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Eyes fixed on her breasts, he started on the pajama bottoms. The loose elastic band made it easy for him to work them over her hips and down her legs. He whipped them off, and they went sailing.
Then, becoming unrushed, his hand lightly and slowly skimmed her leg up from her knee all the way to the top of her thigh. He rested his warm palm on her mound.
Just that, no more, before continuing the path upward. He drew a lazy circle around her navel with the minuscule hole on the rim of it. His eyes met hers with an unspoken question.
“A girls’ weekend trip to New Orleans got a little wild. At the time, it seemed like a good idea.”
“It was a good idea,” he said, giving her a wicked smile. “It was a fabulous idea. I love the idea. What was it?”
“A diamond stud. Well, zirconium.”
“You still have it?”
“I had to take it out when I got pregnant.”
“Hmm.”
He touched the tiny hole with the tip of his tongue, then continued his exploration. His hand moved up to her breast, which he cupped and lifted as he bent his head and claimed it with his mouth. He drew it in deep and tugged strongly. His tongue was deft against her nipple, by turns flirty and then fervent.
Elle’s back arched in an appeal for more. His fingers had readied her other breast, and while applying the same sensual treatment, he slid his hand down the center of her body to the vee of her thighs. Again, he rested his hand there, his palm radiating heat as he lightly ground it against her.
When his fingers tapered to slide into her cleft, she sighed and parted her legs. He lifted his head from her breast and turned to watch as he slipped his fingers into her. He monitored each stroke as though wanting to get it just right and make the most of each caress.
Sometimes his fingertips tarried just at the entrance, moving only slightly, leaving her in breathless anticipation. Sometimes they withdrew completely and waited for an imploring whimper from her before penetrating again.
She became tightly wound by pleasurable sensations and began to rock her hips against the heel of his hand. He brought his gaze back to her face, giving her a lusty look as his fingers continued to caress from the inside while his thumb played over and around the spot that most craved his touch.
“I’m gonna kiss you here,” he whispered in a darkly seductive voice. His thumb pressed and spiraled, and her body jerked with the onset of an orgasm that she fought to withhold. “But not until I have a lot of time. Which isn’t now.”
He pulled his hand away, settled himself between her thighs, and groaned her name as he pushed into her in one purposeful glide. He filled her but continued to lean in until they were completely grafted. She contracted around him, and he hissed.
“Please don’t move yet, Elle. If you do, I’ll come, and I don’t want to come until I’ve fucked you, and I don’t want to fuck you until I’ve said this.”
Forearms supporting him, he held her head between his hands. His breath was hot against her face, his eyes glassy with arousal. She could feel his heartbeat against her breasts as well as deep within her.
“I want you. Don’t doubt that. Maybe, in some small part, it does have to do with this.” He tipped his head toward the scars on his left arm. “But even if it does, does it matter? It brought us together. From the moment I looked up and saw you, looked into your eyes, I recognized you. Innately. I knew you immediately, knew that I had to be with you. Like this.”
To illustrate his point, he flexed his hips. She reacted with a corresponding move. He groaned, “Aw, Jesus. I asked you not to move.”
Before it became too late for both of them, he levered himself up and began to thrust.
Chapter 29
Glenda woke up to a ringing sound. She automatically reached for her cell phone before realizing that her doorbell was chiming. She checked the time on her phone. It was a little before six a.m.
Immediately thinking of Elle, she got out of bed and pulled on a robe as she hurriedly went through her house toward the front door. When she reached it, she looked through the panel of glass flanking it.
Looking back at her were Compton and Perkins. Perkins stared, unblinking and expressionless. Compton looked the worse for wear. Her big hair had deflated, and dead leaves were stuck to the mud that caked her sensible shoes.
She said, “Let us in, please, Ms. Foster. We need to talk to you.”
“If it has to do with Elle and last night’s debacle, I already know. I saw it on the news hours ago. Your incompetence knows no bounds, does it? I can only hope and pray that Elle is safe. If she is, it’s no thanks to you and that bunch of East Texas hayseeds you put in charge of guarding her. Although I am deeply sorry that two of them were killed. And that young woman’s husband, of course. Do you think the same person is responsible?”
“The investigations are still too fresh to draw conclusions.”
Asking for more information would be pointless. Compton deflected, and Perkins was a brick wall. But there was only one explanation for their being on her doorstep.
She gave the knot of her robe’s belt an emphatic yank. “If you came here expecting to find Elle, you’ve wasted a trip.”
