Sex & the Single Girl (15 page)

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Authors: Joanne Rock

BOOK: Sex & the Single Girl
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“No more running.” The certainty in her voice sprang from some place deep inside her. Some secret well of her soul she hadn't known existed. She might not know how they would work around her fear of his
job once their feet hit the floor, but she knew damn well she intended to try.

His eyes darkened at her words, his gaze narrowing a split second before he leaned closer. “No more running.”

If Aidan planned to issue the words as a command, they lost some of their intimidation in his husky, whispered delivery. But they didn't lose their power to sway her.

Brianne melted into him as Aidan's palms cupped her breasts, squeezed her gently between his hands as he caught her lips to his for a kiss. He tasted like the ocean, clean and salty. She clung to his arms for fear she'd drown in him. Whereas other kisses they'd shared had been about a seesaw battle for control, this kiss was all about surrender.

His. Hers.

Theirs.

Brianne's knees weakened with it, allowing Aidan to draw her down to the floor with him. She lay on the new carpet, welcomed the warmth of Aidan's tall body stretched over top of her. Heedless of their surroundings, she didn't care that her office lacked the sensual appeal of the harem or the urgency factor of making love on her desktop.

She could have been anywhere and it wouldn't have mattered. Her interest lay solely in this man and not in any extraneous trappings of silk or satin.

She wanted
him.
Aidan Maddock.

And she'd gladly stretch out on the floor of the office for the chance to feel his body against her, the chance to welcome him inside her.

Aidan's hands cupped her face, combed through her hair, delved into the neckline of her dress. His fingers lacked the teasing skill of their other couplings. Tonight his touch possessed an awkwardness, a needy possessiveness that she felt too.

Together they managed to discard Aidan's trousers, his briefs. Aidan didn't bother removing her dress, settling instead for peeling away her panties and lifting her hem.

He'd found a condom from somewhere—bless him—and he was prepared to protect her even here, on the floor of her office.

She loved that about him. That nobility, the steadfast sense of honor that ran through his veins despite his unconventional ways. No backwards baseball cap or cut-off Harley shirt could disguise the upstanding principles that had attracted her to him from the first time they'd met.

All traces of awkwardness disappeared when Aidan's hands pressed against her thighs to nudge her legs wider. She stared up at him above her and read the intent in his eyes.

Simple. Primal.

Immediate.

She barely had time to process the import of that moment, the subtle warning they were crossing a line, when he lowered himself to his elbows and brought them nose-to-nose.

The heady heat of his body notched up her own temperature by another couple of degrees. The sea-blown scent of him made her want to bury her nose in his shoulder, taste and explore every inch of him.

He edged himself inside her as his tongue lay claim to her mouth. The possession was swift and total and Brianne clung to him with all her strength.

Other times when they'd made love she had held a part of herself back, some deep-seated sense of self she had never been willing to share with anyone. But now she allowed herself to let go, to give everything she had to this moment, this man.

The risk of losing herself loomed, yet she refused to let fear rule her. Refused to run away.

As his lips trailed kisses down her neck and called up shivers all over her skin, Brianne vowed tonight she would claim Aidan every bit as much as he claimed her.

Aidan nipped and tasted Brianne's soft flesh as his fingers flexed into the low pile carpet beneath them. He prayed for some last vestige of restraint to rein him in before he slid under the seductive spell of Brianne totally. Completely.

Never to surface again.

Her body clenched around his as sweat popped out along his brow. Struggling to hold himself back for just a little longer, he knew damn well his release this time would leave all other experiences in the dust.

He'd had better control last night in the harem hotel room when he'd been underneath Brianne and at her mercy. But then, that time had been all about doling out sensual experiences and seeing who could still walk away at the end without turning bow-legged.

Tonight didn't have a damn thing to do with sex or sensuality or playing provocative games. From the mo
ment he'd kissed Brianne, this night had been all about surrender.

His pending, hers already given in the most humbling moment of his life. Somehow he got more than he bargained for in pushing her.

One minute he'd been lying over her, dying to taste her, needing to be inside her. And the next minute she'd given him everything he'd wanted and more, opened herself to him in a way no woman had.

Not even his wife.

This was different. Bigger. Scarier.

Her breathy moans in his ear called him to join her as her nails grazed his back. Some sane portion of his brain told him he'd be crossing a point of no return, but his every instinct strained to surrender right back. To lose himself in her as totally as she'd lost herself in him.

He hadn't undressed her all the way, hadn't taken her to new heights of pleasure, hadn't touched her with a lover's skill. Instead he'd been too hungry simply to
join
them. Bond them.

Even as the import of that daunting realization washed over him, he was powerless to find that damned elusive last remnant of control.

Brianne wriggled and nudged, kissed and licked him. She closed her eyes and wrapped herself more tightly around him, a feat he wouldn't have thought possible two seconds prior. Her nails dug lightly into his shoulder and he knew the little crescent moon marks would remain there tomorrow.

And still those tender jabs weren't nearly enough to haul him back to sanity.

Knowing he didn't have a choice, hoping he could make it up to her later, he simply shifted between her thighs and buried himself all the deeper.

As his hoarse shout mingled with Brianne's, Aidan knew his surrender had been every bit as complete as hers.

 

F
EAR SET IN
as the morning light filtered through the blinds in Brianne's office to tickle Aidan's eyelids. After they'd made love a second time—and a third—he'd slept fitfully for an hour or so on the floor beside her.

He'd told himself over and over that he'd be able to handle the reality of a relationship between them. He'd pursued it, pursued her even when she'd asked him for distance. After all, he'd been married before. And while that relationship had exploded in his face, it hadn't soured him on the idea of commitment.

Except what he and Brianne had experienced hadn't felt like simple commitment. No, they'd touched something bigger and—though it made him realize what a crappy husband he'd been to Natalie—more important.

Staring down at Brianne cradled in the crook of his arm, he realized two things. First, he'd underestimated her power to get under his skin. Second, he'd overestimated his ability to handle his feelings for her.

Not that he couldn't handle it, necessarily.

He just decided Brianne's idea of a little distance hadn't been such a bad idea. It had probably been a fantastic idea, he'd simply been too determined to have his own way to realize it.

Reaching down to stroke her face, Aidan smoothed an errant lock of auburn hair trailing over her cheek.
Tenderness for this woman stole through him even as he realized he couldn't stay here with her. Not now. Not today.

As the morning light called to him, urged him to get a move on, he told himself that he simply needed to return to his case. Shoving to his feet, he moved carefully around Brianne, not wanting to wake her. Not ready to talk to her just yet.

Gently he scooped her off the floor and lay her on the leather couch in her office. Her brow furrowed as he moved away from her but she didn't waken.

As he penned her a note he explained that he was at a crucial point in the investigation. That much was the truth. He couldn't afford to remain with Brianne while Melvin plotted his next move.

But deep inside he acknowledged his own relief at having the safe out. Because no matter how much he'd told himself he could handle the next step between him and Brianne, the reality of taking their relationship to the next level in the wake of last night had him second-guessing himself.

He'd screwed up his marriage and although the regret and the sense of loss had torn him up, he'd managed to move on and reconstruct his life. Stay positive.

If he committed himself to Brianne, the tough-as-nails firecracker who had surrendered herself to him on every level, he knew the stakes would be a hell of a lot higher.

The cost to his heart might be more than he could risk.

14

S
O SHE HADN'T BEEN
showered with roses the morning after her surrender of heart, body and soul to Aidan. So what?

Prowling around the bedroom of her Palm Beach house the next day, Brianne punched a fist through each armhole of the slim black sheath dress she'd chosen for her meeting with her mother. She assured herself there were worse ways to wake up than with a note shoved between the office couch cushions.

Offhand, she couldn't think of any.

But surely if she quizzed her partners in Club Paradise they could think of a scenario or two. Lainie alone could probably supply her with enough morning-after horror stories to make her feel grateful Aidan at least left a note.

He'd written something about needing to work on his investigation today and she could buy that. What she failed to understand as she rummaged through her closet for just the right shoes was why he had to leave without telling her face-to-face.

And he had accused
her
of being scared?

Hah! At least she'd stuck around long enough to tell him she'd been scared. Aidan had probably left tire
tracks on Ocean Drive in his haste to run at the first sign of deep emotion.

No matter. Slipping into a pair of funky black mules with tiny silver studs on the heels, Brianne figured if his fears about a relationship between them were anything like hers, they'd be temporary. Surmountable.

Or so she hoped.

If his concerns ran deeper than that, she might have chased him away by allowing him to glimpse a bit of her heart last night. She'd be hurt, but she wouldn't let that sway her from her course.

Spritzing herself with a tiny shot from her perfume bottle, she rushed around the bedroom picking up strewn clothes and trying to restore a little order to a life—and house—gone haywire. Regardless of how Aidan felt, she needed to get her act together, starting today. She'd been wary of men long before Jimmy Vanderwalk and the ensuing harassment, but she'd allowed her experience with him to push her even farther behind the safe walls of her high-tech world. She'd made it such a mission to keep herself secure, to control her world in spite of a man who wanted to invade it with phone calls and poems and threats. Aidan's suggestion that she try life in the real world had made her realize how far she'd retreated.

But as of today, there would be no more hiding behind her camera lens or a computer screen. No more hiding behind her glasses when she went to Pauline's house.

She purposely left the velvet case containing the black frames on her nightstand as she headed for the door.

Later, she would think about Aidan. For now as she drove the few blocks down the palm-tree-lined streets that separated her house from her mother's, she planned to concentrate on overcoming a few fears of her own. Before she could ever get involved with any man, she needed to make an effort to talk to Pauline. First she had to assure herself she wasn't turning into her mother, and then—with any luck—she needed to convince Pauline to quit hanging out with dangerous guys.

Maybe they could enter their own twelve-step program together. Because as much as she wanted Aidan, she also knew his job would make her insane. Scare her into thinking up frightening new scenarios for how he might get hurt while chasing bad guys.

As she sat at a stoplight, Brianne allowed her head to drop on to the steering wheel of the sleek black Lexus she'd bought for herself when she'd left New York. She knocked her forehead against the cushioned leather twice before the light turned green.

One thing at a time, she counseled herself, wishing she could remember some of the wisdom from the documentary she'd made about dangerous men and the women who love them. First, she'd worry about her own issues, then she'd figure out what to do about Aidan.

As she turned down her mother's street and spied Aidan's car parked two doors down from Pauline's house, however, Brianne realized she would have to confront that issue sooner than she'd thought.

Because the dangerous man she'd been in the pro
cess of falling for was apparently making visits to her mother on the sly.

He was already out of his car and headed for Pauline's as Brianne drove closer, his tall, muscular body and dark good looks a sight to behold even when she was miffed. No, make that angry.

Hadn't it occurred to him to mention in his note that while he was working on his case it just so happened that he'd be hanging out at her mother's house today? She parked the Lexus right behind his Ford and hopped out of the sedan, her high heels tapping in double time on the suburban sidewalk as she caught up with him.

Aidan turned, his body swiveling enough to give her a quick glimpse of the gun tucked into his waistband underneath his suit jacket. He had the FBI-guy look down to a T between the blue suit and the shades. Only the narrowly trimmed beard and mustache detracted from the image.

“You can't be here.” He shook his head, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Well, that's a mighty fine greeting, lover.” She realized she was scrambling behind comfortable defenses by shooting off that attitude. But damn it, his reaction hurt.

Hadn't last night touched him at all?

“I'm serious, Brianne. You need to get in the car and drive away.” The smooth, unwavering tone of his voice put her on guard.

“Is my mother in danger?” When his response didn't come immediately, she felt the punch of fear clear to her toes. “I'm not leaving if she might be in trouble.”

“She's not in trouble.” He looked back up at Pauline's house over one shoulder. “But having you here will only complicate things.”

“You think I have a
choice
about walking away now? Welcome to the world of deep emotions, Aidan. You might fight them, but I'm not going to anymore.” She planted her feet on the concrete and mentally dared him to shove her aside. “She's my mother and I'm not leaving.”

Pauline might have her idiosyncrasies, but she'd done her best to be a good mother. Brianne wouldn't let her get ensnared in some mysterious FBI operation without a little backup. Her mother would probably evade all the questions that struck her as too blunt and end up arrested for obstructing justice.

She watched Aidan's jaw tighten and wished she could see behind those dark sunglasses to his eyes. Didn't he realize he'd have to tie her to the streetlamp to make her stay put when her mother could be in trouble? Not wanting to give him any ideas, she kept the information to herself.

Aidan knew he couldn't take the time to deal with Brianne right now and he couldn't afford a big scene. He could see by the expression on her face, the stubborn tilt of her chin that he'd have a major battle on his hands if he tried to keep her away anyhow.

And valuable time ticked by while they debated the issue.

“Fine. But you follow my lead. Stay back. And run like hell if I tell you to.” He didn't anticipate trouble. Brianne and Pauline should be long gone by the time Mel put in an appearance—if he showed up at all. Ac
tually crossing paths with one of Florida's Most Wanted here in a quiet, upscale Palm Beach neighborhood was a long shot, but Aidan refused to take chances.

He waited until she nodded, then resumed his trek up the sidewalk toward her mother's house and the cluster of artsy topiary bushes in a potted grouping around the front door. Ever since Jackson told him Mel actively sought someone to move his money around, Aidan had been concerned about Pauline.

The most logical choice of people to make the big withdrawal Mel needed would be the person whose name appeared on all the paperwork—Pauline Wolcott-Baxter-and-so-on. Mel had never resorted to crimes that involved physically hurting other people before, but desperate men could be unpredictable.

For that reason, Aidan knocked on the door while he kept Brianne behind him. When Pauline didn't answer the second time, Brianne reached around him to try the door herself.

Her long, lean body grazed his as she stretched, reminding him of how much they'd shared last night. Positive this wasn't the time for those kinds of thoughts, Aidan ruthlessly shoved them to the back of his mind while she nudged the door open.

“That is definitely not following protocol,” Aidan whispered over his shoulder. “I've got rules to follow for these kinds of situations, Brianne.”

“This is my mother's house,” she whispered back. “I'm going in now because you've got me worried. And don't try to pretend you're Mr. By the Rules at
this late stage of the game. I know you too damn well for that.”

She had him there. But then, he wouldn't have allowed Brianne within a mile of him today if he'd been following procedure to the letter. Her presence on today's investigative efforts marked the biggest bending of the rules so far.

Damn.

He didn't like this one bit. Where was Pauline?

Ruthlessly shoving Brianne further behind him he edged his way into her mother's house. Slowly. Carefully.

All the while he padded with silent feet into the foyer he told himself this investigation would not go up in flames like his last bout with Melvin Baxter. He knew what he was doing now. And any rule-breaking he engaged in happened only because he'd grown experienced enough to know when and how to ignore the rules.

He sure as hell wouldn't make a rookie mistake like allowing his feelings for a woman to cloud his judgment, would he?

As he rounded the corner of the foyer to peer down the hall, he found nothing. No one.

He sensed more than heard Brianne's breathing picking up pace behind him. Turning to meet her gaze, he told her silently to stay put. Miraculously, she did what he wanted, freeing him to search the house with quick, silent efficiency.

Nothing.

As he wound around the silver teacart that still stood
in the middle of the parlor back toward Brianne, he noticed she wasn't where he'd left her.

Shit.

Fear iced through him as his feet picked up speed.

He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her because he hadn't been able to tell her no—

And then there she was. Poised at the threshold of French doors lining the back of the dining room. Staring out over her mother's garden.

Her eyes cut to his, her wide green gaze full of surprise, maybe a hint of fear. He joined her at the window to see what had caught her attention, determined nothing would frighten her for so much as a second as long as he was around.

Sliding into place in front of her—ready to protect her from anything, be it a garter snake or one of Melvin's lackey crook friends—Aidan found Pauline.

Engaged in a lip lock hot enough to generate sparks, Pauline was barely visible from the man who seemed determined to perform a tonsillectomy then and there.

Although the guy's face was partly obstructed from view thanks to an overgrown hibiscus plant, there were only so many men in the state of Florida who wore a three-piece seersucker suit with a Panama hat and a gold watch large enough to give Big Ben a run for the money.

Melvin Baxter.

Aidan wanted to cheer himself hoarse at his good luck. If only Brianne weren't smack dab in the middle of the upcoming arrest.

“Stay here.” He mouthed the words even though a pane of leaded glass separated them from the estranged
couple who appeared to be settling their differences in record time. “Your mother will be fine.”

Easy for him to say, Brianne thought as her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and dread. She stared back at him in the obnoxiously cheery sunlight of Florida at high noon, knowing her mother was about to come face-to-face with one of the most blunt, unhappy truths of her life.

She wanted to tell Aidan something. Be kind. Be careful. But he was already slipping out the door and out of her reach, entering a world of danger she'd never understand.

Sunlight glinted off the polished steel in his right palm as he sprinted over the lawn and vaulted a row of foxgloves.

His gun.

The knot of fear that had started the moment she saw her mother kissing Melvin tightened into a sharp ache of pain centered in her chest. She ached for her mother. For Aidan. Maybe even a little bit for Mel who had shown her nothing but kindness in the years that he'd lived in her home, in all the time she'd called him daddy.

It hurt to see the man she'd made love to with heart and soul last night draw a gun on her mother and her long-ago father.

The hurt grew into full-fledged panic when Mel finally noticed Aidan and shoved her mother away with both hands. Brianne's feet moved without her conscious permission, running out the French doors toward the scene on the lawn. Toward her fallen mother.

She saw Mel duck into the thick planting of hibiscus
bushes that towered at least eight feet tall. Saw Aidan shout a warning to his adversary although her heart pounded too hard to discern the words as she reached her mother and knelt by her side.

She heard the gunshot all too clearly.

The sharp crack split the air, sending Pauline into Brianne's arms and Melvin out of the hibiscus hedge, hands raised in surrender.

Unharmed.

Thank God.

Brianne hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until it all whooshed out her lungs in a rush. She collapsed against her mother who already clung to her for all she was worth. Pauline's tears bathed her arms while they watched Aidan handcuff Mel and talk to him in a voice too low for them to hear.

“He caught me off guard,” Pauline whispered through tears. “I didn't want him here. And I told him I couldn't go to the bank with him like he asked. Then he kissed me.” Cheeks flushed, she blinked up at Brianne. Her neat twist at the back of her head had come unwound. “I shouldn't have let him kiss me, but I thought he just wanted to say goodbye.”

Knowing Melvin, Brianne had the feeling the kiss stemmed from a desire to cajole more than any honorable notion of walking away. But she murmured only comforting words to her mother, not wishing to upset her further.

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