Devil in Dress Blues (9 page)

“Good?” he murmured against her ear, before tracing the delicate lobe with his tongue.

“Oh, yeah,” she breathed.

He was positioned at the entrance to her body and it would take no more than one small movement to nudge his way inside, but it was suddenly important to him that Sara want him as much as he wanted her. Easing two fingers into her, he thrust them slowly in and out, and then caught her mouth with his own, using his tongue to imitate the movement of his hand. She groaned deeply.

Pushing her onto her back, Rafe came over her and began working his way down the length of her body with his mouth, while continuing to torment her with his fingers. She watched him through hazy eyes, her lower lip caught between her teeth. He licked her breasts, suckling first one nipple and then the other before moving lower, skating his tongue along her smooth stomach while his fingers worked strongly inside her. Her hips lifted into his hand, and when he reached her navel, he dipped his tongue inside before dragging his lips away to kiss the inside of one thigh. Then, as he continued to stroke her, he bent his head and touched his tongue to her clitoris. She gave a strangled cry and her hips bucked, but Rafe had no mercy. He continued to lave her with soft laps, while his fingers caressed her until she cried out and her whole body convulsed. Rafe felt her muscles contracting around his fingers, but he didn’t stop until he’d wrung every last shudder from her and she collapsed weakly against the pillow.

Only then did he come completely over her, using his knee to spread her thighs. He was completely jacked, but he still had enough sense to reach over and jerk open the drawer of his bedside table and pull out an unopened box of condoms. Watching her come apart had been a complete turn-on and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this hard for a woman. With hands that weren’t quite steady, he ripped the box open and peeled a condom from a foil packet.

“Okay?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

She gave a shaky laugh and drew him down. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “Am I still alive?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, and covered himself. “Let me show you.”

S
ARA HAD NEVER EXPERIENCED
an orgasm like the one Rafe Delgado had just given her. Heck, she’d never experienced a man like Rafe in her entire life. The reality of being with him eclipsed anything she had ever imagined. She’d thought she knew what it was like to be in a physical relationship, but Rafe had shattered those notions in less than fifteen minutes. What had taken her weeks to do in previous relationships, he’d coaxed from her in less than fifteen minutes.

A part of her thought she should feel some shame at having given him so much so soon, but another part of her wanted to give him even more. She wanted to give him everything, and take as much in return.

Her body still thrummed with sexual satisfaction as Rafe came over her and even in the indistinct light, she could see the tautness of his expression. With his black eyes and slashing brows, and the unyielding thrust of his jaw, there was something almost dangerous about him. He used his legs to nudge her own farther apart, and then there he was, hot and hard against her center, where she still throbbed from her orgasm. She held her breath as he pushed one of her knees wider, and then slowly surged forward, stretching and filling her.

Sara gasped and clung to his shoulders as he settled himself fully inside her. She flexed her inner muscles around his rigid length, and sucked in her breath as he ground closer, rubbing himself against her sensitized flesh.

“Oh, man,” he groaned, “that feels too good.”

Sara agreed. Nothing had ever felt as pleasurable as Rafe’s body moving inside her own. Even now, while she was sated and weak-limbed from her orgasm, she could feel tension coiling tightly where they were joined.

Dim light slanted in through his window, casting his features in partial shadow and emphasizing the hard angles of his cheekbones. He withdrew from her body and then sank back into her in a series of bone-melting thrusts that had her drawing her knees further back and hooking her heels into the small of his back.

He braced his weight on either side of her and bent his head to press a searing kiss across her mouth. Sara responded hungrily, tightening her thighs around his hips as she clutched at his shoulders. Rafe’s breathing grew harsh and his movements became more urgent. He thrust harder into her, until heat gathered where he stroked her and she could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building.

“I want you to come again.” Rafe’s voice was a low, sensual growl. He punctuated his command with another slow, deep thrust that caused Sara to give a breathless cry of startled pleasure.

Rafe’s hips moved faster and he bent his head to her shoulder, one hand slipping beneath her to grasp her buttock and urge her closer. He was everywhere; surrounding her and inside her, his breath mingling with hers and his heart pounding hard against her own. His skin was damp with sweat and his powerful muscles bunched with effort as he pumped into her.

“I can’t— I have to—” With a hoarse cry, Rafe drove into her one last time, and the raw need in his voice was enough to push Sara over the edge, as well. She arched upward, holding on to him for dear life as she fractured around him in a white-hot explosion of pleasure.

Several long moments passed as she lay beneath him, stunned and shaken. His heavy weight pinned her to the bed and she hugged him closer, savoring the feel of him. He turned his face and pressed his lips against her neck. Sara smiled. So this is what came of being assertive. It seemed her mother had been wrong, after all.

Some of the best things happened after midnight.

9

S
ARA WOKE TO THE SMELL
of freshly brewed coffee and the warmth of sunlight on her face. Opening her eyes, she lay disoriented for a moment, not recognizing her surroundings. Then she remembered.

Rafe, making love to her. Not just once, but twice. They’d fallen asleep after the first time, but she’d woken up just before dawn to the feel of him pressed warmly against her back and his hands slowly exploring her. She still couldn’t believe how quickly he’d aroused her. This time, he’d taken her from behind while she’d lain on her side, stroking her with his fingers as he’d filled her and pushed her over the edge. She had fallen back to sleep with him still inside her.

Sitting up, she realized she was still nude, and she dragged the sheet up to her neck. She needn’t have bothered. She was alone in Rafe’s bedroom. The blankets were rumpled and the pillow next to her still bore the imprint of his head. The door to the adjoining bathroom was open. He must have showered while she slept, because she could smell the soap that she was coming to associate with him.

She hadn’t gotten a good look at his room during the night, and now she glanced around with interest. His tastes were conservative and practical, and there was nothing out of place. No dirty laundry on the floor, even her flannel pajama bottoms and camisole had been laid across the foot of the bed. A stack of neatly folded shirts, still wrapped in protective plastic with a dry-cleaning tag attached, sat on his dresser next to several framed photos.

Dragging the sheet around her, Sara slipped from the bed and went to inspect. The first was of Rafe and an older woman. Judging from the resemblance, the woman had to be his mother. The second photo showed Rafe and three other men, all in their military dress blues.

Turning from the dresser, Sara opened the double doors of an enormous closet. Inside, Rafe’s uniforms hung side by side with civilian clothing and he had at least six pairs of military boots lined up on the floor. Next to these were several pairs of dress shoes that were polished to such a high sheen, Sara was certain she could have done her makeup in her reflection from them. Two duffel bags were stashed toward the back of the closet and judging from their size, they were packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Sort of like Rafe.

“Looking for something?”

Startled, Sara turned to see Rafe leaning in the doorway of the bedroom, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand. He watched her closely, and although she couldn’t detect any censure in his expression, he wasn’t exactly smiling at her, either.

“Sorry,” she murmured, closing the closet doors and clutching the sheet to her. “I was just being nosey.”

He came into the room and handed her the mug, and a ghost of a smile touched his mouth as he studied her. He wore a pair of jeans and a black shirt that gave him a slightly menacing appearance. She was acutely conscious of her own nudity.

“It’s fine,” he assured her. “I’ve been known to be nosey myself, on occasion.”

She knew it was an indirect apology for having gone through her purse and gave him a quick nod. Despite what they had shared during the night, he seemed remote and cool. A stranger. She didn’t know what to say or how to act, and bent her face over her coffee mug to hide her confusion.

“I’ll let you get showered and dressed,” he finally said. “Then we should probably talk.”

Slowly, Sara raised her gaze to meet his. His expression was unfathomable and she found it hard to believe he was the same man who, just hours earlier, had touched her so intimately. She nodded mutely and watched as he left, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he went.

After he was gone, she sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling bereft. Worse, she felt used. Rafe certainly hadn’t distanced himself from her during the night, but it seemed he couldn’t bring himself even to kiss her this morning. He’d probably been grateful that she’d still been asleep when he’d woken up, affording him the opportunity to escape.

Was this what a one-night stand felt like? If so, Sara decided this would be her one and only. She gave a huff of laughter. She’d been so determined to step out of her comfort zone and do something assertive, and the result was that she felt worse than ever.

R
AFE WAS LEANING AGAINST
the kitchen island scanning a newspaper and drinking his coffee when she finally came downstairs. He straightened when she came into the kitchen, his dark gaze sliding over her, and she knew he took in every detail of her appearance. She wore a pair of jeans and a black cashmere sweater that hugged her curves. She’d figured if he could wear black, then so could she. It was fitting actually.

“Hey,” she murmured, placing her empty mug in the sink.

“Sara—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she interrupted. Drawing a deep breath, she turned toward him and braced her hands on the sink behind her. Bracing herself.

He merely raised one eyebrow and waited.

Sara felt herself flushing but pushed determinedly on. “You’re going to say that last night was a mistake. You’re going to tell me that you’re not able to get into any kind of relationship right now, and you’re afraid that I might read more into what happened than what was there. Right?”

He frowned. “No, damn it. That isn’t what I was going to say.” Pushing away from the counter, he came around the island and stood in front of her, crowding her. “I was going to say that after last night, I don’t think I’m the best person to protect you from whoever is after you. I was going to say that because of last night, I can’t be objective about you.”

“Oh.” Sara blinked at him. “So…last night wasn’t a mistake?”

To her surprise, he laughed softly and slid a hand beneath her hair. “Oh, no, lady. I didn’t say that. Last night was definitely a mistake—a freaking huge mistake that I’d repeat in a heartbeat.”

“Oh.”
She searched his eyes, seeing that he was completely serious. Last night had meant something to him. Enough that he was admitting that she’d compromised his objectivity. “I thought—this morning—”

“I know,” he said, his voice husky. “But if I’d done what I wanted to do this morning, we’d still be in that bed.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She smiled, feeling the hard knot in her chest begin to loosen.

His hand massaged the nape of her neck. “I meant what I said, Sara. I can’t protect you if I’m emotionally involved.”

Emotionally involved.

Sara felt her heart thump hard. Was it possible that after just one night this hard man could really have feelings for her?

“So what are you suggesting?”

He dropped his hand. “I have a friend who lives in North Carolina with his wife. He’s Special Ops. You could stay with them for a week or so, until we get this figured out.”

Sara looked at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m dead serious.”

Sara pushed away from the sink and put both hands up to forestall him. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight. I am not going to North Carolina to stay with complete strangers. You were the one who suggested I stay with you for a week and I’m willing to do that. But there’s no way I’m going to North Carolina.”

“It wasn’t a request,” he said drily.

Sara drew in a deep breath and tipped her chin up. “If I can’t stay here with you, then I’m returning to my own apartment.” Rafe’s expression was dark enough that her stomach twisted with nerves. “I’m not going to North Carolina, and that’s final.”

“Sara—”

“I can help you find out who was following me,” she insisted. “Rafe, this is my life we’re talking about. Please, let me help you.”

He turned away and raked a hand over his short hair, clearly unconvinced. But at least he wasn’t giving her an unequivocal refusal. Emboldened, she reached out and laid a hand on his arm, feeling the steely muscles that corded his forearm.

“We’re not even sure these men are still after me,” she reasoned. “We don’t know for sure what they wanted yesterday when they followed me into the alley. We could be completely overreacting.”

His mouth tightened and he looked down at her hand on his arm. He looked as if he were debating with himself, and then finally he gave her a curt nod. “Okay. You’ll stay with me. But if at any time I think it’s too dangerous for you to continue to stay here, you’ll go to North Carolina. No arguments.”

“Rafe—” She started to protest.

“I’m not willing to compromise on this, Sara. Not when it comes to your safety.” His tone was unyielding. “You need to trust me on this.”

Sara nodded, recognizing that he was serious and relieved that he was willing to let her stay. She didn’t want to go back to her apartment. The thought of being there by herself after having spent the past hours with Rafe held no appeal. She especially didn’t relish the thought of being alone at night in her apartment. Even if Rafe decided they shouldn’t sleep together again, she’d rather be here than there.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll trust you.”

He gave her a slow smile that transformed his face. “Good. Now about last night…don’t you know it’s dangerous to creep around a man’s house wearing next to nothing, when he’s lying in bed fantasizing about you?”

Sara felt herself blushing as he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head to press a warm kiss against her mouth. She couldn’t help but respond, curling her fingers around the muscles of his arms and leaning into him. Too soon, he lifted his head.

His expression was rueful as he considered her. “I knew from the moment I saw you at the ball that you were trouble.”

“And yet you still agreed to meet with me,” she said, smiling.

He laughed. “Yeah. Little did I know that my training and background were no match for the weapons that you have at your disposal.” Then, as if he’d said too much, he turned away and opened the fridge and peered inside. “Hungry? I make a mean omelet.”

S
ARA SAT NEXT TO
R
AFE
on his sofa, the little planner open in her hands. They’d spent the past hour poring over the entries and trying to decipher the initials of the clients. Together, they’d drawn up a list of the male cabinet members in the White House, as well as those in Congress and the Senate. Rafe had a laptop across his thighs and was compiling a list of high-ranking military men, as well.

“Although, I wonder if we ought not to include females, too,” mused Sara.

“I did some checking,” Rafe said absently. “The Glass Slipper Club only caters to male clientele.”

“You did some checking?” Sara stared at him. “How? The club has been shut down.”

He slanted her a tolerant look.

“Okay,” Sara relented. “I get it. You’re covert operations. There isn’t anything you don’t know or can’t find out. Do I have it right?”

He flashed her a grin. “Pretty much.”

Sara leaned over and glanced at the list he was building. “Holy smokes. That’s a lot of names.” She checked her list of initials. “Some of these initials are so common that they could belong to anybody on that list. Or not on that list, for that matter.”

“Yes, but you also have some unusual combinations that shouldn’t be too difficult to match.” Leaning sideways so that his shoulder touched hers, he indicated a set of initials. “Take this one, for example. How many people could possibly have the initials W.W.?”

Sara frowned. “Those could belong to William Worthington, I suppose, although I can’t really picture him involved in something like this. Maybe they belong to Wes Wight,” she suggested, naming a popular political commentator.

“Read me an entry for W.W.,” Rafe suggested.

Sara thumbed through the pages of the planner until she found one. “Okay, here’s one: ‘W.W.—Dominant alpha. Likes bondage and rough play. Bring blindfold and silk stockings.’”

“My bet is on Worthington,” he said drily.

Sara made a face. “
Ew.
Why would you think that?”

Rafe shrugged. “Look at the guy.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. He’s a nasty little worm of a man.”

Rafe returned his attention to the laptop. “Exactly. He’s probably dominated by his wife, or maybe he feels worthless as a man. The Glass Slipper Club lets him play out his fantasies and let’s face it…” He cast her a roguish grin. “Who doesn’t fantasize about blindfolds and silk stockings?”

Sara’s breath caught at the wicked gleam in his dark eyes. She could picture it clearly—Rafe, bound naked to the bed with a blindfold over his eyes, while she tormented him with her hands and mouth.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I see what you mean.”

His gaze sharpened on her with interest. “Do you?”

Swallowing hard, Sara dragged her gaze from his and flipped through the planner again. “What about this one? ‘J.F.—Playful. Fun. Bring all the toys. Nothing too wild.’” She frowned. “I wonder if she meant that she shouldn’t bring anything too wild, or that nothing
is
too wild for J.F.?”

Rafe set the laptop aside and turned toward her on the sofa. A secretive smile lifted up the corners of his mouth as he watched her. “I’d say nothing is too wild. Bring it on, he’s game for anything.”

Sara tipped her head as she considered Rafe. “Now why would you guess that? Do you know this J.F.?”

Slowly, Rafe reached out and caught her around the waist and dragged her toward him until she was half lying across his lap. “No,” he murmured, studying her mouth, “but that’s what I would mean. Nothing would be too wild.”

“Ah.” Sara let her gaze drift over his face, taking in the color that rode high on his sculpted cheekbones and the languorous expression in his eyes. “What would Colette have written about you, I wonder, if you were a Glass Slipper client?”

“First of all,” he breathed in a husky tone, bending his head to nip playfully at her neck, “you’d never find my name on any client list. Paying for sex is not my idea of a good time.”

Sara laughed breathlessly and tipped her head to the side to allow him better access. She gasped as his tongue found the sensitive area behind her ear and had to struggle to focus. “Well then, what fantasy would you like to see fulfilled? Maybe I’ll add my own entry.”