Annie on the Lam: A Christmas Caper (14 page)

Lowering one hand to her panties, he slid his fingers inside and stroked her until she begged him not to stop.

“Wait, honey,” he whispered, then he leaned back, said, “Lift up a second. Let me get out of these jeans.”

Annie moved to one side and slipped off her clothes while he shoved his jeans and briefs to his ankles. In only seconds, he was out of them. She drank in the sight and feel of him from his beautiful eyes all the way down. Incredible. Gorgeous. There weren't enough words to describe what she thought of him. She loved looking at his broad shoulders, the dark dusting of hair on his chest, his flat stomach. He was every inch male, every inch beautiful, so blatantly sexy she almost couldn't breathe.

He pulled her onto his lap again. She held her breath as she looked down, blinked and stared, then met Joe's gaze with an appreciative smile. His dark eyes gleamed, and when she touched him, his quick intake of breath only encouraged her. Annie imagined what he would feel like inside of her, filling her, moving, easing the mindless unbearable ache between her thighs.

“Tell me what you want, Annie. Tell me what you imagined last night.”

When she did, he reached back with one hand, and then he was tearing into the small packet that held the condom. Seconds later, he leaned her against the fur coat and settled himself between her legs, holding his body slightly above her with his arms.

Annie heard the hiss of the wind, felt the car rock and sway and a tiny draft of cold air at the edge of the door. The brush of Joe's chest tickled her breasts, making her nerve endings sing, her stomach clamp tight, the yearning spread. Then there was only his weight on top of her, his mouth at her breast, sucking and soothing, a hot rush of pleasure as he thrust inside of her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, rocked against him, matching the rhythm he'd started, losing herself in the sounds and scents and sensations of their lovemaking. Sighs and moans and murmured words, Joe's musky smell mingling with her own, his hands and mouth everywhere, building an overwhelming pressure within her that grew and grew until she thought she'd scream. And his eyes…they looked down at her…dark and hot and heart-stopping.

“Let go, Annie,” Joe said in a low voice. “It's just you and me.”

And then she did scream, closed her eyes and cried out as spasms tore through her body with a shattering force. She held on to him, felt his shoulders tense, felt his answering shudder of release before he went lax on top of her.

They clung to each other as they spiralled back down, and when Annie could think again, she was in total awe of what had just happened, the way he'd made her feel with a perfect combination of tenderness and passion. When Joe touched her, kissed her, looked at her, he convinced her she was all those things he'd proclaimed her to be. Beautiful. Sexy and exasperating. Vital. She smiled lazily, amazed. He'd said she was ‘vital'. Who knew how sexy that description would be? How much she'd needed to hear it?

Joe
had known. He'd
known
.

“Joe…I never—”

“Me, either.” He lifted a hand, stroked her hair. “Not like that. Never like that.”

Annie laughed. “Joe?”

“Hmmm?”

“If we get out of this mess alive, remind me to thank Lacy for her Christmas gift, would you?”

“Only if you thank her for me, too.”

He lifted his head, smiled down at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

And just like that, Annie felt it, that elusive, mysterious
zing
Sara had described. That feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she just
had to have this man
, that she wouldn't survive if she ever had to let him go.

Annie
lay with her ear against Joe's chest, listening to his heartbeat. She was naked and warm stretched out on top of him now, beneath Harry's coat. Except for her nose. Her nose was numb. She scooted up, nuzzled her face into the crook of Joe's neck.

He played with her hair while his other hand rubbed the small of her back, her hip, her bottom. They hadn't said much for the past half hour, just held one another. Annie was half afraid to speak. Too many words might break the spell, the simple perfection of what had happened between them.

“My feet are warm,” she said finally. “They're never warm. Not in the winter. It's a miracle.”

“I have that effect on women.” Joe's voice was a low rasp in the darkness. “We should get dressed before the heat wears off.”

She lifted her head and smiled down at him. “I think we have a while before that happens.”

He traced a fingertip down her jawline, touched her lower lip, lingered. “I'm having a hard time figuring out why all your fiancés let you slip away.”

“Oh, they didn't want to. But the truth is, I don't think they were really after me. They were after the fringe benefits that came
with
me. Did I tell you my father's filthy, stinking rich?”

He didn't answer that question, just watched her, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. “I think you sell yourself short. How do you know it was only the money they wanted?”

She shrugged. “They were all considered good catches, you know? They could've had their pick of women who would've been happy to stay home and run a household and entertain, and all that. And then, with the last two, I was older by then. Chuck and Lance had plenty of twenty-somethings panting at their heels. Why else would they have chosen me?”

Joe sent her a bemused narrow-eyed look. “Who wants a girl when they can have a full-grown woman?” He squeezed her bottom.

“It doesn't matter,” Annie said with a laugh. “I didn't want
them
.” She looked into his eyes. “They weren't my type. I realize that now.”

The moonlight reflecting off the snow illuminated Joe's face. Annie touched her lips to the discolored skin beneath his left eye where she'd hit him with her shoe during the scuffle in her apartment. In the space of an instant, he had gone from satisfied and smiling, to troubled. She could feel it, see it in his expression, sense the sudden tension in him.

She shifted a bit to her side, lifted onto her elbow.

He glanced away.

Why had she said that? Insinuated that
he
was her type. Obviously, Joe wasn't ready to take what they'd started a step further. Maybe he never would be. He hadn't promised her anything. She shouldn't take it for granted that had had felt what she did when they'd made love.

“I don't expect anything from you, Joe. I understand if what just happened didn't mean anything.”

“It meant something, Annie. This shaky self-image thing you have goin' on—”

“I don't have a shaky self-image,” she protested, but she thought to herself, he
can
see right through me.

Joe scowled at her. “You told me people have always said you're like your mother. Are you afraid that's true?”

Annie averted her gaze. “Before I found out the truth—” She sighed, looked at him again. “I used to think they were paying me a compliment, or at least I convinced myself of that. If I'm honest, though, I think I always knew there was a different side to her, that she had problems. But I didn't want to hear it or admit it any more than my father wanted to tell me.” She shook her head, huffed a humorless laugh. “I guess I'm just as guilty of keeping myself in the dark about my mother as he is.”

“You've told me some great things about her…”

“And some not so great things.”

“But it's those good things you mentioned that I see in you. Her laughter. The times when she was happy, when she put you and your dad first and made things special.”

Annie felt tears of gratitude gathering behind her eyes. It was so hard…loving her mother, wanting to be proud of her, but doubting her, too.

“My dad,” he continued. “After my brother was killed and Pop lost himself, I had to keep reminding myself of the way he was before he started drinking too much and gambling away every penny he made. I had to hold onto the memories of the father and husband he was when I was growing up. I knew that man was still inside him.” Joe paused, added, “I think it's the same with you and your mother.”

She brushed her knuckles against his beard-stubbled cheek. “There you go again, ruining your tough-guy image by being sweet.”

Joe slid his hand to the nape of her neck and pressed her head down toward his until their mouths touched. Still, Annie sensed conflict in him.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I don't want to hurt you, Annie. No matter what happens—”

“My eyes were wide open going into this. They still are. I don't expect anything,” she repeated.

But she wanted it. Oh, how she wanted it.

Joe didn't look at her.

Desperate to lighten his mood, Annie tilted her head to one side and said, “Do you realize we've known one another less than twenty-four hours?” She smirked at him. “And you thought I was a prude. Now, I suppose you think I'm a loose woman.”

He laughed. “Yeah, and I love it.”

“After what we just did, you may find this hard to believe, but being naughty
is
a whole new experience for me.”

“And you chose me to help guide you down the path to corruption. How'd I get so lucky?”

“You looked as if you'd be good at it.”

“And what do you think so far? Am I measuring up?”

She nuzzled his ear with her mouth, felt him harden against her thigh. “Oh, you definitely
measure up
. I had a very good time.” She giggled. “Next time, that is if you're
up
to it—”

He closed his eyes.

Gawd.
Why couldn't she stop saying the wrong things? Maybe he intended this to be a one-time incident. “I only want sex from you, Brady,” she said, trying to tease him out of his funk. “I'm not asking for your soul, just this.” Annie slipped her hand between their bodies and touched him. “I promise I'll return it in the same condition I found it in.”

Joe groaned. “Sweet Tea, after tonight it's never gonna be the same.”

Laughing, Annie propped a forearm against Joe's chest and trailed the fingers of her opposite hand down a jagged scar that stretched like a tiny lightning bolt from his collarbone to his shoulder. “What happened here?”

“Knife wound.”

She flinched, stunned by his indifferent tone. “Did it happen in the line of duty or during your wayward youth?”

“Line of duty. When you work undercover, sometimes it goes with the territory.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

His eyes remained closed. “We should sleep.”

“I'm not sleepy. I slept while you drove.”

“Well, I am.” After a moment, he opened his eyes, and when he found her staring down at him expectantly, Joe exhaled noisily. “Okay. I'll tell you, but then you've gotta let me get some sleep.”

“Deal.” She balanced her forearms on his chest.

Joe waited a few beats, then said, “It helps to be a good liar when you work undercover. If you screw up and they call your bluff, you might wind up in the E.R. or worse. I screwed up.”

“How?”

“I was posing as a customer trying to buy cocaine. The dealer was a cop. That academy classmate of Willis's I mentioned. I'd met with him before under an assumed name to arrange things. This particular time, though, he brought a friend, and it just so happened the guy knew me.”

“You mean he knew you were a cop?”

Joe nodded. “I got a little cut up, but it was worth it. That wasn't the first time I took in a crooked cop. Wasn't the last time, either. Which is why I developed a reputation that didn't set well with a few of my fellow officers.”

“I don't understand their way of thinking. They should've applauded you.”

“I don't get it, either. Most cops don't. It's hard enough dealing with the criminals on the outside without being forced to deal with them inside the ranks, too.”

Annie studied him. “Why did you do it if you knew they'd come down on you?”

“I was good at it.”

Annie caught a hint of something cold and bitter in his expression as she traced the scar. She sensed more to the wound than what she could see. As he sifted through his thoughts, it occurred to her that they might as well have existed on different planets before they met. Her run-in with Harry Landau last night was the closest she had ever come to touching the darker side of life.

“I told you about my little brother,” Joe finally said. “He was an addict by the time he turned fourteen. When he was in junior high, the neighborhood we lived in was really starting to go downhill. So it was no big surprise he got mixed up with a gang. A lot of kids did.”

He shook his head. “Ma tried to talk my dad into moving out of the neighborhood to a safer place, but Pop grew up there and he had the attitude that he wasn't going to let any scumbags scare him away from his home.”

“I can understand him feeling that way,” Annie said.

“I do, too. But it's not easy keeping a kid straight in that atmosphere. Once they're caught up in the culture…” He shrugged. “When you get right down to it, my brother was just another statistic.”

“Don't say that.”

His jaw clamped tight. “After Pete died, they arrested his gang's supplier. A patrol officer who worked our neighborhood. A guy everybody looked up to. I guess that's part of the reason that I chose to work narcotics. Because of my brother.”

Because he'd wanted revenge, like she did for her mother. No wonder Joe understood her so well.

“I didn't hesitate to go after guys who used their badge for the wrong reasons.”

Lowering her head, she kissed the thick white mark that pocked his chest. “It must've been horrible for you and your parents, losing your brother like that.”

“I was old enough to see where he was headed. I should've done something.”

“Nineteen is still a boy, Joe. A boy can't be expected to save the world.”

He didn't respond, and in the short silence that followed she thought of the woman who had been attacked on his guard, an incident he obviously blamed on himself. “Neither can a grown man,” she said. “You aren't responsible for everyone, Joe.”

He closed his eyes again. “I know that.”

Annie laid her head on his chest. After awhile, she felt Joe relax and he began rubbing her back. She didn't believe him. He
did
feel responsible. Even for her. “You're not responsible for me, either,” she said quietly.

His hands stilled, and after a long stretch of silence, he said, “What happened between us tonight…you may not believe it right now, but you'll probably regret it some day. When that day comes, you'll hate me.”

She flinched, lifted her head. “I could never hate you. Why would you say that?”

He cradled her face between his palms, scattered kisses across her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. “I couldn't stand it if you got hurt because of me, Annie. I couldn't stand for you to hate me.”

“I won't get hurt,” she whispered, her throat closing. The hopelessness in his tone, the inevitability, frightened her. “Be with me because you want to, not because you think I can't take care of myself. I've dealt with that enough all my life.”

He wrapped his arms around her, held her. “Let's get some sleep. We have a long day ahead tomorrow.”

Annie sighed, caught between the contentment she felt in Joe's arms and the worry his words inspired. “I don't want to think about tomorrow. I just want you to hold me.”

 

T
HE DISTANT BUZZ
of a motor stirred Joe to consciousness. He tried moving his hand but couldn't feel it. And then he remembered…Annie.

Joe opened his eyes. Sunlight filtered through the snow-encrusted window. The glass sparkled like a sheet of tiny diamonds. When he moved, Annie moaned quietly against him. He reached down and felt on the floor for his clothes.

“Annie, I think someone's coming. We'd better get dressed.”

Yawning, she tugged the coat to her chin and sat up, her hair forming a pale, tangled halo around her sleep-lined face. She blinked, then widened her eyes. “Willis?”

“I doubt it's him.” Joe twisted his legs around and sat up. “If he followed us off the exit, he probably got stuck, too.”