Distinguished Service & Every Move You Make (Uniformly Hot!) (19 page)

“You ready to grab a bite?”

Mariah glanced back at her hotel room, thinking that the somber, empty appearance mirrored exactly how she was feeling right now. “Um, actually, I’m beat. I thought I’d, you know, just order something up from room service.”

In all honesty, she didn’t think she could weather another round of “Ooh, it’s a handsome guy” sure to come from the waitresses at any restaurant they went to.

“They have anything good?”

He walked into the room, leaving Mariah clutching the door handle tightly in her hand. “I don’t know. I haven’t looked yet. I thought I’d catch a shower first.”

A lie, to be sure. But right now she just wanted to be alone. Being around a man as strikingly attractive as Zach not only made her feel inadequate, he made her feel hot.

“Okay, then. How about I order from my room, you take your shower, then by the time you come over, the food will probably already be there?”

Didn’t the guy know how to take no for an answer?

Mariah rubbed her temple, feeling the thud-thud of her pulse pick up speed at the mere thought of spending more time around him. “Okay, sure. Why don’t you do that.”

Zach smiled at her and a strange longing filled her stomach. “Is there any food I should avoid ordering for you?”

“A burger and fries should be a pretty safe bet.”

“The works?”

Despite her misgivings, Mariah found herself smiling back. “Even the onions.”

Zach seemed to linger longer than was necessary for the simple exchange. Mariah tilted her head to stare at him. Finally he cleared his throat. “See you in twenty minutes then.”

“Twenty minutes.”

Mariah closed the door after him then collapsed against it, her breath catching in her throat. She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking that Zach had hesitated because he was attracted to her. That he felt even the tiniest fraction of the hectic emotions rolling through her. The thought was too difficult to contemplate.

“Time for a shower, Mariah. A cold one.”

* * *

Z
ACH
COULDN
’
T
exactly put his finger on it, but Mariah’s go-get-it demeanor had taken a nosedive since their drive to the hotel. He pulled his tie off and tossed it across the bed then rolled up his shirtsleeves, the air conditioner just beginning to cool the room to a livable temperature. Maybe it was as she said, that she was simply tired, but somehow he got the impression that the day’s activities weren’t nearly enough to tap into her reservoir of energy.

His gaze slipped to the king-size bed, then to the window where the sun was just sinking below the horizon. He couldn’t help thinking that her weariness was emotional rather than physical. The engaged ex? Probably so. He couldn’t imagine being on the other side of that equation.

Well, actually, yes, he could. Because a week after Kym had given him her marriage ultimatum, she’d been going out with someone else. And, it was rumored they would be making an engagement announcement soon.

How did he feel about that? Zach absently rubbed his neck. He really couldn’t say one way or another. He supposed a part of him was sad that Kym was no longer in his life. But he didn’t regret not agreeing to her demands. So much of his life was unsettled right now. He knew what he wanted, but there was a ways to go before he actually achieved it. And the thought of Kym with another man bothered him not at all.

Which should strike him as odd, shouldn’t it? You’re with a woman for two years and she’s seeing someone else. Shouldn’t that make him at least a little jealous? The thought of her being intimate with another man?

Odd that it didn’t.

Of course, Kym could never understand his need for family ties. Yes, she might be an only child, and her parents were divorced, but there was a big difference between her situation and his, where essentially every last member of the family he’d known was lost to him. His mother. His grandmother. His father.

No, his father wasn’t dead. Or maybe he was. He couldn’t say. When his dad had run out on him and his mother when he was four, he’d been rated as good as dead.

His gaze drifted as if on its own accord back to the large, empty bed, and his thoughts slid to the woman in the room next door. Mariah Clayborn. Now there was a woman he was completely unprepared for. Fresh. Vibrant. Her sexiness was innate, something woven in with her bones, not something worn or fussed with or made up. She was earthy and sassy and so downright sexy he couldn’t stop imagining laying his hands all over her compact body. Of kissing her kissable mouth and thrusting his fingers into all that thick, dark hair, tugging it back to allow him access to her delectable neck. A neck so elegant not even a T-shirt could hide it.

A knock at the door. Probably room service. He pulled the barrier open, but instead of a waiter he found Mariah looking him squarely in the face.

“You’re not really a P.I., are you?”

Zach blinked at her several times to make sure he’d heard correctly. “Hello to you, too. Why don’t you come on in?”

She eyed him almost warily, making him want to laugh, then swept past him into the room, leaving the subtle scent of hotel soap in her wake. She turned to face him, but before she could repeat her question, room service did appear. In the few minutes it took the waiter to set up the tray and for Zach to sign off on the check, he considered how he might respond to Mariah’s question.

Finally they were once again alone. Zach crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at her. “What gave me away? My lack of experience with a gun? Or that I don’t wear a gray overcoat?”

“None and both of the above.”

“Ah.”

A smile played at the corners of her unpainted mouth.

“You’re right,” he said, sitting at the desk table and indicating she should take the seat across from him. “I’m not a P.I. At least not yet, anyway.”

Mariah hesitantly sat down across from him but didn’t touch her food. “Then what are you?”

“Right now? Unemployed.”

Her eyes narrowed.

How much did he tell her? He had yet to get used to the idea of franchising Finders Keepers. And it wasn’t so long ago that he’d flubbed up his explanation to Kym.

“Jennifer Madison knows this?”

“About my being unlicensed.” He nodded. “Yes.” He gestured to her food. “Eat before it gets cold.”

“I’m used to cold food.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Ah.” She smiled around a bite of pickle.

Zach lifted a French fry to his own mouth and nearly choked on his own saliva as he watched the unaffected way she first sucked then bit the pickle in half.

Good God.

“Where are you from?”

Zach lifted his brows. “What if I said Texas?”

“Then I’d have to call you a liar.”

“Not very polite.”

She shrugged. “Not one of my qualities.”

“Indiana.”

“Indiana,” she repeated.

“Uh-huh. You know, the state between Illinois and Ohio?”

“I know where Indiana is.”

“I thought you might.”

Her brown eyes twinkled as she picked up her burger. “So you’re in Texas for a job then?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“In a manner of speaking?”

“That’s what I said.” He put down his own burger and wiped his hands. “Tell you what. You tell me the story behind your becoming a P.I. and I’ll tell you why I want to become one.”

He knew he had her there. He’d sensed a real hesitation earlier when he’d asked her how she came about the job.

“Never mind.” She wiped her own mouth.

“That’s what I thought.”

She squinted at him, as if trying to follow his train of thought.

Zach twisted his lips. “Okay, Mariah. It’s obvious you’ve got something on your mind. So why don’t you just come out and say it?”

“All right, then,” she said quietly, her face draining of all emotion. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Hmm. A proposition. Sounds interesting.” He gestured with his hand as he took another bite of burger. “Go on.”

“I’ll teach you everything I know about being a P.I.”

He nodded. Sounded good so far.

“If you teach me everything I need to know about becoming a desirable woman.”

Zach froze, wondering if part of Mariah’s training included the Heimlich maneuver.

5

M
ARIAH
SAT
STONE
STILL
, waiting for Zach to respond. Well, respond in a way that didn’t include him keeling over face first into his dinner from cardiac arrest.

In all honesty, she hadn’t known she was going to make the offer until it was out of her mouth. Sure, she’d all but guessed that Zach wasn’t a P.I. Not yet, anyway. But the other part…well, the other part was born out of desperation. Having one boyfriend jump ship and marry someone else was one thing. Three definitely indicated there was a problem. And that it originated with her was also clear.

She sat with her hands spread flat on her thighs. How long was too long in terms of a response? Whatever it was, she was sure Zach had gone over it.

She cleared her throat. “By, um, teach, I mean…verbally instruct me.” Her face burned so hot she was afraid her skin might melt off. “As I, um, will verbally instruct you, as well.”

“Verbally instruct…” he repeated, as if unable to wrap his mind around the words.

“Yes. Seeing that we only have these few hours tonight, I don’t really think there’s time for much else. We go back to Houston in the morning, you deliver the dress to your client, case closed.”

He remained silent, although he had begun chewing the food in his mouth again. A good sign, no?

“Right?” she prompted.

He swallowed then coughed a couple times. “Right.”

He took a long swallow of water then sat back in his chair, his gaze plastered to her face. Mariah had never felt so uncomfortable in her life, so under the microscope. Was he even now thinking of pointers to give her on her appearance? She lifted a hand to her hair then tucked it behind her ear.

“So is it a deal?”

His eyes twinkled at her. Great. He was laughing at her. That’s just what she needed.

“Deal,” he said.

Mariah let out a long breath. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

The heat of embarrassment she’d felt mere moments before was replaced by an entirely different heat. A sizzling awareness that wound around and around her body then snaked inside, filling her stomach with liquid warmth.

She shifted uncomfortably. Of course his agreement was only because he wanted to be tutored in the art of private investigation—not because he wanted her. As long as she kept that straight, she’d be safe.

“So who should start?” she asked quietly, her voice barely audible to her own ears.

He slowly got up, rounded the desk, then held out his hand for her to take. She blinked up into his eyes, unsure what he was going to do.

“I say I start,” he said. “But in order to do so, I need you to stand for me.”

Mariah swallowed hard. Okay, so she was going to get a lecture on her poor posture. It wasn’t as if she’d hadn’t heard it before. George often cracked that she walked like a guy. She considered Zach’s hand, thought about not taking it, then forced herself to put her fingers in his. She was completely unprepared for the jolt that zinged through her, further heightening her awareness of the man gazing at her. Her tutor in all things sexy.

She stood on shaky legs and faced him, holding her shoulders rigid, chest out, just like one of her girlfriends had schooled her.

But Zach didn’t tell her to stand differently. In fact, he wasn’t paying attention to her posture at all. He was staring directly into her eyes, holding her captive. Then he trailed his fingers over her jaw then into her hair, leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

E
VEN
Z
ACH
KNEW
the meaning of the saying, “Never look a gift horse in the mouth.” He’d read somewhere that it had something to do with rotting teeth, but that’s not how he was interpreting it just then.

Mariah’s lips were soft and irresistibly sweet. He brushed his mouth against them once, twice, then pressed against them more insistently.

One minute he had been wondering how to get her into the bed—so close but so empty—the next she was offering herself up to him.

Oh, yeah. He knew this wasn’t what she had in mind. Her idea probably included makeshift chalkboards and longhand notes. But something in him had responded to her softly made request on a fundamental level he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore just then. He only knew a need to kiss her, to show her how desirable she truly was. And now that he was doing that, he wanted more. Much more.

At first Mariah didn’t appear to know how to respond to the unexpected attention. Her lips were unmoving, her chocolate-brown eyes wide. Zach dipped his tongue inside the corner of her mouth and she made a strangled little sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep within. Then she leaned against him as if unable to stand without his support and her tongue made a few furtive moves of its own.

Good God, but the woman had no idea how incredibly wanted she already was. He slid his hand to rest at the back of her neck, finding her skin hot, her hair soft, as he deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue with his, exploring all the textures and tastes until his own breathing came in ragged gasps.

There was a directness about Mariah that was undeniable. The moment she registered what he had in mind, she pressed her hands flat against his shirtfront, plainly exploring the muscles beyond, boldly exploring the planes of his abdomen, then skimming back up and over his shoulders and arms. Each pass felt like a flame flicking along his nerve endings, making him want her more with each second that passed.

He felt her fingers on his pants front and drew in a quick breath. He trapped her hand with his and smiled down at her. The shadow of sudden uncertainty on her face made him want to groan. She genuinely didn’t get it, how much he wanted her. Just a single move or gesture and she questioned it, then processed it as a rejection.

“I’m hesitating because I want to make sure this is what you want,” he said quietly.

Her gaze moved from one of his eyes to the other, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Do I strike you as the type of girl to do something she doesn’t want to?”

He chuckled softly. “Oh, no, Mariah. You strike me as many things, but definitely not that.”

She tugged his shirt out of his pants and rubbed her fingertips over his skin. His breath hissed out between his teeth.

“So hush up and let’s continue our lesson.”

She edged him toward the bed, then pushed him to lie across it, leaving him to wonder just who was supposed to be tutoring whom. From where he stood—or lay—Mariah didn’t need any help in the sex department. She straddled him, then up and off went her T-shirt, revealing a plain white bra underneath. Then that scrap of material was gone, as well, revealing breasts that were more nipples than flesh. A groan wound through his groin then exited out his throat as he caught the stiff peaks between his fingers. She gasped and caught his hands, pressing them harder against her sweet flesh.

Mariah felt as though his palms were branding her, claiming her. She shifted her hips until she cradled his erection between her thighs, a shudder beginning somewhere down around her toes and winding up and up until she was positive her very hair shivered.

The combination of her doubts about him wanting her and the proof of his desire made her head swim with conflicting emotions. Emotions she wanted to clarify. To challenge until all that remained was pure human need. She fumbled for his belt buckle and pushed his shirt up. Her movements were erratic and anxious as the back of her fingers skimmed the skin of his chest and his abdomen, then lower to tug down his zipper.

In one smooth move Zach rolled her onto her back until she found herself trapped between him and the mattress. He kissed her deeply, then ran his tongue along the column of her neck. “I’ve been fantasizing about having you on top of me since watching you ride that horse,” he whispered, then kissed her ear lobe. “But I’m afraid I don’t have the patience for that right now.”

She marveled at his words. He wanted her. Now. The knowledge was more powerful than any touch and filled her with such wanton longing she nearly cried out from the intensity of it. He quickly shed his shirt and his pants. With her eyes, she devoured every inch of him, from his well-developed biceps and six-pack abs to his narrow hips. She wondered if all Yanks were built as well as Zach Letterman without having spent an hour on a ranch. Then he shed his briefs and she saw the very proof of his want of her, thick and long and pulsing as he rolled a condom over the turgid flesh. Her breath caught in her throat and she restlessly wet her lips as she reached for him.

“Good God,” he said between clenched teeth as he sank, inch by glorious inch, into her slick flesh.

Mariah’s back arched off the bed and her hands grasped his hips. Otherwise she was rendered completely immobile. She could do little more than wonder at the scorching heat swirling inside her. She felt the contrasting sensations of being utterly filled yet hungry for an unnamable something hovering just beyond her reach.

A long, deep thrust brought her so much closer she nearly cried out. She dug her fingers into his firm rear and ground up against him.

Zach cursed against her neck then kissed her again, long and hard. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to last, Mariah.”

“Shush up, cowboy, and make love to me.”

And he did. Sweat trickling from his handsome brow, his straight white teeth gnashing against each other, he lifted himself from her then rocked into her, his arms straining, every sculpted muscle standing out in relief. Mariah gasped for air and touched his biceps, fascinated with the size of them…the size of him as he surged inward again. She threw her head back and moaned, then heard a long, almost reluctant groan from him.

No, no, no, she wanted to cry out. Not yet.

But even as she thought the words, she knew it was too late. Zach grew rigid above her, driving deep and hard as he rode out his own climax. Mariah swallowed hard, biting back frustration and grasping his hips tightly to hers, seeking but knowing the moment was out of her reach for good.

Zach buried his face against her neck, his damp chest heaving against her bare breasts. Mariah blinked back sudden, hot tears as she drew her hands up and over his arms and back, her feet locked around his calves. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, resisting the urge to bite into the salty flesh.

Long moments later, he drew back, his eyes intense and probing.

She smiled at him and kissed him, hoping to erase the curious look from his face. “Hmm…I’d say as first lessons go, that was a good one, Dr. Letterman.”

A slight grin from him, but still the watchful shadow in his green eyes. “Nice try, Mariah.” He propped himself on one elbow then drew a finger along the curve of her jawline, sending little shivers everywhere. “You didn’t come, did you?”

Whoa. Okay, Mariah guessed there was a first time for everything. And that definitely applied here. She’d never been asked if she’d achieved orgasm before. Of course, she never had. Not during intercourse, anyway. But no one knew that except her.

“I, um…” She stumbled over the words.

He kissed her long and hard, his flesh still filling her to overflowing. “You’re tense.”

“I’m tired,” she disagreed.

He squinted at her, as if the different way of looking at her would reveal something else. “Uh-huh.”

He slipped a hand between them, the back of his fingers skimming her stomach. She drew in a quick breath, then gasped altogether when his fingertips sought and found the bit of flesh at the apex of her thighs. He gave a gentle tug then squeezed. Mariah’s back came up off the bed and the chaos that had filled her moments before returned tenfold, swirling around and around, twisting and turning, until she was rendered breathless and tense. Then it exploded, chaos, rushing through her bloodstream at the speed of light, her muscles convulsing and quivering.

Sweet, long minutes later, she cracked her eyes open and stared at the man who hadn’t moved but for his hand, his fingers still stroking her swollen flesh.

“How…how did you do that?”

He grinned, making her heart hiccup. “You don’t really want me to answer that question, do you?”

She smiled. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

He slowly slid his hand out from between them. Mariah braced herself for him to roll off her. Only he didn’t. “Guess what happened while you were off having fun all by yourself?”

Mariah restlessly licked her lips. “What?”

He surged into her, chasing the air from her lungs.

“You don’t really want me to answer that question, do you?”

Mariah moaned as he rocked into her again. “I, um, think you just did.”

* * *

Z
ACH
LAY
BACK
and watched Mariah sleep, holding her to his chest with one arm, his other hand supporting the back of his head. A complicated woman, this Mariah Clayborn. He ran his fingertips along her arm and watched her nipples pucker and harden. One moment she’d been all hot and bothered, unable to get his pants off fast enough, the next minute she had tensed up on him so thoroughly that the sensation of her slick muscles squeezing him had inadvertently toppled him over the edge. Then the rapidness of her climax when he touched her told him there was a mental battle going on inside that pretty head of hers that he couldn’t hope to understand. Not unless he could convince her to voluntarily share it. The problem was he didn’t think she knew it was there, or have a clue how deep it went.

They’d continued having hot and steamy sex, and having had his first climax, he was able to sustain later bouts, but in order for Mariah to achieve orgasm he’d had to rely on other skills. Later on he’d used his probing fingers in conjunction with intercourse and had instantly blown apart when the tactic worked. But he felt a deep-rooted desire to have her reach her climax at the same time he did and for the same reason.

It was a desire he feared might be as deeply rooted as his need to change career paths and get a nationwide chain of Finders Keepers off the ground.

Zach frowned, taken aback by the comparison. Surely he wasn’t comparing something as weighty as his need to do something more meaningful with his life with something as seemingly meaningless as sex with a woman he’d known for less than twenty-four hours? But as Mariah murmured in her sleep and sought closer contact with him, he knew that, indeed, he was.