Falling for Rachel
Page 15
“I’ll take you in a minute.”
“I know the way, Muldoon.”
“I’ll take you,” he said again, and something in his tone made it quite clear that he wasn’t talking about walking her to her door. He tugged the wineglass out of her hand and set it aside. “We were talking about passionate natures.” His fingers skimmed up through her hair, fisted in it. “And outlets.”
In an automatic defensive gesture, her hand slammed against his chest, but he continued to draw her closer. “I came here to help you, Muldoon,” she reminded him as his mouth hovered dangerously above hers. “Not to play games.”
“Just testing your theory, Counselor.” He nipped lightly at her lower lip, once, twice. When that teasing sample stirred the juices, he crushed his mouth to hers and devoured.
She could stop him. Of course she would stop him, Rachel told herself. She knew how to defend herself against unwanted advances. The trouble was, she hadn’t a clue as to how to defend herself against advances she didn’t want to want.
His mouth was so…avid. So impatient. So greedy. She wondered if he would swallow her whole. He used lips and tongue and teeth devastatingly. If there was an instant, some fraction of a heartbeat, when she could have resisted, it passed unnoticed, and she was swamped by the hot wave that was his need, or hers. Or what they made together. On one long, throaty moan, she went under for the third time, dragging him with her.
He’d been prepared for her to slap or scratch. And he would have accepted it, would have forced himself to be satisfied with that quick, tempting taste. He was a man with large appetites, but he had never been one to take what wasn’t offered willingly.
She didn’t offer. She exploded. In that blink of time before his mouth covered hers, he’d seen the fire come into her eyes, that dark, liquid fire that equaled passion. When the kiss had gone from teasing to fevered, she had answered, pulling him far deeper into that hot well of desires than he’d intended to go.
And that moan. It sprinted along his spine, that glorious feline sound that was both surrender and demand. Even as it died away, she was wrapping herself around him, pressing that incredibly lean and limber body against his in a way that had a chain of explosions rioting through his system.
She heard his breathy oath, felt the long cushions of the couch press into her back as he shifted her. For one wild moment, all she could think was Yes! This was what she wanted, this wild flurry of sensations, this crazed, mindless mating of flesh. As his mouth raced down to savage her throat, she arched against him, craving the possession.
Then he said her name. Groaned it. The shock of hearing it ripped her back to reality. She was grappling on a couch in a strange apartment with a man she barely knew.
“No.” His hands were moving over her, and they nearly dragged her back into the whirlwind. Desperate to pull away, she shoved and struggled. “Stop. I said no.”
He couldn’t get his breath. If someone had held a gun to his head, he wouldn’t have moved. But the no stopped him. He managed to lift his head, and the reckless light in his eyes had her fighting against a shudder. “Why?”
“Because this is insane.” God, she could still taste him on her lips, and the churning for more of him was making her crazy. “Get off me.”
He could have strangled her for making him want to beg. “Your call, lady.” Because his hands were unsteady, he balled them into fists. “I thought you said you didn’t play games.”
She was humiliated, furious, and frustrated beyond belief. As she saw it, the best disguise was full-blown anger. “I don’t. You’re the one who pushed yourself on me. The simple fact is, I’m not interested.”
“I guess that’s why you were kissing me so hard my teeth are loose.”
“You kissed me.” She jabbed a finger at him. “And you’re so damn big I couldn’t stop you.”
“A simple no did,” he reminded her, and lit a cigarette. “Let’s keep it honest, Counselor. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve been wanting to do that, and more, ever since I saw you sitting like a queen in that grubby station house. Now, maybe you didn’t feel the same way, but when I kissed you, you kissed me right back.”
Sometimes retreat was the best defense. Rachel snatched up her purse and jacket. “It’s done, so there’s nothing more to discuss.”
“Wrong.” He was up and blocking her path. “We can finish discussing it while I take you home.”
“I don’t want you to take me home. I’m not having you take me home.” Eyes blazing, she swung her jacket over her shoulders. “And if you insist on following me there, I’ll have you arrested for harassment.”
He merely grabbed her by the arm. “Try it.”
She did something she wished she’d done the first time she laid eyes on him. She punched him in the stomach. He let out a little whoosh of air, and his eyes narrowed.
“First one’s free. Now, we can walk to the subway, or I can carry you there.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she shouted. “Can’t you take no for an answer?”
His response was to shove her back against the door and kiss the breath out of her. “If I didn’t,” he said between his teeth, “we wouldn’t be walking out of here right now when you’ve got me so wound up I’m going to have to live in a cold shower for the next week.” He yanked open the door. “Now…are you going to walk, or are you going to ride over my shoulder?”
She stuck out her chin and sailed past him.
She’d walk, all right. But she’d be damned if she’d speak to him.
CHAPTER FOUR
At the end of a harried ten-hour day, Rachel walked out of the courthouse. She should have been feeling great—her last client was certainly happy with the non-guilty verdict she’d gotten for him. But this time the victory hadn’t managed to lift her spirits. The only solution she could see was to pick up a quart of ice cream on the way home and gorge herself into a sugar coma.
It usually worked, and since, as a law-abiding citizen, she couldn’t relieve her tension by striding into Lower the Boom and shooting Zackary Muldoon through his thick skull, it was the safest alternative.
She almost tripped over her own feet when she saw him rise from his perch at the bottom of the steps.
“I know the way, Muldoon.”
“I’ll take you,” he said again, and something in his tone made it quite clear that he wasn’t talking about walking her to her door. He tugged the wineglass out of her hand and set it aside. “We were talking about passionate natures.” His fingers skimmed up through her hair, fisted in it. “And outlets.”
In an automatic defensive gesture, her hand slammed against his chest, but he continued to draw her closer. “I came here to help you, Muldoon,” she reminded him as his mouth hovered dangerously above hers. “Not to play games.”
“Just testing your theory, Counselor.” He nipped lightly at her lower lip, once, twice. When that teasing sample stirred the juices, he crushed his mouth to hers and devoured.
She could stop him. Of course she would stop him, Rachel told herself. She knew how to defend herself against unwanted advances. The trouble was, she hadn’t a clue as to how to defend herself against advances she didn’t want to want.
His mouth was so…avid. So impatient. So greedy. She wondered if he would swallow her whole. He used lips and tongue and teeth devastatingly. If there was an instant, some fraction of a heartbeat, when she could have resisted, it passed unnoticed, and she was swamped by the hot wave that was his need, or hers. Or what they made together. On one long, throaty moan, she went under for the third time, dragging him with her.
He’d been prepared for her to slap or scratch. And he would have accepted it, would have forced himself to be satisfied with that quick, tempting taste. He was a man with large appetites, but he had never been one to take what wasn’t offered willingly.
She didn’t offer. She exploded. In that blink of time before his mouth covered hers, he’d seen the fire come into her eyes, that dark, liquid fire that equaled passion. When the kiss had gone from teasing to fevered, she had answered, pulling him far deeper into that hot well of desires than he’d intended to go.
And that moan. It sprinted along his spine, that glorious feline sound that was both surrender and demand. Even as it died away, she was wrapping herself around him, pressing that incredibly lean and limber body against his in a way that had a chain of explosions rioting through his system.
She heard his breathy oath, felt the long cushions of the couch press into her back as he shifted her. For one wild moment, all she could think was Yes! This was what she wanted, this wild flurry of sensations, this crazed, mindless mating of flesh. As his mouth raced down to savage her throat, she arched against him, craving the possession.
Then he said her name. Groaned it. The shock of hearing it ripped her back to reality. She was grappling on a couch in a strange apartment with a man she barely knew.
“No.” His hands were moving over her, and they nearly dragged her back into the whirlwind. Desperate to pull away, she shoved and struggled. “Stop. I said no.”
He couldn’t get his breath. If someone had held a gun to his head, he wouldn’t have moved. But the no stopped him. He managed to lift his head, and the reckless light in his eyes had her fighting against a shudder. “Why?”
“Because this is insane.” God, she could still taste him on her lips, and the churning for more of him was making her crazy. “Get off me.”
He could have strangled her for making him want to beg. “Your call, lady.” Because his hands were unsteady, he balled them into fists. “I thought you said you didn’t play games.”
She was humiliated, furious, and frustrated beyond belief. As she saw it, the best disguise was full-blown anger. “I don’t. You’re the one who pushed yourself on me. The simple fact is, I’m not interested.”
“I guess that’s why you were kissing me so hard my teeth are loose.”
“You kissed me.” She jabbed a finger at him. “And you’re so damn big I couldn’t stop you.”
“A simple no did,” he reminded her, and lit a cigarette. “Let’s keep it honest, Counselor. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve been wanting to do that, and more, ever since I saw you sitting like a queen in that grubby station house. Now, maybe you didn’t feel the same way, but when I kissed you, you kissed me right back.”
Sometimes retreat was the best defense. Rachel snatched up her purse and jacket. “It’s done, so there’s nothing more to discuss.”
“Wrong.” He was up and blocking her path. “We can finish discussing it while I take you home.”
“I don’t want you to take me home. I’m not having you take me home.” Eyes blazing, she swung her jacket over her shoulders. “And if you insist on following me there, I’ll have you arrested for harassment.”
He merely grabbed her by the arm. “Try it.”
She did something she wished she’d done the first time she laid eyes on him. She punched him in the stomach. He let out a little whoosh of air, and his eyes narrowed.
“First one’s free. Now, we can walk to the subway, or I can carry you there.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she shouted. “Can’t you take no for an answer?”
His response was to shove her back against the door and kiss the breath out of her. “If I didn’t,” he said between his teeth, “we wouldn’t be walking out of here right now when you’ve got me so wound up I’m going to have to live in a cold shower for the next week.” He yanked open the door. “Now…are you going to walk, or are you going to ride over my shoulder?”
She stuck out her chin and sailed past him.
She’d walk, all right. But she’d be damned if she’d speak to him.
CHAPTER FOUR
At the end of a harried ten-hour day, Rachel walked out of the courthouse. She should have been feeling great—her last client was certainly happy with the non-guilty verdict she’d gotten for him. But this time the victory hadn’t managed to lift her spirits. The only solution she could see was to pick up a quart of ice cream on the way home and gorge herself into a sugar coma.
It usually worked, and since, as a law-abiding citizen, she couldn’t relieve her tension by striding into Lower the Boom and shooting Zackary Muldoon through his thick skull, it was the safest alternative.
She almost tripped over her own feet when she saw him rise from his perch at the bottom of the steps.
