Page 32 of Merrick

Little surprise there, considering that they had spent an inordinate amount of time kissing. Christ, just remembering his mouth on hers was making her moist.

Damn him! He had asked if it was her first time having an orgasm and she had not given him a straight answer. But he was smart enough and experienced enough to realize that it had been her first.

In the past, the only thing she had experienced was a small pop and nothing more and she was too honest to pretend something she was not feeling. She had left the bed of the man she waswith, feeling a sense of dissatisfaction and that something was definitely missing.

Now she knew what it was. Scrubbing her hands over her face, she stood there for a moment, absorbing the significance of what this was. And how it was going to affect her job.

She had spent the night with him, something that she never allowed before. She hated people in her space and when the sex was over, she wanted the man gone. Now she had woken up in a man’s bed, with hardly any sleep at all. The worst of it was that the man was a suspect.

She could see her case being compromised because she slept with him. Let her guard down and allowed him to get under her skin.

She told herself she could have stopped it, simply walked away, and find some other way to get the job done, but she had wanted it to happen. The first touch of his body on hers had done it for her and now she had no idea what to do.

First things first. She need to get out of here and put clothes on. With that in mind, she rinsed off her face and gargled with some mouthwash.

When she went back into the bedroom, she strode into the department store disguised as a closet and selected a white cotton t-shirt. Making a sound of frustration, she stood there staring at herself in the sea of mirrors. She was going to have to retrieve her clothing and get the hell out of here.

She had left her purse and everything else on the balcony and hoped he was not the curious sort, because her piece and her shield were in there.

She had never been this careless before and it bothered the hell out of her. She was halfway down the winding staircase when she saw him coming up. They both stopped and stared at each other. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that rode low over his taut belly and his impressive chest was bare, stirring something deep inside her.

“I thought we could have breakfast on the balcony just outside my bedroom.”

“I have to go. I need to get my things.”

He advanced, and she just stood there like a complete moron until he reached the step below her.

“Look, I really have to go.”

“I know.” Putting the tray down, he clamped his hands on her arms, his eyes roaming her face with a hunger that was transferring to her. “You look good in my shirt.”

“I – I did not have anything else to wear…”

“I’m not complaining.” The look in his eyes had her slapping a hand on his chest. Big mistake, she thought belatedly. His skin was warm, the chest hairs feeling pleasant on her skin and his heart was thudding.

“Look, I really have to go.”

She did not sound too convincing, and he must have noticed it. His hands drifted down to tug at the hem of the shirt and before she knew what was happening, he was taking it off and leaving her naked.

“Look pal…” The rest ended in a gasp as he eased her up and managed to drag his pants down. She found herself sinking into his, taking the hardness into her- until she was blinded. Emotions flooded her, she went blind as he pushed into her.

Turning skillfully, he dropped to the step and wrapped her long legs around his waist as she sheathed him completely. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding so loudly, he could swear it drowned out everything else. That he could want her again, that the want had turned into desperate need took him aback and had him spiraling down.

He had left his bed with her sleeping in it, and it had felt like the most natural damn thing in the world to him. He had sat there watching her sleep and felt the raging inside his chest.

Kicking off the sweats, he clamped his hands around her narrow hips as she started pumping. A cry escaped her when he broughther arched body forward, so he could feast on her nipples. He was hungry for her.

Desperate to make her his. He wanted his stamp on her, wanted her at his side, in his bed, waking up to her and it scared the hell out of him, how much that desperation was making him crazy.

He brought her to a stunning and violent climax within minutes, her body arching, her flesh quivering as she surrendered.

He was right behind her, his body plunging into hers, desperate to touch her soul as he poured his seed and watered her womb. His hands bit into her flesh, making grooves. He lifted his head from her sore nipples and simply took her lips, swallowing her cries as the release overpowered them completely.

Margo clung, the tears burning the back of her eyes as her body fragmented. It occurred to her fleetingly that she had never clung to a man before. Ever.

Chapter 8

The coffee had gone warm. But it was excellent coffee, and she had not expected anything less. He kept her on his lap, wrapped around him while they ate. She had started to fight him, to try and get off him, but his arm was like a steel band around her waist.

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