To Touch a Thief (An Everly Gray Novella) (8 page)

“Sp-spray on,” she stuttered. “Hose make me claustrophobic.”
 

Lowering his body over hers, he caught her mouth with his lips, exploring, tasting, and then moved back to look at her.
 

She laid her palm against his cheek, and lost track of everything but the love in his eyes. “Parker…” she breathed then pulled his mouth back to hers, and wild need flashed through her body.
 

He slid his hand along her bare thigh, pushing her skirt up, finding the edge of her lace panties. He toyed with her, sliding one finger under the lacey edge, then sat up. “Pink? No, don’t tell me. I need to see what I’m touching.”

She reached for his belt, her breathing unsteady.

Capturing her hand, he stopped her. “Not yet.”
 

The buttons on her blouse slipped free at his touch, and he followed the path of her bare skin with flicks of his tongue.
 

Her breath hitched, unsteady from his touch, and her heartbeat stumbled under his meticulous attention.
 

“I want you, Kitten.”
 

She braced her leg, pulled away from his hands, and shifted her body to straddle him. She’d never had so much power, and at the same time felt so helpless. Her fingers found the smooth expanse of his chest, and his breath came in rough gasps that made her tremble.
 

He skimmed the blouse from her shoulders, dropping it on the floor in a pool of snowy white.
 

Her camisole was thin and her nipples pebbled against the delicate fabric—it hadn’t been abrasive until now.

Parker didn’t rush to touch her breasts, but ran his fingers through her hair, playing with the spikey strands.
 

Until an unfamiliar whisper of sound cut into their sensual haze.

TEN

Jayne Hunt and Parker Steele

Parker stood, lifting Jayne,
then sliding her down his body until her feet were safely on the floor. She clung for a moment, then stepped back, the cool air a shock against her hot skin.
 

A swishing sound wandered through the air, faint like wisps of smoke.

She scooped her blouse off the floor and crushed it against her chest.
 

The bedroom door moved, a scant three inches, and then stopped.
 

Jayne’s pulse kicked up a notch and her stomach bottomed out. How could Parker be so still, his face calm, his arms and hands relaxed alongside his body?
 

He stepped in front of her, a smooth, calculated move. “What the hell?”
 

He inched forward, one step. Two.

Jayne twisted to peer around him. “Oh.” She dropped to the floor and stuffed her arms into the sleeves of her blouse.

A tiny, pink nose poked around the edge of the door, and bright green eyes focused on them. The door moved again uncovering a quivering bundle of gray fur, delicate white paws, and a fluffy tail.

Parker grabbed his champagne, muttered something under his breath, and downed several swallows.

Sensing his gaze, Jayne flicked a glance at him. “Quiet. We mustn’t scare it.”

He nodded, watching as she crawled toward the cat on her hands and knees, mumbling soothing nothings to the furry interloper.
 

“You have the most delightful wiggle I’ve ever seen.” Parker said, dropping to the floor next to her and running his hand over her bottom.
 

Her pulse jumped into her throat. “Delightful wiggle?”

“Yeah. Didn’t add those words to my vocabulary until I turned thirty-five. Old men can get away with more.”

She grinned. “Really? Well, then, thank you. Come closer and meet our new cat.”

“I had other plans for this evening.” He extended his fingers for the cat to sniff. With feline grace, the kitten gave a perfunctory head butt to Parker’s hand, then rubbed its body along Jayne’s thigh.

“An excellent idea,” Parker said, skimming his palm over her other thigh, and then he reached to scratch the cat’s ears. “He must have gotten in when your brother and Everly left.”

“Um-hmm.” She scooped the kitten into her arms. “I think this is the same little bundle of fur I rescued in the lobby. I wonder if it escaped from its box and followed me.”
 

Parker sat back on his heels. “I thought you didn’t care for cats.”
 

The fluffy feline balanced on its hind legs and rubbed noses with Jayne. “I don’t. Didn’t. This one seems to have wormed its way into my heart.” She held the cat away from her, checked its nether region. “He’s a boy. We have a boy, Parker,” she said with a grin.
 

“We, huh? Guess I better find some appropriate accessories for our new adoptee.” He plucked the fluff ball from Jayne’s arms and stood. “What’s your name?”
 

“Tell me you don’t expect him to answer.”

 
Parker winked. “Cats have a way of letting you know.”

Jayne began buttoning her blouse, but Parke’s gaze stopped her. “Don’t. I want to see you.”
 

His words shivered down her spine.
 

He handed her the kitten, brushing the back of his hand against her breasts. In a single movement, he spread the edges of her blouse open and tasted.
 

“Mmmurrrroow.”
 

“Hungry?” The single word left Jayne’s throat with a strangled murmur, and the kitten offered another meow.
 

“Me, too.” Parker’s gaze scanned her body, burning her from the inside out.
 

The kitten batted Jayne’s nose, and Parker backed away. “There might be some tuna in the pantry.”
 

It took but moments for him to open the can, empty it into a dish, and set it on the floor.
 

The kitten jumped from Jayne’s arms, leaving a faint red scratch where his claws fought for purchase, then he hunkered down and purred while he ate.
 

“Now, where were we before Winston decided to adopt us?” Parker asked, pulling Jayne into his arms.

“Winston?”

“Um-hmm.” Parker’s kiss consumed her, filling the empty spaces in her heart—the ones she didn’t know existed until the ache of loneliness disappeared under his touch.
 

Parker woke to a battery of tiny claws kneading his chest. “Not exactly how I planned to begin the day, Winston.”

The room was warm with the scent of their well-loved bodies…and…kitty breath. Jayne gathered Winston in her arms, nuzzled her cheek against his fur. “The sooner you feed him, the sooner we can get in the shower.”

He slid his hand under the covers and trailed his fingertips along the smooth skin of her abdomen. He’d waited so long to wake up next to Jayne Hunt, why the hell had fate dropped a kitten into the mix? “Your turn at feeding duty. I’ll start the shower.”
 

Jayne blew out a breath, bundled Winston against her chest, and headed for the kitchen.
 

The sway of her hips held Parker’s attention. She was walking along the thin line of his self- control—a line she couldn’t see, but would soon learn about in intimate detail.

Better make it a cold shower, old man, or you won’t survive the foreplay.

He grabbed several condoms, rolled out of bed, and turned the shower to
ice
. Full blast. By the time Jayne slid under the spray, he’d warmed the temperature, and was ready for her—in oh, so many ways. “I want you, Jayne. Wet and slippery.”
 

“My turn first.” She followed the droplets of water trailing down his chest with her fingertips, then with the tip of her tongue. His hands clenched with need. He pushed them flat against the shower wall hard enough to knot the muscles in his forearms, his gaze never leaving Jayne. The beauty of her arousal, flushed skin and soft lips, was almost his undoing.

She licked her lips in satisfaction, and reached behind him for the bottle of shower gel. The scent of spring rain permeated the shower as she squeezed it into her hand. “You, Mr. Steele, covered in foamy, white suds, are a sight destined to eliminate my inhibitions forever.”
 

They stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, then took turns drying each other. “I think,” he said, pulling his too-large robe closed around her, “that I need to invest in a larger hot water heater.”

“And I think I need to bring several changes of clothes to the office.”

He touched a fingertip to her lips. She licked. He hardened. “No.” Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that. Wanted to give her more time.
 

“No?” she echoed. Hurt shadowed behind her eyes.

He ran his hands through his hair, tugged. He was too old, too experienced to be botching this so badly. “That half of the closet—” he pointed behind her— “is empty. Waiting for you.”

A touch of panic flickered over her face. “Waiting?”

Be careful, Steele, or you’re going to lose her.

 
“Since the first day you strolled into Steele Management, all crisp and efficient.”

“You’ve…I’ve…well, we have Winston to think about. It will probably take both of us to raise him right. Especially since I don’t know a thing about cats.”
 

Back off and give her some space. Let her catch up with your plans.

Winston chose that moment to twine between them. Parker bent to pick him up, filling his hands so he didn’t toss Jayne on the bed and keep her there for the rest of the day. “If we’re lucky, Winston will allow us to live here with him.”

The phone rang, cutting into Jayne’s noticeable silence.

He ignored it. Focused on her. This was too important for an interruption.
 

Until he heard the voice on the answering machine.

“Mr. Steele, this is Benny from the front desk. Two cops are on their way up. I couldn’t stop them.”

Parker reached behind him, snatched the handset out of its base. “Thank you, Benny. It’s fine. See to getting copies of all the video from our security cameras. They might request them, and I want backups. ” He clicked End and set the phone back, and then shifted his shoulders, trying to dislodge a new weight—irritation that his time with Jayne was interrupted, or was it a premonition of what was to come?
 

“There are sweats in the bottom drawer,” he said to her, reaching for a pair of jeans. “We probably want to meet Raleigh’s finest in more than bathrobes.”

The shock of Parker’s efficiency
broke through Jayne’s confusion and left an icy tingle along her nape. Tarik. This must be about Tarik. “Damn. Damn. Damn,” she whispered into the empty room as she tugged some non-descriptive gray sweats from the drawer and pulled them on. She had to wrap the drawstring around her twice, but at least the pants stayed up. She ran her fingers through her hair, sucked in a breath, squared her shoulders, and went to join Parker and the police.

“…died early this morning. Poisoning of an undisclosed origin.” The deep, male voice carried down the hall. Jayne paused to assess the situation before entering the great room.
 

Parker was on the sofa, left ankle balanced on his right knee. He looked coolly attentive. A façade she recognized, but had only seen once before—the day a mailroom clerk fondled her ass, and Parker had personally escorted him from the building in less than a minute.

The detective appeared oblivious to Parker’s mood. He held his rugged jawline at a threatening angle and kept his tone intimidating. The uniformed officer with him didn’t look up from her notepad. Tall and willowy, her blond hair was pulled into a tight braid that ran halfway down her back.
 

Parker must have sensed Jayne’s presence, because he turned and motioned her into the room. “Detective Joe Stephens from homicide and Officer Kennedy,” he said, standing to wrap his arm around Jayne. “They’re here about Solomon Tarik. He died this morning.”

“While we were…” she whispered against his ear.
 

His arm tightened. “There was nothing we could do, Jayne.”

She stepped out of his embrace and faced the detective. “How? What happened?”

Officer Kennedy snapped her notebook closed and focused on Jayne. “Perhaps you can tell us, Ms. Hunt. It is Ms. Jayne Hunt, correct?”

“Yes, it is. And I don’t know what happened to the Emir. He seemed to simply drift off during the séance.”

“Tell us what happened.” Detective Stephens’s request held an unspoken warning.

“What would you like to know?” Jayne crossed her arms tightly over her ribs.
 

Parker froze. “Would you like an attorney, Jayne?”

She searched his face, looking for a clue as to how she was supposed to answer his question. “Yes, I believe I would.”

Parker jerked his cell out of his pocket and punched in a series of numbers. “I have Drew Smith on retainer. He’ll cover the preliminaries and determine if we need additional counsel.”