It felt too right.
He was still kissing her as he shed his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Still kissing her as he tugged at his tie, tossing it aside. She applied her fingers to the buttons of his shirt just as he reached to undo them himself. Their eyes met, and they smiled, then laughed, and turned their attention to their own clothing. His shirt fell to the floor, and then he paused, reaching to the small of his back for the gun he kept there in a leather holster. She stepped back.
“I’m not a proponent of everyone in the world running around with a gun,” he said. “But in my line of work, it’s a necessary evil.”
She stared at him. “I was just waiting for you to put it down,” she said quietly.
He held it awkwardly for a moment.
“On the bedside table,” she suggested.
“I’m staying?” he asked.
“See me through until morning?”
“I won’t leave you,” he said.
“It wouldn’t be at all professional to leave me in danger,” she told him with a smile, then was immediately sorry she’d said the word, knowing he already felt it was unprofessional for him to be here.
She turned quickly and headed toward her bedroom, letting her blouse drop to the floor as she went. A part of her was afraid he wouldn’t follow.
But he did.
In her room she kicked off her shoes, slipped out of her skirt and wished she’d worn stockings for once instead of panty hose. She sat on the bed so she could peel them off.
She was startled when she found him dropped down to his knees by the bed. His eyes met hers, and he slid the panty hose slowly from her legs. She watched him, feeling her breath catch, her arousal rise. He was shirtless, and now she had time to revel in him. He was everything she’d imagined, broad in the shoulders and chest, all lean muscle, perfect in every detail. His lips dropped to her kneecap, and she trembled in surprise. He looked at her again, then pushed her back on the bed, kissed her knees and her thighs up to her bikini panties, then teased there, too, tasting her through the silk before removing them and rising to strip off the last of his own clothing.
She shuddered wildly in his arms, certain she’d never been so aroused in her life. He kissed her lips, and she felt the pressure of his erection against her flesh. She ached to feel him inside her and wrapped her legs around him, arching to meet his thrust as he entered her. She wasn’t very experienced, didn’t fall easily into intimacy, but she was certain it would be impossible to find a better lover. He began to move, slowly at first, each movement awakening a wilder urge inside her...throughout her. In moments she felt as if there was nothing more important in the world than what was happening between them, nothing that could be more sensually explosive than the feel of him inside her.
She felt as if she were riding a wickedly sweet roller coaster, rising to peak after peak, everything simultaneously real and surreal. She was overwhelmingly aware of the scent of him, the feel of his naked flesh, the heat that burned between them. Suddenly she climaxed more wildly than she had ever imagined possible. She felt him shudder violently, and then he held her for a long moment before he fell to the mattress beside her, arms around her still. No matter what was to come, she thought, she would never regret the night.
They lay in silence for several minutes—probably necessary since she could barely breathe, much less speak. He pulled her close to the slick dampness of his body and smoothed her hair before he spoke again.
“Whatever my punishment might be, I’ll accept it gladly,” he said softly.
That roused her from the cloud of mist and magic that had surrounded her in the aftermath of their spontaneous union. She rose up on an elbow, staring at him. “I’ll never say anything,” she promised vehemently. “I’d never risk your job.”
That drew a smile from him, and he reached up to touch her hair with something like reverence. “I don’t kiss and tell, either, Miss Finnegan.” He laughed. “And I certainly have no intention of risking the mighty wrath of the brothers Finnegan. Not that I’d ever deceive your brothers. But do you honestly think that I’ll ever be able to look at you and not feel, not remember, what just happened between us? As far as my feelings for you go, I don’t intend to deny anything, just to be careful enough so that no one decides I need to be reassigned.”
She frowned at that. “I understand that I’ll be called as a witness when the thieves you caught that night go to jail, but the case doesn’t really involve me anymore.” She bit her lower lip. “You’re looking for the copycats now, and they don’t have anything to do with me or Finnegan’s. You’ve been great, helping me after the whole subway thing, but that’s not an FBI matter, is it?”
He didn’t answer, and that scared her.
“You don’t really think I’m in danger, do you?” she asked.