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Authors: Marie Ferrarella

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BOOK: The Strong Silent Type
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Muttering under his breath, he unlocked the door and pulled it open.

The first thing she saw was the gun. Teri raised her brows in mild surprise. “Expecting trouble?”

He put the safety back on. “It looks as if it just walked in.” Placing the gun back in the holster, he turned around to look at her. “Why can’t I get rid of you tonight?”

She held a brown bag up. It was tightly wrapped around a bottle. “I just came by with this to say thank you.”

He took the bottle she handed him, removing the wrapper. She’d brought him Scotch.

“I heard a rumor that you liked having Scotch once in a while.”

He was aware of no such rumor. Hawk placed the bottle on the counter next to his weapon. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He lived like a Spartan, she thought, looking around. It didn’t come as a surprise. What did surprise her was that he had music on.

“And you didn’t have to try to talk me down from that emotional ledge I was standing on.”

“I thought you came from a family of cops, not drama queens.”

In response, she merely gave him a smile. A crooked smile that went straight to his gut. This was a bad idea, he thought, letting her come in here. He should have stood his ground by the door.

Too late now.

Hands in her pockets, Teri slowly scanned the small space, all of which could have been nestled into any one of the rooms in her father’s house. Except
that this represented Hawk’s entire apartment. A bed, a table and chair, a combination refrigerator/stove/sink, a television set sharing space with a pile of books and one love seat because there was no room for a sofa. For a big man, he didn’t seem to need much space.

She turned around to face him again. “So this is where you live.”

He leaned against the counter, watching her. “You already knew that or you wouldn’t be here.”

“From the outside,” she corrected. “I knew your address, not what the place looked like.” She flashed a smile at him. “So, want to give me the grand tour?”

With a resigned, less-than-patient sigh, Hawk swung his hand from one end of the room to the other. “There, you’ve had the grand tour.”

She slid her hands into her pockets. “It’s kind of small.”

Hawk shrugged. He’d never needed anything fancy. And it was his, which was all that mattered. Growing up, he would have killed to have something like this. “It’s got everything I need.”

In this day and age of excess, it was unusual to meet someone who was satisfied with so little. The home invaders would have turned right around at the door had they targeted his place. “Don’t need much, do you?”

“Nope.” He pinned her with a long, penetrating look. Wanting her to leave before he made a misstep they were both going to regret. “What are you really doing here, Cavanaugh?”

So it was Cavanaugh again, not Teri, she thought. He was retreating. “Hanging out with my partner?” she offered cheerfully.

He wasn’t the kind to kick back with in front of the TV with a couple of beers and they both knew it. The longer she stayed, the more dangerous the situation became. “What does it take to get rid of you?”

“I don’t know.” She drew closer to him. “A silver bullet?” Her eyes teased him as she lifted her chin up in an unconscious show of defiance. “What have you got?”

What he had was an overwhelming craving to kiss her. To have her.

It was all wrong and he knew it.

She was crowding him, just by standing there, by breathing. He wanted her to go before he asked her to stay. What was it that he’d once heard her say? “You’re messing with the universe.”

She grinned. Broadly. And he had this urge to wipe the grin from her mouth with his own. “You do listen to me when I talk,” she said.

He did, a lot more than he wanted to, but he didn’t want her making a big deal of it. By now, he knew her. She could make bouquets out of a single daisy. “It’s like water on tile. A little of it always manages to seep through eventually no matter how good the seal is.”

“Poetic and utilitarian,” she observed. “There’re no end to your talents, is there?”

When she breathed, he could almost feel her
breasts brushing against his rib cage. “There’s an end, all right, and it should be here.”

Should be, but wasn’t.

She was getting to him again, getting to him with the force of a ten-ton bomb. Maybe it was the small space. She seemed to fill it just as she did the inside of the car at times. Filled it with her exuberance, with the zest that seemed to vibrate all around her.

He could feel the pull between them, drawing him in. Tempting him to cross over a line that shouldn’t be crossed. He tried again. “Look, maybe you’d better go.”

She made no move. “I just got here.” Her voice was innocent. Tempting. “Your hosting skills need a little polishing.”

“I’m not playing host.” He moved a lock of her hair back, exposing her neck. Wondering what it would be like to taste the skin there. “Maybe I’m still playing your protector.”

She could feel her heart hammering again, far harder than when she’d raced after the home invaders the other day. “What are you protecting me from?”

“Me.”

His breath danced along her face. She felt her body tightening. Waiting. “I don’t think I need any protection from you.”

“Think again,” he advised. He took her chin in his hand, framing her face. Desire moved in, setting up homesteading.

There was little space between them. So little space that a speck would have trouble passing through.

He knew he should step back.

One of them should hang on to good sense and it looked as if the mantle fell to him. She wasn’t the kind to be warned off. But she could be frightened off.

He pulled her to him and brought his mouth down to hers—hard. For one moment, he unchained his desire. Kissed her as savagely as he could, hoping to scare her away before he wouldn’t let her go.

He succeeded in scaring himself instead. Scaring himself by the way his head seemed to spin when he kissed her, by the way his blood warmed in his veins, roared in his ears.

The hunger he felt threw him. He had all the normal male urges, but this, this was different. This was something he wasn’t sure if he could control.

With effort, Hawk drew his head away. She looked dazed, as if she were shell-shocked.

Run.

He didn’t know if the thought applied to her, or to him.

Teri pressed her lips together, tasting him. Her heart wouldn’t stop hammering.

Bewilderment filled her eyes as she looked at him. “Why did you stop?” she wanted to know. “You were just getting to the good part.”

For just a moment longer, he held himself in check. “Last chance.”

He was warning her. But she didn’t want to be warned. Her emotions were all over the chart and she wanted to focus them. To give them a place to gather.
The tension between them felt as if it would erupt at any minute and she didn’t want to wait any longer.

The sides of his shirt hung open, inviting her. She didn’t turn a deaf ear. Teri spread her fingers along his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He laced his fingers through her hair. She felt fragile, as if he could break her into pieces if he tried. If she knew what was good for her, she’d run out of here and keep on running.

“Maybe you should.”

Teri raised her chin. “You don’t scare me, Jack Hawkins.” Her feet were firmly planted on the floor, her body language all but daring him to make her leave. “I’m not afraid of you.”

The ache inside of him was growing. “Maybe you should be.”

And then he brought his mouth down on hers again.

Chapter Eleven

I
t was a full-scale attack.

There was no other way to regard it. Hawk was assaulting her senses, her mind, her body, just by the very act of kissing her. There was no avenue of escape.

She didn’t want one.

Her body heated. It was like a fever, brought on by some small, almost undetectable source, infecting her. Spreading until it raged throughout her entire being. Raged through her until she couldn’t even recognize herself.

She was like a woman possessed.

Possessed by him. Obsessed by this feeling he was creating within her.

She enjoyed life, enjoyed what it had to offer, enjoyed, when the timing was right, the intimacies that were available between a man and a woman. Those were all undertaken with an understanding. There were to be no strings. No regrets.

But there was never this storm, this passion that began almost at the very starting line, making her want to race toward the finish banner before it vanished from view. From her grasp.

Urgently, she pulled the shirt from Hawk’s shoulders, bunching it down his arms as she struggled to free him from its confines. Her heart hammered harder as she felt his hands delve beneath her shirt, coming in contact with her bare skin.

Chills alternating with waves of heat shimmied up and down her spine. She felt his fingers probing, brushing against the bottom swell of her breasts.

Everything within her went on full-scale alert, even as that small shred of brain that was still clinging to logic told her to back off. To leave the liquor and take her sanity while it was still available and run. Run as fast as she could for the door and escape. Run because this time, it was different.

This time, she was in danger. In danger not just of screwing up her partnership, but her life as she knew it. As she wanted it to be.

This force had to be what her father had felt when he’d fallen for her mother. It had driven him all those years he tried to find her, even as everyone else told him to give it up. Love made him continue.

Love, she’d felt, that had almost destroyed him.

And yet, her father had found her mother. Love had given him the will, the stamina, the courage to keep on against all odds. Love had been his beacon.

What was she thinking? Love? What love? What was happening here wasn’t love, it was sex, attraction to the nth degree, desire run amok, nothing else, nothing more.

It was enough.
For now.

She wanted Hawk with a craving she hadn’t thought possible. Each touch, each kiss drew her in, blotting out all reason. She wanted him.

“You won’t be needing this,” Hawk murmured against her mouth.

Needing what? My mind? Too late. It’s already gone.

The next moment, Hawk was backing away from her, unbuckling her holster. For the first time in her life, she saw his hands look unsteady. Or was that just her trembling? No, it couldn’t be that, she didn’t tremble. She wasn’t afraid.

And yet…

She was more afraid than she’d ever been in her whole life.

His arm brushed against her breasts as he finished removing her weapon and holster. Everything tightened inside of her, like a string across a violin bow, drawn so tightly she thought she was going to snap in half.

Anticipation hummed so loudly in her ears, she was afraid he would hear it.

Teri watched him set the weapon aside on the counter, beside his.

Just like at home.

The thought came out of nowhere, blossoming. Making her warm.

And then there was no more time to revel in tenderness.

Hawk dragged her shirt from her body, wasting little time on her bra. The hook opened, the material slid and he drew her to him in a hot embrace. Skin against naked, heated skin.

Demands slammed into each other, the rest of their clothing disappeared in a tangled puff of smoke generated by desire, by passion, by the sheer force of wills coming together.

And then he surprised her again.

He slowed down. To explore, to caress, to anoint. Hawk held her hands above her head as he made himself achingly familiar with every part of her, taking her prisoner even as he himself was imprisoned.

She twisted and turned beneath the warmth of his mouth, the heat of his gaze. With each pass of his tongue, his hot breath, she felt she died a little by inches, ready to endure death by exquisite torture.

And then her will rose to the surface. It wasn’t in her nature to merely be a recipient, to take without giving. Her independence took over.

Breaking free, Teri pushed the man who had
shaken the very foundations of her existence back on the bed. Straddling him, she leaned over Hawk until her breasts just barely brushed against his chest, her hair tickling his skin, her breath destroying his resolve.

With slow, deliberate motions, she took the time to feast on his neck, savoring the dark tastes she discovered. Everything was a revelation, an adventure of the highest degree. She heard his breath shortening, becoming labored as she pressed her lips to his flesh. This reaction empowered her even as it chained her to him.

She began her own road to exploration, her fingers seeking out every part of him, her lips following the trail that had been forged. Exciting herself even as she strove to excite him.

She was driving him out of his mind.

This wasn’t a planned seduction, or even an unplanned one. But since it was happening, Hawk was accustomed to having the upper hand. That he didn’t here, that this slip of a woman held him in the palm of her hand from the moment she’d turned her mouth up to his, scared the hell out of him.

But he couldn’t seem to pull back, couldn’t force himself to break free no matter how much he counseled himself to do it. And that scared him even more. Scared him because it gave Teri Cavanaugh power over him. And if she had power, she could abuse it. Could render him helpless.

He couldn’t allow that.

He couldn’t stop it.

At least, not yet. Later, he’d get up and pick up all the pieces, reconstructing himself, making himself into what he’d been less than half a hour ago. For now, he wanted to enjoy her, to enjoy this sensation Teri created inside of him, this excitement that seemed to be heightening with each and every second that passed.

He’d reined himself in to prove to himself that this had no real power over him. That he was in control, could change the tempo whenever he wanted. Could even walk away if he so chose.

But all he’d managed to do was get himself more tightly trapped—like someone fighting against quicksand. The more he struggled, the deeper he sank.

He didn’t care.

Not now.

Later, he’d care. Later there would be damage control and fences to urgently mend. Right now, there was only her, only this wild magical flame that burned far brighter than anything he’d ever experienced before.

Watching Teri out of the corner of his eye, he brought her up to a climax, not once, but several times, as if to prove to himself that he could. But this made him want her more.

Like the drugs he’d sworn he’d never touch, the drugs that destroyed his parents long before their deaths, one taste only made him want more. Need more. Crave more.

Controls disintegrated.

He could hear her breathing hard, trying to catch her breath.

Or was that him?

The sounds mingled, becoming one. He wanted to do the same. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. It was time.

Hawk pulled himself up over her body, brushing along the length of her, his eyes fastened to hers. With his knee, he moved her legs apart.

His pulse went erratic as he felt her legs encircle his.

With a guttural cry escaping his lips, he drove himself into her, hard, fast. Teri tightened her arms around him, welcoming him. Making him want her even more and not knowing how the hell that could be humanly possible.

The dance began. The wild, torrid dance destined to reach the stars that revolved in her head. She clung to him, to the ever-increasing tempo, to the ever-growing yearning for the final explosion.

And then it came.

The surprise, the wonder of the intensity made her cry out—she had no idea what. The euphoria came, wrapped up in exhaustion. Her heart felt as if it were going to burst through her chest.

She felt his weight slacken and then felt him slide from her body. She wanted to curl up against him. Was that weakness? She didn’t know, didn’t care.

Rather than analyze, than worry, she curled her body against his.

He hesitated for a moment, reason returning in slow dribbles and drabs. The first thought that echoed through his brain was This is wrong.

But even this thought was singed in the fire that still moved through his body, still smoldered, unwilling to be completely extinguished.

What the hell had just happened here? He’d been all but castrated and he was grinning to himself. At least inwardly. The energy required to smile outwardly eluded him at the moment.

He couldn’t resist the way she curled into him. He knew he should, for his own self-preservation, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough yet. So he slipped his arm around her and held her to him.

Teri rested her head against his chest. He could feel each breath she exhaled as it moved along his skin, a silent, unwitting invitation.

He could feel the remnants of desire glowing in the ashes that had once been his resolve.

Damn, he wanted her again. Barely recovered and he wanted her again.

He had to be losing his mind.

“Well, this is a first,” he murmured.

She raised her head to look at him just then, amusement playing along her lips. He had an urge to wipe the smile off her face with the only resource he had available. His own mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin,” she teased. “Be
cause if you are, that’s the best display of raw talent the world has ever encountered.”

Had she just told him that he’d rocked her world the way she had his? Or was she putting him on? He never knew how to read her.

Mischief danced in her eyes. Why hadn’t he noticed how bright they were, how they could delve into him?

“No.” He shifted a strand of her hair through his fingers. “But I’ve never slept with my partner before.”

“You still haven’t.” She saw him look at her quizzically. “As I recall, absolutely no sleeping took place.”

He laughed softly. No, no sleeping took place. “You know what I mean.”

“No,” she said quite honestly. “I don’t know what anything means right now.” She sighed as if all the air was being drained out of her. “Because up is down and black is white and the whole damn world has just turned sideways on its axis.” She punctuated her statement by pressing a kiss to his chest.

She saw what looked like desire taking root in his eyes.

Hawk dove his fingers through her hair, cupping her head back just a fraction. His voice was low. “It was pretty much that way for me, too.”

Something stirred within her she was really afraid to put a name to, negating all her silence assurances to herself about what she was feeling. “Oh, damn,
Hawk. Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out, you throw me a curve like this one.”

He smiled into her eyes, his hand trailing along the swell and dip of her body. Feeling stirred in his own. Desire galvanized him. “How do you feel about catching another one?”

He saw the laughter in her eyes, coupled with surprise. Felt desire springing up in his loins. “You ready to throw another one so soon?”

He pulled her closer to him still. “Try me.”

His body was hard from wanting. Her own moistened in preparation. The real world with its regrets, with its consequences, was left behind. She didn’t want to think now any more than she had before. She just wanted to feel as if she were on fire again.

“I have tried you.”

“And?”

Her eyes smiled into his. “Please, sir, I want some more.”

He vaguely recognized it as a quote from
Oliver Twist.
It was the last thought to pass through his mind for quite some time.

 

More exhausted than she thought was humanly possible, Teri finally made the effort to move out of the circle of his arms.

It was time for her to go home.

She looked around. The good thing about his having a studio was that her clothes weren’t difficult to locate. The sooner she got them on, the more prepared
she would be for when the awkwardness descended over her.

The awkwardness she was certain was going to follow.

So far, he hadn’t said a word. Had let her get up out of the bed. Had watched her gather her clothes up and begin to get dressed.

Teri started to feel as if he wasn’t going to say a word until after she left, if then.

“So where does this put us?”

So much for predictions. She turned around from the edge of the bed and looked at him. She tried to read his expression. Tried to read her own feelings, as well. Nothing straightforward arose. She felt as if she’d fallen headlong into a whirlpool and couldn’t make sense of anything.

“Working on the home invasion case,” she replied glibly as she continued putting on her clothes. It seemed like the safest answer at the moment.

He sat up, the sheet pooling below his navel. He didn’t seem to notice. His attention was focused on the blonde tornado who had just upended life as he knew it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.” She pulled on her skirt, rising to fasten it at her waist. She addressed a spot on the opposite wall rather than look at him. “Don’t worry, Hawkins, I’m not one of those women who demands a commitment when a guy brings her a flower.”

She heard him laugh shortly. “That was a hell of a lot more than a flower.”

She turned to look at him then, a grin playing on her lips even though she’d promised herself to keep this retreat short and sweet.

“Okay, a bouquet. A very large bouquet,” she amended after a beat. She tried very hard to keep this on a footing she thought he’d appreciate. A footing she usually wanted herself.

But not this time.

“We’re adults.” She shrugged before buttoning up her blouse. “Things happen. End of story.” She tried to get a handle on what he was thinking. What most men in his position probably thought. “Don’t look so worried, I’m not about to drag out a wedding dress or a palimony contract for you to sign. We were partners before I came here and we’ll be partners when I leave.” Damn, but he was impossible to read. He should have looked relieved right now, but he didn’t. “Why? Do you want more?”

BOOK: The Strong Silent Type
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