Beneath the Badge (First Responders 4)

“You did put in a request,” she reminded him softly.

Yes, he had. And tonight he’d figured he’d taken her by surprise. He’d known from the start that Lindsay wasn’t a quick or easy lay. He would have been disappointed in her if she had been, he realized. She definitely wasn’t his usual forget-by-fucking kind of affair. She was too special for that.

But he was the one standing here surprised and feeling increasingly on the back foot.

“Are you going to stare all night?” she asked softly, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I thought I was in a hurry,” he admitted. “And now I don’t want it to be over too soon.”

“You could start by touching me, Matt.” She took two steps closer so that all he had to do was reach out to feel her warm, soft skin or the smooth satin and lace.

He cupped his hand over her full breast. “Honestly, Lindsay, I thought I’d have to be more persuasive.”

She leaned into his palm. “Why? Because I don’t strike you as a particularly sexual woman?”

“I can’t say that, not after the other night.” He rubbed his thumb over her hard nipple. “It’s that you hold yourself away from people. Never get too emotionally involved.”

“Mr. Pot, meet Mrs. Kettle.” She slid her hand over his shoulder, their bodies pressed together now, and touched her lips to the hollow of his neck. “We laid out the ground rules the first night, remember? I can relax my no-fling rule for once, I think. For you.”

“I’m honored.”

She lifted one careless shoulder. “A girl has to cut loose once in a while. I haven’t in a long time.”

“So that’s what this is? You cutting loose?”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “It can’t be more, and we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other, so that’s the alternative.”

He should be relieved, but instead something strange and hollow seemed to penetrate the hard shell he normally kept around his emotions. He wanted no strings too, so why did her easy acceptance bother him so much?

He tried to come up with an answer but it was damned hard with her warm, sweet-smelling skin pressed against him. He slid his fingers down her ribs, over her hip and inside the silky panties, the curve of her cheek fitting his palm as he drew her tight against him. Rather than answer, he kissed her again, the flames of arousal licking at him as she made a soft sound of pleasure that hummed against his lips.

Damn, he thought, as they melted towards the floor and stretched out on the antique rug. They weren’t even going to make it to the bedroom. They were going to make love right here in the middle of her living room.

Matt lost himself in a haze of sensory bliss. Every touch of skin on skin, the taste of her on his tongue, the sound of her screams as she came apart followed by his own rough cries of completion. They moved to the more comfortable bed and drank wine and ate truffles to keep their strength up and made love again. But this time, as he caught her fingers in his and braced them on the pillow, their gazes caught. Held. His heart stuttered as he slowed his pace, each stroke feeding something deeper, something wonderful and profoundly disturbing.

This time was different. He couldn’t look away, instead drowning in the blue of her eyes. God, they could see right into the heart of him, stirring more than just passion. Despite his best intentions she’d caught him off-guard. His heart was suddenly involved. And when his climax came it was different than it had ever been before. Harder, deeper. Like there was absolutely no way to tell where he ended and she began.

Their breathing slowed, the sweat cooled and Lindsay fell asleep in his arms. But sleep didn’t come to Matt as the light through the window waned to summer twilight and then darkness.

He couldn’t be falling for her. He’d promised himself that would never happen. But promises were broken all the time—especially the ones that he seemed to make. When it came down to it, he was really bad at keeping them, even to himself.

He knew that what he should do was slide out from beneath her sheets and get the hell out of here before he got in so deep he couldn’t get back out again.

And he would. In a few minutes. He just wanted to hold her a little longer, feel her warmth and strength. Nothing seemed to matter when he was with her…

Lindsay woke in the middle of the night. She couldn’t say what had interrupted her sleep. Her window was open and a slight breeze rippled the leaves on the trees, the odd hum of tires over pavement as a vehicle passed by in the darkness. All was peaceful, even Matt’s breathing in her ear as they spooned beneath the covers.

She hadn’t expected him to stay. Hadn’t expected to fall asleep in his arms either, but a long day at work followed by wine and the exquisite release from making love and she’d slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He stirred behind her, shifting so one foot glided along her calf. His hand slid up her stomach and fell on her breast, not fondling, just…acknowledging. It was intimate. It was romantic as hell. And while she didn’t want it to be, it was slightly arousing, especially with the quiet whisper of soft sheets against her skin. She didn’t normally sleep naked. It felt indulgent and sexy and slightly naughty.

His lips touched the back of her neck and she sighed. Lord, he had a tender side she never would have guessed.

She closed her eyes, but all she could see behind her lids was Matt’s face. The way he’d looked at her that last time. Something had changed—a switch had been flipped somehow and it had shifted from sheer fun and adventure into something more. There had been a few moments of elation at the very idea, and why not? It wasn’t every day that a man like Matt Parker looked at you like you hung the moon and stars. Like you were everything.

And that was the problem. After those initial dazed moments the truth pushed to the surface. She didn’t want to be everything to anyone. There was too much pressure involved with that, and it was setting yourself up for failure. No one could be responsible for someone else’s complete happiness.

She thought he’d gone back to sleep until he twitched, a small sound erupting from his throat. She held herself completely still. Was he dreaming? She held her breath, listening, until he jerked again, moaning. It wasn’t a good kind of moan. It sounded painful, unsettled. She closed her eyes and wished that whatever demon was chasing him would just leave and let him be.