughed and then he took off his jeans while she shimmied out of her panties. Finally they were together again.
“My God,” he murmured, whispering against her ear, and he lowered himself over her, the whole of his body like a fire, a shimmering flame that danced across her sensitive skin. “I dreamed about you,” he whispered. “After diving...seeing you in a bathing suit.”
“How very...male of you.”
“Yes. And it wasn’t even that sexy a suit.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said breathlessly.
“Well, maybe it was on you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she only smiled.
“Admit it. You dreamed about me, too.”
“What an ego you have!”
“Admit it,” he repeated, his mouth moving over her flesh. “You dreamed about me, too.”
“Not at first.” She trembled, then shuddered. His lips were moving lower on her body. A pit of something like lava seemed to boil inside her, ready to streak through her, awakening every nerve in her body. “Not really.”
“Kind of? Almost?” The heat of his whisper tickled her ear.
“I noticed you, I will say that.”
“Only noticed?” His kiss landed on her throat. “You weren’t the least bit interested?” His next kiss landed on her midriff; his fingers teased her flesh.
She laughed, despite the sensations sweeping through her, or maybe because of them.
“Noticed—and not in the best light,” she teased.
He dropped a kiss on her abdomen.
“And there I was, dreaming away,” he whispered.
She threaded her fingers through the thick darkness of his hair. “Liar,” she murmured. He looked down at her, and she touched his face and said, “But I think maybe, just maybe, there was always something there.”
“Always,” he said. “We just had to pay attention.”
She felt the pressure of his thighs between her knees, and wrapped her arms and legs around him.
Then they looked at each other in simultaneous alarm.
“I’m not on any birth control,” she murmured. A flush rose to her cheeks. “I haven’t...seen anyone in a long time, and...”
He winced and rolled to her side. “I never intended to stay,” he said softly. “Much less for anything like this to happen.” He turned and caressed her cheek. “There are other things we can do.”
“Wonderful things,” she agreed. “Though it will be almost like torture.”
“Good torture,” he said, and smiled.
She leaned over him and pressed her lips to his shoulder, then trailed them along his flesh until she felt the sharp contraction of the muscles in his belly. Then she moved lower, only to feel his grip tighten on her shoulders as he shifted her onto her back, his face above hers, a smile on his lips as he kissed her mouth, and then her throat and her breasts. He moved his liquid caress lower and lower until she was gasping and writhing and trying to escape his hold, but only so she could stroke and kiss him in return.
And then, to her amazement, he leaped out of bed, and for a split second she wondered what in hell she had done.
“My wallet!” he said.
“I’m, uh, sure it’s still in your pants. Why?”
“Sex education.”