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“Dammit, Jo, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his tone holding nuances of contrition, but the damage had already been done. “I worry about you, and I think this guy is trying to snow you.”
And, bottom line, Cole didn’t think she could handle the situation or Dean. “Think whatever you’d like,” she said, her voice cool. “He’s given me every reason to believe him. I even found a new driver’s license and credit cards that corroborated his story.”
“There’s ten thousand dollars riding on this guy,” he said, ignoring her attempt to sway him to her way of thinking. “Don’t blow it for me, you, or Vince.”
“You can’t claim bond on an innocent man,” she snapped, her temper getting the best of her.
“You can’t know that until we have proof,” he returned just as testily. “What the fuck is going on with you, Jo?”
“Nothing I’m not grown-up enough to handle.” Too late, she’d revealed way more than she’d intended. “Call Vince, make him aware of the situation, and if all goes well with getting the Suburban repaired, I’ll see you at the office sometime tomorrow.” She disconnected the line before her brother could say anything more and went one step further and shut down her cell phone so he couldn’t call her back tonight.
Standing, she set the phone on the dresser, feeling frustrated and mentally drained. And no matter how she tried to block her brother’s doubts from her mind, she couldn’t stop Cole’s harsh words from echoing in her head, over and over… You’re not thinking straight, Jo, and you’re going to do something stupid if you haven’t already.
She knew her brother was referring to something dangerous and life-threatening as far as her “prisoner” was concerned, but she realized that the only thing in jeopardy in relation to Dean was her heart. In a shockingly short amount of time he’d shaken up the very guarded life in which she’d lived the past two years. Yet, despite the emotional threat Dean posed, despite knowing that each encounter with him pulled her in deeper and deeper, he drew her even now in a way she couldn’t
ignore.
The need she’d developed for Dean was strong, scary, but undeniable. Wanting to forget her brother’s lecture and all the turmoil that awaited her back in San Francisco, and aching to savor this last night with Dean and the mindless pleasure he gave her, she gave in to the sensual cravings and deepest desires he evoked. One more memory to make and cherish before Dean claimed his life back and they went their separate ways.
Stripping out of her clothes, she entered the bathroom and opened the glass enclosure where Dean was soaping up his chest and arms. Steam billowed around her, kissing the tips of her taut breasts, dampening her skin, and heating her just as much as his appreciative gaze that consumed her in one sweeping glance.
She touched a hand to the sheen of moisture gathering between her breasts and followed the trail to her belly, marveling at the fact that she didn’t possess an ounce of modesty or inhibition with this highly sexual man. Amazed, too, that she could enthrall him as much as he excited her. And for the moment, for tonight, that’s all that mattered.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked softly.
A wicked grin curved his mouth. “Sure. I could use someone to scrub my back and all those other hard-to-reach places.”
She smiled in return, already feeling her spirits lift and the last bit of her conversation with Cole fade away. “Only if you’ll scrub mine, too.”
“Now that would be my pleasure,” he drawled, and moved back to make room for her in the small cubicle.
She stepped into the shower and closed the glass door, cocooning them in steam and moisture and heat. Lots of heat. He reached out and tucked his finger beneath her chin, lifting her face so she was staring into his compelling eyes that seemed to search deep into her soul and see vulnerable emotions she tried so hard to hide from everyone else.
“Hey, you okay?” he murmured.
The man was so in tune to her shifting feelings, so concerned about her welfare, despite how much he wanted her. “Yeah, I’m just fine,” she assured him, and took the soapy washcloth from his hand. “Now turn around so I can scrub your back.”
He hesitated a moment, then did as she ordered. She swept the terry cloth across his broad shoulders, and took her time washing the slope of his spine, his hips, buttocks, and thighs. Warm water drizzled over them, rinsing away the soapy suds and leaving his skin smooth and slick to the touch.
And touch him, she did. Letting the washcloth drop to the tiled floor, she slipped her hands around to his chest and skimmed her palms down to his abdomen while lapping the moisture from his shoulder with her tongue. Standing on tiptoes, she deliberately pressed her wet breasts along his back, her feminine mound to his buttocks, and rubbed sinuously against him as she trailed her lips along his jaw. With a low, needy moan, he turned his head, his mouth seeking hers, but she continued to tease him with soft, fleeting kisses as her fingers wrapped around the hard, straining length of his erection.
He instinctively bucked his hips, sliding his shaft more snugly into her grip, and she squeezed him tight and brushed her thumb over the silky, pulsing head of his cock. He sucked in a harsh breath and grabbed her wrist before she could increase the exquisite friction and send him over the edge.
In one fluid motion he managed to turn them both around, so that he was standing behind her now, and flattened her hands on the wall in front of her. She turned her face away from the shower spray drenching her, and he pushed the spigot downward, so the stream of water cascaded over her breasts, licked across her belly, caressed the length of her legs and trickled along the tender flesh in between her thighs like the soft, delicate lap of his tongue. Her provocative thoughts mingled with erotic sensation, heightening her awareness and making her entire body swell with shameless anticipation.
Holding her hands in place on the wall, he insinuated his bare foot and knee between her legs and widened her stance even more. “Have you ever been frisked before, Jo?”
A shiver of excitement coursed through her, adding to the chaotic rush of water over her sensitized skin. Professionally, during training, yes, she’d been patted down, but never, ever by a man who turned her on and set her senses on fire with a hunger and desire she couldn’t seem to control.
“Not like this,” she whispered, wanting this, wanting him.
“It’s a standard search, Ms. Sommers,” he drawled into her ear, his amusing words reminiscent of the same ones she’d spoken to him when she’d taken Dean into custody. “Just to be sure you aren’t carrying any concealed weapons.”
She laughed huskily, then groaned as his hands slid down her wet arms, cupped her breasts in his palms and his thumbs flicked over her nipples in a tantalizing caress. Flirtatious and teasing, he skimmed his fingers over her curves, along her sleek skin, down the length of her body, slowly, sensuously, bringing nerve endings alive with desire. It didn’t escape her notice that he was once again holding the reins of this seduction, controlling her every response and ultimate surrender, yet she was too aroused, too needy, to care.
“Umm, only one more place to check,” he said, and straightened, bringing their bodies flush, his chest to her back, his groin to her bottom, where his thick erection nestled provocatively in the crease of her ass. He slipped a hand around to her belly, coasted lower, and parted her swollen, aching flesh with long fingers. She moaned. His first probing touch felt so hot, so acute…and she felt so sensitive, so wet—ready and primed for a wild, uninhibited orgasm.
“Oh, yeah,” he encouraged in a low growl against her neck. “Come for me, Joelle, just like this…”
