"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Maybe you need to."

"Cut it out, Lisa."

"But-"

"Will you just shut the h.e.l.l up and leave me alone?"

She recoiled, feeling the jolt of his angry words lodging directly in her heart. Yes, she'd pushed him. Hard. But she wanted to know- needed needed to know-why Carla's death still had a stranglehold on him four years later. But it looked as if she was never going to find out. to know-why Carla's death still had a stranglehold on him four years later. But it looked as if she was never going to find out.

"Sure, Dave," she said, rising from the sofa. "Whatever you say. And don't worry. After tomorrow, I won't be around to bother you anymore."

She brushed past him, heading for the patio door. As she came around the arm of the sofa, to her surprise, he clamped his hand around her wrist and pulled her to a halt.

"Lisa. Don't go."

It wasn't a command. Instead his voice held a hushed, pleading tone, and like some kind of invisible cord, it kept her from walking away more effectively than his grasp on her wrist ever could have. Then his grip relaxed, becoming more like a caress. He let out a long, tortured breath, then slowly, slowly pulled her back around until she was standing in front of him. The silence on the patio was broken only by the rustle of the night wind through the trees. He took her other wrist and ran both of his hands down to grasp hers, then looked up at her, his gaze solemn.

"Here's the truth. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because you looked so beautiful and we'd been sitting together all night and it seemed . . . G.o.d, Lisa." He exhaled. "Just looking at you has always done something to me I don't understand and I probably never will."

She held her breath, afraid to break whatever spell it was that kept the longing in his voice and the desire in his eyes. "And then you wanted more than a kiss."

His gaze played over her body, easing down over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to her waist, then back up to her face again. His hands tightened against hers. "I still do."

The coa.r.s.e hunger she heard in his voice gave Lisa the same feeling she got in her stomach every time her plane hit a pocket of turbulence-an intense, breathless, swooping sensation that was almost painfully exhilarating. And now, when Dave pulled her between his thighs, taking her hips in his hands and burying his face against her, the feeling only intensified. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, his warm breath soaking through her shirt and burning her skin like a brand.

She heard the m.u.f.fled sounds of traffic in the distance, tires rushing against asphalt, horns honking. The night air swirled through the trees, creating a whisper of leaf against leaf. Lisa sensed everything around her, but she remained strangely disconnected from all of it. All she knew, all she felt, all she wanted right now was Dave.

He tugged on her hips, easing her down until she was straddling his legs, her knees tucked beside his thighs, resting on the padded cushion of the rattan sofa. She steadied herself by placing her hands against his shoulders, and when she dared to meet his eyes again they were smoldering with want, with need. When men looked at her like that, when she could see that craving in their eyes, the subsequent rush was like a drug she needed desperately. It was a feeling like no other, that unparalleled sensation of being beautiful and desirable, of being the number one thing on a man's mind.

She knew the power of s.e.x. She always had.

He curled his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to his mouth, plunging his tongue inside in a deep, blistering kiss that made the one he'd given her downstairs pale in comparison. He shoved his other hand beneath her shirt and circled it around to the small of her back, his rough fingertips rasping against her skin as he pulled her closer still, his mouth burning against hers.

G.o.d, this man could kiss. this man could kiss.

Then a sense of desperation crept in. She had no delusions that he'd suddenly fallen madly in love with her. There was a big difference between love and l.u.s.t, and Dave DeMarco was experiencing a major case of l.u.s.t.

He saved love for women like Carla.

No. Maybe it wouldn't be that way. Not if she made it so good for him that he forgot all about his dead wife. Made it the best s.e.x he'd ever had in his life, so he would want to come back again and again and Carla would slip further and further from his mind. She wanted him to feel every s.e.xual tremor like an earthquake inside him, to a.s.sociate the sight of her, the feel of her, the very Maybe it wouldn't be that way. Not if she made it so good for him that he forgot all about his dead wife. Made it the best s.e.x he'd ever had in his life, so he would want to come back again and again and Carla would slip further and further from his mind. She wanted him to feel every s.e.xual tremor like an earthquake inside him, to a.s.sociate the sight of her, the feel of her, the very smell smell of her with the most incredible sensations of his life. She wanted to make sure that from this moment forward, every time he thought about s.e.x, hers would be the face he would see. of her with the most incredible sensations of his life. She wanted to make sure that from this moment forward, every time he thought about s.e.x, hers would be the face he would see.

Sorry, Carla. You can't have him. Tonight, he's mine.

She tore her lips away from his and sat up, unb.u.t.toned his shirt, and spread it apart, stroking her hands over the rigid muscles of his chest. Then she leaned back in, trailing her lips over his jaw, his neck, feeling the roughness of a day's growth of his beard against her cheek. His hands clenched against her thighs.

"Inside," he murmured.

"No."

"Lisa-"

"Right here."

She knew how daring it felt to be outside in the night air surrounded by city lights, how outrageous, how illicit, and how much it heightened the pleasure, the excitement. Most of all, she knew beyond all doubt that his precious Carla would never have been caught dead having wild, scorching s.e.x on a balcony.

Before he could even think about objecting again, she sat up quickly, undid a few of the b.u.t.tons of her shirt, and slipped it off over her head, flinging it aside. She rested her palms on his shoulders, leaned in, and kissed him again, brushing the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his bare chest.

"The balcony's secluded," she whispered. "It's dark. Trees all over the place."

"If someone sees-"

"They'll get a h.e.l.l of a good show. I promise you."

chapter eleven.

All at once, Dave didn't give a d.a.m.n. Inside, outside, upside down-any way he could have her, that was how he wanted her. He didn't care if the whole world was watching. It was as if his mind had blanked out completely. And no wonder. With Lisa half-naked on top of him, face-to-face with him, her thighs spread, every inch of her body within touching or kissing distance-how the h.e.l.l could he think about anything else?

Lisa touched her lips to his ear and whispered, "What do you want? Tell me what you want."

Good G.o.d-what didn't didn't he want? "That's like giving a hungry man a smorgasbord," he said breathlessly, "and asking him to choose." he want? "That's like giving a hungry man a smorgasbord," he said breathlessly, "and asking him to choose."

She leaned away a little. "So you're a hungry man?"

He stared back at her, feeling something more than need. More than desire. A deeper, darker, almost primitive sensation swept through him.

"Starving," he said.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and fell into him again, kissing him deeply. He closed his palms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, astonished to finally be touching what he'd only admired from a distance. G.o.d, they were beautiful, heavy and full, with hard, pointed nipples. She moaned against his lips, pressing herself against his hands, begging for more. He obliged, his gentle caresses becoming rougher as he kneaded her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, squeezing and releasing, his thumbs tripping back and forth over her nipples. She ripped her mouth away from his with a gasp of pleasure, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

Bending forward, Dave held her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and kissed the valley between them, inhaling the scent of her. He turned his head and kissed the inner swell of one, then dragged his mouth across it until he reached her nipple. He flicked it with his tongue, then took the tender flesh into his mouth and sucked hard. She groaned with pleasure, digging her fingertips into his shoulders and grinding herself into his erection straining against his jeans. Her breathing escalated, becoming harsh and needy.

"I want you naked," she said suddenly, and before he could even think about granting her wish her hands were on his belt buckle. In seconds she had it undone and was opening the b.u.t.tons of his jeans with a proficiency that astonished him. She stood up, pulling off everything south of his waist in a single swoop.

Dave was already way past caring that they might be providing an X-rated show to anyone who went to the effort to peer through a few leafy branches, particularly when Lisa stood in front of him and ripped the fly of her own jeans open with a sudden flick flick flick flick flick flick flick flick of the b.u.t.tons. She slid her hands down inside the jeans alongside her hips and pushed them off, taking her panties with them and kicking them both aside. Suddenly she was naked in front of him, illuminated by the pale moonlight-shapely hips, slender waist, full b.r.e.a.s.t.s. All woman. Every single beautiful inch of her. of the b.u.t.tons. She slid her hands down inside the jeans alongside her hips and pushed them off, taking her panties with them and kicking them both aside. Suddenly she was naked in front of him, illuminated by the pale moonlight-shapely hips, slender waist, full b.r.e.a.s.t.s. All woman. Every single beautiful inch of her.

She glided back on top of him again, wrapping her hand around his c.o.c.k, stroking it, rubbing the length of him against her. She was already hot and wet, and he wanted nothing more than to- All at once he clutched her hands. "Condom," he muttered. "d.a.m.n it. I don't have a condom."

She leaned over, snagging the leg of her jeans she'd just ripped off. She reached inside a pocket and extracted a plastic packet.

He stared up at her with surprise. "Where'd you get that?"

"Do you really care?"

"G.o.d, no." He reached for it, but she was already ripping it open. As she rolled it down over him, moving her hands in long, smooth strokes, he dropped his head back against the sofa, his fingers tightening against her thighs in antic.i.p.ation. She guided him back between her legs, and in one smooth, forceful stroke she drove down on top of him. He grasped her hips with a stifled curse, gritting his teeth against the indescribable pleasure that streaked through him. Momentarily paralyzed, he held her in place for a few seconds until he could breathe again.

"More," she whispered, her voice rough and demanding. "More. . . ."

He exhaled, easing his grip, and she rose on her knees until only the tip of him was inside her, then rode down the length of him again. She was hot and moist and tight beyond belief, and as she pumped up and down a third time, then a fourth, he caught her rhythm, guiding her with his hands. She increased her pace, clutching his shoulders to steady herself as she rocked on her knees against the worn vinyl cushion, grinding deep, taking every inch of him with every stroke. The cool night air skated across his sweat-sheened skin, but all he felt was heat. For years Lisa had moved like a shadow along the periphery of his mind, teasing him, tempting him. To have her on top of him now, naked and eager, felt like a fantasy come to life.

He opened his eyes, surprised to see her staring down at him as she thrust wildly, her red-gold hair fluttering against her forehead with every stroke. There was something so erotic about her watchful gaze, about the way she drove down on him with such focused intent, as if she was reading every move he made as a desire expressed and giving it back to him tenfold.

"G.o.d, Lisa. . . ."

"Just feel it," she murmured. "Feel it. . . ."

He dropped his head against the back of the sofa, squeezing his eyes closed again, astonished at how unbelievably fast the sensation was building inside him, like storm water pressing against a dam, threatening to burst right through. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should take control, take things slower, but the urgency was so powerful, so abrupt, so razor sharp that he couldn't have harnessed it if his life depended on it. He dug his fingers into her hips, moving her faster, as a whirlpool of blind sensation sucked him into its depths.

When the first shock wave hit him, a low groan rose from his chest. She clamped down hard around him even as she continued to thrust wildly, moving against him with ferocious intent.

"Oh, G.o.d, Lisa Lisa. . . ."

He ground out the words through clenched teeth, bowing his head forward, then throwing it back again as one hot, shuddering spasm after another crashed into him. They seemed to go on forever, fueled by the heat and pressure of her, by the wild, relentless way she thrust herself down on him.

As the feeling subsided, she slowed her pace, but still she moved against him, coaxing every tremor of pleasure from his body that she possibly could, until finally her movements wound down and she sagged against him, her forehead resting on his shoulder. He held her tightly, still deep inside her, immersed in the feeling of their bodies joined together.

"Should have gone slower," he said, breathing hard. "That was too fast for you. Had to be-"

She put her fingertips against his mouth, then replaced them with her lips, leaning into him with a hot, moist, lazy kiss. After a moment she started to rise, but he pulled her back, not yet ready to feel the cool mountain air dissipate the heat between them. But she persisted, rising to her feet in front of him and walking to the patio door. Stopping there, she turned back and gave him a long, slow, appraising stare. Then she disappeared into the room.

What the h.e.l.l was she doing?

After a moment, Dave got a grip on his still-labored breathing, then got up and followed her inside. The sudden warmth of the room made the sweat that had beaded on his forehead trickle down his temples. He looked first at the bed. She wasn't there. Then he heard the shower running and felt a surge of disappointment.

A woman disappearing into the bathroom after s.e.x-that had to be a bad sign. It had been too fast. He knew that now for sure. But she'd felt so good-so hot, so eager, so seemingly ready for him-that he hadn't been able to hold off for five minutes, and now all she wanted to do was wash away the experience.

Well, s.h.i.t. s.h.i.t.

Then the bathroom door slowly opened. Lisa leaned against the door frame, her arms folded beneath her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. In the dim light of the hotel room he thought he saw her smile.

"Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about s.e.x in the shower?"

His brain had barely comprehended that she was issuing him invitation number two of the evening before he felt an erection leaping to life all over again.

Amazing.

"Come here," she said.

He walked to the bathroom door. She pulled him inside, shut the door behind him, dousing the light at the same time and plunging them both into total darkness. She pressed him back against the closed door, circling her arms around his neck and kissing him. He wrapped his arms around her and hauled her right up next to him until the length of her body was pressed against his-firm thighs, soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s, hot, silky lips. She slid her hand between them, circling it around his rapidly hardening erection.

"I think you're ready for round two," she said.

"You've got my attention."

She took him by the hand, and they carefully made their way through the dark bathroom, his feet sinking into the oversize plush bathmat, and stepped blindly into the shower. Wrapped in each other's arms, they moved beneath the shower, the water washing over their bodies. Dave kissed her for a long time, their hands playing over each other in the dreamy haziness created by the hot water and the steam billowing up and the darkness surrounding them.

To his surprise, she maneuvered him around until his back was to the shower spray, then moved up behind him. "Officer?"

He blinked with surprise.

"This time you're the one under arrest," she said, her voice hot and provocative. "Put your hands against the wall."

His heart jolted hard, and for a moment all he could do was stand there, speechless.

"Oh, this is bad," she murmured, running her hands over his shoulders, down his arms, and back up again. "My suspect is resisting arrest. What do you suggest I do?"

"Well," he said, "I usually start suggesting at the top of my lungs that maybe he ought to cooperate. Lots of profanity. You know. Intimidation."

"Hmm. I'm afraid that might ruin the mood a bit." She paused. "How about if I just promise to frisk you really, really good?"

Yep, she's got you, he thought. he thought. It's definitely in your best interest to cooperate. It's definitely in your best interest to cooperate.

He placed his palms against the wall. Several seconds pa.s.sed, and just as he was wondering what she was up to, he was treated to the incredible feeling of her warm, soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s slick with soapsuds, moving against his back. She rested her cheek against his back with a hum of satisfaction, then slid her hands around his hips, down to his thighs, then back up to his waist, up and down, moving inward each time. Finally she closed the hot, soapy fingers of one hand around his c.o.c.k, moving them up and down in long, smooth strokes.

Jesus Christ Christ.

His palms still pressed to the wall, he bowed his head as unbelievably powerful sensations rose inside him all over again. She rubbed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his back as she continued stroking him with soapy hands, making him rock-hard all over again.

After a few minutes, she moved her hands back up to his hips. "Turn around."

He turned and reached for her, but she was already slithering downward, dragging her b.r.e.a.s.t.s along his chest, his abdomen, and then her hands were on his thighs. He couldn't see her in the dark, but he knew she'd fallen to her knees in front of him.

She must have moved slightly, because the shower spray suddenly hit him, rinsing away the soapsuds below his waist. Then he felt her hand wrap around his c.o.c.k. She stroked the length of him once, twice. On the third stroke, her mouth followed her hand.

He shuddered as her mouth closed around him, licking, sucking, tasting him, back and forth. As the water beat down on them, his hands rose almost involuntarily to cradle her head. He laced his fingers through her hair, clenching them against her scalp. With a low, harsh groan he dropped his head back against the wall. She took that as encouragement, drawing him in even deeper with an incredible fusion of lips and tongue, along with a mind-blowing suction that created a sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt before. The sound of the shower roared in his ears, the feel of her mouth and hands driving him right to the edge again. If he didn't stop her right now . . .

He grabbed her by the upper arms and hauled her to her feet. Breathing hard, he turned and pressed her to the shower wall.

"Guess I'd make a lousy cop," she said. "I didn't move fast enough with the handcuffs."

Dave leaned in and kissed her neck, feeling her pulse beating wildly in her throat, then nipped her earlobe. "I don't think you want me restrained."

In the darkness, he moved his hands to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, finding them still slick with soapsuds. He squeezed them firmly, his thumbs strumming her nipples, then moved his hand down between her legs, cupping the soft flesh of her inner thigh before easing upward to meet her hot, slick cleft. She exhaled, her fingertips digging into his shoulders as he stroked her there, her hips rocking slightly, her breath coming faster.

Yes. This was what he wanted. To hear her antic.i.p.ation, to feel her move against him, to sense her rising excitement. Suddenly he hated the darkness, wishing he could watch her face, wishing he could see her expression reflecting the pleasure he wanted her to feel. Then all at once she took his hand, stilling it. This was what he wanted. To hear her antic.i.p.ation, to feel her move against him, to sense her rising excitement. Suddenly he hated the darkness, wishing he could watch her face, wishing he could see her expression reflecting the pleasure he wanted her to feel. Then all at once she took his hand, stilling it.

"What?" he asked.