How Cat Got a Life (9 page)

She arched her back, jutting out her rear to give him better access.

“Turn over,” he ordered once more.

She rolled around, found him up on his knees, staring down at her.

In silence, he stretched out over her. His erect shaft nudged her belly. Her knees sprang apart, and she realized that if he made a move to enter her without protection, she wouldn’t try to stop him.

He settled between her legs, but inched higher up, so the restless motion of her hips wouldn’t tempt him inside.

“No,” he told her. “Not tonight.”

His mouth came down to her neck and found the spot that ignited all her senses.

“Oh my God, oh my God.” Her voice drifted around them, an incoherent stream of sound. Her head trashed side to side, at the same time seeking and avoiding his lips as their impact shattered her usual reserve.

Brock traveled down her body, pausing to kiss her breasts. Teasing, tugging, gently biting the peaked nipples. Tension screamed through her, and Cat thought she’d lose her mind if he didn’t do something soon. She felt his muscles bunch as he got ready to move again, and the prospect sent a shudder along her limbs. She tried to wriggle up on the bed to shorten the remaining distance, but his hands gripped her waist to hold her still.

His warm breath swept across her belly, not touching, barely nuzzling. Then, finally, his hands curled around her thighs and he urged her legs wide, impossibly wide. He repositioned her, angling her hips upward. An almost unbearable heat exploded inside her as his mouth came down on her.

His tongue opened and searched and stroked and tasted. Pleasure washed over her as he possessed her with intimacy she hadn’t known existed. Her hips bucked and reared, out of control. Ragged sounds burst from her throat as she obeyed his command, not hiding her pleasure from him. The cool façade she had learned to hide behind combusted and fell to ashes.

All too soon, he drove her over the edge. She arched like a bow on the bed as contractions seized her, ripping through her on a release that splintered her mind. Tears seeped out through tightly closed lids. She screamed out his name, so loud that Brock had to reach up and place a hand across her mouth to silence her.

When the waves of completion stilled, he released her and got up, but only long enough to turn down the heating.

Her body felt liquid, boneless. She lay languid on the bed and allowed him to lift her up and tuck her beneath the covers. When he stretched out beside her, she curled into his side. His arms closed around her. He pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“Get some rest,” Brock told her. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet.”

With a sigh, Cat closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

He woke her twice more, and brought her to violent climax each time, until she lost all awareness of what was real and what was part of a dream.

In the morning, Cat became aware of the loss of Brock’s body heat. Her eyes blinked open. He stood beside the bed, looking down at her, already pulling his clothes on. The reading lamp bathed the room in muted yellow light.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” he said.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Nine o’clock.” He finished strapping the holstered handgun to his ankle before leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “I’m sorry. It’s a family gathering, arranged weeks ago. I have to drive up to Maryland. I won’t be back until late. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow morning.”

“I see.” She lifted a brow.

“Cat. It’s not like that.” He caught her chin with the edge of his hand. “I’m not running away because I spent last night in bed with you and have scored you off some mental to-do list. I have a prior engagement, and you have to admit, it makes sense to stand back a little, get some perspective.”

She pursed her mouth and nodded, unwilling to argue.

“Good girl,” he said, and leaned down for another kiss, longer this time.

When the door closed after him, Cat sank against the mattress and sighed. The words she’d longed to hear were nothing to do with love. Far more casual, they would have meant just as much to her, but he’d never said them.

Would you like to join me
?

Was it really too much to expect that he would include her in his day?

****

Cat prowled about the hotel. She had coffee in the lobby and settled by the pool to leaf through a magazine. A few minutes later, she bounced to her feet again and returned to her room to flick through the television channels.

Images of Brock bombarded her brain. She saw him lying naked in the bath, dark whorls of hair covering his powerful chest—arching in the water as he shouted out a hoarse cry of release—bent over her on the bed, droplets from his hair falling on the inside of her thighs.

The sensations he’d wrought from her made her body flush with heat. She had asked for mindless abandon, and he had certainly given it to her. Even now, the memory sent a tingle of awareness along her skin.

All at once, Cat couldn’t face the loneliness a second longer. Dalton had gone on his daytrip to the shore, and it tore her up that Brock remained distant, too aloof to allow her to lay claim to his Sunday. She ached to belong to someone, to be his first and last priority.

I come by on Saturdays, to practice in case one day I have kids of my own.

The memory of his words pierced the wall of anxiety around her. She’d go and help out at the children’s home. She’d never had much to do with small children, and they made her nervous, all blunt questions and bold eyes that saw hidden truths. The experience would do her good.

As she drove down Main Street, a woman was busy hauling a display board outside a drugstore. Cat hadn’t expected the shops to be open on a Sunday. On impulse, she pulled over and went inside. If Brock gave her another night, she wanted to feel him inside her. The thought of that power rippling through her as they came together made a hot flush flare all over her.

Idly, she loitered around the rows of display racks until she found the condoms. She cruised by twice more and chose by color, a dark purple. She snatched up a box. Holding it hidden in her palm, Cat waited until no other customers stood in line by the cash register.

The stout woman with brassy blond hair piled up on her head took the box and ran it past the scanner. “The barcode’s not working.” She shrugged her shoulders and shouted out to the thin old man stacking the shelves. “Jack, can you bring another box of condoms? The purple ones?”

As luck would have it, a group of women walked in through the door just as the words rang in the air. Cat recognized one of them from the Thursday concert.

The gaunt man returned with the condoms and handed them to the woman behind the cash register.

“So, you are the lady working in the sheriff’s office,” the woman said to Cat.

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know anyone else in town?”

The newcomers clustered by the counter, waiting for their turn, listening in to the conversation. As they watched her, their eyes turned cold and their expressions accusing, like the inquisition setting up court.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Cat could see where the conversation was heading, and this time Brock would surely strangle her.

“These are not for him,” she blurted out. “My stepson wants me to do the Mrs. Robinson thing. You know, seduce some of his friends.”

Silence fell. Everyone stared, mouths agape. Her face burned, but she forced herself to hold her head high and walk out of the store with unhurried steps.

As Cat sat in her car, terror closed in around her. Instead of salvaging the situation, she might have just made it much, much worse.

Chapter Six

“Brock’s not usually late. Oh, there he is. What’s on earth’s wrong with him?” Karen’s normally calm features furrowed with concern.

The entrance door flung open with a force that rattled the frame. Cat didn’t dare to turn around. Hunching down behind her computer, she listened to the heavy trail of footsteps that thundered across the floor toward her.

“In my office. Now.”

She winced at the controlled fury in his voice and stole a glance over her shoulder. Brock appeared ready to explode. His arm shot up to a vertical line that pointed to the half-glazed door.

Cat got up slowly, gaining a few precious seconds. Karen’s eyes strained in their sockets as her gaze shuttled between the pair of them. Brock stood like a stone pillar, waiting until Cat reached the threshold of his office. Then he bore down with the speed of a hurricane and slammed the door shut behind them.

“I want to know why three women called me this morning to warn me that a person of questionable morals works in my office. What the hell did you do this time? Who’s you latest target for seduction? I had no idea that in your bid to experience
the kind of abandon you read about in books
you were willing to throw yourself at any man.”

He pulled out the chair from behind his desk and slumped down. Anger seemed to drain out of him, leaving a dark shine of disappointment in his eyes. “You really had me fooled with all that soft innocence. I should have known it was an act.”

“I—”

“You can bloody well listen until I’m finished.”

“No,” she yelled. “Don’t try to brush me off with that again.” Fury rose inside her at his condemnation of her. She planted her hands on his desk and leaned closer. “I’ve done nothing but try to protect your reputation. I know it was a stupid remark, but I was under some pressure, and that’s the best I could come up with.”

He exhaled slowly. “What happened? No one is willing to give me details.”

She told him about the box of condoms and the Mrs. Robinson remark. “They were all staring at me, challenging me to admit that I hoped to sleep with you. What did you expect me to do? Tell them I’d give it my best shot but you were a hard nut to crack?”

His mouth quirked. “My nuts are no harder than any other man’s.”

“What? You think this is funny?” She stared at him, aghast. Then humor began to tickle in her belly, seeking a way out.

Brock propped his elbows on the table and hid his face in his hands. Groaning, he shook his head, but Cat could see that he too was struggling to keep the laughter inside.

“Did you really think that I...?” She reached out a hand and gently touched the thick locks of dark brown hair. “It’s four years since I last slept with a man. You must realize I wouldn’t offer myself to just anyone. I simply didn’t want to deal with another situation where we both wanted it, but the practical considerations of birth control got in the way.”

He raised his head and studied her with a thoughtful look. “There’s only one thing we can do now.”

She waited in silence.

“We must appear together in public, make it clear that we’re involved. Those women have no sense of humor. It’s up to us to make people accept that you were joking.”

Cat exhaled in relief, unable to stop her lips from curving into a smile. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Good. We can start tonight. Do you have a dress? It’s black tie.”

“I don’t, but I’ll have one by tonight if you give me the afternoon off.”

“Scoot.” Brock waved her away. “And please try to save me from further embarrassment. I’ve got a reelection to think of next year. Consorting with a woman of dubious morals could ruin my campaign.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Cat saluted and scampered out.

Her heart soared. He’d been jealous. That scorching anger had been a sure sign that he felt possessive about her, regarded her as his property.

“Everything okay?” Karen asked as Cat flounced back to her desk.

“Couldn’t be better.” She beamed at the young deputy. “Sometimes, doing something stupid is exactly the right thing to do.”

****

“This is Catherine Bridgewater.” Brock steered her toward a broad shouldered man with curly russet hair and piercing gray eyes. “Hank Malone is our chief financial officer.

Cat shook yet another hand and smiled. Curious stares had followed her every move. If she hadn’t been aware of the effort it took to organize a formal party, she’d have assumed that the gathering at the mayor’s residence had been arranged with the express purpose of allowing people to inspect her.

She’d bought a sleeveless sheath dress in black satin that cost far more than she could afford, but she had cast aside all thoughts of their precarious financial situation. The high back and white tuxedo collar gave her a demure look, offsetting the impact of the slit on the side that revealed a full length of leg. Brock hadn’t said anything when he picked her up, but his sharp intake of breath had made the expense worth every cent.

“So, you’re the young lady who tries to invade our offices,” Hank Malone said.

Cat gave the man an apologetic smile. “My stepson wanted to try the Clock Tower Challenge. I’m an experienced rock climber, and I felt it safer not to let him do it alone.”

“Brock keeps asking for extra funds so he can post a security guard permanently outside the Town Hall, but I keep refusing. They’ll just pick another building.”