Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The first time he’d kissed her, it’d been in the forest, surrounded by silent trees and watchful birds, and she hadn’t been prepared. He’d kissed her because Brent Gannon was coming, because he needed a reason for them to be alone in the woods, and that’d been a good one.
She hadn’t thought for a second that he’d really wanted to kiss her.
She’d known for months that she wanted to kiss him, however.
Every time they’d clashed over his mission or her investigation, every time their gazes caught and tangled across a room, she’d thought about what it would feel like to have his mouth against hers, his body naked beneath her fingers.
She’d often suggested to Joel that they go to the Dawg for one of their dates, knowing Alex Bishop would be there, glowering at her like she’d stolen his puppy.
She’d gone to the Independence Day Festival for yet another chance to look at this man and dream about what it would be like to belong to someone as self-assured and gorgeous as he was.
She’d admired him in his One Shot Tactical polo shirts, the armholes of his short sleeves stretched around his biceps, the fabric hugging his chest. She’d practically drooled over the narrow waist of his faded jeans, imagining the flat belly beneath and the muscles—dear God, the muscles—that adorned his torso.
She was not prone to fantasies about men she met, but this one had been the exception. For months now, he’d been an unwelcome exception—and a complete distraction.
She didn’t know why, other than he oozed competence and strict adherence to a moral code she understood. He didn’t display one face to the world while wearing another beneath it the way Viktor did. The way so many criminals she’d encountered in her job did.
His mouth demanded, his tongue danced against hers, and her body dissolved into bonelessness as she clung to him. There was no time to think because thinking would mean stopping.
And she didn’t want to stop.
Diana tugged his shirt from his jeans, her hands slipping beneath the fabric to caress taut skin. He swore against her mouth, then pushed her flannel shirt off her shoulders before ripping her T-shirt over her head.
Thank heavens she’d worn nice underwear. He cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs caressing her nipples over the silk, his mouth still doing devastating things to hers.
She went for his belt, tugging it free, leaving little doubt what was on her mind.
His mouth left hers, trailed along her jaw and down her neck.
He unsnapped her bra with the finesse of an expert and tugged it off to drop it on the couch.
Then her naked breasts were in his hands and his tongue laved around one taut peak and then the other before he sucked a nipple into his mouth with a strong pull that had her gasping and squeezing his arms.
A moment later he pulled back, gazing down at her. “What are we doing, Diana?”
She unbuttoned his jeans. “I thought it was obvious.”
His eyes slipped to her breasts, lingered, before making the return trip to hers. “Feels obvious, but I need to be sure. And I probably should mention I don’t exactly keep a box of condoms in my pocket.”
“I’ve got that covered. But I really need you to stop talking and go back to what you were doing before I lose my nerve.”
He frowned. “You need nerve? Because I’m thinking that’s a sign we probably shouldn’t be doing this.” He took a step back, started to button his jeans, but she moved into him until they were skin to skin.
“I want this, Alex. I need nerve because you make me nervous, not because I don’t know what I want. And if you think I want to fuck you so you’ll take me to meetings, you’d be wrong. I’m going whether we fuck or not.”
He swore and laughed at the same time. “Of course you are. Jesus, you piss me off.”
“Same here. Also, I hate you. In case you were worried I’d think of this as a marriage proposal.”
“Damn, baby, you’re wounding my male ego here. A man likes to think he’s so irresistible a woman wants to capture him.” But his hand was on her jaw, threading into her hair, and his mouth inched toward hers again. Her heart careened like a butterfly.
“I’m not interested in capturing you,” she murmured, her gaze on his mouth. “But I can think of other things to do with you.”
He grinned, his mouth a whisper away. “I can’t wait to find out.”
She thought he’d kiss her but instead he dropped his mouth to her breasts again.
He pushed them together in his big hands, sucking each nipple into a tingling point before he went to his knees and unbuttoned her jeans.
Her nipples glistened from his attention, peaks taut and aching.
She wanted him to suck them some more, but he pushed her jeans down her hips instead.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“Whatever I want. You got a problem with it?”
“Uh, no,” she said, her blood beating a tattoo in her veins. This was new territory. She’d never had a man take the lead like this one. And never, ever had she thought he might do something she’d never experienced before. Not that she knew what he planned, but God it was exciting to think about.
When her jeans were puddled on the floor, she stepped out of them as directed. Alex leaned forward to press a kiss to her panties, and she had to strangle the cry that wanted free. Dear God….
“I, um, should get those condoms… we can go to the bedroom, and—”
“Don’t need any yet. Got other things I want to do.” He pulled her panties off, and she stepped out of them until she was naked. His fingers trailed down her body, gliding between her legs. “Damn,” he groaned. “You’re soaked for me.”
“Alex,” she gasped as he traced a finger over her clit. Her hands curled into his shoulders. Confusion and desire warred for space in her head.
What was he doing? Why wasn’t he naked? Why wasn’t he inside her, pounding deep? She wasn’t accustomed to talking during sex, or to a man playing with her body like he did.
When he pushed her back on the couch and spread her legs, she thought she understood. His shoulders kept her spread open, his gaze fixed on her glistening sex, and her heart nearly stopped. Time seemed to stand still.
“I’ve been thinking about tasting this pussy,” he said, fingers skimming her clit. “Watching you fall apart, seeing your cool facade crack and dissolve while you beg me for more.”
“I—” She didn’t know what to say. She wanted him to do that, badly, but telling him? She wasn’t used to wanting like this. Wanting so much it hurt. Sex was supposed to be pleasurable. It wasn’t supposed to consume you.
“What do you want, Diana? This?” He leaned forward, swiped his tongue through her juices, and settled back again.
She realized she was whimpering. Bastard. “Yes. Please. Do…that.”
He grinned. “Do what, honey? Lick your pussy?”
“Yes. Please.”
“You sound so pretty when you beg.”
She vaguely thought she should be angry at the way he said those words, but she wasn’t. If she thought he believed her to be less than he was because she was a woman, it’d be a different story. But, right now, she’d beg him for anything he wanted.
“Please, Alex. Please lick me.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He settled between her legs and began to take her apart at the seams with his tongue, teeth, and lips.
Diana gasped as lightning streaked through her body, sizzling into every pore.
She lay against the back of the couch, her body curled forward so she could watch what he did to her.
His dark head between her legs was erotic as hell.
His tongue was magic, licking, swirling, sucking.
But when his glittering eyes met hers, she thought it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
She wanted to ask questions, wanted to tell him what he did to her, but speech was impossible as he slid two fingers inside and fucked her while his mouth continued to do indecent things.
Those fingers were distracting, but not distracting enough.
She wanted it to last, but the tension spiraled out of control, until her body flew apart with a cry and her limbs shook as he held her down and licked her through the most intense climax of her life.
She stared up at the ceiling, her heart pounding, her world permanently skewed. Why had she never demanded more from a lover? Why had she performed oral sex but let others get away with not doing it to her?
Alex kissed her inner thighs gently, then worked his way up her body, sucking her nipples lazily, his fingers tracing furrows of pleasure against her skin. Everywhere he touched her lit up, seeking, craving.
It wasn’t enough.
She touched him back, lifting her body to press her mouth to his neck, to taste his skin. His fingers drifted between her legs, and she gasped as he strummed her body, as heat built anew.
“You need to get naked,” she said.
He kissed her, his tongue delving deep, tasting like her arousal.
It was shockingly intimate, but she didn’t mind.
She tugged his shirt until he shrugged out of it, until the expanse of his golden skin was bared to her questing fingers.
Her mouth found his shoulder, sucked the skin there, her hands dropping to his zipper.
He stopped her. Before she could protest, he was on his feet, sweeping her into his arms like she weighed nothing.
He carried her to the bedroom and set her down and she attacked his jeans with renewed vigor.
She was past caring how crazy it was that they’d danced around each other for months, barely tolerated each other, and now she craved him like she craved air.
She got his jeans off and pushed him onto her bed.
His cock rose straight and proud—and big.
It was thick, beautiful, and he hissed in a breath as she wrapped a hand around him.
She’d never had a man go down on her before, but she’d done this.
She bent over, swirling her tongue around the crown, and he groaned.