Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Reese blinked. Oh, Lord, Knight was looking at her like he was faced with a bomb he had thirty seconds to defuse. If her pleasure was derailed by a pastie, she was going to sue somebody.
“Of course it comes off. You just pull it.” What did he think? She was going to spend eternity with a piece of tape stuck to her?
Reluctantly letting her hands drop from over her head, she reached into her dress. She had kind of liked that cop/suspect thing they’d had going on. With little patience or finesse, she stripped the pasties off her skin and tossed them on the floor.
Knight winced. “Jesus, doesn’t that hurt?”
Not as much as wanting to have sex with him and instead standing there doing nothing.
“No. Now, what were you saying before that?” To make her point clear, she put her hands back up over her head and licked her lips.
Knight drew his gaze from the abandoned pasties on the floor and went wide-eyed. That was good. Right back where she wanted him.
He might think he was a federal agent in charge, but she knew better. He wanted her bad, which was just right.
“I have no goddamn idea what I was saying.”
Then his mouth covered her breast, and his warm wet tongue tickled across her nipple.
She squirmed against the door, wanting way more than that.
Knight had tugged until her dress was under the swell of her breast and he held it in place while his fingers rushed along her sensitive skin and his mouth covered her more fully.
“Keep talking,” she murmured, only to give a cry of disappointment as he pulled back.
Small kisses rained down her ribs and abdomen over her dress as he bent down. Reese reached for him. “Where are you going? Come back up here.”
He took her hands and pressed them back against the wall, next to her thighs. “Ma’am, you’re interfering with a federal investigation. Just stand still, please.”
As if she could move a muscle. Not when every one in her body was a squishy mass of orgasmic anticipation.
“What are you looking for?” she asked, focusing on the top of his head, trying to keep her eyes open, noticing the little swirl of darker hair he had at the crown.
“I want to know what happened to your panties.”
His hands were under her dress, inching upward until his thumb and forefinger touched the front of her lace panties, stroking back and forth.
Reese gripped the door and tilted her legs together as desire shot through her, ripping into every inch of her body and flooding her inner thighs with moist heat.
“Nothing happened to them, except they’re a little warmer than they were before.” Hot enough to melt plastic, in fact.
“I saw them before...” Knight was inching her dress up over her hips as he spoke. “Then when I felt your ass, they were gone, and now they’re back. How is that possible?”
Reese wanted to explain the mysteries of the thong and the desire to eliminate unsightly panty lines in clinging cocktail dresses, but her mouth was too full of saliva to speak without gurgling.
Besides, given the way he was studying her, hands all over her thighs, mouth sliding along her skin to…oh my god, he was bound to figure it out on his own.
“Wait a minute.”
When he pulled his lips back from the front of her panties, Reese tried not to cry.
Then strong hands twisted her back around until her backside was towards the hall—towards him—again, only this time her dress was up around her waist and she was sure he could see everything that God had given her. Left and right side.
“I should have guessed. A thong,” he said, voice thick and low. “Christ, that’s a beautiful thing. ”
Her face was smushed against a cold hotel door, the peephole pressing into her cheek and her bare behind was stuck out for Knight and anyone who happened to walk by to see, but when one rough finger ran down the lace line of her thong, she didn’t give a flying fig about anything.
Anything but his hard warm hand, plucking the little string forward, and slipping down, down, between her cheeks and around, where he stopped.
“Look what I found,” he murmured, his mouth by her ear, his chest brushing against her back.
Reese wiggled, wanting him to move, to fill her with his fingers like he had the day before. Her breast was still out of her dress, the fabric shifting and bunching, her nipple randomly hitting the cold door as she rocked. The surprise of cool metal against her hot flesh made her gasp.
Knight pushed her thighs apart with his wrist, then dipped inside her with his finger. He wasted no time, setting a quick rhythm of sharp thrusts that had her clinging to the door and panting, ready to let a quick orgasm overwhelm her.
Then the door next to them opened.
Knight heard the sound before she did and he pulled out of her with a quick jerk, while his other hand yanked the skirt of her dress down. She wasn’t that quick. Reese was still clinging to the door and moaning when a nice-looking, older couple stepped out of the room next to them.
“Honey, I can’t find my key,” Knight said. “Let me get the other one out of your purse.”
She could feel him bending over to retrieve her fallen purse, felt his hip knock against hers, and she struggled to peel herself off the door and at least attempt to look normal.
Given the twin expressions of shock on the couple’s face, she guessed she wasn’t succeeding.
But then Knight said, “I think my wife ate bad chicken. All of a sudden her stomach hurts and she’s flushed.”
The woman’s hand went to her chest. “Oh, poor thing. You’d better get her inside quick.”
Reese moaned again, keeping her left side turned to the door, suddenly aware that if she stood straight up, her breast would be waving at the nice couple. Knight stepped in front of her, shielding her as he stuck the key card in the slot.
The green light blinked, Knight turned the knob, and the couple started down the hall. And Reese felt the overwhelming urge to laugh, a wheeze squeezing past her clamped lips.
Knight shot her an amused look as he pushed the door open. The door had barely swung shut behind them when his arms were around her, and his mouth was rushing towards hers.
“Wait, you’d better not kiss me. I’ve had bad chicken.” She put her fingers on his lips to stop his progress.
“Ha, ha.”
His tongue reached out and flicked her fingertip, all that moist heat, slick and intimate, creating a comparison to another part of her she wasn’t likely to misunderstand.
It seemed Knight had figured it out, too. Already he was lowering himself to his knees, right there in the entry to her room, the coat closet behind her and the mirror—holy hell, the mirror—right in front of her.
Unable to look away, fascinated and flushed with pleasure, Reese watched the back of his head, and the taut pull of his suit jacket as he yanked up her skirt again.
He didn’t bother to take her panties off, just pushed the lace to the side and spread her with his thumbs.
His shoulders tensed, one knee on the floor, the other bent as he studied her, breath blowing across her clit.
Reese dared to look higher in the mirror, to confront her own image, and her hand fell to his head for support.
Curling her fingers in his thick hair, she took in her own disheveled hair, the bright pink spots on her face, the cherry lips, and one breast pushed up out of her dress. Bad chicken, her ass. She looked like she’d been caught in the act. Plain and simple.
“I want to taste you.”
When his tongue gave a light dart across her, she tightened her hold on his hair and pulled, the strands curling around her anxious fingers. Her knees bent, weakening under the onslaught of pleasure tearing through her.
Knight took another slow lick, sliding from one end of her slit to the other, and she shuddered.
His hands snaked around to her bare backside, and holding her tight, he drew her forward, bumping her against his tongue, driving her insane with need, burning aching need that was every kind of pleasure mixed with tight pain.
Back and forth he went, up and down, while his nose knocked into her, and his thumbs stroked the underside of her ass. Reese held on and gave in to it, feeling an orgasm building, hot undulating waves of desire rushing up to consume her.
When they did, she jerked hard in her intense satisfaction, falling back against the closet door.
But Knight held on, fingers squeezing hard in her thighs as he kept his tongue roving over her, questing, pleasing, while shudders coursed through her body.
Eyes half closed, she still managed to catch their reflections in the mirror, her body pressed up against Knight’s, her taut hold on his head, his movements slowing as she relaxed.
When he leaned back and gazed up at her, she nearly blushed. Geez, that was fast. The arrogant satisfaction on his face didn’t help. So she shoved his head none too gently, letting her fingers unfurl from his soft caramel hair.
Most men would have been offended. It was a rude gesture. But Knight just laughed.
“You like to go first, but then it pisses you off that you’re finished first, doesn’t it?”
Maybe. Yes. So, what of it?
Reese raised her arms and tried to tug her dress up over her hips. Nothing moved and she wiggled to get a better hold. “I’m not finished. Get a condom and I’ll show you.”
Knight’s head hit her thighs. Startled, she dropped her arms and looked at him buried in her crotch, groaning. “What?”
“I never bought condoms. Last night I was up working until two, I got home and my sister was in my apartment, and then this morning—” he pulled back and pointed to his head “—I got a haircut. I forgot to get the condoms.”
That was possibly the worst thing she’d ever heard.
“Do we really need them?” he asked, a hopeful pleading in his voice.
Reese cuffed him on the head. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Okay. Sorry.” He stood up and stuck his hand in his pocket. “But I just meant that if you’re on the pill…”
She knew what he meant, but women who have sex every three years do not need to be on the pill. She suddenly wished she had suffered from cramps and irregular cycles. But no such luck, she’d never needed the pill for that, either.
“No, I’m not.” But she was glad he’d gotten the haircut. He looked really hot. Not that he’d been hurting before, but in the suit, with the hair…yowsa.
She wanted to take that jacket off him. Right now.
Forgetting about her uncooperative dress, she reached out and ran her hands along his chest, scraping her nails over the smooth crisp fabric of his shirt.
She could feel his hard muscles tightening beneath her touch and she explored up and down, shoving his jacket to the side.
“Are you frisking me, now?” he asked, staying aloof with his hands still in his pockets.
“I’m looking for your gun.” Reese closed the remaining distance between them and rolled her head back when his erection nudged her. If he had been aiming for the target, he couldn’t have done better. Bull’s-eye.