She Can Tell (31 page)

His gaze dropped to her mouth. He leaned over her, the warmth of his breath passing over her cheek. Anticipation buzzed in her blood as his lips hovered. She already knew how the kiss would make everything but their bodies fade into the background.

She couldn’t wait. She wanted him now. Before he had a chance to think about all the ways she was lacking. All the reasons they shouldn’t do this.

Impatient, she rose onto her toes to meet his mouth. The heat of contact was just as searing as she’d remembered. Her pulse kicked, desire a drug pumping thick through her veins. His hands didn’t move, but stayed at his sides while hers roamed over his wide chest. Skin. She wanted no barriers between them.

Mike’s hands were quiet, but his lips were doing plenty, traveling in a hungry journey down her jaw to the sensitive flesh of her neck. His tongue traced the hollow of her throat
and cruised across her collarbone. Desire speared her to the core. Rachel shuddered, and a deep masculine groan rumbled from his throat.

She lifted the hem of his tee and—

Holy moly.

Why did this man ever wear a shirt? She tugged the cotton over his head and flung it aside. His bare torso was rippled with layers of defined muscle. If somebody were making a Hottest Police Chief’s fund-raising calendar, his shirtless photo should be the freaking centerfold. Huge shoulders blended into a broad chest. His abs were hard ridges that tapered in a mouthwatering V to powerful hips. Her fingers traced the valley down the center of his torso to his flat belly. When she stroked the line of hair that disappeared into his slacks, he flinched. His mouth bore down on hers again, his tongue plunging into her mouth, his body vibrating. The hands held at his sides clenched tight enough to turn the knuckles white.

He-Man was holding back, but he was on the brink of losing control. What would it take to drive him over the edge?

Her mouth tasted like strawberries as Mike licked his way inside. God, she was hot and sweet and there was so much more of her he wanted to taste.

Rachel’s hands explored the muscles of his chest, those delicate fingertips stroking his skin. He felt like a prized stallion and was a little disturbed at how much of a turn-on that was. But her eager hands and the little noises of appreciation she was making as she undressed him were taking him to the brink.

He wanted to pull her down to the tile floor, strip every stitch of clothing from her body. The sheer violence of his
desire held him back. He’d seen her bruises and X-rays. She was half his size. He eyed her slender hand sliding down his belly. Maybe less. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She didn’t hesitate. “You won’t.”

His heart leapt at the certainty in her voice.

Her hands were already at the snap on his jeans. Eager for her touch, his hips surged forward. He stilled her hand. “Whoa, slow down.”

“Don’t wanna.” She pressed into him, her soft spots cradling the hand angles of his body in perfect contour.

Heart thrumming, Mike unclenched his fists and took hold of her hips. One hand slid round to splay on her lower back and gently urge her closer, creating more sweet pressure against his erection.

Not that she needed any encouragement. She had one leg up and wrapped around his thigh. She was practically shimmying up his body.

He looked around. Counter, tile, wall. All hard surfaces.
Not in the kitchen, you idiot.

Mike wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs and lifted her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He sealed his lips to hers. Mouths fused, he carried her into the bedroom. Daylight filtered through the miniblinds, striping the bed with light.

The second he set her down next to it, her eager hands were at his pants again. Like she couldn’t wait to get her hands on him. But he’d like this event to last longer than a breath mint, and she was still wearing all her clothes.

He lifted his head. “Oh no. Your turn.”

He unzipped her hoodie, slid it off her shoulders, and tossed it. Mike’s fingers went to the buttons of her shirt. He spread the fabric. Underneath she wore a dark fitted tank instead of a bra. The material was thin, and her nipples
budded through. He brushed a thumb across her breast but was distracted by the long ropey scars that ran up her biceps and across her shoulder. The pain she must have endured twisted him inside and gave him pause. No wonder she wasn’t impressed with mere bruises. He pressed his mouth to the marks, turning her to view the purple patches left by yesterday’s fall. She was tough on the outside, but soft and surprisingly vulnerable when those layers were peeled away.

Breathing hard and obviously irritated, she pulled away. “Could you get back with the program here? I’m fine.”

She stepped away and, biting back a wince, lifted the tank over her head. It hit the miniblinds with a metallic chink. Her breasts were small but perfectly formed, the rosy tips budded in desire. She wiggled out of her jeans and panties in the next second.

Oh, man.

Getting back with the program, Mike dispatched his own jeans and boxers in record speed and reached for her with the intention of easing her onto the bed, mindful of the purple tie-dye she was sporting. But she was pushing him down and climbed on top of him in all her naked glory. Her mouth was everywhere. In a frenzy of hands and lips and tongue, she moved up his body. Mike had soft skin under his hands and breasts in his face and heat exactly where he wanted it.

Whoa!
He slid back a few inches. “Wait…condom.”

He rummaged frantically through the nightstand drawer. Oh, shit. When
had
he bought condoms last?
Please don’t be expired.

His hand closed around a box. He pulled out a brand spanking new package. A Post-it note on top read, “You owe me,” in Sean’s square print.

Mike ripped open the box and dug out a foil square. Rachel was straddling his legs and, oh geez, she took him in her mouth.

Pleasure speared through him and grabbed him by the balls. No, wait. That was her hand. He arched off the bed.

He gave her ponytail a playful tug and pulled the elastic band loose. Dark, silky hair spilled around her shoulder.

“Get up here,” he said in a hoarse voice he barely recognized. She lifted her head. A wicked gleam lit those fiery amber eyes as she crawled up his body once again.

She took the foil pack from his hand and ripped it open with her teeth. While she concentrated on rolling it down on him, Mike took her brief moment of stillness to slide a hand between her legs. Slick softness met his touch. Rachel paused to throw her head back and rock against his hand. Mike’s sheathed erection twitched.

She was on him in a second.

Part of Mike wanted to say, “Wait. This is too fast.” But not the strongest part, obviously, because the protest died in his throat. He was only human, and she was naked and rising over him. His capacity for rational thought had taken off on a distance run. Mike grabbed her hips to steady her as she took him into her body. She paused, their size difference acutely obvious.

Mike fought for control. His arms shook, not from the effort of holding her aloft, but from the strain of holding himself back. His body was screaming to flip her over and take her. The thought of hurting her kept him still.

She shuddered as she focused on lowering her body onto his. Head kicked back, eyes closed, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her body adjusted, and she slid down, closing around him like an almost unbearably
tight, hot vise. His vision clouded, and the air left his lungs. Sensation simply swamped him.

Never in his life…

Mike would have savored the moment, but Rachel didn’t even take a second to breathe. Gleaming with sweat, she moved in a rhythm that wasn’t going to last long for either of them. She moved faster. Way too soon, Mike felt his own release coiling.

He tried to slow the furious pumping of her hips. Mike intended to have more than a quick bang with this woman, but there was no slowing her. Oh well. They’d just have to do it again. Maybe once she’d taken the edge off, he could make love to her properly. Despite the manic pace she was setting, he could still make sure she knew there was more to this than just sex.

“Rachel.” He stroked a hand up her sleek flank. His palm slid past her ribcage, over her breast, and cupped her cheek. “Look at me.”

Her eyes opened. Their amber depths were glazed with pleasure and an emotion Mike couldn’t verbalize but could identify with, a mirror image of the feeling building in his own chest. It filled the empty spaces inside him with frightening speed. Her breath caught. Her eyelids fluttered.

“No. Don’t close your eyes.” He held her gaze as she bucked with her release and pulled him over with her. Blinding pleasure rushed through him. After his vision cleared and he’d recovered the ability to breathe, he sat up and planted a soft kiss on her mouth, both hands splayed on the small of her back.

Shock clouded her eyes, and pure vulnerability shone from her face. She moved off him. A chill replaced the warmth where their bodies had been joined.

He ran his fingers up her spine. “Hey there.”

Something wasn’t right. Oh, it had felt amazing. No question. The most intense—albeit quickest—sex of his adult life. Energetic didn’t even come close to describing it. But her reaction to it sent a fresh wave of fire through his gut. Her retreat wasn’t only physical.

“Can I use your shower?”

“Uhm. Sure. But I wasn’t done with you yet.” Mike made a grab for her, but she was already off the bed. She scooped up her clothes and bolted into the master bath.

“What’s wrong?” Mike lunged after her. The door closed and the lock clicked before he reached it. He banged a fist on the door. “Rachel?”

The shower faucet squeaked and water rushed on tile. Rachel didn’t answer.

“Shit.” He stepped back. He padded naked into the hall bathroom. A quick shower and fresh clothes didn’t make him feel any better. In the kitchen, he swigged directly from the antacid bottle. It didn’t, couldn’t help either. Because this problem wasn’t a medical condition. He was falling in love with Rachel.

He went back into the bedroom and stared at the bathroom door. If she hadn’t locked him out, he’d be in that shower with her. Blake Webb’s words echoed in Mike’s head.
Rachel isn’t capable of falling in love.

The shower turned off. Despite his reservations about her emotional availability, Mike pictured Rachel wet and naked.

A soft rap at the front door severed his train of thought. Mike left the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He glanced through the sidelight before opening the door to Sean. One supersized SUV sat in the driveway, another at the curb. Through the tinted glass, Mike could see one of Sean’s men at the wheel. A patrol car was parked at the
curb. Behind his friend, Pete was walking up the drive. A file was tucked under his arm.

Pete followed Sean into the house. “I copied the old case file for you.” Pete tossed his hat onto the dining table and pulled out a chair.

“Great.” Sean held up a bulging gold clasp envelope. “I have that other information you asked for. Maybe among the three of us, we can identify Rachel’s stalker and Harry’s killer.”

The Watcher slid the SD card into the slot on his computer. The new pictures loaded automatically. One by one the images appeared on his screen. Rachel walking across her lawn. Rachel working. Rachel escaping the bees he’d collected for her. How did she avoid getting stung? He scratched a welt on his arm. He hadn’t been so lucky.

He loaded photo paper into the printer and clicked the button. With a beep and a soft whir, the printer kicked into action. Images slowly emerged from the machine. He lined them up on his desk. In one shot she was looking directly at the camera. At him. Like she knew.

He opened his drawer, pulled out an old photo album, and opened it. The pictures of Barbara took his breath away. She’d been the only one to understand. The only woman he’d ever loved. The fact that she was gone forever bored a hole through his soul. He lifted a photo of Rachel. The resemblance was uncanny, enough to make the pit of his stomach quiver.

It didn’t matter.