2000 Kisses (30 page)

She moved restlessly and sent fresh pain slashing through his groin. “You have a right to know. People should be honest, don't you think?” She frowned, chewing her lip. “No matter the consequences.”

He was starting to worry. “Generally, yes. But sometimes honesty can be overrated.” Water lifted her up and down, skimming over the wet silk covering her breasts.

T.J. wanted desperately to rip the silk free and bury himself in the sweeter silk of her body.

She frowned. “You're saying sometimes people should lie to each other?”

“I don't know
what
I'm saying right now.” He closed his eyes as she anchored herself by gripping his shoulders while their bodies gently drifted up and down.

Wet jeans
didn't
help, he discovered.

“I don't want to lie. Not to you,” she whispered, brushing the wet hair at his shoulders. “It's about me.” She looked up, her eyes full of shadows.

He couldn't stand the weight of her anxiety. He steeled himself for painful revelations. “What about you?”

She lost her hold and the current pumped her against him ruthlessly. She grabbed for something solid. Missing his chest, her hand struck his waist and slid over his straining zipper. “Sorry,” she hissed, jerking her fingers away.

“Tell me the rest.”

“It's me. How I feel. How I
don't
feel. Usually.” Their bodies brushed, bumped. He gave up trying to understand as she wrapped her knees around his waist to keep from floating off again. Muscles screamed. Heat seared.

His hand opened, sliding over the scrap of fine lace. “How do your bruises feel?”

“Bruises? Oh, much better. It's the water.” She gave a crooked smile. “Or maybe it's the company.”

“Definitely the company,” His hands moved over her thigh. He studied her face as his thumbs hitched under the elastic barrier.

Her breath puffed free. “T.J., I want to tell you about—”

“Later.” His voice was hoarse as he skimmed beneath the barrier of silk and lace. She clutched his shoulders, closing her eyes with a gasp at his slow exploration. She was tight and sleek and he took a keen pleasure in watching her surprise shoot into desire.

“But you aren't—you haven't—”

He bit gently at her shoulder, feeling her back arch when the first tremors hit. Each rhythmic stroke made her moan and press against him. She was beautiful in her passion, beautiful as she gasped out his name.

Night was a curtain of velvet as she collapsed against his chest. The pounding of his heart was oddly distant, as was the unrelieved torment centered in his straining lower anatomy. Neither mattered. AH focus was reduced to the woman now softly cradled against his chest.

When she tried to pull away, he tilted her face up to his. Even in the darkness, he saw her distress. “What now?”

“You. Me. It wasn't—”

“Wonderful?” His eyebrow rose. “Maybe I missed something amid the shivering and those soft, broken sounds you made.”

Color flooded her face. “It was wonderful. But—”

“Good.” He pulled her back against him, loath to give up the pleasure of her warm body. “So what was that other thing you had to tell me?”

She ran a hand through her hair, frowning. “It doesn't matter. Not anymore. That's just it, don't you see?”

He didn't, not for a second. But he was enjoying the sight of her too much to be irritated. McCall was a patient man, and his thoroughness always resulted in answers. “Move your leg. Just there.”

Frowning, she complied.

“Now the other. ITiat's right.”

“Why?” Hie wisp of lace drifted over her ankles and floated off into the steaming currents. Then die front clasp at her chest snapped free, and her last scrap of clothing bobbed in the water.

“You're very efficient.”

“I try to be.” A weight settled over his chest as he stared at her, pale and beautiful in the light of die rising moon. “I've never seen anything I've wanted more.” With one slow movement he cradled her against his arm while his mouth savored the lush curve of her breast. He saw her eyes glaze over, heard her soft, broken sound of pleasure as his hand slid low to close over her again.

She shuddered beneath his callused fingers, then twisted free and jammed her hands against his chest. “No. Not again.”

“It's pleasure, Tess. I have no problem giving you this.” His voice was rough, testament to the battle he waged with his control.

She closed her eyes, shivering as he eased higher into the sleek heat and found the exquisitely hidden nexus of her desire.

“Or this,” he murmured.

Her body snapped back. Passion slammed through her. After her broken cry faded, she studied him through the steam. “That wasn't supposed to happen.”

Her heart was pounding. He felt every jolt against his palm.

“I don't—” She broke off with a muttered oath. “That's what I tried to tell you before.”

He brushed a curl from her cheek, savoring the energy in her vibrant face, the intensity of her eyes. “I'm listening.”

“Stop distracting me,” she ordered. She caught his
wrist and pushed him away, hissing in surprise when he palmed her breast instead. “It's this—whatever you do. I've never—” She gave a soft whimper as his teeth closed exquisitely over her nipple. Her head sank back as he sent desire spilling in a new wave of heat.

Her eyes opened as he anchored her cheeks in his palms. “Don't tell me that you've never been with a man before.”

Her smile was a pale curve of moonlight “Only two. Eminently forgettable, I'm afraid.”

“Colleagues?”

“Do we really have to talk about-this?” She sank against him, her cheek to his chest. Her hand eased beneath his collar. “We're going to have to get you out of this wet shirt.”

“Later,” he grated. “Talk to me.”

She slid open a button and combed through the damp hair beneath. “It was a few years ago. He was a geologist who traveled a lot. In fact, we managed to spend only one weekend together. It wasn't exactly … memorable.”

TJ. wished he had the geologist within reach at that moment. “No?” he probed.

She moved closer, her hand drifting over his chest. “It was all very organized.”

Organized? What the hell did
thai
mean? “He was methodical?”

She nodded. “Everything was timed down to the minute. He said if he wasn't organized in his line of work, he could miss a gusher.”

It was all T.J. could do to choke back laughter.

She looked up at the strangled sound he couldn't quite suppress. “It was over in a few moments. After that, he fell asleep and snored.”

“Tell me about the other one.”

She shook her head ruefully. “Remember the wooden horse in the photo shoot I arranged?”

T.J. nodded.

“The other one was the actor for that campaign.”

T.J. felt a grin forming. “The one who fell off only twice?”

“That's him. It was probably a minor error in judgment. Actually, a major error in judgment.” Her voice tightened. “It turned out that he didn't—that I couldn't—” She looked away.

T.J. pressed her head against his chest, fighting the urge to take her beneath him now and show her exactly how different it could be. “They were fools,” he said hoarsely.

“I figured it was my problem, something that was wrong with me.” Her fingers drifted low and his shirt opened.

Irritably, T.J. stripped the garment free and let it float away to join hers. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

She smiled into his chest, her fingers raking him lightly. “That I'm not good at this. That I haven't ever been able to—let go.”

“I guess you were wrong.” His voice went smoky. “About four times wrong, by my count.” He turned gently. “And that's just for starters.”

She leaned forward, gripping his shoulders for a kiss that left him dizzy. “That's for correcting my mistaken impressions.”

“So you had a thing for cowboys even then.”

“He wasn't really a cowboy. I found out that he'd learned his Texas twang from watching old reruns of
Rawhide.
He bought his boots on East Forty-second Street in New York.”

“Not many horses there,” TJ. drawled. “Except for the mounted police units.”

Her husky laughter spilled into a breathless sigh as she found his belt and tugged slowly.

“You might not want to tackle that right now, Tess.”

“No?” She slid the prong free. “Why is that?”

Pain jolted, hot and swift as she brushed the straining outline of his erection. “Because it might take you places you don't want to go.”

Her lips curved in determination as she straddled him, tugging his belt free loop by loop. “Are you telling me what I do and don't want to do, Sheriff?”

“No, Ma'am,” he said through gritted teeth. “But—”

“Good.” Her fingers eased the single button free, then found his zipper. “Because I wouldn't be listening very hard.” The metal tab eased downward. “I want to see you. Feel you,” she whispered. “And I can't wait any longer. If what you did felt good, then I can't even imagine what the real thing will be like. Actually, I'm tired of imagining.”

“Tess.” His fingers locked over her wrist, holding her still. “You're sore and bruised. It's probably been a while for you.”

Her smile came, fast and crooked, “It's been forever, McCall, in every way that counts. Now, stop giving me excuses I don't want or need and take off those damned jeans before we both scream.”

W
ater frothed over her high, full breasts. TJ. closed his eyes, aware that he was about to do something stupid. Irresponsible.

Wonderful.

“Let me handle the belt.” He stood up, then yanked against the wet, clinging denim. He felt her gaze burning on him every second.

It took him too long to kick free of the denim and dispose of the white cotton beneath. He didn't know whether to be pleased or self-conscious when her eyes widened.

“Very impressive, McCall.” She caught his hand and pulled him back into the water.

He fought for finesse, for care and control.

It appeared that Tess wanted neither. Her hands speared into his hair and her mouth moved hungrily against his. “I don't know how or why, but all I can think of is you. This.” She scraped her nails lightly along the length of him, her eyes dazed.

Patience shattered.

He found her hips first, lifting her to meet his rigid heat. “Now,” he muttered, lost in her. Lost in heat and magic.

Skin to skin, he felt the night close around them, a
drifting warmth that left them cut off from noise, bustle, or the reality beyond the adobe walls.

He whispered her name and felt her nails dig into his shoulders.

Offering.

Offering.

The rush of hunger nearly overwhelmed him, but the way he touched her was gentle, questioning, open to the wonder of the night's magic.

Man to woman. Skin to wet skin.

At his first stroke, she shivered, her eyes darkening with pleasure. Her legs straddled him as he built the pressure slowly. Again he moved, pleasure spilling like a dream.

T.J. closed his eyes, caught in the churning sensations of warm desert wind, clinging water, the hot, sweet dance of her skin on his. Too long denied, his body screamed for a savage release, yet finishing was the last thing he wanted.

So he played out the pleasure for both of them, his lips at her jaw while he slowly, exquisitely, brought them together as one. At the moment of full joining, a shudder worked through her, then ripped into him. Linked, bound, they felt every sensation as one.

He smiled grimly as a new tremor rocked her where she held him. Even then he didn't move, bending his head to plant a kiss in her hair, then framing her face with his hands, meeting her gaze.

He saw trails of moonlight in her eyes, hints of promises as she moved against him, gripping his shoulders, and sliding along his heated lengtti, while the water rippled with magic.

Because he wanted to take, he gave. Because he craved speed, he chose delay instead. Slow, hot, and
probing, he moved within her until she rocked backward, a broken sound of pleasure spilling into the air.

T.J. knew he wanted nothing more than this, feeling her pulse where she sheathed him so tightly. He closed his eyes. “I need you, Tess. I've needed this forever.”

Her answer was a broken laugh, a brush of hands, and the urgent movement of her body on his. Together they strained, yearned, matching stroke to stroke. She threw back her head, her soft moan drifting.

Entranced, T.J. watched moonlight gild her body in the water. Then heat burst through him, and reason fled. All was hot pleasure, screaming need. Her fingers slipped and he gripped her hips fiercely. When her deep tremors began again, he drove blindly, pouring the heat of himself deep within her, grating out her name with a dark madness that knew no end until she wrapped her legs around him and joined him in the spinning silence.