Beneath the Silk (21 page)

“I was hungry.” She refused to give him more information than was necessary.

“Want me to fix you something hot?”

“No. I found what I needed, thank you. I’m on my way back to bed.”

He didn’t move.

“I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to bed.”

He shoved away from the door frame and came toward her. “Now that I’m up, I’m
up.”

His blunt words sent Sunni’s eyes to his crotch. And it was true, he was up. He walked past her and poured himself a cup of cold coffee from the old stuff sitting in the coffeemaker.

Seeing her chance to escape, she headed for the door. But she wasn’t quick enough—he reached out and grabbed her wrist, then took a swig of coffee and made a face. “That’s bad.”

“It’s late, Jack. I’m talked out.”

“Me, too.”

Slowly, he drew her toward him. Sunni angled her head. “Sex, then, that’s what you want? Should I keep my eyes closed so I don’t have to see the disgust in your eyes, or do you have a blindfold for me?”

“I could never be disgusted by you. You torture me, Sis. That’s what you’re seeing in my eyes.” That said, he locked his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the counter in a single motion. “We didn’t get a chance to try out your office desk. Ever do it in a kitchen?”

His husky voice sent shivers up Sunni’s spine, but she needed to fight them, to fight … Jack. She was too vulnerable where he was concerned.

“You smell good. Feel good.” Fingers splayed, he slid them over her stomach to her thighs.

“Jack, please put me down.”

His fingers curled inward and slowly spread her thighs open. “You liked me touching you last night.”

“Last night we were equals. Tonight I have a disease and I’m dying, remember? And since you’ve learned that
fact,
you’ve been staring
at me as if you
expect it to happen any minute.”

He stepped into the open vee of her legs. “I was upset. I said things I had no right saying. But I thought you trusted me. Then the next thing I know I’m learning you have a secret. I’m learning you have…”

“I have what, Jack? You can’t even say it without getting the word caught in your throat. Let me go.”

“No.” Suddenly his hands were in her hair, peeling it away from her face, his gaze practically smoldering with heat as he looked into her eyes. “If you catch me staring, I’m remembering things. Things we’ve done. Things we haven’t done. Things I want to do to you … with you.”

He kissed her mouth without the slightest hesitation, the heat driving Sunni’s mouth open and her eyes closed. She loved his warm mouth, his gentle hands. His lips trailed her throat, then moved lower, his breath dancing over her breasts, his nose nudging them as he boldly inhaled her scent. She felt his tongue tease one of her vulnerable nipples through her robe. When he had the little nub hard and the black silk wet from his attention, he moved on to the next nipple.

“Jack…”

“I’m right here.”

His hands parted her robe to expose the black chemise she’d worn to bed. His fingers brushed the dark curls between her legs, once. Twice. “No panties. Oh, baby…”

She heard the air whoosh out of his mouth, and she let out her own held breath and his name along with it.

“I want to watch a solo performance on the counter,” he whispered against her lips.

He was suggesting he make love to her with his hands and watch her come apart. His erotic words made her shiver as his palm flattened out and slid over her mons.

His name was caught on a tortured moan as he parted her and two fingers sank inside.

“My fingers feel good, don’t they? Ride my fingers, baby. Come on. I know you want to.”

He moved his thumb forward and stroked slowly. He knew what he was doing, where to go, how fast to move, how hard to push. What would make her the most vulnerable. What to do to her to make her
his.

“Jack…”

Sunni came apart in front of his eyes hard and fast. Her body moved against his loving fingers—magic fingers—with a sudden need so strong she soared swiftly and violently. Proudly and openly.

He’d once told her she wore her feelings. Tonight there was no doubt she’d exposed her soul, driven by the euphoria that she was fast realizing always came when she was in Jack’s arms, surrendering to his unrelenting touch.

His lips were warm as he kissed her seconds later, drawing her lips into his mouth like savored pieces of candy. When his tongue came, it teased and coaxed at
first, then
turned into a hot poker—probing and searching. Hungry and determined.

He had the most marvelous breath, Sunni thought, as his tongue entered her mouth like a dragon breathing liquid fire. She moaned softly, felt his hands shove the straps of her chemise off her shoulders along with her robe. As he peeled the silk from her breasts he broke the kiss to watch them spill forward. “So damn beautiful,” he sighed, then bent his knees and kissed each ripe swell, tugging on her nipples with his lips, then nudging them with his nose and gently torturing them with his unshaven chin. His mouth back on hers, he whispered, “I want in … inside you.”

“Jack, no. Stop…”

He stood slowly, his gaze sweeping her swollen lips, then her tortured nipples. Sunni’s breath hitched in her throat and she knew he heard it. That’s why he wasn’t backing off, why he hadn’t stepped out of the notch between her legs. His hand went to his back pocket, produced a wrapped condom. “Is that a firm
stop,
or just a wait-a-minute-let-me-catch-my-breath kinda
stop?”

The question hung in the silence. One minute dragged into two.

“That’s what I thought.” He took her hand and laid it against his zipper. Sunni hesitated only a second before her fingers found the metal clasp. When her hands slipped inside his jeans, he said, “Push ‘em down. Free me up.”

She pushed his jeans off his hips, and as he urged her to wrap her legs around him, she bent her knees. He half lifted, half dragged her forward off the counter, and then, in one smooth solid motion, he was inside her.

Sunni gasped in surprise, then again as he bucked his hips forward and sank deeper into her tight sheath.

He was so hot, and so incredibly hard…

Sweet agony was what came to mind as Sunni clung to his sturdy shoulders, each thrust of his hips taking them closer to a mind-numbing, earth-shattering climax.

They were both slick with sweat when surrender joined them in replete moans of victory. Seconds later, he was kissing her as deeply as he was seated, the air around them ripe with the spicy tang of spent passion.

Sunni buried her face against Jack’s neck and tried to catch her breath—tried to rationalize what had just happened. What seemed to always happen when they gave into this powerful sexual attraction they had for each other.

But there was no rationalizing pure ecstasy, Sunni thought. Or how or when she’d fallen so desperately in love with Jack.

“You asleep, Sis?”

Sunni was holding on to him for dear life, too shattered in both body and mind to speak.

“Sis? You all right?”

“Just catching my breath.” Slowly, she leaned back and looked at the man who had become so important to her in such a short time. “That was…”

“Fast,” he breathed heavily, studying her face. “Should we try it a little slower … upstairs?”

* * *

Sunni woke before dawn and slipped out of bed. Quietly, she wrapped her robe around her nakedness, then went downstairs to the bathroom. After she’d given herself her insulin injection, she slipped back upstairs, removed her robe and eased back into bed to curl up next to Jackson’s hot body.

“Everything all right?”

Eyes closed, Sunni snuggled close. “Yes. Go back to sleep.”

She felt him shift his body, the bed creaking more than it would have over a minor adjustment. She opened her eyes to find him on his side, his arm stretched out high on the pillow. “What are you doing?”

His fingers began to play with her hair. “Touching and watching. My two favorite things to do when I’m with you.”

Sunni slid her hand up his chest, her fingers sliding through the soft dark hair to curl around the silver cross that he wore. The cross had three distinct crossbars. She’d never seen him without it. “And what do you think about when you’re touching and watching me, Jack?”

“Lately?”

“Yes, lately.”

“Mostly I think you don’t look sick.”

His answer was unexpected. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means you look good. Better than good.” He offered a small smile. “That’s why it was such a shock when the paramedic said your unconsciousness last night was brought on by hypoglycemia.”

“And you knew what that meant right away?”

He nodded. “But you’re not sick. Not like my dad, anyway. Joe’s right. There’re no similarities except for—”

“Excuse me? Your dad’s a diabetic?”

“Was. Diagnosed at age six. Dead at forty-eight.”

His unexpected declaration hit Sunni like a hard fist to her stomach. She moaned inwardly, tried to keep from wearing her emotions, and sat up slowly. She kept her face averted as she attempted to escape the bed. Her heart was suddenly pounding wildly and there was a rushing noise in her ears.

Jackson reached out and tugged her back down beside him. When she tried to push him away, he leaned over her and pinned her to the mattress with his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I—nothing.”

He tossed the sheet back over both of them, then rested his arm along her side and curled his fingers around her upper arm. “I acted like an ass last night at the hospital. I’m not trying to excuse it, just explain.”

“I haven’t asked for an explanation, Jack. Really. I … I don’t want one.” Sunni closed her eyes, fighting tears.

He kissed her. “Open your eyes, sweet thing.” When she did, he said, “My dad’s diabetes was acute. He had advanced heart problems before age twenty and wasn’t expected to live to thirty. He married my mother when he was twenty-nine against the advice of his family and the doctors, but—”

“Jack, I don’t need an explanation. I—”

“Ssh… Let me get this out. I was born four years later. Dad never worked a day of his life. My mother opened Caponelli’s to support us, and while she was at work I took care of him. I ran bedpans, gave him insulin injections … cooked. Wiped his nose, and the other end, too. There were days at a time when I lived at the hospital. I used to hate it so much that… Well, I used to … is all.”

“Jack, let me up.”

“Ssh… The first thing I thought about last night when I learned you were a diabetic was … oh, hell, this can’t be happening. Not again.”

“Jack, please.”

“That’s why I was angry. Why I—”

“Okay, Jack! I get it.” She shoved hard, and when he let her go, Sunni scrambled off the bed and quickly pulled on her robe. “I don’t recall asking you to be my nursemaid, Jack. It sounds like you’ve had plenty of practice, but I’m not ready to climb into bed and die just yet.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Sometimes honesty wasn’t the best policy, Sunni thought. But then again, Jack’s you-think-it-you-say-it policy had certainly brought her head out of the clouds and settled her feet firmly back on the ground … once more.

Last night she’d been so afraid that the look in his eyes had been disgust. Now she knew it hadn’t been disgust at all. What she’d seen was pity.

Oh, God!
She’d been such a fool.

“Come on, Sis. Talk to me. Why are you looking at me like that? You’re mad. Why?”

How dare he paint such a horrible picture, then ask her why she was mad. “You want me to talk. Well, here it is, Jack. I know what I am, but it’s my problem. Mine. I’m not asking you to share any of it, so you can breathe easy. I’m the free ride, remember? No mess, no strings, no promises. And that’s the way I want it. So don’t worry. You’re not going to have to polish up your bedpan.”

Sunni swore, then went looking for her slippers.

“I thought that was a strange thing for you to say the other night. Now I understand.”

“Understand? Just what is it you understand, Jack?”

“Fear can make a person do and say things they don’t mean. I did that at the hospital last night. I sliced you up pretty good. It works like a safety net. In case you fall you’re forewarned it’s going to happen. You can say, I knew it would happen, or maybe … it’s better this way. Anyway, it’s all crap.” He sat up and shoved himself against the headboard. “You don’t really believe in free rides. Nor do you want it that way.”

Sunni bit down on the inside of her cheek and tightened the sash around her waist with such force she nearly cut herself in two. In the beginning her plan had been just a few nights in his arms. After last night, she’d begun to think there might be a chance for more. This morning that chance had been shredded. No, torched, and what was left was a pile of ashes.

“This mess doesn’t have a solution like one of your cases, Jack. I know you’re the whatever-it-takes cop. The down-and-dirty-is-familiar-territory guy, but I don’t need you to pick up with me where you left off with your father. Thanks, but no thanks.”