Silk Confessions (12 page)

“You mean no sex?” It had been a long time for her before her conference table interlude with Wes. A very long time.

Since she had the feeling Wes was Mr. Sexual Experience, she had no intention of admitting he was only her second sex partner. “Not sex
per se,
but the pleasure of physical contact. The kisses. The touching.” He shook his head all of a sudden. “And it’s not a damn bit of my business.”

She had the feeling he was just playing the gentle man for her tonight after the ugly message on her front door, but something told her Wes still wanted her the same way
she still wanted him. The angry words her stalker had left hadn’t erased the hunger she felt for Wes. If anything, she only craved the sensual connection with him all the more.

“Who says I went without touches?” She decided it couldn’t hurt to have a little fun with Wes tonight and up the heat with some suggestive conversation.

And maybe she was a smidge offended that he looked at her years of abstinence with what seemed damn close to pity, when that time had helped her to look past sex and desire to see what people really wanted from her.

Of course, that trick hadn’t worked with Wes. She still had no idea what he wanted from her since desire had clouded her well-trained eyes from the moment he first strolled into her apartment.

“I got the impression you closed the door on men for a few years.” He straightened, his posture no longer lazy and comfortable, but tense and alert.

The new topic of conversation seemed to have his full attention. And didn’t that soothe her old insecurities? She couldn’t help but enjoy the way Wes took a definite interest in her and her sexual experiences.

“Don’t discount the value of solo pleasure.” Her heart beat faster at the frank interest in Wes’s smoky gray gaze. “I assure you, I can bring myself to orgasm faster than any man on the planet.”

Understanding lit his gaze as he followed her line of thinking.

“You realize you’ve just issued a challenge I can’t refuse?” Mischief danced in his dark eyes as he leaned closer.

“That’s not a challenge, it’s a fact. I’m living this body from the inside, Detective, so it only makes sense that I know exactly what revs it up.” What was it about the male
psyche that fueled men to tout their sexual prowess at every given opportunity? “It’s a physiological advantage no man could fully compete with, al though I’ll be the first to admit I’d rather have your hands on me than mine.”

She scooted closer to him on the couch, putting her self in easy reach. She didn’t think she’d recover this level of desire after coming home to find her apartment vandalized. But maybe she needed to be with Wes to night to feel whole again. Strong. The fears and the worries of a few hours ago faded away as the temperature soared between them.

“You’d prefer I touch you, yet you think you can make yourself hit your personal high note faster than me?” He grinned wickedly, but didn’t venture any closer to her.

“It’s just biology.” And very unimportant considering the way her heart slugged harder against her ribs. She’d had enough time in her life to experience the limited joys of solo sex. As long as Wes was within reach, she planned to make decadent use of that lean, strong body of his. “Besides, the orgasms are much better when there is a friend to share them with.”

Refusing to wait for him to touch her any longer, she picked up his hand and tucked it under her shirt. Farther, higher, until he covered her lace-trimmed breast with his palm.

“Really?” Flexing his fingers, he squeezed gently. “What if you did the stroking, but a friend was around to watch? What caliber of orgasms would you achieve then, I wonder?”

Sidling closer, she arched more heavily into his hand, craving the heat of those strong, nimble fingers. She couldn’t imagine playing out the scenario he suggested. The vision of him watching while she…

No doubt, it would be hot.

“I already flashed you in the alley.” She moaned with pleasure as his other hand snaked up her shirt and molded around her other breast. “Don’t you think I’ve been adventurous enough for one night?”

“Not even close. Whether you admit it or not, I’m guessing you’ve got a few years of abstinence to make up for. And lucky for you, I’m very glad to oblige.” He tugged off her sweatshirt but left her bra on, his gaze lingering in a way that was oh-so-flattering. “I
do
like it when you watch me,” she admitted, wondering if those silver-gray eyes of his could turn any darker. They already glowed with steely intensity as he watched her slip off her sweatpants. She left her white lace panties around her hips since he seemed to like the visual of her lingerie and Tempest planned to give him an eyeful.

“I promise I won’t even blink.” True to his word, his gaze locked on her undergarments that were semitransparent. “Just tell me where you want me.”

Glad he gave her full run of the show, she shouted an order to Eloise to stay put while she stretched out on the couch. She usually slept with the bed pulled out, but with her blood rushing through her veins in a geyser-hot flood, she didn’t want to take the time to rearrange the furniture.

She wanted Wes’s undivided attention. When he slid deep inside her tonight, she wanted to be able to look in his eyes. And when he found his release, she wanted to see that clench of his muscles, the sheen of sweat over his velvety skin.

Wes made her feel too beautiful, too sexy, to hide behind a silken blindfold.

“You can sit right there.” She left him on the edge of
the couch while she flung one leg over his lap, the other resting on the cushions behind him.

Leaning back on a mountain of throw pillows, she peered down the length of her smooth pale skin to his muscular thighs, lean waist and square shoulders. He’d stripped off his shirt and tie at some point, his trousers only partially zipped but still clinging to his hips. His erection strained the fabric even with the fly loosened, his white cotton boxers stretching over the bulge that reached above the waist.

Come to mama.

Breath catching in her throat at the sight of all that delectable manhood on display, she decided she’d never had better inspiration for skimming her fingers over her panties. Simply put, he was the most fascinating man she’d ever met.

Goose bumps broke out over her skin as he followed the progress of her fingers with his gaze. The silk and lace of her lingerie grew damp with heat, the fabric molding intimately to her as she traced a circle around the hard knot of her clit.

Her hips twitched at the thought of him touching her, and with his big male body positioned between her legs, it was easy enough to imagine his hands on her, too. She tugged aside the lace to stroke the slick folds beneath. Little spasms fanned out from her womb, warning her it wouldn’t be long until the bigger contractions came, the ones that would wring her body from the inside out.

All because he was here. Watching. Devouring her with his gaze.

Her fingers tracked faster over her flesh grown swollen with want, her fantasies turning more graphic as she imagined him bending over her, taking her in his mouth. Lapping at her most sensitive places.

And then it was no dream.

With a growl of pure animal hunger, he leaned over her, tugging her panties down and off with one hand while he guided her fingers to his mouth with the other. One by one he sucked each digit in turn, tasting her with a thoroughness that left her whole body humming for that most intimate of kisses.

Hot breath fanned over her, stoking the fiery tension inside her. Tighter. Higher.

When he swirled his tongue over her sex she flew apart on contact, her screams thankfully muffled behind Wes’s accommodating hand. Lush spasms rolled over and over her, rocking her insides with raw sexual heat until she shuddered from the force of them.

Only then did he pull her up off the couch and into his lap to straddle him, lowering her down onto his shaft. He’d managed to put a condom on, but his pants were still at half-mast, the zipper threatening her most sensitive places until she shoved the trousers down with a trembling hand.

And then she thought no more, surrendering herself completely to the fierce rhythm he set. Her fingers gripped his shoulders as she anchored herself against the next round of waves already dragging her under. Deeper.

Gasping in one last breath, she let her release over take her as another climax swept through her damp body. Wes didn’t bother quieting her cries this time, his own echoing moments behind hers. Their heartbeats hammered so close together the rhythms became indistinguishable, their timing as in synch now as it had been while they made love.

Or had sex.

Or whatever it was they’d just done.

Tempest had no idea. She could barely think. Couldn’t
move. Couldn’t believe she’d just touched her self for the sensual delight of a man she’d known for all of—how long had it been?—five days.

But, oh God, had it been good.

Body brimming with happy endorphins, she tried not to worry about what it meant that she’d just shared the best sex of her life with a man who’d made it very clear he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. If only she could look at sex like a man, taking her pleasure where she could and to hell with the consequences.

But as Wes guided them down to recline on the couch, his strong arms cradling her close to his heart, Tempest knew she’d crossed some kind of personal line with him tonight. She’d given him too much of herself, shared a little piece of her soul when she’d only meant to follow an intense attraction until it flared out of its own accord.

Too bad she hadn’t fully comprehended what it meant to play with fire.

As she drifted off to sleep beside him, wrapped in the musky male scent of him, she told herself she’d figure out some solution in the morning. There had to be a way to reclaim her independence before she fell head over heels for a man who pushed her boundaries as no one else had ever done.

Somehow, she needed to put some space between them again before her old insecurities chased Wes away for good. Until she was strong enough to be a real partner for Wes, she’d keep her distance to make sure neither of them got burned beyond repair.

“O
UCH!”

Wes suppressed the string of curses that swelled in his throat the next morning as he nicked his jaw with the plastic straight razor he’d unearthed from a new bag in Tempest’s medicine cabinet. Why was it that a microscopic cut from shaving stung ten times more than a gushing flesh wound?

One of those mysteries of life. Kind of as pointless as trying to figure out why walking away from Tempest would hurt exponentially more than the hits to his ego from women who’d taken him deep in the past.

Setting aside the instrument of terror that had left three fresh cuts on his mug, Wes rinsed his face and dried off. Steam from his shower still hung thick in the black-and-white, art deco bathroom as he swiped the towel across the wrought-iron mirror in an effort to clean up after himself.

The shower and shave had done little to clear his head. Sleeping with Tempest again only made him want more, inciting primitive urges to hold her by his side that same way night after night. Maybe part of him had hoped the heat between them would cool after they’d been together a few times, but that was far from the case. If anything, he only wanted her now more than ever.

Flinging a towel over his shoulder, he slid into his clothes, wondering if she’d be awake yet. He’d forced
himself to get up and shower instead of succumbing to the far more tempting pleasure of watching her sleep—her red, manicured fingers curled tightly around the sheet and tucked beneath her delicate jaw.

He was getting too close, too involved, the same way his old partner Steve had shortly before his death. Steve had fallen for one of the women involved in a crime ring he’d infiltrated. Wes had followed protocol and refrained from actively contacting his partner when he went silent three weeks into the job, but Steve had checked in with Wes on his own terms during the undercover stint, and his last message detailed his concern for getting his lady friend out safely. Wes still regretted respecting Steve’s cover those last few weeks since the woman had ultimately exposed him.

Possibly turned him to crime, if the media coverage was to be believed.

Hanging the towel over the shower door, Wes re minded himself Tempest was nothing like that woman. For that matter, she wasn’t anything like any woman he’d ever been with before, his type tending to stray more to fallen angels than uptown girls. What freaked him out was the loss of control when he started to care about somebody, the emotional sucker punch that re minded him it didn’t matter how many arrests a guy made or street fights he’d won—when it came to women, men pretty much had no defense.

Except for the one-month rule, of course. Although it wasn’t exactly ingenious, at least the time limit made sure he wouldn’t be vulnerable to the relationship equivalent of a kick in the gonads.

Until now.

Apparently Tempest was like a fast-acting chemical
agent to his system. A few rounds with her, and he was toast.

Frustrated and out of sorts, he yanked the bathroom door open, startling Eloise to jump up from her mat in the corner with a whine. Tempest lifted a curious brow from her spot in the kitchen where she swirled a tea bag around in a steaming ceramic mug, a morning rain shower beating hard at a window behind her.

“Ghost on your tail?” She shuffled toward a round table tucked in a corner of the studio near the oven range, a pair of ratty pink slippers scuffing along the dark hardwood floor. An untied terrycloth bathrobe flapped open over a T-shirt and a pair of blue plaid boxer shorts.

He refrained from mentioning the spook of morning-after doubts currently haunting her bathroom.

“Just in a hurry to see what New York’s reigning society queen looks like in the morning.” He wasn’t ready to confront the questions between them. Not when he needed to step up his investigation today. Better to keep things light.

Dropping into a seat, she clutched her mug of tea with both hands and smiled. “I’m presiding over an elegant table with perfect aplomb.” She crossed her legs and kicked forward a slippered foot with a flourish. “And of course, I’m always a fashion plate. It just goes with the territory.”

That’s how she does it.

As Wes watched her bend over her tea and sip it with as much ritual and reverence as if it had been a life-saving elixir, he realized she was very good at making him feel comfortable with her wealth and privilege because she downplayed it at every turn. From her self-deprecating comments to her pared-down lifestyle, she gave off a common-person vibe that put him at ease.

But would she always be that way? Or would she tire of her Chelsea apartment and the struggling-artist scene once she’d gotten her fill of sculpting?

Not many people would be able to walk away from a world of luxury for long. Especially if they’d grown up accustomed to life’s little extras the way she had.

Maybe he’d figure her out more now that he was staying with her for a few days. Get a better read on a woman who looked all wrong for him on paper, but in reality seemed very right.

“The slippers definitely make a statement.” He wandered over to the stovetop and filled the empty mug she’d left waiting on the counter. Even in such a small thing, Tempest remained low pressure with her self-serve attitude.

Dropping the kettle back on a burner, he sifted through her basket of five thousand flavored teas looking for a bag that said plain old “Lipton.”

“I don’t think we should have sex anymore.” Her pronouncement came just as he’d decided he’d try something called cinnamon zinger.

Damned if she hadn’t zinged him first.

“Did I miss something here?” His tea bag floated on top of the water since he should have put it in the mug first. Assorted little details filled his cop brain, all the while refusing to process what she’d just said.

“I mean, I hope you’ll still consider staying here until you catch the psycho-creep lurking around my apartment, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep up the intimacy.”

She still clung to her teacup, only now Wes realized it wasn’t just her magic elixir, it was a power potion that gave her the nerve to lob verbal bombs at him the morning after they’d shared something pretty damn profound.

“And you came to this conclusion while we were rolling off your couch for the third time last night? Or did you only just make up your mind this morning?” He sucked down his tea in one large gulp, the red-hot liquid frying the inside of his mouth. How in the hell could she be so casual?

“I’m sorry.” Bowing her head for a moment, she seemed to study the wood grain in her floor before meeting his eyes again. “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt, I just wanted to get the words out before I lost my nerve.”

“At least you have the courtesy to admit it takes a hell of a lot of nerve to drop that on a guy at eight in the morning.” His brain seemed as scalded as his throat since he couldn’t figure out what else to say. What
could
he say to that? “Care to tell me why you’re changing your mind? Although, let’s be very clear that this doesn’t change a damn thing about me staying here. You’re not getting rid of me until we catch whoever is stirring up trouble for you.”

Nodding, she at least had the good grace to look relieved. Finally, she huffed out a sigh and looked at him dead-on.

“I’m a romantic.” She said it with as much drama as if she confessed a cardinal sin.

“Considering my line of work, I’m usually pretty good at connecting the dots, but you’re going to have to help me out on this one because I’m not following.” He strangled the water out of his tea bag before flinging it in the trash.

And he thought he’d been confused about Tempest while he shaved this morning? He hadn’t known the half of it.

Now there weren’t just morning-after spooks on his
tail. There was a whole legion of niggling regret demons and one very pissed-off ghost of what might have been.

S
HE MIGHT HAVE PLANNED
this better.

In the past eight months, she’d learned how to run a board meeting, mastered a travel schedule to oversee her offices abroad and played mediator to countless interdepartmental spats. Surely she could have devised a way to broach this subject with Wes in a way that didn’t put him so far on the defensive he was seething at the other end of her kitchen, the steam rising off him faster than their freshly boiled tea.

Too bad she’d been afraid to go to sleep last night, terrified she’d wake up so out of her mind in love with the man in her bed that she would never be free of him. She hadn’t even learned how to master her own insecurities. She was jealous that he met with strange women to crack a possible prostitution ring, for crying out loud.

Any guy noble enough to put his neck on the line as a cop didn’t deserve that kind of anxiety from his partner. Girlfriend. Whatever she was supposed to be to this man who freely admitted he’d never been able to make a relationship work before.

If only he could give her some time to forge her own path first. To find her own strengths and get a handle on her own dreams. Maybe then she’d be able to commit herself to being the kind of woman Wes deserved. She just needed some more room to breathe. More space to think things through before they plowed ahead at break-neck speed.

“I thought I could brazen out an affair with you, Wes, but I can’t. At least, not right now. I’m an old-school, hearts-and-flowers type of girl no matter how tough I try to be in the business world. And I just can’t find it in
myself to cut off my feelings from sex and simply enjoy what we have.” At least, that was part of it.

They didn’t need to delve into her lack of confidence now, did they? It was tough enough to deny herself the man she cared about without picking apart her psyche, too.

“Who the hell expects you to cut off your feelings from sex?” He gulped down another slurp of tea that had to singe all the way down. “I sure as hell have feelings about you, and I damn well expect you to have feelings about me after the conference room table, and the Park Avenue encounter, the alleyway…and that’s not saying anything about last night.”

“You have feelings for me?” Her feminine radar blinked wildly at the thought of this man harboring a hint of deeper emotions for her. All this time, she’d thought she was the only one whose heart was getting involved in their affair. “What kind?”

His brow furrowed as if she’d just asked him to solve quadratic equations. “Hell, I don’t know. But you can bet I feel something when I’m with you.”

Disappointment fizzled through her, renewing her decision to untangle herself from him before she had more to lose than great sex.

“Well if you ever figure it out, you be sure to let me know. I think we could both use a little time and space to find our footing with whatever is happening between us.” She stared at the man she’d clung to half the night, feeding a frenzy of need inside her she hadn’t even known existed. It wouldn’t be easy to walk away from that, even knowing it was the right thing to do. “More tea?”

Dark clouds rolled through those gray eyes of his, warning her of the storm coming. She braced herself for a tirade in Wes’s plainspoken style, but instead of arguing,
he suddenly lifted his fingers to his lips and motioned for her to be quiet.

“What?” She peered around her studio, finally noticing Eloise standing on guard at the front door, her ears perking straight up as she stared at the knob expectantly.

Someone was outside her apartment.

Tension crackled as she watched Wes move stealthily across her floor, his steps soundless despite his long strides. For a moment, she hoped maybe it was the paperboy, and then she remembered she didn’t subscribe to a paper.

And anyone who wanted to see her should have buzzed in downstairs.

Maybe it could be a neighbor loitering around the hall, looking for a lost key? The superintendent changing a lightbulb? Her brain rushed to supply scenarios even as her gut instinct gave her a bad feeling. She swallowed back a wave of fear, knowing Wes could handle whatever came his way. Still, what if her would-be intruder had a gun? Or worse, what if more than one per son lurked outside her door?

She rose, unable to sit still while Wes confronted her problems by himself. She might not be a trained professional, but she had a vested interest in seeing her antagonizer brought low.

Her bravado held right until Wes’s gun flashed, the dull gleam of silver sending a chill through her. She paused a few feet behind Eloise while Wes positioned himself by the door and motioned for her to get back.

Too bad her ancient fuzzy slippers were rooted to the floor beneath her. She bent down near Eloise, ready to vault into action if anyone bothered her dog, guns be damned.

Wes reached for the door handle, utterly silent as he listened. Waited. Jerked the door open with a start.

His gun glinted in front of a woman’s face.

Kelly Kline’s face.

Her hands whipped over her head, raised in surrender, skin going pale on the other side of Wes’s gun.

“I’m just here to see Tempest.”

Scrambling to her feet, Tempest walked closer to the standoff where Wes drew her co-worker inside, never taking his gun off her.

“It’s okay, Wes. She works with me.”

He snorted. “All the more reason to suspect her.”

Kelly’s eyes widened. “You’re the guy from last night.” She looked from Wes to Tempest, her gaze lingering on her CEO. “Is he here against your will?”

“He’s a detective,” Tempest inserted, thinking to put her at ease, even though now she was starting to wonder if Kelly’s visit today had been a social one.

Could her ambitious VP be vindictive enough to go after Tempest if her path up the career ladder had been thwarted?

Wes pushed Kelly into a chair near the door while Eloise barked intermittently.

“I’ll be asking the questions here. Just be kind enough to keep your hands where I can see them, Ms. Kline, and we won’t have any problems.” Wes tucked his weapon in the back of his trousers and kept his focus on Kelly. “Care to explain how you got into the building without Tempest buzzing you in?”

“A man coming out held the door for me.” She crossed long legs in a pencil-slim skirt that rested just above her knees. “Since it was raining, I didn’t think twice about coming inside and looking up Tempest on the directory. Now would you please tell me what this is about?”