"And I'll pay if we ruined your ceiling downstairs."
She glanced back at him, her torso twisting gracefully. "It was so worth it."
"And you are so beautiful," he said softly, as he watched the light catch her curves.
With red cheeks, she turned away to the stack of towels on the counter and began throwing them on the floor around the tub's base.
Even though he was more than content to watch the show, he rose up from the water and got out. The mirror over the sink made him nervous, but he forced himself to look into it. Nothing but his reflection. No shadows. Nothing that moved other than his ribs from his breathing.
Relieved, he approached her from behind. Stepping against her warm, wet body, he bent down and kissed her shoulder.
"I'm not ... used to this." She patted the last towel of that stack, as if impatient with herself. "I'm just ... I don't know how to handle this."
"You handled me just fine." He ran his forefinger down her spine. "Better than anyone has."
She laughed in a little tense burst. "Somehow I doubt that."
"Don't. You're something else."
He put his hands on her neck and caressed her back all the way to her hips. Then his lips followed the trail he'd blazed, kissing and nipping down her torso ... and going even lower.
Getting on his knees, Veck ran his lips up her thighs, gradually moving closer to that juncture he'd been keeping in mind the whole time. At his gentle urging, she bent over the counter, exposing that slit of flesh that drove him insane -
With a sudden surge, he nuzzled into her, and then sucked her into his mouth.
Sweet ... and hot ... and slick against his tongue. And she loved it, too, her arms bowing out to keep her balance against the marble, her breath falling into a sharp panting rhythm.
Using his hands, he spread her feet further to give him more room to work, and then he swept his palms up the front of her legs to grip her and keep her tight to his face.
Fast flicking. Deep sucking. Penetration with his tongue.
He took his time, because there was so much to explore, and he kept her on the brink until he couldn't stand the suspense anymore. Snaking his hand up, he eased the pad of his thumb into the top of her sex at the same time he extended his tongue inside of her. Quick circles in the right place sent her flying, and he loved the way she clenched internally and kicked against him.
When she was finished, he eased back. Through her trembling legs, he got one f**k of a view of her br**sts, the two of them hanging down, the tips brushing against the marble as they swung back and forth from her breathing.
Veck squeezed his eyes shut and needed to take a minute.
The next time he came, it was going to be where his tongue had just been.
Orgasm. Of. Her. Life.
As Reilly struggled to remain upright, her body was still cruising at full speed ahead - except there was nowhere to go, however, so all the muscles of her thighs did was twitch in place. And that wasn't the half of it. Her mind was blown, to the pot where she wasn't exactly sure where she was.
Turning her head, she got a faceful of toothpaste and brushes.
Bathroom. Well, she guessed there were two locales in her house she would never look at in the same way - wait. Three. The downstairs loo as well as the kitchen.
As the world tilted and spun, she realized that Veck had picked her up. Good plan. She didn't think she could walk - and what a way to air-dry.
In her bedroom, he laid her out on her duvet and covered her with half of it. "I'll be right back."
She wasn't alone long, however, because he moved fast, going downstairs, rifling around in what sounded like the kitchen, coming back quickly. He canned the overhead light as he reentered, and at first she thought it was for her modesty - not that she needed it, considering what he'd done to her at that counter - but then she saw him put something on the bedside table.
His gun.
No, there were two. He'd brought hers as well. From where they'd disarmed at the table before dinner.
How romantic.
The stark reminder of the night before chilled her, but he took care of that, covering her with his hot, hard body.
"Don't think about it," he whispered. "Not now. There'll be plenty of time when we're through."
She touched his face and wished they were on vacation somewhere far, far away from the kind of work they did and the reason they had been brought together.
"You're right," she said. "And I don't want to wait a moment longer."
He nodded, and produced that last foil square he'd kept in his wallet. When he was finished taking care of things, he mounted her again, and as she spread her legs further, she felt the shift in him, in herself: everything slowed down.
As he entered her on a gentle glide, she welcomed him not just with her sex, but her soul, kissing him deeply.
Without words, without hesitations, without any reservations, they moved together, building momentum, gathering intensity. When the end came, it was at the same time, and they held on to each other, she with her nails digging into his back, he with his arms under her and squeezing.
It was the most perfect union. And afterward, even though he had to pull out and did, they lay together in the dark as close as they could get, their bodies forming a critical mass of warmth in the center of the bed.
"Will you let me stay the night?" he asked.
"Yes. Please, yes."
"I'll be right back. You get under the covers."
Good idea. Because as soon as he was up off of her, the cold rushed in and goose-pimpled her all over.
A few minutes later he came back from the bath and joined her. "Did I take your side?"
"Ah ... no. I'm over here at night."
"Good."
She rolled over and they faced each other, heads on her pillows, bodies warming up under the weight of the blankets.
He brushed his fingertip down her cheek ... across her jaw ... to her lips. "Thank you ..." he whispered. width="1em">God, she couldn't find her breath at this moment. "For what."
There was a pause. "The pizza. It was just the way I like it."
Reilly laughed. "Smart-ass."
"Come here. I need to hold on to you."
She felt the same way. And when there was no distance between them, it was like coming home.
With her head on his chest over his thumping heart, and his arms around her, and her leg thrown over his, she wasn't just comfortable; she was safe.
While he idly smoothed her hair, she closed her eyes. "This is just perfect."
She could hear the smile in his voice: "Which is how I want it to be for you. I want to make everything perfect for you."
As Reilly drifted off to sleep, her last thought was ... she couldn't wait to do it all over again. And not just the sex. This lovely, invaluable quiet was even better than the making love part.
Although that hadn't been half-bad, either.
Chapter 34
The following morning, as Veck walked into HQ, his number one priority was not grinning like a motherfucker.
Tough to pull off.
He was an hour late, because he and Reilly had engaged in acts that, had he had any more condoms, would have been termed "foreplay." As it stood, given that they'd been completely surrounded by no amount of latex, what went down was better than the best sex he'd had with anyone else - by about five thousand miles.
And he'd already hit a Walgreens and stocked up on the way into work.
As he strode through the lobby, he nodded to people, keeping it professional even though his inner sixteen-year-old had its swagger on like he'd won the Super Bowl, the World Series, and the Stanley Cup all in one night.
When he got to the top of the stairs, he prayed like hell that Britnae didn't morning-coffee him. That girl had nothing on his Reilly, and it was time to break her of the habit of coming on to him. He didn't need to worry, though. One of the night guys, who worked intake, was at her desk. Veck didn't know the officer all that well, but he was looking different somehow. Kind of like he'd gotten his Hugh Jackman on, in spite of the fact that on the surface he had more in common with Homer Simpson. And Britnae? Eating it up.
Which proved that what was inside was what counted - and who knew a girl like that would figure it out?
Down in Homicide, he sat at his desk and fired up his computer. And then struck by a romantic notion that was as unfamiliar as it was undeniable, he went into his e-mail, got Reilly out of his contacts, and got ready to send her something.
Lot of space to fill. Looooot of space.