Family Jewels Page 11

  She forced down a chunk of half-chewed chicken and struggled for a few seconds not to choke. Thankfully he didn’t notice and focused on his meal. A large swallow of wine helped clear her throat.

  “You’ve been shot at?”

  “Many times. But so far they’ve all missed me.”

  Her glance strayed to the deadly looking weapons on the nightstand again. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

  Trevor set his fork and knife down. “Does that bother you,” he jerked his head toward the guns, “having them out in the open?”

  Cynthia pursed her lips. “A little. I’m not used to seeing one and the potential of what it could do in the wrong hands scares me.”

  “Have you ever fired a gun? Handled one?”

  She shook her head, dragging her eyes away from the weapons and focused on finding another tasty garlic crouton in her mountain of greens.

  “If we have some time I’ll show you how it works. The safety is on both of them so they won’t go off unexpectedly. But if you ever have to pick one up you’d better know how to use it.” He stood and walked over to where they lay, then opened the nightstand drawer, carefully placed both guns inside and shut it firmly. “Better?”

  She smiled. “Out of sight, out of mind. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. How’s your dinner?”

  “Great. But too much.” She’d eaten about as much lettuce and chicken as she could. She set her plate on the table and leaned back in the chair to finish her wine. “Trevor, there’s something I don’t understand.”

  “What would that be?”

  She twirled her glass for a moment, admiring the deep golden hue against the soft light of the bedroom. “I know the diamond you’re searching for isn’t worth more than one hundred grand. And you said you couldn’t tell me exactly why you need it.”

  He nodded. “Sensitive information.”

  Cynthia brushed off her flash of irritation. “I know it’s not the diamond itself. The stone represents something, right? Can’t you even give me a hint?”

  His glance was quick and hard. “No.”

  “Is it a key to something?”

  He reacted by stiffening his posture for a moment. Then he offered her more wine but she declined. He poured more in his own glass, clearly stalling his answer to her question. “What did you see on the diamond, Cynthia?”

  Her meal dropped into the bottom of her stomach like a bucket of rocks. She started to sip wine and then set her glass down on the table next to her plate, determined to keep her cool and not let the alcohol affect her brain.

  Why didn’t he trust her?

  She had to stay calm until she understood everything more clearly. For all she knew, he could be pretending to care for her, though she doubted he could fake his physical attraction that well.

  Still, what did that mean anyway? According to a study published by Newsweek, men thought about sex at least once every ten minutes and had erections about as frequently. A stiff cock didn’t mean he wanted her. He wanted sex. And she just happened to be nearby. Being so coldly clinical made her grumpy.

  “I don’t know anything, Trevor. That’s why I keep asking. These people want me dead. I have a right to know why.”

  Trevor leaned forward and removed the ice bag from her knee. The skin beneath had turned pink from the applied cold. He touched around the bump gently. “How’s your knee feel now?”

  “Much better. Thanks. Are you going to answer my question? Or, is there something else on your mind?”

  “Hmm,” he murmured. “I can promise you one thing, I’ll never lie to you. If I have something to say, I say it. And if I see something I want, I reach for it.” His fingers moved to the inside of her knee, circling over sensitive skin, tempting her to open her legs and give him access. He tugged on the napkin that still covered her lap, drawing it across her legs in a slow, sensuous sweep that exposed her to him.

  Cynthia shivered, not from cold but from the heat. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

  “Admittedly, yes,” Trevor said. “Is it working?”

  She bit her lip when he palmed her inner thigh. “Admittedly, yes.”

  This relationship between them–-if it could even be called that–-was going to be brief and temporary. She didn’t expect or believe anything more than lust existed between them. This was just a one-night stand with the sexiest man she’d ever met.

  “Another promise, Cyn, I won’t let anyone harm you. I’ll keep you safe for as long as it takes to clear this matter up.”

  “How long will that take?”

  His other hand slid between her legs, warm and insistent. Wonderful. Her heart jumped inside her chest. She had to concentrate on breathing. Creamy moisture soaked through the crotch of her panties.

  “I don’t know for certain,” he answered. “But each hour that passes brings new information from many sources. I’m not working alone.”

  “Oh. That’s…good to know.” Her breath caught when his hands inched up her inner thighs, toward the aching, wet center between them. “Really good.”

  He moved out of his chair, pushed the table and ottoman away and kneeled in front of her. A whimper echoed from her throat in response to the hunger she read in his eyes. His jeans bulged in front, large and obvious.

  “Tell me something, Cyn. Tell me you want this. If you say no I’ll leave you be. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  Her fingernails dug into the fabric of the chair while she strained to keep her hands off him. She feared she’d claw him with her desire to bring him closer. Slowly, she wet her lips, watching his eyes follow the path of her tongue. “Oh yes. I want this, Trevor.”

  His hands caressed her thighs, from outside to inside and back again, driving her insane with need. She nodded, too tongue-tied to answer.

  “Please, don’t stop,” she said breathlessly.”

  Trevor tucked his fingertips inside the elastic band of her panties, hooked the fabric and then slid it down. She lifted her hips to help him remove them. Doing that exposed her pouting pussy to his gaze.

  He made a deep sound that could have been pain or pleasure. “Beautiful Cyn, so beautiful.” He reached for the hem of her t-shirt and slid it up. She raised her arms and let him pull it off. His smile could have lit up Manhattan. Her nipples had peaked into such hard nubs that she couldn’t help squirming in her chair in anticipation of his hot mouth on them. She leaned forward and offered her aching breasts for his caresses.

  Trevor captured her face between his hands first. “How is it possible a woman as gorgeous as you are isn’t married already? The men in this city are fools.”

  Cynthia stared at him with foggy eyesight. “Doesn’t matter now. Kiss me, Trevor. Kiss me everywhere.”

  “Tell me what you like?”

  “Anything. I’ll do almost anything. But if you wait much longer I’m going to get pissed off.”

  “Adventurous, demanding little minx. You may have met your match tonight, darling.”

  He took her mouth in a hard kiss, forcing her lips to part beneath his, thrusting his tongue deep inside. This was no plea, no slow seduction. He demanded this kiss, that she yield herself to him.

  She arched into his body, wrapping her arms around his lean waist. He tasted of wine and spices and pure male sexuality. Their tongues danced together, slowly, faster, pulling out and plunging back inside in the timeless dance that humans everywhere had shared since Adam and Eve.

  Trevor made her head swim and her bones melt like butter. Her juices flowed, making her slick and ready. Her hands found their way under his soft sweater and met the hard muscles beneath. She found smooth hot skin and let her eager fingers explore his chiseled torso. Her exploration dragged the sweater up his chest, tracing and defining each rippling bulge with her fingertips, twirling around his flat nipples and up until she reached his shoulders.

  Trevor pulled away from her just long enough to whip his sweater off. He tossed it over his head without a care for where it
landed on the floor. The look he gave her was hard and restless. The sight of his muscular chest and abdomen made her mouth water. She wanted to lick every inch of him and suck on his flat nipples until they pearled into tiny beads against her tongue. His skin was so tight, with a trail of dark hair that began at his breastbone, trailed down to his navel and disappeared into the top of his jeans. She reached for his zipper.

  “Lean back,” he ordered, pushing her with his hands on her shoulders. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do since this morning. I’m not waiting any longer.”

  She closed her eyes and bit her lip with expectation. When he cupped her breasts she let go of the moan she’d been holding back. His hands were warm, gentle. He plumped and squeezed her flesh softly, then dipped his head down and ran the tip of his tongue around her left nipple.

  Cynthia felt herself come unglued. He slipped that sensitive bud between his lips and sucked, softly at first, then harder when she responded with more gasps and moans. When he let that nipple go suddenly, she whimpered her objection. But his lips soon closed over her right nipple and he plucked the slippery-wet left one with his thumb and finger. Bolts of electric pleasure zapped through her body and centered inside the aching spot between her legs.

  Trevor used his mouth with great skill. He sucked gently but with enough pressure to make her arch for more. She wanted to cry when he let go of her nipples to place hot-mouthed, urgent kisses across her ribs.

  He palmed her thighs, forcing her legs apart and then ran his hands up and down from knees to hips. His gaze fixed on her naked sex. He smiled a lazy smile that made her body throb with anticipation. Slowly, his hands inched closer to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. When his fingertips brushed lightly over her smooth pussy lips, she shivered with delight.

  “You surprise me, Cyn.”

  “Why?”

  “I hadn’t expected this.” Gently he ran his thumb over her parted, slick crease. “You shave. What a delicious, sweet treat for me. And to think you hid this treasure under that modest skirt and boxy sweater.”

  She grinned. “I wasn’t dressing to impress this morning. Are you just going to tease me?”

  “Darling, I intend to enjoy every last drop of you.” He slid his fingers between her wet folds and stroked her from top to bottom, flicking his thumb over her throbbing clit, making her shudder. “Mmm, juicy. Dessert has never been this good before. Now scoot your lovely bottom to the edge and prepare to be devoured. I want to feel you come all over my tongue.”

  “Oooh. God,” Cynthia moaned. With his help she scooted and held her breath, anticipating the hot, first touch of his mouth on her flesh. She reached for his hair when he lowered his head and grabbed two handfuls of the silky darkness. He kissed her belly, dragging a wet trail from her quivering navel down to her hot center. Tenderly, he dipped his tongue inside. Pleasure darted up from her core and spread like wildfire through her entire body.

  “Tre-Trevor,” she panted. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Hmm?” he mouthed against her flesh, the sound tingled inside her body.

  “I, um, I don’t need much to come. Don’t take too long.” She bucked her hips, forcing his tongue on a deeper exploration inside her tender vaginal opening.

  “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he murmured.

  Slowly, first one and then two fingers penetrated her. Her inner muscles spasmed, squeezing his fingers, holding them deep inside her body. His tongue and lips settled over her clit while he pumped his fingers in and out, sending rhythmic, hot waves of incredible pleasure crashing down on her.

  “Oh, so good.” Cynthia pulled her knees up, opening herself to his probing mouth and fingers even more. He responded by thrusting into her firmly, deepening the penetration into her vagina. He sucked on her clit, deliciously tormenting the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Her body exploded with the pleasure he brought forth, arching up with rhythmic humps. She let her head fall back and cried out her release.

  He slid his fingers out gently, still stroking her with his tongue, lapping up the flowing juices like a dripping fruit.

  Finally, when she settled down and her breathing returned to normal, she felt him gather her up in his arms and lift her from the chair in one swoop. Her eyes flew open.

  His gaze was black as midnight, the lids heavy and sensuous. Dark hair fell over his forehead from the havoc her fingers had played in it. He looked devilishly handsome and still hungrier than a starving man.

  “Bedtime,” he whispered.

  Cynthia moaned with anticipation, weak as a kitten in his arms.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Trevor carried Cynthia to the bed and laid her on top of the comforter. Her knee still looked swollen under the golden light of the bedside lamp. The bruise was likely to take several days to fade from her tender pale skin. He hated the fact that he’d failed to protect her from injury.

  That won’t happen again.

  Sexual gratification had glazed her silver eyes into pure dark pewter. He’d barely heard her murmured words in the heat of passion, didn’t really believe she’d come so quickly under his deeply probing fingers and tongue. But she had, quivering and spilling her sweet tangy juice into his mouth.

  Ah hell! She even tasted like crushed strawberries and cream.

  Cynthia stretched out on the bed with a luxurious sigh. She pulled her long hair up and tucked the pillow higher against the headboard. Doing so lifted her succulent breasts. Both nipples were still peaked into hard, dark pink berries. He licked his lips at the thought of sucking them back into his mouth.

  Her eyes raked him from head to toe. She patted the empty space at her side. “Don’t stand there all night, Agent. Lose the pants and come to bed.”

  He didn’t know what he wanted to do to her first, spread her wide like a butterfly and plunge into her from above, turn her over and take her from behind or maybe he should let her straddle his hips and ride him to their mutual bliss? All sorts of possibilities for a long night of pleasures tumbled into his mind.

  “Technically,” he reached for the button above his zipper and worked it free, “what we’re about to do could get me fired.”

  Cynthia’s smoky gaze lingered on his hands and the zipper he inched down with agonizing slowness. His cock strained and jumped against the fabric of his skin-hugging Lycra briefs.

  “Why?” Her silky pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. “I’m a consenting adult. I certainly don’t have a problem with it.”

  “Because you’re my witness.” He slid his jeans down and stepped out of them. Reaching for his overnight bag, she watched him remove a small foil packet. “I’m supposed to protect and keep you safe.”

  “I feel perfectly safe, Agent.” Cynthia eyed the condom with a tremulous smile and rolled onto her side. Then she braced her head on one hand and dragged her fingertips over the smooth curve of her hip. “Nice underwear. Take them off.”

  Her eager words thrilled him. His cock stabbed upward, burning to take all she offered and more. Making love to a woman who knew what she wanted from him was infinitely sexy and arousing. Would she object to the many different ways he wanted to take her? Somehow, he doubted it.

  Giving her a playful grin, Trevor ignored her plea and turned back to the small table that held the remains of their dinner. He poured the last splash of the Chardonnay into his glass and then carried it over to the bed. He held it out to her.

  “Hold this.”

  She took the wineglass from him without question. He peeled down his briefs and unleashed his erection. It bobbed against his abdomen, fully engorged and aching for her hot, silky wet depths. A breath of air gusted past her lips. He couldn’t remember ever having such a raging hard-on for his ex-fiancée, or the nameless, faceless, few-and-far-between liaisons he’d had since then. Miriam had been rather chaste and shy in her lovemaking. She’d only cared for the missionary position, almost never came with him inside her and never encouraged him to have
his way with her. Cynthia’s bold, eager desire inspired him to test the harder edge he’d always felt inside himself.

  Facing her, he settled his weight on the bed with his knees. She rolled from her side onto her back again, still balancing his wineglass by the stem. Her soft, full breasts swayed against the rapid, shallow breaths she took. A subtle blush stained the pale, soft skin across her chest and slender throat.

  “Are you going to let me taste that luscious cock? Or just sit there staring at me all night long?”

  “Darling, I could stare at you forever. You’re beautiful.”

  Her eyes flickered for a second, the deep gray depths darkening when her pupils dilated. “Thanks. What do you want me to do with this?”

  Trevor took the glass from her. He swirled the wine into a golden whirlpool. “I’m going to drink from your body. Every dip, hole and valley will be filled and I’m going to lick and suck it from you. Ready?”

  Her breath hitched. She nodded. He touched one finger into the wine and anointed her bottom lip with it. Her tongue peeked out to follow the path of his finger. He shook his head.

  “Leave it there,” he warned her softly. “And keep your hands at your sides.”

  Her breath rushed past her parted lips. She clenched and unclenched her fingers in the bed coverings, like a sleek cat kneading her claws in pleasure.

  He dipped three fingers into the glass and carefully brought the drops to the delicate hollow of her throat. She held her breath for a second and closed her eyes. He dipped his fingers back into the wine and dribbled the golden liquid over her slender collarbones and into the valley between her breasts. The tiny puddles on her skin vibrated with each beat of her heart. Using his pinky finger, he placed a single drop of wine on the rosy tip of each nipple. Cynthia’s eyes flew open. She almost arched off the bed.

  “Careful, darling. Don’t spill. Hold very, very still for me.”

  She bit her bottom lip and visibly struggled to remain quiet. Goose bumps dotted her skin. He dribbled wine into her navel. It overflowed and dripped down her side, leaving a glistening trail across her skin for his tongue to savor.