Two of a Kind
Page 4
“Are you going to take the job?” he asked.
“I want to.” Her voice had a quality of longing.
“You should. You’ll do well. It’s mostly logistics and you excel at getting things done.”
“You can’t know that,” she said.
He shrugged. “I asked Ford about you. That’s pretty much all he would tell me.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I’m not worried about the operation part of the job. It’s everything else. I’m not good with emotions. I’m too in my head.” She ducked her head. “I wish I was more like you. In the moment. You don’t seem like you need to think everything through. That’s nice.”
He wasn’t allowing himself to be in the moment right now, he thought grimly. If he did, he would already have her na**d and moaning. He would have explored every inch of her body before settling with his mouth between her legs.
Blood surged at the image. He wanted to hear her breathing hitch as she got closer. He wanted to feel her tensing before she shattered, her mind nothing more than a hazy mess of pleasure.
“Gideon?”
He forced himself back to the present. “I could teach you some breathing techniques that might help.”
She laughed.
The sweet, happy sound filled the silence of the night. It was the kind of sound that could save a man, he realized. Or bring him to his knees.
The need grew and, with it, the understanding that he couldn’t take the risk.
“It’s late,” he told her.
“I’m aware of the time. The movement of the stars and the moon are a clear...” Her humor faded. “Oh, you’re asking me to leave.”
“You have a long drive back.”
She stood. “It’s three-point-seven miles, but that’s not the point. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you so long. Thanks for talking to me. It helped.”
He felt as if he’d kicked a kitten. “Felicia, don’t read too much into this.” He rose. “Look. Like you said, it’s complicated.”
She looked into his eyes. “People say that when they don’t want to tell the truth.”
The truth? Tension had returned and, with it, his arousal. Restlessness made him want to move, but he knew the value of staying still.
She put her hand on his shoulder, then moved her fingers to his biceps. “You’re very powerful. More muscled than Justice. His body type is leaner, and he has to work harder to bulk up. Your physiology allows you to add muscle more quickly. It’s...interesting.”
As was the warmth of her skin, he thought, watching her green eyes darken slightly as her features sharpened and her gaze intensified. The air seemed charged as energy flowed between them. He didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, but he was starting to have a good idea.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he commanded.
The corners of her mouth turned up. “I’m trying to flirt. Sorry. It’s harder than it looks. I guess it’s all the nuances.”
She swayed toward him. “Our previous encounter was very satisfying. There have been two other men, and it wasn’t the same. I suppose it’s one of those intangibles that can’t be measured. With you, I felt more comfortable. We laughed and talked in addition to making love. I remember that we ordered champagne and you—”
He knew exactly what he’d done with a mouthful of champagne. He remembered everything about their night together.
Unable to stop himself, he put his hands on her waist and drew her to him. She went willingly, her head already slightly raised so he barely had to bend to kiss her.
* * *
YES, FELICIA THOUGHT, as Gideon’s mouth pressed against hers. She let her eyes sink closed as she lost herself in the feel of his lips against hers.
The kiss was gentler than she remembered. As if he were retracing steps. She let herself feel the heat radiating out from a central point low in her belly and get lost in the image of fire dancing across her skin.
She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him. He moved his hands from her waist to her back, then slid them up and down. She wanted to stretch and purr, she thought, her brain cataloging the various sensations of his kiss, his fingers, the heat where they touched, chest to chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips. He stiffened and drew back a little.
While she wasn’t usually one for insights, she was acutely aware that he had yet to decide. That the kiss had been more reaction than plan and he was still in a place where he could say no. She didn’t know why he would refuse, but understood he still could.
She opened her eyes to look at him. His jaw was tight, his gaze filled with indecision.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, his voice nearly a growl.
She smiled. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”
Four years ago she had pursued Gideon, she thought. Had picked him from all the other men in the bar that night. As she had said, there was something about him. His strength, of course. Nearly any female would respond well to a powerful man. That was merely biology. But there had been something else. An elusive sense of rightness, although if she did some research, she could probably figure out what it was.
Now the need to be with him was as strong, and for a similar reason, she realized. She was unsettled. Confused. There had been so many changes in her life, and the job offer had provided a tipping point of sorts. She needed to feel anchored and safe. How strange she would seek that in Gideon’s arms.
She didn’t have many gut instincts—another hazard of living in her head. But she had learned to trust them when they occurred, and right now her gut was telling her that she wanted to have sex with this man. Hot, hungry sex.
“I want this,” she murmured, still working through the questions.
She studied him, his broad shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands. Her gaze drifted down and she saw his erection straining against his jeans.
Anticipation joined satisfaction. There was no time to get her sweat glands working to tip the scales, so to speak. She would have to be more direct.
She quickly pulled off her T-shirt and dropped it onto the lounge chair beside her. Then she undid her bra and let it fall on top of her shirt.
Gideon’s jaw tightened, but otherwise, he didn’t move. She reached for his hands, took them in hers and placed them on her bare breasts.
Perhaps from instinct or perhaps because he couldn’t resist, he cupped her br**sts and rubbed his thumbs against her nipples. She hadn’t felt them tighten, but when she glanced down she saw the tips were puckered.
He moved his thumbs again, and the gentle pressure sent pleasure moving all through her. His skin was more tanned against her paleness. His hands large. He moved back and forth against her until she felt her eyelids start to sink closed so she could get lost in how he made her feel.
She drew in a breath. “I’m enjoying everything you’re doing and—”
“Shut up.”
Her eyes popped open, and she saw him smiling.
“Too much conversation?”
“Yes. This is when it’s best to be quiet.”
Relief made her nearly as weak as his hands on her breasts.
“So we’re going to have sex?”
His answer was to haul her against him and thrust his tongue in her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke, wanting every sensation possible, wanting, no, needing, to be intimate with this man. Vulnerable.
As soon as the thought occurred, she felt herself starting to analyze what it meant. She did her best to turn off her analytical brain and focus instead on the feel of his soft T-shirt under her fingers, of his broad shoulders.
He deepened the kiss, then broke free and stepped back. In a matter of seconds, he’d pulled off his shirt and flung it away. His boots and socks followed. As he reached for the belt on his jeans, she undid her own and pushed them, along with her bikini panties, to the deck.
Before she could even admire his na**dness, he was moving past her to one of the lounge chairs. He raised a bar in back, then released it. The chair collapsed into a flat position.
“How clever,” she began, only to find herself being half guided, half carried to the chair. She was placed on the end, in a seated position, then Gideon dropped to his knees.
He buried his hands in her hair and kissed her. His tongue stroked against her lips before dipping inside. She kissed him back, even as she moved her fingers up and down his arms and his back.
He dropped his hands to her breasts. As he began to trail kisses down her neck, he urged her to lie back.
She did as he requested, her body on the cushion, her knees bent, her feet on the wood floor of the deck. As his fingers teased her sensitive nipples, his mouth moved lower and lower, the ultimate destination quite obvious.
He’d done that to her before, she remembered. The other two men hadn’t, but Gideon had given her her first orgasm with his tongue. She shivered slightly as he kissed his way down her belly, pausing to lightly circle the inside of her belly button.
She moved her arms so she could use her fingers to part herself for him. He’d taught her that, as well, she thought, her breathing already increasing.
Her insides clenched as he got closer and closer. She was so swollen. Her clitoris would be completely engorged with blood and extremely sensitive.
He shifted his hands so his palms were flat on her breasts. He massaged her, distracting her for a second. She felt the warmth of his breath, then he flicked the tip of his tongue against her. Just once. She gasped as a jolt of involuntary movement caused her to jump. He chuckled, then did it again.
This time she was prepared and felt herself sinking into sensation. He explored all of her, easing his tongue all the way inside her before returning it to her clit. Once there, he settled into a steady, slow rhythm of back and forth and around, his hands keeping pace on her breasts.
The predictable movements allowed her to focus on what she was feeling instead of anticipating what should happen next. As more and more muscles tensed, as her nerve endings fired more quickly, she felt her brain starting to shut down. There was only the sensation. She, who lived in a world of thoughts and ideas, was reduced to simply feeling. It was glorious.
Back and forth, around and around, with each stroke of his tongue, her body began the steady climb to release. She pulsed her hips, an unconscious signal that she wanted more. She was aware of her breathing getting faster and faster. Of small moans.
He moved one of his hands, sliding it down her body before inserting a finger deep inside her and curving up. Scientists argued about the reality of the G-spot, she thought hazily, trying to part her legs more, to press down. Right now she was convinced it existed, and when he rubbed it like that she was—
Her orgasm caught her unawares. One second she was tense and ready and the next she was flying. She rode the waves of pleasure, calling out, gasping and begging, screaming maybe. She wasn’t sure. She shook and shuddered. One finger became two, and she pushed down, wanting him to fill her.
His tongue stayed steady, allowing her release to go on and on until there was nothing left. This was what it felt like to be boneless, she thought, barely able to open her eyes.
He straightened.
She half raised herself on her elbows and glanced at his large erection. She smiled as she reached for him, guiding him inside her.
He was large enough to stretch her as he pushed in. She wrapped her legs around his hips, reached her hands to his. He grabbed hers. Their fingers laced together. She tried to keep her eyes open, to watch him as he pumped in faster and faster, but she was unable to stay focused. Not with the need growing inside her. Not when she was drawing closer to the edge once again, straining and straining until they came together.
CHAPTER THREE
FELICIA ARRIVED FOR her morning meeting right on time. As she parked by the warehouse that was the new offices for CDS, she found herself unable to stop smiling.
She’d spent the night with Gideon. They’d slept in a tangle of arms and legs in his big bed, then awakened before dawn to make love again. She’d left around five and had driven back to her place to shower and prepare for her day.
Although it was simple biology, what she’d done sounded so illicit. She liked that. Usually she was the boring one. The predictable friend who was always around and rarely had plans. She didn’t have sex with men she hadn’t seen in years—certainly not outside. At night.
She had a job offer and the aftereffects of the hormone bath that went with a satisfying sexual experience. Right now life was very, very good. Still grinning foolishly, she collected her backpack and walked into the building.
What had once been one big open space had been partitioned into offices, classrooms, locker rooms and a large workout facility. The plumbing was taking the longest. In addition to the usual toilets and sinks, there were also showers, lockers and a dressing area. Segregated by gender. Angel had foolishly suggested they make the women’s locker room smaller, but Felicia had stared him down. Justice and Ford hadn’t bothered coming to his defense. Probably because they knew better.
Justice was already there, his large presence seeming to fill the room. He sat at a battered desk he’d picked up at a garage sale a few weeks ago. Their “real” office furniture was on order.
“Hey,” he said as she entered, not bothering to look up from his laptop. “Did you file the permits for the shooting range?”
“Yes.” Her tone indicated she really meant “Of course,” but why state the obvious? “I took them directly to the city officials myself. They’ll be processed by the fifteenth.”
There was a professional mission statement in the articles of incorporation, but at its heart, CDS was a bodyguard school. It would provide advanced training for those in the industry as well as refresher courses. Ford would be working with corporations who wanted a unique team-building facility, while Angel would be in charge of the actual training. Justice was going to run the place.
“I want to.” Her voice had a quality of longing.
“You should. You’ll do well. It’s mostly logistics and you excel at getting things done.”
“You can’t know that,” she said.
He shrugged. “I asked Ford about you. That’s pretty much all he would tell me.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I’m not worried about the operation part of the job. It’s everything else. I’m not good with emotions. I’m too in my head.” She ducked her head. “I wish I was more like you. In the moment. You don’t seem like you need to think everything through. That’s nice.”
He wasn’t allowing himself to be in the moment right now, he thought grimly. If he did, he would already have her na**d and moaning. He would have explored every inch of her body before settling with his mouth between her legs.
Blood surged at the image. He wanted to hear her breathing hitch as she got closer. He wanted to feel her tensing before she shattered, her mind nothing more than a hazy mess of pleasure.
“Gideon?”
He forced himself back to the present. “I could teach you some breathing techniques that might help.”
She laughed.
The sweet, happy sound filled the silence of the night. It was the kind of sound that could save a man, he realized. Or bring him to his knees.
The need grew and, with it, the understanding that he couldn’t take the risk.
“It’s late,” he told her.
“I’m aware of the time. The movement of the stars and the moon are a clear...” Her humor faded. “Oh, you’re asking me to leave.”
“You have a long drive back.”
She stood. “It’s three-point-seven miles, but that’s not the point. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you so long. Thanks for talking to me. It helped.”
He felt as if he’d kicked a kitten. “Felicia, don’t read too much into this.” He rose. “Look. Like you said, it’s complicated.”
She looked into his eyes. “People say that when they don’t want to tell the truth.”
The truth? Tension had returned and, with it, his arousal. Restlessness made him want to move, but he knew the value of staying still.
She put her hand on his shoulder, then moved her fingers to his biceps. “You’re very powerful. More muscled than Justice. His body type is leaner, and he has to work harder to bulk up. Your physiology allows you to add muscle more quickly. It’s...interesting.”
As was the warmth of her skin, he thought, watching her green eyes darken slightly as her features sharpened and her gaze intensified. The air seemed charged as energy flowed between them. He didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, but he was starting to have a good idea.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he commanded.
The corners of her mouth turned up. “I’m trying to flirt. Sorry. It’s harder than it looks. I guess it’s all the nuances.”
She swayed toward him. “Our previous encounter was very satisfying. There have been two other men, and it wasn’t the same. I suppose it’s one of those intangibles that can’t be measured. With you, I felt more comfortable. We laughed and talked in addition to making love. I remember that we ordered champagne and you—”
He knew exactly what he’d done with a mouthful of champagne. He remembered everything about their night together.
Unable to stop himself, he put his hands on her waist and drew her to him. She went willingly, her head already slightly raised so he barely had to bend to kiss her.
* * *
YES, FELICIA THOUGHT, as Gideon’s mouth pressed against hers. She let her eyes sink closed as she lost herself in the feel of his lips against hers.
The kiss was gentler than she remembered. As if he were retracing steps. She let herself feel the heat radiating out from a central point low in her belly and get lost in the image of fire dancing across her skin.
She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him. He moved his hands from her waist to her back, then slid them up and down. She wanted to stretch and purr, she thought, her brain cataloging the various sensations of his kiss, his fingers, the heat where they touched, chest to chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips. He stiffened and drew back a little.
While she wasn’t usually one for insights, she was acutely aware that he had yet to decide. That the kiss had been more reaction than plan and he was still in a place where he could say no. She didn’t know why he would refuse, but understood he still could.
She opened her eyes to look at him. His jaw was tight, his gaze filled with indecision.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, his voice nearly a growl.
She smiled. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”
Four years ago she had pursued Gideon, she thought. Had picked him from all the other men in the bar that night. As she had said, there was something about him. His strength, of course. Nearly any female would respond well to a powerful man. That was merely biology. But there had been something else. An elusive sense of rightness, although if she did some research, she could probably figure out what it was.
Now the need to be with him was as strong, and for a similar reason, she realized. She was unsettled. Confused. There had been so many changes in her life, and the job offer had provided a tipping point of sorts. She needed to feel anchored and safe. How strange she would seek that in Gideon’s arms.
She didn’t have many gut instincts—another hazard of living in her head. But she had learned to trust them when they occurred, and right now her gut was telling her that she wanted to have sex with this man. Hot, hungry sex.
“I want this,” she murmured, still working through the questions.
She studied him, his broad shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands. Her gaze drifted down and she saw his erection straining against his jeans.
Anticipation joined satisfaction. There was no time to get her sweat glands working to tip the scales, so to speak. She would have to be more direct.
She quickly pulled off her T-shirt and dropped it onto the lounge chair beside her. Then she undid her bra and let it fall on top of her shirt.
Gideon’s jaw tightened, but otherwise, he didn’t move. She reached for his hands, took them in hers and placed them on her bare breasts.
Perhaps from instinct or perhaps because he couldn’t resist, he cupped her br**sts and rubbed his thumbs against her nipples. She hadn’t felt them tighten, but when she glanced down she saw the tips were puckered.
He moved his thumbs again, and the gentle pressure sent pleasure moving all through her. His skin was more tanned against her paleness. His hands large. He moved back and forth against her until she felt her eyelids start to sink closed so she could get lost in how he made her feel.
She drew in a breath. “I’m enjoying everything you’re doing and—”
“Shut up.”
Her eyes popped open, and she saw him smiling.
“Too much conversation?”
“Yes. This is when it’s best to be quiet.”
Relief made her nearly as weak as his hands on her breasts.
“So we’re going to have sex?”
His answer was to haul her against him and thrust his tongue in her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke, wanting every sensation possible, wanting, no, needing, to be intimate with this man. Vulnerable.
As soon as the thought occurred, she felt herself starting to analyze what it meant. She did her best to turn off her analytical brain and focus instead on the feel of his soft T-shirt under her fingers, of his broad shoulders.
He deepened the kiss, then broke free and stepped back. In a matter of seconds, he’d pulled off his shirt and flung it away. His boots and socks followed. As he reached for the belt on his jeans, she undid her own and pushed them, along with her bikini panties, to the deck.
Before she could even admire his na**dness, he was moving past her to one of the lounge chairs. He raised a bar in back, then released it. The chair collapsed into a flat position.
“How clever,” she began, only to find herself being half guided, half carried to the chair. She was placed on the end, in a seated position, then Gideon dropped to his knees.
He buried his hands in her hair and kissed her. His tongue stroked against her lips before dipping inside. She kissed him back, even as she moved her fingers up and down his arms and his back.
He dropped his hands to her breasts. As he began to trail kisses down her neck, he urged her to lie back.
She did as he requested, her body on the cushion, her knees bent, her feet on the wood floor of the deck. As his fingers teased her sensitive nipples, his mouth moved lower and lower, the ultimate destination quite obvious.
He’d done that to her before, she remembered. The other two men hadn’t, but Gideon had given her her first orgasm with his tongue. She shivered slightly as he kissed his way down her belly, pausing to lightly circle the inside of her belly button.
She moved her arms so she could use her fingers to part herself for him. He’d taught her that, as well, she thought, her breathing already increasing.
Her insides clenched as he got closer and closer. She was so swollen. Her clitoris would be completely engorged with blood and extremely sensitive.
He shifted his hands so his palms were flat on her breasts. He massaged her, distracting her for a second. She felt the warmth of his breath, then he flicked the tip of his tongue against her. Just once. She gasped as a jolt of involuntary movement caused her to jump. He chuckled, then did it again.
This time she was prepared and felt herself sinking into sensation. He explored all of her, easing his tongue all the way inside her before returning it to her clit. Once there, he settled into a steady, slow rhythm of back and forth and around, his hands keeping pace on her breasts.
The predictable movements allowed her to focus on what she was feeling instead of anticipating what should happen next. As more and more muscles tensed, as her nerve endings fired more quickly, she felt her brain starting to shut down. There was only the sensation. She, who lived in a world of thoughts and ideas, was reduced to simply feeling. It was glorious.
Back and forth, around and around, with each stroke of his tongue, her body began the steady climb to release. She pulsed her hips, an unconscious signal that she wanted more. She was aware of her breathing getting faster and faster. Of small moans.
He moved one of his hands, sliding it down her body before inserting a finger deep inside her and curving up. Scientists argued about the reality of the G-spot, she thought hazily, trying to part her legs more, to press down. Right now she was convinced it existed, and when he rubbed it like that she was—
Her orgasm caught her unawares. One second she was tense and ready and the next she was flying. She rode the waves of pleasure, calling out, gasping and begging, screaming maybe. She wasn’t sure. She shook and shuddered. One finger became two, and she pushed down, wanting him to fill her.
His tongue stayed steady, allowing her release to go on and on until there was nothing left. This was what it felt like to be boneless, she thought, barely able to open her eyes.
He straightened.
She half raised herself on her elbows and glanced at his large erection. She smiled as she reached for him, guiding him inside her.
He was large enough to stretch her as he pushed in. She wrapped her legs around his hips, reached her hands to his. He grabbed hers. Their fingers laced together. She tried to keep her eyes open, to watch him as he pumped in faster and faster, but she was unable to stay focused. Not with the need growing inside her. Not when she was drawing closer to the edge once again, straining and straining until they came together.
CHAPTER THREE
FELICIA ARRIVED FOR her morning meeting right on time. As she parked by the warehouse that was the new offices for CDS, she found herself unable to stop smiling.
She’d spent the night with Gideon. They’d slept in a tangle of arms and legs in his big bed, then awakened before dawn to make love again. She’d left around five and had driven back to her place to shower and prepare for her day.
Although it was simple biology, what she’d done sounded so illicit. She liked that. Usually she was the boring one. The predictable friend who was always around and rarely had plans. She didn’t have sex with men she hadn’t seen in years—certainly not outside. At night.
She had a job offer and the aftereffects of the hormone bath that went with a satisfying sexual experience. Right now life was very, very good. Still grinning foolishly, she collected her backpack and walked into the building.
What had once been one big open space had been partitioned into offices, classrooms, locker rooms and a large workout facility. The plumbing was taking the longest. In addition to the usual toilets and sinks, there were also showers, lockers and a dressing area. Segregated by gender. Angel had foolishly suggested they make the women’s locker room smaller, but Felicia had stared him down. Justice and Ford hadn’t bothered coming to his defense. Probably because they knew better.
Justice was already there, his large presence seeming to fill the room. He sat at a battered desk he’d picked up at a garage sale a few weeks ago. Their “real” office furniture was on order.
“Hey,” he said as she entered, not bothering to look up from his laptop. “Did you file the permits for the shooting range?”
“Yes.” Her tone indicated she really meant “Of course,” but why state the obvious? “I took them directly to the city officials myself. They’ll be processed by the fifteenth.”
There was a professional mission statement in the articles of incorporation, but at its heart, CDS was a bodyguard school. It would provide advanced training for those in the industry as well as refresher courses. Ford would be working with corporations who wanted a unique team-building facility, while Angel would be in charge of the actual training. Justice was going to run the place.
