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She reached down low while he was kissing her and unzipped the front of his jeans. Then she slipped her hands underneath his T-shirt and pulled it up as far as she could. He stopped what he was doing long enough to allow her to pull it up over his head. His mouth returned to pleasuring her nipples, and she traced the lines of his sculpted chest with her fingertips.
Eager for more, he pushed her back on the bed. When she was lying flat, he grabbed the top of her skirt and slid it down over her thighs and to her calves. He just stood there for a moment, staring at her. “God, Naomi,” he said, pulling the skirt the rest of the way off and tossing it to the floor. She lay like a wet dream in white silk panties.
He picked up one of her legs and began caressing it from her ankle to the top of her thigh and back again. It felt so good; she could feel her panties start to soak. With her leg raised as it was, she imagined him plunging himself into her. It took all her will not to pull him forward to make that happen.
His hand lingered on her thigh, reaching higher, until his fingers gently brushed the edges of her labia, which were now so swollen her panties couldn’t hold them in. He pulled her panties off, then took off the rest of his clothes, reached into his pants pocket for a foil packet, sheathed himself, and lay down next to her.
His body was hard, from his neck to his toes, but when she touched it, she felt like an artist who was molding hot clay. She ran her hand across his chest, stopping to allow her fingers to caress his nipples. Then she ran it down further to his abdomen, and when she got close to touching his hard cock that lay throbbing against her, he shivered. She traced her fingers around it for a bit before finally wrapping her hand around it.
She loved the way his shaft felt in her hand, and the fact that her hand could barely encircle it. It throbbed as if it had a mind of its own, and as she gently stroked it, Corbett slid his hand down across her nipples and into her wetness. Her pussy was soaked now, and as his rough fingers found her swollen nub and began to rub it, she thought she might orgasm with his fingers alone.
She scooted back on the bed, hoping he would follow. She wanted to feel him pulsing inside of her the way she felt him pulse in her hand. But instead of climbing on top of her, he lifted both her legs to his shoulders and lowered his lips to her pussy. He licked her swollen clit, teasing it, before plunging his tongue at last deep inside. Feeling a wave of ecstasy building inside of her, Naomi dug her fingernails into his shoulders, but he didn’t seem to mind. She’d never felt anything like what he was doing to her, and she never wanted it to stop. She suddenly felt her body convulse as hot liquid ran down her thighs.
Corbett used his tongue to clean her up before sliding his body on top of hers and, at last, slipping into her. He moaned and whispered her name as he felt her tight warmth wrap itself around him. He moved his hips slowly at first, wanting to savor it… wanting it to last all night. He bent his head and suckled one of her nipples into his mouth as his thrusts became faster and more urgent. Then he raised the top part of his body up so that his hands were on either side of her head. She slid her hands along his arms and up to where his hard biceps bulged, and the veins in them throbbed with the blood his rapid pulse was shooting through his body.
With one last thrust, he came as she wrapped her legs tightly around him and pulled him into her with her thighs. She came again, too, shivering, unable to control it. Corbett collapsed next to her on the bed, letting himself slide slowly out of her, neither of them wanting it to be over.
When he caught his breath, he rolled over and grabbed her in a bear hug and whispered, “Thank you.” It felt like a compliment.
Naomi smiled. “No, thank you,” she said.
Sex with Naomihad been more than amazing. He’d felt like all the stress of the entire past month had left his body. And the way her eyes shined at him now—it struck his soul. As those eyes began to droop in tiredness, he loosened his grip on her a bit, but kept her in his arms while she fell asleep. Watching her eyelids flutter, he wished he knew what she was thinking. He kissed her lips once again, and she smiled and breathed a contented sigh. Then he snuggled down into her and also let his dreams overtake him.
Corbett slept better than he had in years.
In the morning, neither of them had regrets. Quite the opposite. Before they got out of bed to face the chaos that was bound to come their way, they made love again. This time, as they climaxed, they each held on to the moment, knowing they would use it to carry them through the rest of the day.
Corpus Christi, Texas
DEA Field Office
Thursday Morning
Corbett walkedinto work that morning whistling, still basking in the glory of making love to Naomi, when he realized he was the only one smiling. There was a pall hanging over the building. People looked like they were walking around in a fog, and when Corbett asked Sue what was going on, she burst into tears, unable to answer.
He knocked on Lewis’s door, and when the supervising agent invited him to come in, Corbett pushed it open to see him, Gomez, Director Kemp, and Freeman in a group. Freeman’s eyes were wet and puffy.
Freeman’s crying did not compute in Corbett’s head.
“What happened?” he questioned, afraid to hear the answer.
“Agent Dillon is dead,” the director told him.
Corbett steeled himself. He knew Sam wasn’t the good guy he had once thought he was, but he had been his friend for a very long time. The ache in his chest was for the man Corbett knew Sam could have been if Vincent Heston hadn’t come into his life.
“How?” he asked.
He sat down while Gomez told him what had happened. The officer outside Sam’s house had been knocked out cold. He had one hell of a concussion, but he would be okay. Whoever had attacked the officer had then blasted the door of the house down to get in. Sam was killed instantly when the buck shot had ripped through the door. Whoever had killed him had ransacked the house; they were looking for something. Corbett wondered if they found it.
“Where’s Heston?” Corbett demanded. This was all Vincent’s fault. He’d been the one who manipulated Sam into doing his bidding. Corbett wanted—no, he needed—to talk to the bastard face to face.
“He’s in the holding cell at the office in San Antonio. We’re going to have to move him to county today. He lawyered up right away, and he’s barely spoken a word since last night, unless it’s to ask for a pillow or more dessert.”
“Can I talk to him?” Corbett asked.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Agent Lindstrom,” the director said.
“What’s the harm? He can refuse to talk to me if he wants to. And his lawyer can be present. Just give me a few minutes.”
