The Devil She Knew (12 page)

His hand slid into her hair and the tentative kiss turned passionate, his tongue plunging into her mouth. He ran his other hand down to her bottom, pulling her against his erection.

“Running isn’t the answer,” he whispered, keeping his lips on hers, “and it’s not what I want you to do.” He pressed his mouth into hers, wrapping his arms around her, creating a sensual cocoon of safety.

He was total heat, from his thighs to his hands to his mouth, working her emotions into a sizzling frenzy like oil dropping into a hot cast iron skillet. This man was solid, strong and yet tender. And oh so hot. She leaned into him, returning his kiss, feeling her pulse rate increase and her desire arc. She’d never truly had a man to lean on. Did she dare rely on this one?

Somewhere upstairs a door slammed and Clay released her. “Let’s get out of here and we can talk.”

Cassidy wiped tears from her cheeks, kneeled, and scooped the dumped clothes into the laundry bag. Clay reached for the bag when she stood. “Anything else?”

She shook her head.

“C’mon.” He eased his hand between her shoulder blades and nudged her toward the door, picking up the box and balancing the dirty clothes bag on top of it. After locking the door behind them, they made their way to the truck.

Once locked safely inside, Cassidy relaxed her stiffened back muscles.

“Did you have a lease here?”

“Monthly.”

“Good. I’ll notify the landlord that you won’t be renewing.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Relax, hon. It will be all right. You’re out of there now.”

They drove home in silence. A thousand conflicting thoughts bombarded her brain. Tony DelMorrie had found her. She sensed it. How close was he? Did he know where she worked? She hadn’t spoken to anyone, so he couldn’t know about her relocation to the Cestra Chalets. But if he was watching her now, he’d surely follow them. She swiveled her head slowly in a half circle, her chin moving from one shoulder to the other, looking for a car that moved as they did, or a suspicious onlooker. Nothing. No movement. No vehicle following.

Did he know about Clay? And what about him? Butterflies danced in her stomach when she recalled his kiss and acknowledged his desire. There was no mistaking what he had in mind and she suppressed a smile conceding that she was certainly interested. But what would it lead to? What did she have to offer him? She was a fugitive. And he was the law.

Turning her head she blinked back tears as she looked out the window. Who was the devil now?

Arriving at Chalet II, Clay parked in his reserved spot and retrieved her items from the truck bed. She jumped from the passenger seat, waited, and they walked silently toward the entrance.

Since his hands were full, Cassidy opened and held the front door for him. At her unit, she again unlocked the entry for him and stepped back, allowing Clay inside first. He deposited the box on the round table, dropped the laundry bag on the floor, then walked deliberately toward her.

Startled, she backed up until her back was against the door. Clay advanced on her, positioning his arms at her shoulders, pinning her in that position. His mouth swooped down to capture hers so fiercely, their teeth clicked. He leaned his body fully against hers, thighs against thighs, belly to belly, breasts pushed into rock hard pecs. Heat engulfed her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed into him. Yes, yes. This was the real hiding place she sought, inside his arms, inside him.

He pushed her eyeglasses to the top of her head and cradled her face in his hands, his gray eyes clouded with desire. “Ask me to stay,” he whispered, capturing her lips before she could answer. She returned his kiss, forcing her tongue between his lips. He groaned softly.

She released his mouth and whispered, “Stay.”

Clay kissed her harder, bruising her lips and burning his way into her heart. She lowered her hands to his sides and yanked his shirt from his pants. Sliding her hands beneath, she caressed his back, appreciating the sinewy, hard muscles under her fingertips.

Clay caught his breath, drew back, and gazed into her eyes. “Jesus, Cassie. You drive me crazy.” He dropped his hands to the hem of her jersey and slowly eased it up. Lifting her arms to help, in seconds the shirt lay in a heap on the floor. Clay gazed at her breasts, partially concealed by a white demi-bra, and then cupped them in his hands. “You’re beautiful.”

Pushing them together he ran his tongue along the cleft, sending delicious chills down to her toes. His thumbs massaged her nipples through the material while he spread tiny kisses across every inch of her chest. She grabbed his biceps, registering somewhere in her brain they were too thick for her fingers to meet, and gently pushed him back.

“Can I take you to my bedroom?”

He smiled, dropping his hands to grasp hers. “I thought you’d never take the hint.”

She stepped out of her shoes and he followed, then she led him through the dark to the bedroom and pulled him to the bed. A pole lamp directly outside the window cast them in shadows. Stepping up with one knee she crawled on top of the bedspread, turned on her knees, and faced him. Pulling him close to the bedside she reached for the edge of his pullover.

“Let’s keep this fair,” she whispered, starting an ascent to remove the garment. Clay reached between his shoulder blades, grabbed the shirt, and yanked it over his head.

The first glimpse of his sculpted chest, muscular arms, and lean waist caused her mouth to go dry. Grooved obliques framed washboard abs that begged to be kissed. A tribal armband tattoo wrapped around his left bicep, positioned just above where his shirt sleeve would end. She licked her lips and swallowed hard. “Wow.”

He looked confused. “What?” She ran her eyes over every spot of tightly stretched skin, noting a sprinkling of crisp chest hair branching downward toward his rippled stomach muscles. “You’re spectacular to look at.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and engulfed her in a kiss, easing up onto the bed on his knees, then gently pulling her down with him to the pillows. Facing each other on their sides, he ran his hand from her waist down her hip to her thigh. His eyes gleamed.

“Cassie,” he whispered, caressing her thigh through the denim, “I’ve thought about you in my arms almost since the first time I saw you. You hardly know me. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

She reached for his cheek, feeling soft stubble beneath her fingertips. “I could ask you the same thing.”

He rolled on top of her, urging her legs apart with his knee. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” He covered her mouth with his, hungry, forceful, taking possession. Then slowly, he began to spread kisses along her neck and shoulders, traveling to her breasts. Adeptly, he reached beneath her back and unhooked her bra. He’d barely slid the cotton fabric away when his mouth enclosed her breast, his tongue tantalizing her nipple.

Her toes curled at the sensation and she dug her fingers into his back. He rose on his elbows and stole her mouth again, kissing her more passionately. He began another journey along her neck, over her breasts, down her belly, and to the waistband of her jeans. Each kiss ignited a spark within her hot enough to fire up a kiln. Indeed, she was on fire for this man.

He nimbly unclasped the snap on her jeans and used his tongue to forge a path to the elastic edge of her panties. Clasping her hips with both hands he whispered, “Lift up,” and she obliged, feeling jeans and undies slide down her legs in one fluid movement, dragging her socks off her feet as well.

He placed his first kiss on the underside of her left knee, using his tongue to make tiny swirls. A vision of chocolate and vanilla ice cream swirling together, mixing and melting under the heat of his lips popped into her head. He slowly advanced up the inside of her thigh, causing her to arch her back and lock her jaw with each inch of progress. When he settled his mouth between her legs, she moaned.

“I knew you’d be sweet,” Clay murmured, moving his hands beneath her bottom and squeezing her cheeks.

Surrender. It was the only word she could think of to describe her plummet into this man’s control. Sweet surrender.

He kissed, he licked, he probed with his fingers, bringing her to the edge of ecstasy. She reached down and laced her fingers into his hair.

“Clay, please. I want you inside me.”

He rose on his knees, smiling, still clad in his jeans. She watched as he unsnapped his pants and slid jeans, boxer briefs, and sweat socks off in one smooth maneuver. Before dropping the clothes, he reached into his back pocket, removed his billfold and extracted a condom. Ripping the foil packet with his teeth, he slid the condom over his erection then leaned forward to gaze into her eyes, supporting himself on his hands.

“Are you sure?”

She raised her legs, wrapping them around his hips like a wrestler capturing his opponent in a body scissors grip, and applied pressure with her feet against his butt to urge him closer. When he filled her she groaned and tilted her head back, inviting his kisses along her throat.

Their bodies conspired to play a love concerto, moving rhythmically with each other, slowly building to a crescendo of ecstasy, finishing in a powerful finale. Cassidy gasped his name as spasms of release overcame her, while Clay whispered hers with his face buried in her neck. Her breath came in tiny puffs, like a skilled marathon runner pacing herself, and with her eyes closed, she eased her way down from glory.

She threw her arm across her face as Clay gently rolled off of her and onto his back.

“I didn’t expect that to happen,” she whispered.

“Me neither.”

“I think you should leave.” She heard his head move on the pillow, felt his eyes on her, but he remained silent.

“This isn’t a good idea, you and me. I can’t … it just won’t work.” She rolled onto her side, away from him, and brought her knees up to her chest. In seconds, he snuggled behind her, bending his legs to fit her form and dropping his arm across her stomach to pull her against his chest. He nuzzled the back of her hair with his nose and placed his mouth against her ear.

“I’m not leaving and you can’t push me away. You’re running again, this time from me. But I’m not going to let you go just because you are scared of something.” He jutted his hips forward, pressing his erection against her bottom, and slid his hand down between her legs. “You don’t want me to leave either, not feeling like this.” When he inserted his fingers inside her she moaned softly and opened her legs. How could she have let this happen? She was no longer in control. Suddenly, every fiber of her being belonged to him.

“I can’t get enough of you. I want to make love to you again,” he whispered and she turned, throwing her leg over his hip and hungrily searching for his mouth, like a baby bird reaching for food from its mother. He was nourishment for her soul.

• • •

They lay silent, still connected, dampness clinging to their skin, their heart rates simultaneously slowing. Clay raised his head, bracing himself on his elbows, and kissed her tenderly.

He hadn’t withdrawn from her yet and wished he never would. He was like a blind man suddenly gifted with vision who wanted to see everything all at once. In the other room, Cassidy’s mantel clock chimed and the corners of her mouth tipped upward.

“That clock is important to you, isn’t it?”

Her smile widened and she traced a vein on his bicep as she spoke. “It was my mother’s. Once, when I was little, my parents left me with a babysitter and there was this big thunderstorm that absolutely terrified me. I was inconsolable until they came home and I remember my mother rocking me in her arms and telling me how foolish I was. That clock chimed and she told me that it had magical powers. She whispered that whenever she wasn’t around and the clock sang, it meant that she was right there with me and I shouldn’t be afraid. Now that she’s gone, it’s really a comfort for me.”

He remained silent. Her eyes said she had more to offer. “Sometimes, I don’t even hear it,” she whispered. “Other times, like now, I think it’s her way of reaching out to me.”

Clay brushed her cheek with his finger. “I hope she approves of me.” Cassidy’s smile returned.

Clay moved his finger to her hairline, brushing tiny wisps off her forehead. “So, no parents and a brother you don’t get along with.”

She spoke softly, her words laced with sadness. “That’s me. All alone.”

A surge of desire coursed through him, heating him from toenails to fingernails. He kissed her gently. “Not anymore, honey.” She stared at him in the dim light from the window, those big brown eyes questioning. “This isn’t something frivolous, Cassidy. It’s not just a fling, because I’m not a fling kind of guy. It’s deeper. It’s something important, something solid. I know it and I think you feel it. Everything changes now,” he whispered, staring into her eyes. “We have a lot of things to talk about.”

She ran her finger around his ear to his jaw line. “What if you don’t like what you hear?”

He arched one eyebrow. “I could ask you the same question,” he said, throwing her words from earlier in the evening back at her.

She smiled and traced his lips with her finger, sending a message to every nerve cell in his body. “Do you have some deep, dark, hidden secret I should know about?”

Memories of that night when his colleagues needed a battering ram to break down the door, when his police brothers were forced to restrain him and ultimately file charges in connection with the stabbing flashed through his mind. That was a dark period of his life. Would she be appalled if he told her about that murderous rage? Would the angel he’d just found take flight, fearing what he was capable of? He couldn’t bear it if she did. He kissed the fingers against his lips. “Do you?”

Even as Cassidy stared at him, once again looking like a cornered animal, he knew the answer. First and foremost, he was a cop and he knew a ransacked room when he saw one. He’d been about to chide her about her housekeeping habits just hours ago in her apartment after he’d walked into the kitchen and discovered every cabinet door and drawer open. But he’d swallowed his questions when she dissolved in his arms, trembling in terror. Someone had searched every corner of that apartment. He knew it and she knew it. The question was, did she know who? He recognized fear. He’d seen it in Cassidy’s eyes standing in her bedroom, felt it when he comforted her quivering body. She fought it now when she spoke so softly he barely heard her say, “Yes.”