He put his hands on her upper arms and pulled her tight to him, lowering his mouth to hers without delay. Damn, she was delicious. She was Evie, silky, sweet Evie from so long ago. Clancy slid his arms around her body and lifted her off the deck, still kissing, still holding, still doing whatever it took to get her to come out of hiding. He waited. . . . Evie didn’t shove him away or take her lips from his. In fact, Clancy felt her clutch on to him for dear life, her hands gripping his back, her muscular legs flying up to grip him around his waist—which wasn’t recommended for a utility belt outfitted with a loaded Glock, handcuffs, Mag flashlight, mace, and a Taser, among other things.
“Evie. I gotta put you down. Hold on just a second.”
She wouldn’t let go. Her lips moved on his and she tightened her thighs. Ah, God it felt so damn good, but it was crazy unsafe. “Evie?” She only grabbed him tighter.
Clancy managed to pull her off, and guided her to the top of the deck railing, where he plopped her down.
“Give me a second. My gun is loaded.”
Evie looked down the front of his body and smiled. “It sure is.”
They both laughed as he unhooked his utility belt and laid it across one of the deck chairs. He returned to Evie, and when he got close enough she opened her legs and pulled him in to stand between her thighs. Just like so long ago.
“Keep kissing me. Please.”
Clancy brushed the side of her cheek. It was almost too wonderful to believe. She was right here with him, after so much time. Evie gazed into his eyes, and suddenly, she didn’t even look like the same woman. Her face had opened in softness, her eyes were so wide and vulnerable that she looked fourteen again.
Clancy feathered his lips against hers, trying to be gentle when all he wanted was to disappear deep inside her, bite down into her flesh and consume her. It took everything he had to hold back, to simply enjoy her gifts of sweet, soft, luscious kisses. His hands went around her firm waist. Evie gently held the backs of his thighs, pressing him a little closer, demanding a bit more from his kiss.
They were on the edge and they both knew it. His hands went to her hips, back, thighs—oh, God—these kisses and these touches were not the cautious exploration of two kids. This was the real deal. Evie’s flesh felt firm and hot and her legs were open to him. She wanted him. And he wanted her so badly he was about to explode.
“This is very dangerous,” he said.
“Danger is my middle name nowadays.” She slapped her hands on his ass.
They went there again—raging, hot, and wild, her legs flying around his waist. Clancy felt all of her, the delicate juncture between her thighs, her perfect breasts pressed up against his chest, her heat, her need, the muscle strength of those thighs and calves claiming him. He kissed the living hell out of her until they were both gasping for breath.
So this was Evie—all grown up.
They panted, staring at each other in silence. She looked stunned, and Clancy was sure he did, too. There was no logical explanation for what was happening. They hadn’t said a word to each other for nearly two decades. She was a fugitive on the run and he was a cop who had decided to risk everything to help her. This detonation of lust made little sense.
Clancy smiled at her. All he had intended to do was comfort her, ease her sadness. Instead, he’d unleashed eighteen years of desire. Clearly, it was mutual.
“Oh, dear God,” Evelyn whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Where do we even start?”
“Wherever you want.”
She bit her lip and looked past Clancy into the house. “She won’t be asleep too much longer—maybe a half hour at the most.”