Break for Me (9 page)

It was a welcome distraction now, though. Something else to think about besides just
her. Besides the fact that he’d pushed her too hard—attraction was one thing, but
telling her that this wasn’t something that had just … hell, happened? Yeah, she didn’t
need this on top of all the other shit she was dealing with.

Now he had to figure out if he’d fucked it up good or just set them back a little.

The bottle of wine from the local winery, Lanthier, had enough left for them to split
a glass and he held it up as she finished rinsing off a plate. She smiled at him but
the smile was distracted, like she was a million miles away.

At least she ain’t running, right?

As much as he admired her very nice ass, he was getting kind of tired of seeing that
view more than anything else. So he had to be happy that she hadn’t taken off.

He knew enough about Jensen Bell to know one simple thing—if she’d decided she didn’t
want to be here, she wasn’t going to hang around, not even for the sake of politeness.

The silence gratedon him as he finished his wine. He dumped the bottle, trying to
find some way to fill that silence, but when he turned around, Jensen was standing
in front of him. Right there.

So close. Too close.

The scent of her, rain, sweet woman, soft skin, and the subtle fragrance of the lotion
she wore, flooded his head as he reached up to steady himself before he crashed into
her. Fingers closing around her arms, he looked down into her face, watched as a slow,
subtle flush crept over her cheeks. “Sorry,” he said and his voice came out low and
raw. Clearing his throat, he went to step back.

She reached out and rested her hands on his waist.

He stilled.

Barely even a foot separated them and then, not even that as she moved forward, pressing
her body to his.

“I’ve got to tell you the truth, Dean,” she said, her voice soft. “I don’t think I’m
into comfort sex or being seduced.”

His gut tightened. Confusion warred inside him. It didn’t help, either, just
hearing
her say the word
sex
. Seeing her mouth—that pretty mouth that just drove him crazy—and knowing he wasn’t
going to be …

She leaned into him, her hands sliding under the hem of his T-shirt, her fingers cool
against his skin as she rose up onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his. “If there’s
going to be a seduction, how about we seduce each other?”

Her mouth opened against his and he was still processing what she’d said even as he
hauled her up against him.

Spinning around, he boosted her up and set her on the island. She laughed against
his mouth and he tangled a fist in her hair, yanked her head back.

“Quiet,” he muttered. Then he took her mouth.

She groaned against his lips and opened for him. The raw, ragged edges of the day
melted away as her tongue came out and stroked against his own.

Heart pounding like he’d just run a marathon, he leaned in against her, felt the heat
of her through thin cotton pants. He reached between them and pressed the heel of
his palm against her. “Break for me,” he muttered against her lips. She was already
wet and he thought his brain was going to explode as a hard shudder rocked her body.

A sharp cry escaped her when he pulled back and caught the waistband of her pants
and yanked them and her panties down, stripping her from below the waist.

She sat half-naked on the island in under a minute. Her eyes, wide and dazed, lifted
to his. “Dean…”

He put his hands on the soft, silken skin of her inner thighs, watched her face flush
as he moved them higher and higher, closing in on the heated core of her cunt. “I
want to see you break for me,” he said again.

“I…” She licked her lips. “We’re supposed to be…”

The words faded away as he reached the apex of her thighs and used one thumb to part
her. The curls between her thighs were tight, shades darker than her hair, and already
wet. He licked his thumb and watched as her eyes went opaque. “Lie back.”

*   *   *

Jensen couldn’t breathe.

She was almost positive of it.

A sharp gasp tried to work its way out of her, but even as she thought she
might
be able to force that air out, Dean’s voice, that rich as chocolate voice, stroked
over her as he murmured, “Lie back.”

The strength seeped out of her and she sagged back onto her elbows, staring up at
him.

A smile crooked his lips as he bent over her, his dreadlocks falling forward. They
brushed over her, teasing her through her shirt as he rubbed his lips over hers. “I
want to eat you up,” he said.

Please do.

She would have said it if she’d had the air.

Thoughts about
them
seducing
each other
fled. He could seduce her all he wanted. She’d take her turn later.

His teeth nipped her lower lip, trailed down lower. Cool air kissed her flesh and
that sharp burst of air that had been lodged in her throat worked free as she realized
he was unbuttoning her shirt. His lips touched each inch of flesh he exposed and the
rough texture of his hair scraped over her skin, another teasing caress that sent
her shooting higher and higher.

As he reached her hip bone, she wilted completely and went limp on the island countertop.

Dean worked his hands under her hips, lifted her up.

And bliss exploded through her as he licked her clit.

Tangling her hands in his hair, she arched against him, working her hips against his
mouth, desperate that he might move before he did that again … and again … and again.

But he didn’t move.

At least, he didn’t move
away
.

He scraped his teeth lightly against her sensitive skin, flicked her with his tongue,
muttered against her.

Need clenched hot and painful through her and then he was gone.

“What … wait…”

“Not without me,” he said, hauling her off the island and into his arms.

Blearily, she stared at him, his eyes stark in his face, need stamped in every line.

The room blurred around them and then she was on the bed. He fought with her shirt,
then his. He moved again, out of her line of sight and she sat up, watched as he wrenched
open the drawer by his bed. “Like to be prepared, I see,” she said, her throat dry.

“Yeah, ever since you went and made me and my dick feel like we were teenagers again,”
he said, his voice just a little unsteady. He tossed a box of condoms onto the bed,
keeping one packet in his hand. “I can’t be around you without getting a fucking erection,
Jensen, and it’s only gotten worse since I slept with you.”

His hands cupped her face and she braced herself, her breath catching.

But there was no breath-stealing kiss.

It was gentle, sweet … and her heart ached when he lifted his head.

“You undo me,” he whispered. “You completely undo me.”

Swallowing, she closed a hand around his wrist, staring up into his eyes. “Dean.”
She didn’t know what to say to him. “I…”

He just shook his head and urged her onto her back. “Lie down for me. Let me love
you.”

Her heart all but ripped open for him.

*   *   *

Let me love you …

Fuck. He might as well just go to his knees and beg her to see what he felt.

But all she did was give him a tremulous smile, her eyes locked on his face.

He went to tear open the condom but she took it from him, pushing back up to deal
with it and his cock jumped at the feel of her fingers, slim and strong as she unrolled
it down over the swollen head, working it down his shaft.

Then he groaned as she reached down and cupped his balls.

“You’re a witch,” he muttered, tumbling her down onto her back and settling himself
between her thighs.

“I think you like it.”

“I love it.”
I love you
 … What would she say? Would she run?

Her eyes locked on his as he hooked his arms under hers, emotion pounding inside,
pulsing through him. He couldn’t hide it as he slowly slid inside her, the heat of
her pussy closing around him like a fist.

He should look away, tuck his head against her neck, something. Anything.

But her eyes held him captive, and he thought maybe, just maybe … everything
he
felt was written, echoed on her face, too.

Her body arched to meet his, a broken sigh coming from her while her heart slammed
against his own.

“Jensen…”

One hand curled around his shoulders, the other tangling in his dreads.

But her eyes remained locked on his.

And even as the climax rushed closer and closer, they didn’t look away.

It broke around them—broke through them.

The sound of his name on her lips had to be one of the sweetest damn things he’d ever
heard.

As he collapsed, his head between the slight curves of her breasts, the words he had
to say to her tried to break free.

He kept them locked inside.

For now.

I love you …

Chapter Eight

“If nobody is dead or in dire straits, I’m going to kill you, brother.”

Jensen was just barely roused enough to make sense of those words.

With a smile on her face, she rolled around in the huge lake of a bed and looked over
at Dean.

In the dim light that filtered through the curtains, he looked like some sort of fantasy
made real. The muscles of his chest and belly were perfectly delineated without him
looking like he worshipped at the altar of the gym lords and she wanted to spend hours
learning that amazing body. He’d pulled his dreads back into a tail before they fell
into bed and she wanted to pull the band out of his hair, fill her hands with it,
and bite his mouth and just enjoy him.

He flicked a look at her, then.

The bottom of her stomach fell out.

Slowly, he sat up.

When he held out a hand, without thinking twice, she put her hand in his.

“You sure, Ty?” He paused and then sighed. “Yeah. Yeah. You can come on over. No.
No … she’s ah … well. She’ll be here.”

He hung up then and looked over at her.

“Ty?”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed the back of his neck.

Under the warm, dark brown of his skin, the muscles of his back flexed. Tension all
but crawled from him.

“Was that your brother?” she asked softly.

He nodded and rubbed his hands over his face. Then he slowly lifted his head. “Ty …
Tyrese.”

“He’s the doctor, right? Is everything okay?”

*   *   *

The doctor.

Rising from the bed, Dean grabbed a pair of workout pants from the footboard and dragged
them up over his naked hips before he looked at her.

“Ty is a doctor, but he…” Dean paused and looked over at Jensen. She sat in the middle
of his bed, the sheets pooled around her, faint light coming in to dance across her
elegant, sleek body. There were marks on her, he thought. Where he’d gripped her hips
and one where he’d pressed his mouth to her right breast and suckled as she arched
against him and cried out. He had scratches up and down his arms and if he was awake
right now, it ought to be because he was ready to roll back into her arms and make
love to her again.

Instead, he was getting ready to break her.

“Tyrese is a forensic pathologist, baby,” he said gently.

Her mouth went tight.

Just like that, she went from woman to cop.

Eyes flat, face unreadable.

She said nothing as she climbed from the bed.

He grabbed a shirt from his closet and held it out to her. She pushed her arms into
it, her fingers moving down the buttons, smooth and efficient. “Who was he calling
about?”

He didn’t answer until she turned her head and met his gaze in the darkened light
of the room.

A knot settled in his throat and he crossed the floor to stand in front of her. Reaching
up, he cupped her cheek in his hand, stroked his thumb across her lip.

“I asked him to look at the photos.”

She didn’t ask which ones.

“He knows something,” she said, her voice low.

“He didn’t say. But…” Dean moved his shoulders. “Ty is good at what he does.”

Good didn’t even touch on it. Dean was smart—had graduated at the top of his class,
scholarships, all that jazz.

Ty was something else, though. He’d started college at fifteen, had graduated from
medical school at twenty-four. To their parents’ dismay, instead of going into traditional
medicine, though, Ty had a head, and a passion, for forensics. It had taken a while
for him to settle, but he was damn good at his job.

And if he had a feeling about the pictures Dean had sent him …

Jensen continued to watch him, her green-gold eyes carefully blank.

“Why did you send him the photos?”

“Because you’ve waited long enough. I made copies. Did it a few days ago.” He wasn’t
going to apologize. The hell if he lied. “If we wait for the state lab to work around
to this, you know you’re looking at months. Even with the evidence of trauma…”
Carefully, tread carefully … this isn’t just a case.
“You know how backlogged they are. If we had our own team here, we could move forward
faster, but we don’t. I had a connection, so I used it.”

“Whatever he has, it may not be admissible.”

Dean smoothed his hand down her neck and gently, fearing she’d pull away, he eased
her up against his body. “I wasn’t trying to build a case. I was asking for you.”

She was wrong, though.

Ty had worked as a consultant more than once.

If he had put something together, if there was evidence that Dean could use, he’d
damn well use it.

*   *   *

Her jeans were a damp tangle still and she shivered just thinking about pulling them
on.

But as she went to pick them up, Dean pushed a pair of sweats into her hands. “Here,”
he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck before moving around her into the kitchen.
“You don’t want to wear wet clothes, do you?”