Page 55 of The Agent
“Sweetheart, I think this massage is over.” His voice was husky and he skimmed his hands up her legs before wrapping them around her hips to slide her gently toward him.
Heat flashed through her like a brushfire. She put her palms on the table and helped him scoot her to the end so that her feet touched the floor. Arousal went liquid inside her as she heard his belt buckle clink, his zipper whine, and the sound of a condom envelope being ripped open.
He positioned his cock and then his hands held her hips while he thrust inside her in one smooth motion.
They both gasped out inarticulate cries of pleasure and he began to move. She couldn’t do much except enjoy the feel of him filling her before he pulled almost all the way out and entered her again. His grip on her grew tighter as his rhythm increased. Her body skidded on the sheet, the friction stroking her peaked nipples. Her muscles began to tighten in anticipation, and then he reached around to find her clit with one hand.
Her climax ripped through her so hard that she arched up from the table, her back bowed, as she nearly shrieked at the intensity.
“Oh yeah, sweetheart,” Tully panted, going still as her internal muscles clamped around him. “That feels so good. Make me come.”
Which made her muscles contract again. And then he began to drive in and out of her in a frenzy, shouting her name as he pushed deep and pulsed inside her.
She lay still, savoring the feel of Tully still inside her, his thighs in their fine wool trousers pressed against hers, his breath gusting above her. He let go of her hips and braced his hands on either side of her. She sensed him shifting even before she felt the brush of his lips on her shoulder blade.
“I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now,” he said against her skin.
She turned her head against the table to smile. “All you can see is my back.”
“It’s an amazing back—all curves and dips.” His fingers feathered over her, triggering a delicious shiver. “Your skin looks like cream satin against the blue sheet.”
“I didn’t know you could be so poetic.” Matt had preferred crudity during sex.
“Only when inspired.” He shifted again and slipped out of her, leaving an ache of emptiness. It was dangerous to feel so connected to him during sex.
She shoved up from the table and looked around for her panties while he disposed of the condom. Before she could retrieve her clothes, Tully pulled her into his arms. All the expensive textures of his clothing grazed her naked skin, sending a sensual thrill skittering through her. “I feel like that painting of the naked woman picnicking with the fully dressed men.”
“That painting is sexy as hell,” Tully said.
“It was meant to be shocking.” She leaned against him with a sigh. He was so solid, so strong. She could enjoy that for just a little while without compromising her promises to herself.
“One and the same, in this case,” Tully said, clearly in no hurry to move either. He let out a long exhale, his breath ruffling her hair. “This is nice, Nat. This is real nice.”
She tried to make herself move because it wastoonice. But her muscles refused to obey her brain. Her body knew what it wanted.
They stood in an easy silence for several minutes before Tully exhaled again, this time with a note of regret. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s go get some takeout. I’ve got a powerful craving for some barbecued ribs.”
Half an hour later, she pulled into her driveway with Tully’s Maserati right behind her. As usual, he told her to stay in the car until he’d done recon, so she entertained herself by watching the way his long stride ate up the expanse of lawn before he took her porch steps in a single leap. She lost sight of him when he walked farther onto the porch, so she pulled out her phone to check for stalker emails. So far today, there had been none. Maybe the psycho had gotten whatever nasty thrill he wanted and would leave her alone now.
When Tully knocked at her car window, she jumped before she unlocked the door. He swung it open and said, “We’re leaving.”
It was only then that she noticed the grim set of his mouth and the icy look in his eyes. “What is it?”
“He left something on your door that you don’t want to see. You’re coming to my place for the night.”
Fear froze her as she tried to imagine what was on her door. “Is it a dead animal?” She would hate to be the cause of an innocent creature’s death, even indirectly.
He shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t need this image in your mind.”
“Can you just tell me what it is? I think not knowing makes it worse.”
He looked away for a moment as though debating before he pinned her with that hard gaze. “I’ll tell you if you agree to leave.”
Anger roiled through the fear. “I’ll make that decision after I know what the stalker left for me.”
He made a gesture of frustration. “It’s the picture of you from the email, pinned to the door with a big ugly knife.”
A strange sense of relief eased her tension. “That’s bad but I can handle it.”
