Caught in the Act (The Davenports) (25 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

T
HE NUMBERS ON
the clock changed to 12:01. It was now tomorrow, and there had been no word from Brody.

No text, no call. No nothing.

Had something else happened?

She opened her balcony doors and stood in the center of the space. Her short gown whispered around her thighs as she stared out into the dark. The moon was out tonight, the clouds of the last couple of days having lifted, and the faint scent of roses from the gardens wafted through the air. It was a gorgeous night with the stars filling the sky.

Too edgy to sit, she grabbed her cell and moved to the balcony where she propped her elbows on the railing and frowned down at her phone.

It chimed in her hands.

She smiled as she quickly checked the message.

Still up?

Of course. I had reason to believe I could expect company.

Oh, you can expect company. Look down.

She glanced at her feet before realizing what he meant. Then she leaned out over the railing and peered into the yard.

And there he was. In the shadows of the pines.

Her heart quit beating.

“What are you doing down there?” she asked. “I have a front door. My security guys know to let you in.”

“Thank goodness for that, because at least one of your guys is huge. I think he might have ripped off my arms if he hadn’t known I was coming.”

“He has instructions to rip off the arms of trespassers.”

“Then thank you for sparing mine.”

She laughed and leaned farther over the railing. Euphoria filled her as she tried harder to see him. She wished he wasn’t standing so far in the shadows. “So if you met one of my guards, why didn’t you come in through the door?”

“Because you still have people in front of your house. He caught me sneaking in from the beach.”

Cat grinned. How romantic. “Seems I’m popular these days. I’ve been trailed everywhere this week, yet no one has been impressed with the actual work I’ve been doing out at the park. Nothing tabloid worthy.”

“Then we’d better not let them see this.”

“What?”

He moved out of the shadows, and her mouth fell open.

“What are you wearing?”

“A doublet,” Brody replied. “I picked it up at the playhouse tonight.”

Cat squinted as she tried to better make him out. A doublet? As in puffy sleeves and a “shirt” hanging to his hips? A brush of white waved in the air. “Is that a feather sticking out of your head?”

“Out of my hat.”

“And why, exactly, are you dressed in a doublet and a feathered hat?”

His teeth flashed in the dark night as he widened his stance and propped both hands on his hips. “Because I’ve come for my Juliet.”

“Brody,” she said his name with a laugh. He was dressed as Romeo. “You’re crazy.
This
is crazy. You could have been caught.”

“I don’t care. The only reason I
snuck
past the cameras was for you. So you didn’t have to deal with more tabloid pictures in the morning. But I couldn’t care less if every one of them got a shot of me like this. Coming for you.”

“You’re too much.”

“I’m just me.”

She nodded. He was. And she was so glad of that. Then she noticed something else about his costume and squinted again to better focus. “Are you wearing leggings?” she asked.

“They go with the doublet,” he said drily.

“You are completely out of your mind.”

He simply nodded.

She looked around, taking in her bedroom, her second-story balcony, and the shrubbery surrounding the house beneath her room. If he wanted to be romantic . . .

“Think you can make it up?” she issued the challenge.

The shrubbery rattled with his movements before she got her question out.

She laughed again. Brody had a way of making her do that. “Want me to hang something over the railing for you to grab on to?”

“Wrong story,” he muttered from somewhere underneath her. He followed his words up with a grunted “Ouch,” and several oaths. And then he was there. His hat had dropped from his head, but his eyes gleamed at her from between two curved posts.

He’d somehow scaled the side of her house, and he was now lifting himself the rest of the way up. He grabbed the top rail and hoisted himself over, and her knees went weak.

“Wow,” she murmured.

“Don’t you dare mock me,” he warned.

That move had been the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Mocking him was the last thing on her mind. She swallowed and lowered her gaze as she tried to catch her breath. Then she peeked back up. “But you’re in tights,” she teased.

“Leggings.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Because that’s so much manlier.”

He took a step closer. “It is romantic, though, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to the level that meant he was thinking about coming out of those leggings. And helping her out of her gown.

“I can’t believe you scaled my wall to see me.” She glanced around at the silent night. They were on the back side of the property, so chances were slim there were any cameras pointed at them. But even if there were, she didn’t care. She had Brody back. And that’s the way she wanted it.

“I would scale anything for you,” he said, his words turning sincere. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Three days is too long.”

“Three and a half.”

He gave a single nod. “Three and a half. Let’s not go three and a half again.”

She reached her arms out for him. “Kiss me, Brody. Now.”

So he did.

With their mouths fused together, he walked her backward into her room, his hands moving to her hips and her gown bunching in his grip. Then he yanked her forward, and she found her body fitting snugly to his.

He pressed into her. Everything about him was hard, everything about her needy.

As she pushed herself even closer, he moved them to the wall and they landed with a thud. She immediately wrapped a leg around his hip, moaning into his mouth as he took the kiss deeper.

When they came up for air, he pressed his cheek against hers. His breathing was rough.

“Oh geez,” he muttered. His fingers trailed over her throat. “I needed that.”

She nodded. “I need more.”

With a groan, he didn’t say another word. He simply kissed her again. This kiss was accompanied by his hands lifting her gown over her head and his teeth scraping along the top of her shoulder. She shivered as her gown sailed through the air. It landed with a whisper on the ground behind Brody.

“Nice gown,” he complimented, “but we don’t need it.”

He leaned back then, leering down at her in the faint light from the single bedside lamp she’d left on. “But we do need more light,” he determined.

She pointed to another lamp a couple of feet away, and with a click he had it on.

His gazed raked over her, all hot and steamy, and she shivered once again. The man had a way of touching her without laying a hand on her body. Then they both went to work. She attacked his shirt while he tugged off her panties. When his chest was bare, she leaned forward and put her mouth to his heated skin.

He hissed in a breath.

She licked his nipple, enjoying the salty tang of him, and slid her hands over his six-pack.

“I’m so sorry.” Brody brought her mouth back up to his. He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “I should have told you about Thomas. About your mother knowing who I was. You should have been prepared for this.”

“And I should have . . .”

She cut off her words by pressing her lips together. She had things to tell him, but she didn’t want to do it tonight. Not right then. First, she just wanted to feel.

Her breasts were heavy with desire, so she pushed into him. “Later,” she whispered. She cupped his cheek in her palm. “We’ll talk later. Right now, just make love to me. I need you.”

He nodded.

His eyes turned dark, and he kissed her again. This one was slower. It reached deeper inside her and tugged at all the parts she’d long ago locked away. It begged to be let in.

And then the kiss changed. Slow was good, but they both had too much pent-up need.

In seconds she gripped the elastic around his waist, ready to strip him bare. But she paused. She roamed her gaze down over him, taking in the black, skintight pants and the very impressive bulge coming from the front. The man knew how to fill out a pair of leggings.

As he watched her, she slid her palm over his erection. Then she squeezed. Just enough to make him groan out her name. He pulsed in her hand, and she automatically gripped him tighter.

“Please tell me there’s a condom somewhere in these ridiculous clothes,” she begged.

Brody’s fingers slipped inside the front of the material, returning with three small packages between his fingertips. “There’s a key pocket inside.”

“Good to know.”

She took one of the condoms and shoved the leggings down. But she changed her mind. Instead of immediately covering him with the protection, she covered him with her mouth.

The sound that ripped out of him told her she’d chosen right.

“Babe,” he growled as his hands landed in her hair. “I don’t think . . .”

His words cut off when her tongue stroked the full length of him. She held him in her hands, needing him inside of her, yet wanting to do this for him first. She’d missed him. And she was worried that she still might lose him. So she had to show him with her actions how much he meant to her.

She opened her mouth and sucked him in deep. This time he leaned forward and reached out for the wall.

“Shit,” he muttered as she heard a sound behind her. A picture tumbled from the wall, missing her back as he swatted at the frame. It landed on the small table beside them, sending the lamp to the floor with a crash.

The light blinked out and she smiled around his erection.

He groaned again.

She continued working him with her mouth. Her hands moved to his buttocks, the muscles there tight with control.

“Cat,” he begged. “You need to . . .”

She smiled again as he thumped his forehead to the wall and dropped his hands to her head. His fingers clenched in her hair.

“Baby,” he whispered hoarsely.

And only because she’d missed him so much—and was apparently selfish when it came to wanting her own pleasure—she slid her mouth along his length one last time. She flicked her tongue over the head, feeling his body shake in her arms, then she pulled back just far enough to roll the condom down over him.

The instant it was in place, he had her under her arms and was dragging her body up.

He didn’t stop when she was on her feet, but lifted her to her toes, holding her against the wall, and plundered her mouth with his. He dipped his head and drew a breast between his lips. Her back arched. She lifted her legs to his waist.

And he pushed inside her.

There was a second when neither of them moved as her body stretched around him. A breath slid out of both of them. Then her arms closed around his neck and his hands went to her butt.

He withdrew and quickly returned, slamming her against the wall.

Then he did it again.

Her body began to shake. She was going to be done that fast.

“I didn’t like not being with you,” he whispered harshly against her temple.

She nodded. Words weren’t possible.

“I’ve worried about you. I’ve missed you.” He kissed her possessively. “I’ve wanted you with me.”

He trapped her with his body and tugged on her hair so he had access to her throat. He nibbled, and he pumped harder inside her. And when she was right on the edge he slipped a hand between them and buried his fingers.

And she was gone.

He continued stroking himself in and out of her body as she flew, his hands once again bracing her hips to him, but he didn’t have his own orgasm. Somehow, he was stronger than that. His teeth were bared when she opened her eyes, though, and she could tell that he was hanging on by a thread.

“You good?” he asked, his words tight.

She gave a quick nod, and he separated them and pulled her to the balcony. She didn’t ask questions, merely let him maneuver her however he wanted her. He put her hands on the concrete railing and positioned her hips in front of his. And then he was in her again, entering her from the back this time, and she thought for sure she would combust.

A breeze blew over them, cooling her heated skin, and pointing out that they were out in the open where anyone could see. Or hear. Their voices could carry on the wind. The danger of it only added to the excitement. She moaned.

“Shhh,” Brody whispered. But he didn’t stop making love to her. He kept up a steady rhythm, his hands gripping wide around her hips as he buried himself over and over.

His fingers curved into her flesh as his movements slowed and became methodical. She softly begged him to go faster, but he didn’t. She writhed in his hands. He kept the pace slow. He was killing her.

“Brody,” she pleaded. One hand scraped up her spine until he gripped her shoulder in his fingers. Her nipples puckered and she tingled down below.

Her breasts jostled with each of Brody’s movements, and the cool air continued kissing her body. The mix of heat and sweat and the swirling breeze, the hint of flowers and the scent of the ocean, all combined in an erotic fashion. Not to mention Brody’s never-ending control over her body.