So he hadn’t stayed to cuddle. So she hadn’t looked into his eyes when he was inside her. When had this ever been an issue? And in the face of the pleasure he’d wrung out of her, it seemed awfully greedy to want more.
She rolled over to her back and looked unwillingly toward the open bathroom door.
Dammit. How had that happened?
And more importantly, what was she going to do about it?
13
DYLAN CLEANED UP, then braced his hands on the sink and stared at his reflection. Now what are you going to do, hotshot?
He knew what he wanted to do. Pull the drapes tight, crawl back into bed with Liza and sink into sleep with her all soft and warm, curled around him. And a few hours from now, wake up and sink himself back into all that soft warmth. Only this time he’d control himself, let her take them where she wanted them to go.
What it was about her that got his primal instincts all riled up, he had no idea. He’d taken her like a damn caveman or something. His lips quirked. Okay, so maybe he’d taken a bit more care with her, but still, that’s the way she made him feel. Me man, you woman. You all mine.
Jesus.
But it didn’t matter what he wanted to do. He had to go. He had to be at the airport an hour from now. He should hop in the shower here and save the time, drop by the office and change into the spare set of clothes he should have changed into at some point the endless night before. And just the idea of taking a hot steamy shower in Liza’s hotel room brought all sorts of images to mind, none of them having to do with efficiency.
“She’s in your blood,” he told his reflection, then reached to turn on the shower, only to find an erotically rumpled Liza standing in the doorway. Something about the tangle of linens she’d pulled around her was far sexier than if she’d simply appeared in the flesh. Flesh he found he was dying to taste again.
He wondered if she’d heard him, what she’d think of that little revelation, but all she said was, “Shower for one?”
There were a hundred things he wanted to say to her, not the least of which was how he’d love to spend the day making love to her, in the shower, on the floor of the bathroom, on the desk in the other room…. But what he said was what he had to say. “I have to be somewhere in an hour.”
She simply nodded. He should appreciate that. He’d known going in that she understood what was happening between them was an interlude at best. Instead it irked. Not that he wanted whining or temper or, God forbid, begging. Mostly because he was close to doing all three himself. But a little pout wouldn’t have hurt any.
“You keep going on no sleep like this and you’re not doing anyone any favors,” she said. “Surely the meeting can be rescheduled. If you’re that irreplaceable, they’ll wait.”
He smiled. “I bet you were really good at what you did.”
“I was,” she said matter-of-factly. “Do you want me to make a call, work this problem out for you?”
His lips quirked. He had no doubt she could do just that. “Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. If you’re so good at your job, why did you leave?”
The sudden shift in conversation made her pause, and he realized she didn’t really talk a lot about herself. Most women of his acquaintance loved to feel important, and that often manifested itself in long monologues of how they spent every minute of their days. Maybe it was because she’d spent so many years deflecting the spotlight to her clients that she simply didn’t realize she’d closed herself off in that way. Or maybe she was just a really private person.
No, that wasn’t it. Shy and retiring were two words that would never be used in conjunction with Liza Sanguinetti. Which was also why she’d probably been good at her job.
The odd thing was, he wanted to hear about every second of her day, about what she’d done as a public relations person, where her family was, were they proud of her, what her dreams were and… Jesus, Jackson, one little roll in the hay and you’ve gone right over the edge.
“All work and no play left Liza without a real life,” she answered bluntly. “Actually, my work was playing a great deal of the time, which was the real problem. I needed to get off the party-go-round and grow up, I suppose.” Short, succinct, nary an extraneous detail.
He smiled, and continued pushing despite her obvious desire to leave the subject alone. Maybe because of it. “And what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Still working on that.” Before he could ask her anything else, she said, “So, where is the meeting?”
He thought about ignoring the question to prod her some more, but he was standing naked in her bathroom and he did have a meeting to attend. “Vegas. I have to be at the airstrip in an hour.”
Her eyes widened a bit. “Vegas? Oh, right, you said your old job had come back to rear its ugly head. Then the fire at the motel is related to something you were involved with in your former line of work? Is that why you thought I might be in danger? Because I was with you and you were the target? But why the motel? I don’t see how that could be connected to… What? What’s so funny?”
He swore he could almost see the gears in her mind spin, and damn if that didn’t turn him on, too. He tugged at the linen sheet and she shuffled closer. He couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter that he had to walk away at some point and that she was going to drive away even if he didn’t. He wasn’t walking yet and she was standing right there. And he had to touch her. “I just enjoy watching you be you, that’s all. You fascinate me.”
She grinned, but there was something almost a bit…nervous dancing in her eyes. He liked it that he could make her nervous. He suspected not many men had. God, here he went with the caveman thing again.
Then she pressed a red fingernail in the dent in his chin and he found he didn’t care what game they were playing, as long as it meant she was right here in his arms.
“Glad I can amuse you, Sheriff.” She trailed the finger down to his chest, and damn if she didn’t have him stirring again. Whatever nerves he might have seen were gone now, replaced by a mischievous light that he knew boded trouble. Problem was, he wasn’t all that put off by a little trouble just now.
“Just how long a drive is it to the airstrip?”
“Twenty minutes, give or take. But I have to stop by the station and—”
Her hand trailed lower as the steam from the running shower began to billow around them. “That gives us, what, at least a good ten, twelve minutes to work up a decent lather.” She let the sheet drop. “What do you say?”
His pulse kicked up, along with other parts of him. “I soap you first?”
She stretched up and kissed him, then stepped behind the shower curtain. A long, very appreciative groan followed.
Dylan didn’t even bother berating himself for letting her get to him. Again. After all, he was only human. And she was…she was like a fever on perpetual spike.
He followed her into the shower and a moment later was groaning as well, but not just because the hot water felt so good.
She’d sabotaged him with body soap. Followed quickly with clever little hands that lathered him in all the right places.
“Liza—”
“Turn around and hold on to the towel rack,” she instructed. “Eight minutes left and I plan to use them wisely.”
Soap-foamed fingers and her slippery body sliding past him encouraged him not to argue.
She started at his ankles and worked her way up. His knees threatened to give way when she cupped him from behind. His groan of appreciation was met with a slide of slick skin up and over his buttocks. Breasts, nipples, belly and… “Don’t stop,” he demanded hoarsely.
“You wish.”
He did wish. In fact, he could make a number of wishes right at that moment.
“Turn around.”
He did, gladly. Because she continued her ministrations, tipping her head back so the water rinsed the soap bubbles from his skin…and cascaded down over her kneeling form. He knew it shouldn’t affect him so, seeing her kneeling before him, knowing she was the one that held all the power—literally—in her own small hands. But it did, viscerally. Which became immediately obvious to her as well.
She grinned up at him, mouthed “my turn” and slipped him fully into her mouth.
He could have come right then. And if he hadn’t just climaxed less than a half hour earlier, probably would have. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the ride.
Far too soon she was letting him go, turning off the water and reaching out for towels.
He might have whined. In fact, he was pretty sure that whimper of disappointment had come from him.
“Sorry, Sheriff, time’s up.” She wrapped a towel around her body and tossed him one. “I’d help, but you have a meeting to make.” And then she was gone, leaving him standing in a dwindling cloud of steam.
“You should have let me have my turn earlier,” she called out, as if she’d read his thoughts. And he wasn’t entirely sure she couldn’t.
He stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his hips, to find her back in her sundress, combing out her hair in front of the dresser mirror. When she said nothing, he reached for his clothes, glancing at the bed, then at her, and wondering how goodbye had come rushing up at him like this. Only it hadn’t really rushed. In fact, he’d postponed it longer than he should have.