She heard a muffled double thud and realized he had dropped to his knees. He spread her apart again and she felt his mouth at her center. Quick as thought, she jammed her palm into her mouth and muffled the wild groan she couldn’t lock back. Then she hung onto the counter for dear life as his tongue slipped inside her, then retreated and swept across her clit, which had began to throb in delighted abandon.

She felt a finger push slowly, gently inside her as his mouth settled over her clit and he began to suck, occasionally flicking the trembling bud with his tongue as she swallowed a sob of purest frustration. She had assumed quickies were just that—quick—not drawn-out torture, not being touched with skill and love but unable to touch back, not being able to talk, to beg, to plead…she wanted to pull him inside her.

She wanted to jump off the counter and get down on her hands and knees, flip her skirt up over her back and beg him to take her from behind. She wanted to take him inside her mouth. She wanted to touch every inch of him, she wanted to own his body as he owned hers, she wanted…

His fingers were gone, his hands were on her thighs, spreading them as far apart as they would go. Now his tongue was inside her again, darting in controlled jabs. She cupped her own breasts, squeezed. Her head fell back against the wall and she stared blindly at the ceiling. She could feel his hands on her thighs, his tongue inside her, darting, flicking, probing…then he was kissing her clit and she was biting her lips bloody so as not to scream.

She could feel her orgasm like a flower felt the sun start to rise and welcomed it. But mere seconds from the point of no return, Jared abruptly pulled back, leaving her teetering and only years of hiding her feelings kept her from bursting into frustrated tears. He sat back on his heels and blew, just puffed soft breaths at her swollen, hot, tender flesh and when he seemed sure she wasn’t going to spin away from him into release, he started all over again…his sweet, talented mouth busy between her thighs, bringing her to the edge and leaving her there too many times to count. She couldn’t think of protesting, of fighting it, could only hang onto the counter with her eyes closed and her mouth open while he played her body like a virtuoso handled a violin…with skill, with love, with absolute control.

A thousand years later, he stood up and she heard the most welcome sound in the world…he was unbuckling his belt, pulling his zipper down and who would have thought the simple rasp of metal teeth would bring another surge of heat between her legs? Her eyes had adjusted as much as they would to the dark and he was nothing but a large shadow in front of her, now leaning forward and giving her his mouth. She sucked greedily at his lips, his tongue, tasting him, tasting herself. He broke the kiss and she heard how his breathing had roughened in the dark until he was nearly panting and wondered if his silence wasn’t so much out of safety, but because he could no longer speak.

She felt the tip of him nudge between her swollen nether lips without entering and even though she didn’t have nearly as much of him as she liked, she could still feel him throbbing furiously. She tried to scoot forward, to impale herself on him, but he instantly moved back. She got the message at once and quit trying, grinding her teeth because even now, even now he would not relinquish his dominance and ohhhh, when she was herself again she was going to make him pay for this.

He stroked his thick tip up and down her slick flesh, never quite dipping inside, soaking himself wet with her wetness. His other hand was squeezing her breast, hard, pulling at her swollen nipple, running the straining peak through his fingers. She gloried in his rough touch, it was exactly what she needed, craved, to offset the delirious madness he’d brought to life within her. Then she felt him slip into her. She had time to think, oh thank Christ, I’m going to come at last, before she realized he’d only slid in an inch…and stopped.

Her legs started to come up around his waist, she was done with waiting, done with the endless torture, when his hands slapped against the insides of her knees and he held her legs apart. He began to rock, shallow strokes that only brought a fraction of his length within her and then out again and she sobbed, she couldn’t hold it back but wept as quietly as she could and he sighed. She knew her control troubled him, knew he longed for her to let go with him…is that why he had done this? To make her lose herself?

Did he need proof that under her cool exterior she was a hot-blooded woman with very basic needs, needs he was so excellently equipped to meet?

In response to her sigh, her soft sobs, his strokes had lengthened, they were long and deep and he let go of her legs so she could cling to his waist. His hands slid beneath her buttocks and he pulled her tightly against him, so her exposed breasts were pressed against his sweat-damp shirt and he pumped, pumped, pumped, done with his teasing touch, now just taking her as she had longed to be taken, in long slick strokes.

“It’s all right,” he managed softly, his voice so low and thick she could barely understand him, “I’m going to let you come now. And you want to, don’t you, sweetheart?”

She didn’t answer; she didn’t have to. Everything clenched within her and suddenly her orgasm was bursting through her, so hard and fast she buried her face against his shoulder and bit back the shriek of relief and ecstasy. She could actually feel her uterus contracting, feel the throbbing as blood rushed to the very center of her. No sooner had her long-awaited orgasm ended than another began, swooping through her, she was on a roller coaster of pleasure, cresting one hill only to plunge down another and she could feel him trembling, heard his breathing stop for a moment and then he was pulsing within her, his grip on her like iron, his face buried in her hair.

A long moment passed while their breathing slowed, while they came back to the planet. She felt him kiss her ear and then whisper, “Never, never, never leave me to wake up alone and afraid for you.” And then, more softly still, “I love you.”

She wept and tried to whisper the words he wanted to hear, words she never thought she would say—or feel—but he seemed to understand and shushed her and held her for a long time.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“I’m still mad at you,” Jared whispered cheerfully, “but right now I’m so relaxed, it’s hard to care.”

Kara snorted. She was fairly annoyed herself, but couldn’t figure out if it was because her pride was wounded at how he so ruthlessly mastered her, or because he’d cheated her out of killing Carlotti, or because he’d come to the warehouse in the first place. But his seed was trickling between her thighs and, as he said, it was difficult to stay angry. What she wanted to do was check into a hotel and spend the rest of the day making love. Instead, she was tromping through a warehouse with her wiseass lover, keeping an ear cocked for pursuit and wondering what the hell to do now.

She couldn’t hear sounds of pursuit, which was comforting, but if she couldn’t kill Carlotti, it was past time to be gone. If she were alone, she wouldn’t worry a jot about silently slipping out of the warehouse unseen. But Jared was at her side and “stealthy” wasn’t exactly the best word to describe him.

The ‘clang’ as he tripped over a pail brought this point home and she swallowed a sigh. Looking sheepish, Jared regained his balance and picked up the pail, apparently meaning to carry it with him.

“When we get out of here,” she said at last, “you should go to the D.A. Tell him everything you’ve seen and ask for police protection.”

“Screw that,” was the rude reply. “If I leave you alone for a minute, I’ll never see you again. You weren’t going to come back, were you? You were going to ice the bad guy and disappear on me.” His voice was the muted thunder of anger. His eyes told a different story.

“Jared…Jared, I’ll only get you killed.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I couldn’t bear that.

Anything but that.”

His gaze still reproached her. “Oh. Okay. But you putting yourself in danger on my behalf, I can choke that down, no problem.”

“Shhhhh.”

“Shhhh yourself,” he grumbled.

She held up a hand to forestall further arguing and poked her head around the corner. She never peeked. Slow movement gave the bad guys something to train their gun sights on. A quick glance, flash and gone. “Hallway’s clear, let’s—”

His hand closed around her bicep, circling it easily and he pulled her back. She was surprised again at the strength in that hand, then reminded herself that Jared Dean was many things, but he wasn’t a wimp.

“Listen up, blondie,” he said, not unkindly. “I’m not going anywhere. I mean right this second and in general. I know you don’t believe me and that’s okay…for now. I don’t expect you to take me on faith.

I know I have to prove myself. I—”

“We don’t have time for this,” she said with deliberate cruelty, because they didn’t and because she wanted him out of that warehouse and safe and didn’t want to hear him explain why it was all right not to trust him. Because if he kept up this—this nobility stuff, she’d probably have to break down in tears and beg his forgiveness and never, never, never leave his side. And of course that—all of that—was impossible.

“Make time, dammit. I know where you came from. Well, where I come from, it’s the worst kind of cowardice to leave a woman—particularly a woman you love—in order to save yourself. It’s not gonna happen. I’m never going to the D.A., I’m never going to stay out of the way when you kick ass on the bad guys and I’m not hiding in the goddamned bedroom while you kill the guy who wants to kill me. Get.

Used. To. It.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. He wasn’t angry…well, he was a little, but that wasn’t hot rage talking for him. He really was a chauvinist and she should have been annoyed at his ludicrous attempt to repress her, but the reality was, she thought it was kind of nice. If incredibly misguided.

Jared, she knew, never said anything he didn’t mean. He was stuck to her like a lamprey, whether she liked it or not. And frankly, the only reason she didn’t like it was because of the danger it represented to him. So the question was…