Flirtation (6 page)

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Authors: Samantha Hunter

BOOK: Flirtation
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The golden lining complemented her skin tone
and hair, making the dress elegantly sexual by creating the illusion of the black French lace draping over bare skin. She knew she had to wear this dress for EJ. Maybe it was the accumulation of some good karma that she’d found it, and that Phoebe was willing to break the rules for her a little bit, but she knew this was the perfect dress.

“Come out—I want to see. Does it fit?”

Charlotte couldn’t contain her smile when she walked out through the creaky louvered door, delighting in Phoebe’s slack-jawed reaction when she saw her.

“Oh, my God you’re gorgeous! That dress was made for you.” Her eyes widened and in her excitement, she completely ignored another customer who was trying to get her attention. “Oh! Wait! I have the perfect shoes!”

Charlotte smiled weakly at the ignored woman, shrugging. The older, black woman shook her head, looking after Phoebe, but then turned her assessing gaze back to Charlotte.

“You sure can wear that dress, girlfriend. My days of ever fitting in something like that are long gone, but you want to bring your man to his knees, that dress’ll do it.”

Charlotte remained speechless for a second, picturing EJ on his knees, then collapsed in giggles, laughing joyfully with the woman, who waited as Phoebe returned with several pairs of shoes. Both women passed opinions on which ones worked for her.

After modeling several pair, they all decided on a pair of simple but deadly black pumps, and Charlotte hoped she’d have time to stop at the store and find a black velvet ribbon for her hair. She brought her purchases to the counter, suddenly apprehensive again.

“You’re sure you want to do this? I want to pay for the shoes.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes in the way only hip, twentysomething women can and waved away Charlotte’s apprehension. “I want you to wear this dress tonight—and share all the details with me tomorrow.”

“Deal. And not only will I give you a donation tomorrow, but would you like a tarot card reading as well? I read cards professionally.”

“Get out! That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted a tarot reading. Can you do it when you come back?”

“Absolutely—but it might be later in the morning, if that’s okay? I have dog-walking appointments in the morning.”

“No problem. I’m here all day, and Sharon’s gone for two more days. And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She shouldn’t be trying to make more of a profit off this dress as it is.”

“Well, she probably is just trying to do what’s best for the shop.”

Phoebe rang up the shoes, and took Charlotte’s money. “I suppose. But still, the woman who gave it to us would love that you are wearing it tonight, I just
know it. She really wanted someone to get to enjoy the dress.”

Charlotte smiled, liking that the previous owner of the beautiful dress was such a generous person.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Phoebe. And I promise to be careful with the ketchup.”

 

EJ
LOOKED AT HIS WATCH
, wondering if he was being stood up. Perusing the small, elegant dining room, he wondered if he’d pushed too hard, come on too strong and frightened Charlotte away. He never really thought about it, but as his eyes traveled over the snow-white tablecloths, the glistening flatware, perfect china plates and bunches of perfect pink roses on every table, he could imagine how such an atmosphere could be intimidating to someone who wasn’t used to it.

Or had Charlotte been spooked for another reason? Was she worried he was getting too close to figuring out her secret?

It hadn’t been difficult getting a table—his mother was a regular diner here, and the Beaumont name carried some weight—but he’d been sitting alone for twenty minutes now. He’d give it ten more minutes before—

He stopped thinking. He stopped breathing altogether when she was escorted into the room by the maitre d’.

Stunning. Sexy. Breathtaking. Holy shit, he was in trouble.

She smiled tentatively, walking slowly to the table, a vision in black lace and satin, her lovely curls tied up in a softly flowing black ribbon. She still wore no makeup, no jewelry, though her cheeks burst with color as his gaze held hers, and her lips…her lips were as luscious and tempting as ever. He found himself licking his own, taking a deep breath and standing to take her hand as she approached the table. Even if she was a suspect, she was a beautiful woman, and he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—ignore his response to her. At least for the moment.

“Charlotte.” He let his eyes travel the entire length of her, taking in every inch of the gorgeous dress until she warmed beneath his gaze, the buds of her breasts blossoming under the fabric that caressed them.

“You are stunning. That dress is exquisite.” And if he wasn’t mistaken, a very expensive designer garment. He didn’t know a lot about specific designers, but he’d grown up with two women in the house, and he knew quality when he saw it.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I’m late. My taxi was caught in traffic.”

EJ frowned. “I should have picked you up. I apologize.”

“No, this is fine. I had such a busy day, is all.” She looked around, taking in her surroundings as he pulled out her chair and she sat. “This place is…incredible. The view alone is worth paying for.”

As she turned to look out the wall of clear glass overlooking the Bay and the twinkling lights of the bridge, he leaned in, inhaling her natural feminine scent and placed a light kiss on her neck. He was close enough to feel her breath catch, and to see her full breasts rise beneath the low neckline of the gown.

It’d been many decades since he’d caught himself looking down a woman’s dress—the last time was at a cousin’s wedding, and he’d been fourteen and perpetually horny, and lucky enough to have sat next to a particularly well-endowed bridesmaid. He didn’t feel so differently now, really, as he tried to drag his eyes away. Returning to his own chair, he poured them both champagne, and smiled, lifting his glass.

“To unexpected pleasures, made sweeter by their surprise.”

She lifted her glass and touched it lightly to his, sipping the champagne with such savoring grace that he almost forgot to take a drink himself, content just to watch her.

What the heck was into him? He loved women—and he’d
loved
women—but it was almost like he was under a spell with Charlotte. Usually he was calm and collected, charming and discreet. But at the moment it was all he could do to breathe normally and not drag her off and see what was underneath that dress.

Getting his thoughts under control, he set his glass down without drinking any more, and smiled.

“So I want to know more about you, Charlotte.”

“There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that. But with your readings and your visit to my home, I feel at a disadvantage—you know a lot about me, and I know next to nothing about you.”

Lies, of course. He knew most of the surface details of her life, but he found himself curious about how much she would share, and what else might be underneath the surface.

Charlotte looked relieved when a waiter appeared. In spite of her independent, “I’ll drive myself” approach to coming to the restaurant, she seemed more than happy to hand over the responsibility of ordering their food to him. Not that he minded, and ordered an extravagant, romantic meal.

“I hope you don’t mind ordering—not having been here before, I didn’t know what would be best.”

“No problem at all. It’s a gentleman’s duty.” He smiled and watched her eyes light up. She had a compelling natural beauty, and he was glad to be spending this time with her, whether it was professional of him to enjoy it so much or not.

“This is like a fairy tale. I feel like if I blink, it will all go away.”

EJ was charmed in spite of himself, and he reached over the small table, capturing her hand in his.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. You’ll love the food—it’s some of the best in the region.”

“I don’t usually eat meats or refined sugars, but tonight I am going to love whatever they serve, I just know it.”

EJ didn’t know about her eating habits—case files only went so far—but he was glad he’d ordered mostly seafood and pasta dishes, with beautiful salads. That was his preference as well.

“Are you a vegan?”

She laughed, and it was a great laugh. “Oh, no way. I’m not that disciplined. I love food, but I just try to stay away from red meats and sugars, though I do have a chocolate habit I can’t quite conquer. I never had too much of it as a kid, and I have a hard time not overindulging now.”

“Chocolate should be a basic food group. Did your family not believe in eating many sweets?”

“I didn’t know my real family. My brother and I were given up, and grew up in group and foster homes, separately. Sometimes I got a birthday cake, but I think I got so tired of the salty processed foods that were standard fare at the group homes that once I was out on my own, I decided never to eat any of that again.”

“But you still have a sweet tooth?”

“You bet. When I was free to buy my own food, and I discovered Häagen-Dazs, and good, dark chocolate, I thought I’d gone to heaven. I have to hold myself back, or I wouldn’t fit through a doorway.”

EJ regarded her curves appreciatively. “I think you’re perfect. Bony is not sexy, in spite of what the media says.”

She blushed, fidgeting awkwardly with her utensils, and didn’t respond.

“So you mentioned a brother—a twin?”

“Oh, no. He’s younger, but was given up to a different family before I even knew about him.”

Charlotte took off telling him about her search for her brother. After she had discovered his existence while working part-time in one of the group-home offices, she’d pursued his whereabouts with dogged determination, from the sounds of it. She spoke matter-of-factly, as if anyone would—or could—have done what she did, but EJ knew differently. She’d had to use considerable resources of her own, not to mention the sheer will to persevere and locate a missing family member. He couldn’t help but be impressed.

Their food arrived while she spoke, and the conversation continued pleasantly until they were ready for dessert. EJ had enjoyed the dinner immensely—Charlotte was a fascinating companion, but unfortunately she hadn’t divulged any information that would make him suspect her more strongly. Unless she’d been running rackets to fund her family searches, but somehow he doubted it.

He was finding it more and more difficult to suspect her of anything, and wasn’t sure how to proceed.
Or was he just rationalizing because she turned him on and he wanted to follow through on his desires with a clear conscience?

And he’d be less than honest with himself if he didn’t admit that he just wanted to get Charlotte alone. She was a suspect, and he was a cop—but he was also a man. A very, very tempted man.

“Do you want dessert?”

She looked at him, and he saw the muted desire in her gaze, but it wasn’t for dessert. Oh, man.

“Actually, I’m stuffed. This was wonderful, though I think the champagne went to my head a little.”

“All part of my evil plan to get you to let me kiss you again.”

The words popped out, but they were the truth. Obviously, his desires were winning out over his rational thinking.

“I don’t think you needed the champagne for that, EJ.”

He stood, pulling her up to stand closely in front of him, staring down into her liquid brown eyes. “Will you let me take you home?”

She just nodded, promises and hopes shining in her eyes as she looked up at him, and he felt as close to being a cad as he ever had in his life.

He paid the bill and escorted her from the restaurant. She was smiling so much by the time they hit the door he had to smile back.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing. I wasn’t smiling because I thought something was funny.”

“Then what?”

They walked out the massive door and EJ signaled the valet to get his car. He stood close to Charlotte, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You can tell me. Did I walk away with my napkin stuck to my shoe or spinach in my teeth?”

She laughed again, and held him with a look so potent he couldn’t break it.

“No, it was just, well…this has been perfect. More than perfect. Dressing up, coming to a place like this, then walking out with my arm through yours, with everyone seeing us…it was…fun. Magical. I never experienced anything like that.”

She’d never felt what it was like to dress up and go out, to have a man escort her from a restaurant? EJ would have responded, but he was stunned silent. She shook her head, looking down.

“I know it’s stupid, but—”

He tipped her face up, staring into her eyes, forgetting for the moment what the reality between them was.

“No, not stupid. Not stupid at all. I’m…honored to be your date tonight, Charlotte.”

“EJ, I…”

They were interrupted when his car arrived, a shining black BMW that made Charlotte’s eyes widen into great pools. She didn’t bother hiding that
she was impressed. The valet opened the door, and EJ helped her into the passenger’s seat. He leaned down to pull the seat belt over her, an excuse to get closer and brush her lips with a slight kiss.

“You amaze me, Charlotte. I’ve loved talking with you and getting to know you. But will you forgive me, darlin’, for saying that all I can think about right now is getting you alone and out of that amazing dress?”

5

C
HARLOTTE SANK INTO THE
supple, deep leather of the form-fitting seat as the BMW sped quickly down the highway, guided by EJ’s sure hand. The closeness of his body next to hers when he’d buckled her seat belt, the slight kiss he’d offered, and that whopper of a question he’d popped right before closing the door on her side had her mind in a whirl.

The girl who didn’t make a habit of sleeping around was thinking she wouldn’t mind letting him get her out of her dress. She wondered if he’d feel the same way when he saw where she lived, when he had to park his fancy car in the parking lot next to the old motel across from her apartment complex.

No, she reprimanded herself—EJ wasn’t like that. He might be wealthy, but he wasn’t a snob. He was spiritual, sensual and kind—he wouldn’t care about things like that.

Would he? Some rich guys liked to visit the low-end side of town and experience things on the other side of the tracks. Was she being naive?

She shook her head, trying to will away the doubt
ful thoughts. They emerged out of the well of insecurities she still dealt with when confronted with stressful situations, but she knew better, and closed her eyes, concentrating on the positive. She didn’t want to let anything ruin this evening. Looking out the window, she mentally counted the mile markers as they passed, lulling herself back into a comfortable frame of mind. She didn’t realize she’d been counting aloud.

“Are you feeling okay? Is everything all right?”

She snapped around to face him, realizing EJ must have been observing her silent struggle with herself, and smiled wanly.

“I’m fine, sorry. Just internal conversations that sometimes, well…”

“Show up on the outside?”

“Yeah.”

“I know what you mean—when my sister gets really stressed, or is under a lot of pressure, she talks to herself in this kind of high-speed mumble that she doesn’t even realize she’s doing. She calls it ‘leaking.’ Like a pressure cooker letting off steam.” He grinned, keeping his eyes on the road.

“That’s a really good description. It does feel like that.”

“It sounded like you were counting?”

“Yeah, I do that sometimes.” She didn’t really want to get into her little habit, and she hoped he picked up on the vibe.

“So here we are, after a lovely meal and good company—speaking for myself, anyway.” He flashed a charming smile and then continued. “And why would you be feeling stressed?”

She shrugged, and fiddled with some of the lace on the dress, but stopped before she pulled a thread, keeping in mind she had to return it to the shop in the morning. Suddenly she felt like she was in danger of turning into a pumpkin.

“I’m just not used to this.”

“To what?”

“You know. This. Fancy dresses, fancy restaurants.” She heaved a heavy breath, and laughed lightly. “Fancy dates.”

She barely noticed when he pulled into a parking lot that definitely wasn’t her apartment. In fact, she realized after a moment that they were down by the Elizabeth River, by the naval shipyards in Portsmouth. She looked around, her voice tentative.

“Where are we?”

“I want to show you something.”

He drove through narrow lanes, easily passing through the few checkpoints where the uniformed men at the window seemed to know him, but checked his ID anyway before waving him through. Charlotte didn’t feel so much fearful as confused. Those emotions turned into sheer awe as he maneuvered down through narrow roads and alleys, pulling up near two piers that ran along the side of a huge ship.
She had to scrunch down and look up through the window to see the top of it.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“She’s one of ours.”

Charlotte looked at him quizzically in the small confines of the car, and he elaborated with a proud smile.

“We built that. My father’s company.”

“Really? That’s incredible. I’d never seen a real Navy ship before I lived here. I watch them go in and out of the Bay, but I never really caught which one is which. It’s smaller than the
Wisconsin
, the one down on the waterfront—what kind is this?”

“The
Wisconsin
is a battleship. This is a destroyer, Burke class. It’s smaller, but faster, and generally is used for submarine warfare and battleship defense. Come out and get a better look.”

They got out of the car, and the cool breeze off the water chilled her skin, but she barely noticed, she was so busy studying the ship.

“It’s so intimidating. Powerful. I always wondered why everyone refers to ships as feminine when they are so obviously male. I mean, really, look at all the parts poking out—it’s almost embarrassingly phallic.”

EJ laughed, delighted by the observation, and tried to elaborate.

“There are a lot of ideas why ships are referred to as female. Some say it’s because they’re temperamental and not every man can handle one right,” he
teased, grinning when she turned her head and gazed at him through narrowed eyes. “Then there is the more logical view that in the Romance languages, the word for ship is always in the feminine. As such, Mediterranean sailors always referred to their ship as she. It just became habit after that. And then there’s the idea that early seafarers spoke of their ships in the feminine gender for the close dependence they had on their ships for life and sustenance, like the women who cared for them back home.”

Charlotte smiled. “I like the last one.”

“I thought so. But I have another idea of my own.”

He moved in closer, trapping her body with his, sliding his hands around her middle and she could feel the heat emanating from him.

“What’s that?” She shivered, but not from the cold. He moved his fingers lightly along her rib cage, and even though it was through the material of her gown, the touch scorched her.

“I always think of ships and women having beautiful curves. These big ships have been loaded all to hell on the outside, but if you see them as they’re being built, you can still see the grace in them, the delicate lines—” he lifted one hand and traced his forefingers along her jaw “—the strong spine…” His hand slipped around back and drew a line from her neck to her backside, where he gently cupped a hand over the curve of her hip as he lowered his lips to hers. She sighed against him, sinking into the kiss, completely seduced.

EJ didn’t know why he’d brought her here. He’d never had the urge to show any other woman the ships they built, or anything else so personal. When they’d left the restaurant, he’d intended on just bringing her home and wheedling a way to get into her apartment to see what he could see. But in the battle of cop versus man, man was happily winning as he explored her mouth slowly, taking what she offered as she shuffled a little closer and planted her hands on his shoulders to hold on as the kiss intensified. God, she was sweet.

He was sure he was under some kind of spell, unable to think clearly when she was around, unable to resist being close to her. Working on this case when he was so sexually charged was like going to the grocery store hungry, never a good idea. And he was starving, though food was the furthest thing from his mind. His body quaked, hardening against her. He could barely restrain the urge to take her hard and fast, regardless of where they were, or who might come along.

But he kept the hunger somewhat leashed, and as she moaned against his mouth he slid a hand between them to caress her full breast through the silk, groaning back in appreciation as he felt her nipple harden against his palm. He found the nub through the material and pinched lightly, then again, and Charlotte kissed him more voraciously, begging with her luscious body for more.

He was happy to oblige, touching her everywhere as their mouths refused to part, tongues tangling as they ate each other’s kisses and let hands roam everywhere. When she threaded her hands up into his hair and gently pulled his head down a little closer to hers, she leaned in and whispered in his ear, and he felt his cock throb with urgency as her naughty words registered in his brain. Her sultry demands muted the objections, the reminders that he should stop. His body was on overload, and she was too much temptation. He wanted her too much, and the consequences be damned.

Slipping his arm around her and casting a look from side to side to make sure they were alone, he walked with her toward the car, backing up against it, capturing her chin in his fingers, tilting her face toward his.

“Tell me again. Tell me what you want.”

His demand was harsh, but she just smiled softly, her cheeks flushed, her breathing quick and light as she held his gaze, but her voice was sure and steady. And sexy as hell.

“I want to get in the back of this gorgeous car and push this dress up so I can feel your hands on me everywhere…and not just through the material.”

EJ’s breath hitched and his heart pounded as he buried his face in her neck. “More…”

She cried out in desire when he nipped her, and continued, her voice a mere whisper, but the words roared through him.

“I want to stroke your cock and feel it against my skin. I can feel how hard you are, but I want to make you even harder. I want to taste you and bring you to the edge, and then I want to sink down on top of you, taking you inside so deeply you are buried to the hilt, riding you until I come with your tongue in my mouth, so I can scream my pleasure into your soul and feel you come deep inside of me…”

For a woman who said she wasn’t very sexually experienced, she sure talked a good game. Growling, EJ pulled her to him roughly, opening the door and thanking the fates he had darkened windows. No sooner were they inside than he was obeying her commands, desperately pushing the silk and lace up as far as he could and letting her pull it the rest of the way over her head.

She was naked except for a small swatch of black silk over her pelvis, and he slipped his hand underneath the material and pulled, glorying in the tearing sound, bending down as well as he could in the confines of the car and trailing kisses up her smooth thighs and over her stomach, touching her everywhere he could reach.

“EJ, I’m so wet already…so hot for you…it’s been so long…I need you to make me come.”

Her frank talk drove him on in a frenzy and he slid his fingers between her legs, finding out she told the truth. She was hot and slick, so much so he groaned, feeling a little light-headed as he pushed her legs apart and dipped in for a taste.

She writhed beneath him, and he didn’t really think about it, sacrificing technique to desperation, tonguing her relentlessly until she bucked beneath him, her hands digging into his hair. Her desperation fueled his, and he couldn’t wait anymore, loosening his belt and shoving his pants down, releasing himself, lifting over her, staring down into her passion-soaked eyes. She was still gasping from her orgasm, but managed to remember what he’d forgotten entirely for the first time ever in his life.

“EJ…protection?”

Damn—how could he have forgotten that? Lunging forward over the seat, he opened the glove compartment and felt around in the dark for the small packages he knew he had stashed there. Not that he made a habit of having sex in his car—in fact, it had been near fifteen years since he’d been in this particular situation—but he wasn’t worrying about it now. Not when he had this amazing woman hot, ready and naked, sprawled over his backseat.

As he ripped the package, she sat up, taking it from his slightly trembling fingers. He almost objected, but she planted a hand on his chest, and pushed him back into the deep, soft seat.

“Let me.”

She obviously wasn’t an expert, which he was glad to see as she placed the condom over him carefully with two hands—but not before she dipped her head down and sucked the head of his erection softly
until he ground out a plea for her to stop. He was riding on a fine edge of wanting her. One more of her kisses would end it for both of them.

Understanding, she sheathed him a little clumsily and then rose up and over, sinking down over him slowly, accommodating his length in stages, causing him to clench his fists to control himself; she was so tight he almost burst. But even though he was hungry for release, he was more hungry for her, watching her pleasure, and he didn’t want it to end too soon.

“Oh, Charlotte, you are incredible. You are so hot…so damned tight…”

She chuckled softly and leaned forward to suck his lower lip as he filled his hands with her breasts, moaning as she started to glide over him, taking him fully in one long stroke, then withdrawing again until he wanted to scream for her to return.

She buried her face in his neck, making the softest, sexiest noises he’d ever heard a woman make, and he moved his hands down to sink his fingers into the generous flesh of her ass, moving her faster over him, controlling the action until his release couldn’t be held back and he yelled out his pleasure, lifting up and burying himself deeper as he let go and rode it out, barely aware of her own cries of pleasure, the clenching of her inner muscles milking him until he was limp all over, unable to talk, just letting the pleasure reverberate through his body.

They clung together, melded by sweat and
sticky sex, unable to separate as they rested. EJ broke the silence.

“That was incredible. You are incredible. But I do wish I’d gotten you home first—I feel like a horny teenager doing it in the backseat.”

Charlotte pulled back, the ribbon gone from her hair, which flowed wildly around her flushed face, her chocolate-brown eyes shining, pink lips bruised to fuchsia from his kisses.

“I’ve never been made love to by a handsome man in the backseat of a beautiful car, so I’m not complaining.”

He pulled her head down, kissed her, feeling doubts starting to crowd forward and pushed them back away.

“You said it had been a long time for you—do you mind if I ask how long?”

Her brow furrowed, but he realized she was just thinking about his question.

“Seven years.”

EJ froze. Seven years? Charlotte had been without sex for seven years?

“Why so long?” He managed the question just before his silence turned awkward. She fell back on her calves, still straddled over him, obviously not in the least bit self-conscious.

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