Stolen Moments (22 page)

“I love you, Rêve,” I whispered into her hair as the morning light started to move slowly into the room. Then I began to stroke Rêve gently, waiting for her desire to reawaken as mine already had.

Even in the twilight of her sleep, Rêve responded to my touch. She stretched against me and slipped her hands between my legs as she began to wake. “I heard that,” she mumbled sleepily as she nuzzled my breast.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were asleep.” I was suddenly shy and unsure.

She sat up, her legs stretched out in front of her, and looked down at me. “Logan?”

“What?”

“Come here.”

“Come where?”

“Here,” she said as she pulled me to a sitting position and motioned across her lap.

I straddled her, sliding close enough for our pubic bones to touch, and put my arms around her neck. She nibbled on my upper lip and I was surprised when I felt sparks of electricity between my legs each time she did that. I sucked on her lower lip and she pressed harder against me. I started to grind my pelvis against her as our kisses deepened, but she put her hands on my hips and stopped my movements.

“Just the kiss, Logan. Feel it.”

And I did feel it. I felt her breath moving into me, stimulating the nerve endings from my mouth to my clitoris. I felt myself becoming engorged and wet again. I began to breathe in sync with her. I let her lead me deeper and deeper into ecstasy until we both came with achingly beautiful orgasms born of a lover’s kiss in the early morning hours of an Appalachian dawn.

Detective Dana Silvester tentatively twisted the doorknob
and sighed under her breath as the door opened. “Careless,” she muttered and drew her gun before taking another step. Silently, she entered the house. As a precaution, she flipped the lock on the door so that whoever had gotten in would not be getting out so easily. She listened carefully, trying to pinpoint where the intruder was in the house. She crept along the wall toward the living room, where she
could hear muffled noises. Her ears pricked at the sound of a clock’s chime being played. Its merry tune sounded loud in the otherwise
silent home. The living-room door was ajar and Dana cautiously stuck her head through it, searching for the figure she knew to be inside. There she was, dressed in a black bodysuit that clung to every curve
of her slender form, standing at the mantelpiece, the clock chiming in her hands as she placed it in its rightful place. Dana’s eyes swept from the jet-black hair down to the shoes designed for speed rather
than fashion. Gun drawn and trained on the intruder, she entered the room.

“You left the door unlocked,” Dana said softly.

“That wasn’t very smart of me, now, was it?” The woman started but didn’t turn around, reaching out instead to silence the chimes. “After all, it just invites anyone in here to follow me.”

“You just can’t keep your fingers off the timepieces, can you?” Dana said, stepping farther into the room and trying not to gasp when the woman turned around and fixed her with beautiful blue eyes.

“I admire things of beauty and precision, is that a crime?”

“Stealing them is,” Dana countered.

The woman spread her hands out before her. “I haven’t stolen anything yet. I was just admiring this one’s charms.” She grinned at Dana. “You can put your gun down, Detective. You know I’m never armed.”

“I feel like every call-out I get, it’s to find you taking clocks. I always arrive after the fact. Tonight, though…” Dana paused. “Tonight you’re waiting for me. I’m curious as to why.”

“I wanted to see the intrepid detective who keeps chasing after me. I’ve been waiting for the right time to introduce myself. I felt tonight was the night.”

“Who are you?” Dana lowered her weapon and holstered it, never taking her eyes off the striking woman before her.

“You can call me Carrie.” The woman moved toward Dana with the grace of a cat. She reached out to touch the detective’s hair. “I wondered what your hair would feel like. It’s so very blond. You cut it short; it’s like fine bristles. Fascinating.” She continued to run her fingers like a caress over Dana’s hair.

Dana had to resist the urge to close her eyes against the seductive touch. She grabbed Carrie’s hand. “You’re awfully cool for someone caught in the act of stealing.”

Carrie shrugged. “But I haven’t taken anything. The clock is on the mantelpiece.” She gestured over her shoulder nonchalantly. “Tell me, Dana, are you always this dedicated to getting your woman?”

Dana frowned. “How do you know my name?”

Carrie laughed sweetly. “I made it my business to find out who was on my trail. I liked what I saw, but you’re even more beautiful close up.”

Dana swallowed hard against the lump that appeared in her throat. “I need to arrest you,” she said finally, trying to break the staring match that seemed to have started between them.

Carrie reached out to trace the wrinkles firmly etched on Dana’s forehead. “Tell me, Detective, do you ever smile? Does anything ever make you laugh and chase these lines away? Or do they only go in the throes of passion?”

Dana stared at her. “I smile,” she replied, watching as a look flirted its way across Carrie’s face at the blush that obviously had covered Dana’s.

Carrie pulled her hand from Dana’s grasp. “I could make these nasty lines go away for a moment.” She gently rubbed her fingertips over Dana’s brow.

“Could you now?” Dana asked, feeling the warmth from Carrie’s touch easing away the tension.

“I could make you feel so good,” Carrie all but purred.

“I’m on duty,” Dana muttered, trying hard to keep her feet firmly fixed in reality.

“Don’t all you officer types get doughnut breaks?” Carrie teased, brushing her fingers through the short hairs on Dana’s neck.

“I have to report in, tell them there was something suspicious going on in this house.”

“There’s nothing suspicious going on here. My motives are very clear where you’re concerned, Dana!” She pressed close to Dana’s chest, snuggling into her. “Hmm, you’re shorter than I am, but more solid. I like that!” She pressed in closer, her hands still in Dana’s hair. She gently tilted Dana’s head up a fraction. “You have the right to remain silent.”

With that, Carrie pressed her lips to Dana’s. She kissed her gently, softly. Only when Dana let out a soft moan did she turn up the heat. Kisses rained over Dana’s cheeks, then over the lines on her brow with such tenderness that Dana felt her knees begin to buckle.

Carrie nibbled on Dana’s earlobe. “Anything you say will be used against you.”

“Like what?” Dana asked, lost in the feel of Carrie in her arms.

“Like how much you could love me,” Carrie replied.

“I hardly know you,” Dana retorted, trying to move her head back to reach Carrie’s questing mouth.

“Oh, you know me. You’ve been following me for months now, and I’ve been watching you. I know all about you, Dana. I want to know more. I want to show you how easy you are to fall in love with.”

Dana pulled back from Carrie’s hold. “If you truly have been finding out about me, then you know I have a lousy track record with women!”

Carrie smiled widely. “That’s because none of them are adventurous enough for you. You crave excitement, a touch of danger; you yearn for the unexpected. I am all those things in one.” Carrie pulled Dana toward her. “I’m going to steal your heart.”

Dana groaned. “You’re too much of a complication that I just don’t need right now.”

“I am exactly what you need right now,” Carrie countered and ran her hands up Dana’s front to push aside her jacket and reach for her breasts. She began to chafe the nipples that responded even through the material of Dana’s shirt and bra.

Dana’s hips bucked when Carrie deftly unfastened her trousers and tugged them down enough to reach under the boxer shorts to rest against Dana’s soft fur.

“What I have in mind for you is surely illegal! Would you arrest me for breaking and entering?” Carrie rubbed her fingers across Dana’s sex.

“You won’t break anything, you have very delicate hands,” Dana replied, her hand moving to push Carrie’s where she needed her the most. “I’ve witnessed that in the scenes you leave behind.”

Carrie fondled the soft folds beneath her fingers. “You’re very wet,” she moaned, pulling her hand free to suck at the juices coating her fingers.

Dana let out a groan at the loss. “You made me that way,” she said, watching the sensual display before her.

“So it’s all my fault, eh?” Carrie teased, slipping her hand back in and swiftly entering Dana’s waiting flesh.

Dana moaned aloud and then felt the cushions of the settee behind her as she was pushed down onto its edge. The movement drove Carrie’s fingers more tightly inside her and Dana closed her eyes at the exquisite feeling of fullness. “I’ll take some of the blame,” she gasped as Carrie’s fingers pulled out once more and teased at her entrance.

“Oh, you’re guilty all right.” Carrie leaned up to kiss waiting lips once again. “I’ve spent my time watching you, waiting for you, stealing clocks to get your attention—to draw you after me, bring you to me.”

“Couldn’t you have just asked me for a date?” Dana asked, her whole body quivering under Carrie’s masterful touch.

“I wouldn’t have caught your attention as surely.” She ran her tongue over Dana’s open mouth, licking the shape of Dana’s lips. While teasing her with her tongue she entered Dana once more and allowed the welcoming rush of moisture to guide her in deeper. Dana opened up further inside and Carrie took advantage by adding another finger. Carrie’s thumb rubbed on Dana’s hardened clit, and Dana’s rocking quickened, her breath ragged and panting. She felt Carrie press on the sweet spot inside and she cried out Carrie’s name as she was rocked into an intense orgasm. For a long moment after, all Dana could do was try to catch her breath and regain her sight from all the lights she could still see flashing.

“How am I supposed to take you in now, after that?” she grumbled, watching as Carrie removed her fingers.

Carrie ran her thumb over the sticky remnants that coated her digits. “I’d say I have all the evidence against you, Dana, right here in my hand!”

Dana tried to regulate her breathing and ignore the fact she was sitting with her trousers around her knees in front of a known cat burglar.

“You could just let me go.” Carrie reached into her tight jacket and pulled out a pair of black gloves and a handkerchief. She wiped off the excesses that were clinging damply to her hand, then she put on her gloves.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“I didn’t take anything—nothing that wasn’t freely given, anyway.” Carrie smirked at Dana’s blushing features. She smoothly got to her feet as Dana scrambled to get up and pull her trousers back on.

“You’re still the main suspect in a series of robberies,” Dana said, trying hard to be professional when all she wanted was to peel down the zip of the tight jacket that hid Carrie’s body from her view.

Carrie saw where the detective’s eyes rested, and smiled. “I think we need to talk about this some more, say, maybe…when you’re off duty?”

“I’m off duty in an hour.”

“Then come see me and we’ll discuss my life of crime versus being the girlfriend of a respected detective.”

Dana’s eyes lit up suspiciously. “You’d give up stealing?”

“You’d have to make it worth my while,” Carrie replied sensuously. “There’s quite a thrill in being chased across the town by a young blond officer of the law!”

“I’ll put some thought into it,” Dana promised. “Where can I find you?”

Carrie unzipped her jacket and revealed a tantalising glimpse of her chest to a dazed Dana. She drew out a white card. “Here, come visit me when you’ve hung up your handcuffs for the evening.” She paused, then gave Dana a lecherous smile. “Or you could just bring them along with you.”

Dana finally chuckled.

“Ah, so you can smile!” Carrie looked enchanted. “But I have to say I could become addicted to the sight of you coming in my hand.”

Dana gulped at the fire in those blue eyes. She accepted the card and read it. “You live above a clock repair shop?” she asked in surprise.

“How else do you think I knew which timepieces are housed where?”

“You’ll have to return those you have ‘borrowed,’” Dana said seriously.

“Sure.” Carrie headed toward the window and gently pried the frame open. “Maybe you can follow me from house to house while I return them all to their rightful owners. After all, that’s what I was doing tonight.”

Dana stared at the clock on the mantelpiece. “You were bringing it back?”

“You never caught me stealing. How ironic you finally catch me when I’m returning things!” Carrie sat on the window ledge, her long legs dangling out through the opening. “Catch you later!” She waved and leapt from the ledge.

By the time Dana got to the window, the enigmatic young woman was nowhere in sight.

“Too late,” Dana said softly into the night air. “I think I’m already caught!”

I see her almost every day on the Metro. I’m uncertain as to where she gets on in the morning, but she gets off at the Smithsonian stop. I imagine that she is an archaeologist, working on some obscure, extinct species in a back room that even the Smithsonian, with its massive collections, has forgotten. During sabbatical, I envision her traipsing about some tropical rain forest, wearing tight khaki shorts and a pith helmet. Her blouse would be open to the heat with the sleeves rolled up in earnest to her elbows.