Page 39 of Four Cards Exposed

It was a tiny mark, barely noticeable—or only noticeable because he was staring so intently at her swollen red lips. But it was a sign, as well. A sign that he could hurt her, without even meaning to.

Her small, pink tongue slid across her lips, as if she could still taste him.

She looked … delectable.

James didn’t quite manage to swallow the groan that rose from his chest. If he stayed near her for a second longer, he was going to jump her.

He forced himself to cross the distance to the sink. He let the water run, pretending to test the temperature, though he’d never known it to be anything other than lukewarm.

Then Susan was behind him, getting right into his personal space.

“What if this is what I want?” she asked, running her hand down his side, her touch warm and gentle. “What if this could be good for both of us?”

James shivered. He kept himself still by sheer force of will alone.

“This isn’t the right time or place, Susan. Not like this …”

She sighed, and the small puff of air released from her lungs warmed his back.

“I would normally be the first to agree with you, James. But tonight … I think we need each other,” she said quietly against his back.

It was her voice that finished shattering his control. He turned so they were facing each other, his hands already on her body. Her hair smelled like the ocean, taking him immediately back to Sharp’s Cove, where they’d first met.

James had traveled all over the country with the FBI, traveled enough that he could hardly remember the name of the towns he’d been to—except for the small seaside town where he’d first seen Susan. He was never going to forget that name.

“You smell so good,” he groaned.

Susan smiled cheekily. “I’ll bet I taste even better.”

And then his lips were on hers. Her mouth opened, letting him in. She tasted like she smelled, like a fresh sea breeze.

His hands found her waist, made their way past the tight top to her flat, toned stomach and slim waist, then down to her luscious hips. His fingers pressed as hard as he dared to without bruising her.

Susan moaned against his mouth, and James swallowed the moan greedily.

She squeezed herself tighter against him—as if she couldn’t get close enough. He felt himself grow harder.

“Wait. I need a shower,” he said.

“Later.” His cock jumped as she whispered the word right next to his ear. Then her hands were on his chest, her short, red nails lightly grazing his T-shirt.

“Yes,” he agreed. His cock was fast overtaking his brain. Before he could second-guess himself, he’d pulled off Susan’s tight top, leaving her clad in a black balcony bra and those tight jeans shorts. Her breasts heaved, the nipples threatening to spill out of the bra.

James caressed the top of her breasts over the bra for an instant. Then his mouth came down to kiss her breasts, pulling down the fabric to ease his access. Pushed up by the balcony bra, her nipples were a sight to behold—brown and stiff, like thick raisins. He pulled one into his mouth and suckled gently, while his hand caressed her other breast. Then he changed sides, admiring as her nipples became even larger under his ministrations.

“So beautiful,” he said.

Susan moaned. “Take me to bed, James,” she whispered.

James pulled her into his arms. For a moment, a memory assaulted him, of the last time he’d held her in his arms, during the fire which almost killed her friends. He could almost smell her burnt skin.

“James?” Her voice was laced with concern.

“I’m okay,” he whispered into her hair, pulling himself back into the present. He set her down gently on the soggy bed. At least the sheets were clean—he’d changed them that morning.

“I’m sorry about the bed. About all of this,” he said, his eyes roaming the bare room, eying the cracks on the walls.

“Come here,” she whispered. Her hands went up to her back and unclipped the bra, setting her breasts free.