Danger of Desire (5 page)

He kneeled before me at the edge of the bed staring at me sitting in nothing but my stockings, garters and heels. He pulled me to the edge of the bed and slowly, tantalizingly, ran a finger up my leg, starting at my ankle and then to my knee and then my thigh. He teased the tender skin at the top of my stocking again, and then trailed that finger higher, teasing my hot, wet passage. I gasped, almost falling back bonelessly on the bed only managing to stay in place by clutching Donovan’s shoulders.

“You want me, Pet,” Donovan said softly. “I know you do. I want to hear you say it, though. Tell me what you want.” It was spoken softly, but it was a command, and my pussy got even wetter at the sound. It was always like this with him. He demanded that I lower my defenses and give him everything.

I fought myself trying to find some way—any way—to keep some shred of control, but Donovan kept me off balance stroking my wet slit lightly and then pushing in one finger and then two and then drawing back until I was writhing and moaning and couldn’t stand any more.

“Yes,” I cried. “I want you. You’re the first thing I think of in the morning, and the last thing I think of at night. I imagine it’s your fingers on me when I play with myself, and I remember your body in my dreams.” I spat the words at him. In that moment, I almost hated him. I hated knowing that he could just walk away. He had never made a commitment. He made no promises. No one else had ever known me like he did, though, and if he walked away he’d be walking away from
me
and there’d be no recovering from that.

“Look at me,” Donovan said quietly. I squirmed under his weight unwilling to meet his eyes. “Look at me, Pet,” he insisted. I raised my eyes to his and suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen left in the world.

His eyes were dilated until there was nothing but pupil visible. I could see the vein pulsing at his throat and hear his ragged breathing. He was consumed by his desire, and his desire was consuming me.

“You belong to me, Pet,” he growled. “Remember that. Every minute… every day.” His voice was low and intense--sandpaper over steel. “I know you, Pet. I know what it’s like when you come. I know what you look like, what you sound like. You can try to fake it, but you can’t. You believe that you belong to me, or I’ll know it.”

In less time then I takes to describe, he stripped off his clothes and was back between my legs, his heavy cock pressing into me.

“Oh God, Donovan,” I whimpered, “Please…
please
…” I was certain I was going to go up in flames the heat between our bodies was so intense.

In a split second, Donovan had plunged his cock deep into my aching pussy. I cried out in shock and pleasure, my inner walls stretching to accommodate his size. He held me in place with his weight and pressed his lips against mine, their velvet texture teasing me until I opened to allow his tongue access.

He rocked his hips against me, settling his cock even deeper inside me and I raised my eyes to his. His eyes were intense, searching my face for any reaction and I decided that the time for running was past. I closed my eyes and allowed the feelings that were washing through my body to take hold and mingle with the intrinsic need I had for him. When I opened my eyes again I let all my feelings—lust, vulnerability, trust, love—rise to the surface. I rolled my body into his and felt the shudder that overtook him as he realized that I truly believed that I belonged to him.

As if a dam had broken, Donovan began to move. He used long, smooth strokes that flexed his whole body and I felt my release coiling in my belly. He pumped deeper, and harder, and I gasped for air in a world where breathing was almost impossible.

“Oh God, Pet,” he groaned, and I pushed my hands into his hair, pulling his face down to mine, kissing him so hard I tasted blood. I didn’t care. I was crazed. I met his every thrust with a thrust of my own, lifting my hips off the bed, almost throwing him off me. He pulled away and bent to the pulse at the base of my throat pulling the skin between his teeth. I let out a little shriek as it triggered my second orgasm and it tore through my body like wildfire. With a jerk and a shudder, Donovan let my spasming muscles pull him over and I felt him come as he filled me with his hot release.

Donovan rolled us over ‘til I rested on his side as we came back to reality. He felt warm and wonderful beside me and I realized that I truly did belong to him. My dirty little secret… for now.

The Truth Hurts

“No. There’s nothing wrong. I’m just… tired, I guess.” I said.

I
was
tired. I could feel it in my back and in my neck. My shoulders were up around my ears and when I consciously tried to drop them, I was surprised I couldn’t hear the muscles creak.

“If it’s a problem we can try to get this guy tomorrow night,” Donovan said.

I sighed. I didn’t think I was going to be any better tomorrow night.

“That’s okay, Donovan. I’ll be ready at nine. It’ll be fine.”

Donovan just looked at me from behind his aviators and I wished I could see his eyes. His face was totally blank, but I knew that if I could just see his eyes I’d know what he was thinking.

He stepped forward and I could feel the heat radiating from him. I had never known another man whose internal thermostat was set so high. He was hot—in more ways than one—and I needed to be careful or I was going to have a bad burn.

I decided that I wasn’t up for that direct a confrontation so I took a slow step backward.

“Nine,” I said and moved to open my car door. I got in and started the engine, jumping in my seat as Donovan rapped on my window.

“I’ll take you to dinner after,” he said quietly. “You’ve lost weight—you must eat, Pet.”

I tilted my head in acceptance and drove off as soon as he’d stepped away from the vehicle. The last thing I needed was to run over Donovan’s foot.

I was a little surprised that he’d noticed I’d lost weight. I’d been wearing sweaters to the office when I was doing paperwork, and the weight loss wasn’t always noticeable in leather, so I’d been sticking to that for distraction jobs. I guess I should have expected it. The man practically had x-ray vision.

No one else had noticed. Not even my mother. The only thing Herself noticed was that I hadn’t asked for a second helping of mashed potatoes on Sunday. All it had taken to distract her, though, was reminding her that I’d been invited to Cousin Mary Katie’s wedding shower. Then she was off on her when-are-going-to-get-married-and-settle-down kick and I didn’t have to say anything more for the rest of the evening.

I hadn’t been out on a date in a month. Had only been out once or twice total since the last time I’d been with Donovan. Just hadn’t seen the point.

I parked my Mini in my standard space next to the back entry, thankful that at least it wasn’t raining. The weather had been nasty and damp for the past two days and after losing Donovan’s heat, I felt the cold all the way into my bones. Tonight was going to be even worse, and I was trying to think of some way of achieving full bimbo status without completely sacrificing comfort, when I finally made it up the stairs and to my apartment door.

I’d taken the stairs out of habit. I made it a habit. It was a small change, but one that I was content with. I’d made several small changes lately. I ordered a treadmill off one of the home shopping channels and had it delivered. I found that I didn’t hate running nearly so much when I didn’t have an annoying brother dragging me out of bed to do it. It folded up and hid in the closet when I wasn’t using it, and I liked not being reminded of its presence all the time. I didn’t make it every day, but I ran probably three times a week. I kept my client info on my laptop and did most of my work out of my car. The office still had too many memories.

Working as a Private Investigator has often put me in the path of some really unhappy people. Usually it just takes a quick tongue and quicker feet and I can avoid trouble. Domestic cases, though, were tricky. It doesn’t matter how quick your tongue is when a psycho blames you for his wife leaving him and taking the kids with her. I learned that the hard way, and I was still a mess. I guess I should have expected it, but it was the first time that I knew there was nothing I could’ve done to save myself.

It was not a good thing.

My life didn’t flash before my eyes. I almost wish it had. No… the only thing that I remember thinking was that I was alone. After it was over I thought about it more, and it wasn’t that I didn’t have people who cared about me—I did. I do. My brothers, my parents, Bridget and the guys at the office… they all care.

What I didn’t have was someone who would truly understand why I did what I did and remember and hold that understanding in their heart even after I was gone. My family would remember, but never understand. More likely, they would remember and never forgive me for it. And the terrible part—the part that hurt even after all my bruises healed, and the bad guy was behind bars where he belonged—thanks to
me
—was that there was someone who understood, but I could never ask him to be responsible for that memory. If I asked, he would do it; but I couldn’t ask. I didn’t have the right.

I wanted that right.

I knew that if the situation was reversed and something happened to take him from my world, I would never forget him, never doubt his actions or his decisions, and I would never get over it. When I realized that, I cried for two days. I knew the truth:  I loved him.

It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to accept. Oh yeah, finding Liam and his lay-of-the-day doing the testicular tango gave me a new definition for “marital problems,” but I was a victim, and there is a certain righteous indignation that protects a victim. Donovan hadn’t done anything wrong, though. With Donovan, the only thing I had fallen victim to was love, and there was no righteous indignation to protect me from that.

As the weeks passed, I’d come to accept the situation and tried to move on. There is nothing more tiresome than an unwanted admirer, and I refused to allow that to be my role in his life. I’d only seen him a few times in the past month—he’d had business in New York City that had taken him out of town. I’d done a couple of distraction jobs with Jasper, and kept myself busy doing background checks for faceless corporations and taking pictures of cheating husbands. I worked, and I ran, and I tapped away at my computer… and I exhausted myself so that when I slept I wouldn’t dream of a world with no Donovan.

Not wanting to think about the evening’s agenda, I pulled my treadmill out and stretched before climbing on it. I threw James Bond—Sean Connery, of course—into the DVD player and set the timer for an hour. If I was lucky I’d be able to make it for an hour, but if not, I’d try again next time. At least the scenery was guaranteed to be good.

I’d invested in a pair of wireless headphones that I could wear while I was running and I have to say, I love those things. I can run around the whole apartment and never have to worry about tripping on wires or missing the clever parts of the dialogue. I just wish they were waterproof so I could listen to my movies in the shower. I guess it’s something to recommend to the scientists someday. Hell, I can’t be the only one who’d buy them. So, I ran for an hour, put the treadmill away—still unwilling for anyone else to know of its existence—and then hopped in the shower to rinse the day’s residue away

Standing under the water’s spray I finally reflected on the evening. I was going to have to spend time with Donovan before the take down and then again, afterwards when we had dinner. I hadn’t spent that much time alone with him in forever, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it. I supposed it was time to brush off that old Irish talent of dissembling, and just act like there’s nothing new under the sun.

There are two kinds of social lies. First, there are lies told for someone else’s benefit. If your best friend asks you if her red spandex miniskirt looks good you say “yes” and then you get excited and distracted by the incredible black swishy dress that you found for her on the sale rack. You’ve saved her feelings and saved her embarrassment without ever having to tell the truth. Second are the lies that one tells for one’s own benefit. You know… “I can’t come to dinner tonight, Mom, I have to work.” No hurt feelings, and no Hail Marys.

I figured that tonight I would be employing a combination of the two.

I looked at the clock and figured I had enough time to take a nap before getting ready, so I set my alarm and laid down, my now exhausted body falling immediately asleep.

When I woke, it was to the feeling that there was someone in my room. I suppose it says something that it didn’t scare me.

I stretched my arms over my head before looking around and seeing Donovan sitting watching me.

“Job’s been cancelled, Pet,” he said, never one to mince words.

I felt a little disappointed, but figured it was for the best.

“What happened?” I asked, curious how they’d managed without me.

“Appendicitis.Fella’s currently in surgery. Started having pains and checked himself into St. Benedict’s. We turned him in to the police just after he was admitted.” Donovan’s lip quirked at the corner. “Guess someone knew you needed a nap.”

I smiled at his teasing.

“Yep, God knows all about naps. It’s in the Commandments, I think… Thou shalt not interrupt a woman’s beauty sleep.” I joked back.