He stared at the demure lace bra and the swell of her breasts. “I feel like a buck in heat.”
She moistened her lips, her hair a tangled mess framing her face. “You did this to me the last time. Made me lose my mind.”
“Darlin’, this ain’t gonna be nothing like last time. Gonna be a lot better.” He unfastened his belt buckle as he kissed her again. His hand traced the column of her spine toward the waistband of her pants. He slid his hand under the rough fabric and cupped her soft bottom. He wanted to savor this moment because he considered this their first time. A new beginning, and he didn’t want to screw it up.
“Please tell me you’re not going to take your time,” she said, breathless.
A cheerless chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I’m doing my best, ma’am. God help me, I am.”
She shook her head, trembling fingers reaching for the buttons of his shirt. “I’d like you to move a little faster.”
As tempted as he was to toss her on the bed and drive into her, he forced himself to stand still as she slid her hands over his flat belly. He hissed in a breath but managed a calm tone. “No, I think we’re gonna take our time.”
She frowned, but before she could complain, he kissed her and backed her up to the edge of the bed. His kisses moved from her lips to her throat and to the hard peak of her right breast. He suckled as she moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair. Only after he’d had his fill did he shift his attention to her other breast.
She arched, her pelvis pushing against his. “I swear to God, Brody, I’ll go insane if you drag this out.”
“I promise it will be a good kind of insane.” He slid his hand back under the waistband of her yoga pants and cupped her. She was moist, readily encouraging his male pride. He teased, played and kissed, and when her knees buckled he caught her and chuckled.
He eased her to the mattress. When he stepped back to kick off his boots and undress, he missed the heat of her body. She stared at him, her gaze an odd mix of pleasure and fear. He didn’t like the fear and made up his mind to make it disappear. He lay beside her and stroked her flat belly.
His touch made her muscles jump, twitch and finally calm. Soon he had her pants and undergarments off and in the center of the bed. He moved on top of her, his erection hard. It took all his self-control not to enter her. And then he remembered . . . no condoms.
He shoved out a breath and rolled on his side beside her. Mother of God, to be so close and to fall short.
She looked at him with dazed doe eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“No condoms.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. No sense saying when he’d used the last or taking a chance in a roulette game they’d played and lost before.
A smile played on her lips as she stroked his thigh. “I’m on the pill.”
“Really?”
“No accidents this time.”
He rolled on his side and laid his hand on her belly. “You’re sure?”
Her gaze sharpened. “Very. And I’m . . . discriminate, so no worries about the other stuff.”
“Me either.”
She hesitated, and he knew she’d reached a moment that required trust.
“I can be an ass, but I am no liar.”
That made her laugh. She lay on top of him, and her bare breasts flattened against his chest. His hand instinctively cupped her bottom. “Stop talking.”
Brody chuckled and rolled her on her back, covering her body with his. Kissing her, he took his time stroking her body and taking time to know it.
He was trying to take his time, but when she opened her legs for him he needed no more prompting. He settled between her legs and pushed into her. She was so tight. Wet. And he thought he’d come in that instant. But he waited for her to stretch and accommodate him. She’d said she’d been discriminate, and her tight body more than confirmed it. When he knew her better, he might ask, but for now he simply cared about moving inside of her and savoring it all. He wanted this to be perfect for her.
She moaned and smoothed her hands over his back and cupped his buttocks. “Go much slower, and I am going to have a stroke.”
He didn’t chuckle this time but gave in to his own urgency. His strokes grew faster and faster as a fine sheen of sweat glistened between them. When she moaned his name and her body tensed under him he released the hold on his control and came.
Jo’s heart hammered in her chest as Brody lay on top of her, his head tucked in the crook by her neck. His breath was warm and labored. Her body was relaxed and her senses satiated. She didn’t dare think too much about what they’d done. She had taken no chances with her heart all because of him. And now here she was taking the biggest chance of all.
She drew circles in the center of his back, wondering if he’d be up for round two soon.
As if reading her thoughts he said, “Lady, I think you damn near killed me.” Chuckling he rolled onto his side beside her.
“Nice to know I’ve got the touch.”
He lay on his back and closed his eyes. “Have no doubt. You do.”
To tease she said, “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He opened an eye and looked at her. “Not so bad?”
Color rose in her cheeks. “Okay, very, very good.”
He shook his head. “Tough audience.”
When overtaken by passion, she’d not been embarrassed or thought too much at all. She simply reacted. But now as the fires cooled, reason took hold of the reins.
When she didn’t answer, he stroked his hand over her flat belly, his expression serious. “It was great for you, right?”
When he looked at her with such intensity, she had trouble stringing thoughts together. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he prompted.
“It was great.”
He nodded, satisfied. “That’s more like it.”
“Don’t get too sure of yourself, cowboy!”
He winked. “A wise man knows his talents.”
This easy humor warred with old visions that still rose up naturally. Last time she’d cuddled against his side, she’d thought she’d found a missing piece of her soul. This time, she accepted that what passed between them was casual, terrific fun, but casual. And she wasn’t going to hitch her heart to him.
She pushed up, aware her hair now covered her breasts. “I’m starving.” She wanted to get dressed and do something other than lie next to him naked and vulnerable. “I can make a bowl of pasta. Want a plate?”
As she sat up, he trailed his fingers lazily down her back. “Sounds good.”
He took a hold of her hand as she moved to slide away. “Jo, I want you to be careful.”
“Little late for that.” His calloused fingertips rubbed the underside of her fingers as she tugged them free. The scramble to find her clothes proved a little more awkward. Her shirt was on the floor but her pants were tangled in the coverlet. And her panties . . . who knew where they’d landed. She snagged her pants and rolled off the side of the bed away from Brody. After quickly tugging them on, she moved to the other side of the bed and snatched up her shirt. Not bothering with her bra, she slipped it on.
“I mean in general.” His expression had darkened as it did when he was on the job.
“Did you ever identify the second victim?”
“We did.”
Frowning, she sat on the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to scare you.” Annoyance flared, and when she moved to stand he took hold of her hand, keeping her close.
She tried to snatch her hand away but his grip tightened. “I’m not a kid, Brody. I can handle the bad news.”
Brody sat up. Light brown hair covered his chest and forearms. A C-shaped scar curved around his right knee and his right bicep sported a Marine tattoo. “It’s not about what you can handle.”
“What is it about?”
“It’s my investigation. I reveal only what I need to.” His lips flattened.
She knew h
e’d not compromise on this. She could make an issue or accept that with Brody the case came first. “Who was it?”
“I told you before. A young prostitute.”
“What was her name?”
The question surprised him. And she understood. When most people heard “prostitute” they didn’t ask any more questions. But Jo had worked with a lot of these girls.
“Hanna Metcalf.”
She cocked her head. “Blond. Slim. Liked purple?”
His gaze sharpened to a knifepoint. “Yeah. How?”
“She sometimes came to a group I run on Monday nights. I’d not seen her in a while but that’s not unusual. The girls come and go.”
“You knew Hanna and were connected to Christa’s search.”
“Yes.”
He muttered an oath. “I don’t like this one damn bit, Jo.” “He’s out there circling.”
“Yeah.”
He rose and dressed. “What can you tell me about Hanna? Her uncle didn’t know much.”
Jo shook her head as sadness for the lost girl crept through her. “She was a runaway. That uncle you spoke to was the reason. She didn’t come regularly, but when she did I noticed she took everything literally. She cataloged facts when she was nervous. I suspect a mild form of Asperger’s syndrome.”
“Did she ever talk about her clients?”
“None of the girls talked about work at the church. It was their chance to get away from all that. Their chance to be kids.”
“Those girls at the gym. Any of them know Hanna?”
“Sure.”