She turned to kiss the palm of his hand. “Yes,” she murmured. “I know that.”
Her heart swelled with emotion so strong it thumped-thumped-thumped against her chest. But she felt incapable of articulating just how special this was to her. She would have to show him.
Then he had her bra unhooked and there was nothing between them but their underwear. And then not even that.
He lowered her to the bed. She gave herself up to bliss as he stroked and explored, discovered her most sensitive places, just what pleased her. His breath in the hollow behind her ears, his tongue teasing her nipples, his fingers trailing across the backs of her knees, her thighs, the curve of her hip before moving to more intimate caresses. He groaned his appreciation as she did the same for him, glorying in his body, exulting in his response. His rapid breathing, his tension, made her sense he was on the edge, straining to hold back. To wait until she was ready.
No need. She arched against him, loving the feeling of his body against hers, the tickle of his chest hair against her breasts, urging him. “Now, Nick. Please.”
He took care of protection. “Now,” he murmured as he entered her.
She welcomed him to her body. She wanted him, oh, how she wanted him. She knew she was falling in love with him.
So why did she freeze as soon as he started to move inside her?
He was so strong, so heavy, and suddenly she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her heart started to beat wildly, not with passion but with panic. Her old fears of being dominated. Of losing control. Of losing herself.
Nick seemed to know straight away. He stilled. Raised himself on his elbows. Stroked the damp hair away from her forehead. “It’s okay,” he said in a deep, soothing voice.
Then slowly, without breaking their intimate connection, he rolled her over so she lay on top of him. She pushed herself up so she straddled him. Immediately, the feeling of suffocation lifted. She took in a deep gulp of air. Then another.
This was embarrassing. Not what this amazing man would expect from Serena St. James. But then, hadn’t Dave told her that her admirers would be disappointed at how the reality of her didn’t match up to her posters?
She couldn’t even cook Nick a lasagna.
And now this.
Tears smarted her eyes. She bit down on her lip to stop its wobbling. Then turned her head away so Nick wouldn’t see. So she couldn’t see his disappointment. His anger, maybe.
But he cupped his hand under her chin and gently turned her to face him. She made herself meet his gaze, dreading his reaction. All she saw was concern and compassion. Those qualities that so surprised her in this tough PI.
“I . . . I . . .” she stammered. But he placed his finger on her mouth to hush her.
“Hey, boss lady,” he said. “You set the pace. You be in charge.” He flung his arms behind his head in a gesture of surrender, his biceps rippling as he did so.
“Really?” she said, amazed at the instant rush of arousal that dispelled the last of her anxiety.
“Just think of me as your own personal sex slave.”
This big, muscular, wonderful man her
sex slave
?
Serena laughed, a throaty, joyous laugh. Felt an exhilarating freedom. And an immense gratitude that he understood her so well.
She narrowed her eyes in mock command. “Okay, sex slave. Lie back and listen.You are there for my pleasure.You only move when I let you move. You only touch when I say you can touch. Do you get that?”
“Yes, boss lady,” he growled.
The gleam in his eyes showed he was as turned on as she was. Hey, this could be fun. She started to move rhythmically against him. It felt so good
. He
felt so good.
He let her find her own pace, her own rhythm, as she rode him. “Now you touch . . .” she started, but suddenly she couldn’t find her breath.
“Oh!”
Pleasure started to ripple through her in ever-tightening waves. “Nick,” she gasped. He took that as an order. And when he thrust up to meet her, his power and strength sent her soaring into climax, crying out his name and urging him to come with her.
Nick
woke hours later, hungry. Not for Serena. He would always be hungry for Serena. That was a given.
No. He was replete with sexual satisfaction. Making love with Serena had been everything he’d dreamed of and more. The second time had been even better than the first. By the third they’d gotten to know each other’s rhythms as if they’d been together for years. But he needed food. The day had started so early at the airport. Dinner had been a no-show.
Serena slept with her head on his shoulder, her dark hair spilling across his chest and one long, smooth leg resting over his. He slid out of bed so as not to disturb her. She gave a little murmur of protest deep in her throat but then nestled into the pillow to sleep again.
He went downstairs to the kitchen. Thawed a frozen pizza in the microwave and then slid it into the oven, turned to the highest setting. He watched it through the glass door of the oven, willing the cheese on top to bubble and cook quicker.
Then was surprised by warm arms sliding around his waist from behind.
“Do I smell pizza?” Serena murmured.
He turned around. She wore a towel wrapped around her. It just covered her breasts and barely covered her bottom. Replete? Who said he was replete?
“Want to share?” he asked.
“I’m starved,” she said.
Tempted as he was to divest her of the towel then and there, he decided he needed fuel to keep up his stamina. Being her sex slave was demanding work.
They sat on barstools in the kitchen. She must have been as hungry as he was for she ate in silence interrupted only by appreciative little murmurs that were maddeningly like the noises she made when she was aroused.
“Enough,” she said finally, leaving her last slice only half eaten. “Thank you.” She licked her lips and sucked on her fingers. Nick felt his eyes glaze as he watched her. He put down his own slice half eaten, too.
She looked him in the eye and smiled. She knew exactly what he was thinking, the minx.
“Just what I needed,” she said.
She got off her stool and turned away. The towel started to slip from her body. She looked back over her shoulder at him. The expression on her face was just like in the posters that had made her famous.
“Are you coming back upstairs?” she asked. “I hope so. Because it’s my turn to be your sex slave now.”
Twenty-three
Of
all the jobs Nick had dreamed about during the long years at college and his training at the FBI, tying Halloween bandannas around the necks of a posse of pampered pooches wasn’t one of them.
The bandannas were black, printed with orange, glow-in-the-dark pumpkin jack-o’-lanterns and the Paws-A-While logo in one corner. As bandannas went, they were quite stylish. He didn’t even object to wearing one himself as the Paws-A-While staff had been instructed to do on October 31.
The bad news was that he wasn’t great at tying bandannas on dogs, especially ones that protested. The good news was that Serena noted the trouble he was in and came over to help him.
He looked up from where he was tying a bandanna around the neck of the sad-eyed basset hound. Even though the dog was placid enough, she still moved around enough to make it difficult for Nick to tie the square of fabric the way the boss lady had directed.
Serena smiled as she knelt down next to him on the playroom floor. The smile she reserved for dogs was nothing compared to the smile she gave to him, her lover. If he hadn’t already been in love with her, he would have fallen head over heels just because of that smile.
“Need some help?” she asked in her soft, husky voice.
Her shoulders touched his and he stilled, breathing in her nearness, enjoying the intimacy and the subtle joy of just being beside her.
For the past two nights Serena had stayed over at Sausalito. Mack had slept through the night. He and Serena had not. They had been the most wonderful two nights of Nick’s life.
He wished that the world of dogs and Halloween and identity thieves did not have to intrude on precious time getting to know this woman.
“I can’t tie this damn thing so your logo shows,” he grumbled.
“Tsk-tsk,” she pretended to admonish him. It brought back sizzling memories of what it was like when she took charge in bed. Now
that
was a boss lady . . .
He had to force his mind back up north to the Halloween bandanna. Serena took it out of his hand, then deftly tied it around Cleo the basset hound’s neck. Serena tweaked it and fluffed it until it sat all perky and crisp with the Paws-A-While logo prominently displayed.
“Let me watch while you do the rest of them,” he said. Tweaking and fluffing were not in his skill repertoire.
She sighed. “They have to look good, I spent so much on them before . . . well, before. At the time it seemed like a good marketing idea to give each dog its own Halloween bandanna.”
“Of course it is,” he said. “When they all go out for their walks today they’ll look so cute people will ask where they came from and want to send their . . . their . . . dogs here.”
Nick couldn’t believe he’d come so close to saying “dog-kid.” He thought back to the day when he’d made a conscious decision to cross the line and fight on Serena’s side. He was now so firmly entrenched he would fight any battle for her. But he still balked at schmaltzy doggy talk.
“You think so?” she asked.
“I know so,” he said firmly. Though already one of the dogs had managed to pull his bandanna to the front and chew it to shreds. “And your regular clients will be very pleased at such a clever gift.”
He wanted to lean over and kiss her, but she still insisted they try to maintain the façade he was just an employee. It was a lost cause. There wasn’t a staff member who hadn’t guessed their secret. But if that was the way Serena wanted to handle it, then he would play it her way.
Serena gave the basset hound’s bandanna a final tweak and scratched her behind the ears before sending the droopy-eared dog on her way.
Ruff-ruff,
thought Nick, remembering how Serena managed to turn scratching behind his ears into erotic foreplay. He could hardly wait to get her alone again. Be her sex slave. Or vice versa.
“Cleo is coming to the party as a hot dog,” said Serena.
Had he heard right? “Say that again.”
“A basset is a great shape for a hot dog costume,” she said. “She’ll look adorable. Cleo’s mom is still in hospital, but her son brought along Cleo’s costume.”
“You mean . . . the human son?”
“Who else would I mean?” Serena sat back on her bottom and smiled at him. “You still don’t get what it means to live in dog world, do you?”
“For your sake I’m trying,” he said. “But I don’t get this hot dog costume. You mean like a sausage between a bun with mustard on top?”
“That’s right. Only Cleo is the sausage. The bun halves go on either side. The costume works really well with a dachshund, of course.”
“Of course it would,” said Nick. Serena was right. He was still a stranger in a strange land when it came to dog world. “I know the humans are wearing costumes this evening, but the dogs . . . ?”
“Sure, the dogs will be in fancy dress. That’s what Halloween is all about.”
“So why the bandanna?”
“It’s just for the daytime and for those dogs who are too skittish to dress up. Or whose owners don’t want to dress them up. Besides, it wouldn’t be safe for the dogs to wear their costumes all day. Barry’s alligator costume, for example.”
“The pug will be wearing an alligator costume?” Nick said faintly.
Serena frowned at his ignorance but her eyes danced. “It’s so cute. It’s a bit too big for him and it kinda looks like he’s been swallowed by the alligator.”
“I . . . I guess I have to see it . . .” Nick said. Even then he might not believe it. “But I didn’t get a costume for Mack. Or Bessie.”
“Done,” she said. “Kylie . . .” She paused. He knew Serena was upset that she still hadn’t heard from Kylie. “She . . . she organized their costumes. You have to plan well ahead for Halloween in San Francisco.”
“And their costumes are?” He dreaded what he might be about to hear.
“A king costume for Mack. You know, a crown and a fake fur-trimmed cloak.”
“Appropriate,” Nick said. “And for Bessie?”
“What else but a fairy? Kylie chose an adorable little yellow tutu and a matching headband with gold stars. I’m sure your aunt would approve.”
Nick groaned. But, oddly enough, he was sure Aunt Alice would love the idea. “We’ll have to get some photos for her,” he muttered.
“Helen O’Brien is bringing her camera. And we’ll all take shots of course.”
He was glad the O’Brien family would be coming. He could do with some moral support from Tom.
He had to go pick up his own costume at lunchtime. He wondered again what Serena would be wearing. He’d asked, but she wasn’t telling. At one stage, he had thought of suggesting matching costumes. Then sanity had kicked in. That would have really freaked Serena out. Not because the idea was ridiculous but because it would look too much like commitment. For all the intimacy they’d shared, the barriers they had broken down, he still sensed she was holding back from him. If it were up to him, their relationship would be on the fast track.
“I have a thought for Mack’s costume,” he said. “Adam fixed the receiver for the camera and dropped it off here. I know you don’t like the studded collar, but I’d like to put it back on Mack. With all the people coming here this evening we might pick up something useful.”
“Good idea,” she said, but he noticed she paled. For a few minutes they’d been able to forget the identity fraud and the fact that they were no closer to solving it.