perfectly.
He felt the soft apex of her thighs cradling his erection, and was overwhelmed by the need to have her hot, wet, naked, now. Changing the angle of his kiss, he backed her toward a concrete picnic table, seeking a flat surface on which to lay her down. When her bottom hit the table, she sat on its edge and wrapped her long, silky legs around him.
At that moment, he abandoned common sense in favor of raw sensation.
Desperate for the feel of her bare skin, he rode one hand up her sleek thigh and slid the other underneath her T-shirt, filling his palm with her breast. Through the thin fabric of her bra, he felt her nipple, tight with need. He circled his thumb over the pebbled tip as she cried out, twisting her fingers in his hair.
Her small sound of pleasure rang out in the open space, reminding him of where they were. Lifting his head, he searched the deserted park for somewhere more private than a picnic table and more romantic than a public rest room.
Across the street, Crystal Dunn’s news van was parked. One of her cronies was pointing a telephoto lens out the passenger side window, straight at him.
Marc saw his entire career flash before his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “Wh-what?”
One moment, he was kissing her ravenously, moving his strong, eager hands all over her body, taking everything, holding nothing back. The next, he had completely withdrawn.
“I didn’t mean to do that.” He jerked his hand out from beneath her shirt like a kid caught in a cookie jar. His eyes swept down her body, coming to rest at the top of her thighs, making her all too aware of the sensual image she presented, legs splayed before him, her soft terry-cloth shorts barely covering what was necessary.
“CSI will be here any minute,” he said, pushing himself away from her.
Did he still think she had something to do with that…monster who defiled women? Indignation burned through her like wildfire, and she hated him, hated herself, hated her body’s traitorous reaction to his touch. Even now, she wanted him to continue, to put his hand back under her shirt, or better yet, between her legs, to soothe the torment he’d created.
They waited for his team in bitter silence. When crime scene investigators arrived on the scene, he gave them a few terse instructions and pulled Detective Lacy aside. “I need you to check with residents about a suspicious character hanging around last night.”
She darted a glance at Sidney. “Do you have a description?”
“Not really. Possible Caucasian. Thin build. Average to above-average height.”
Nodding, she hurried away to complete the task. Marc turned back to Sidney. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
Unless she wanted to be stranded, Sidney didn’t have much choice, so she quickened her stride to keep up with him. He was rushing toward his car, which wasn’t unusual, as he was a man who lived at a fast pace. Before they got there, she realized he had another reason to hurry: Crystal Dunn and her omnipresent news crew.
“Get that goddamned camera out of my face,” he ordered, opening the door for Sidney. When she got in, he slammed it, effectively cutting her out of the conversation.
Crystal asked the cameraman to give her five.
“Slumming, Marc?” she asked, standing between him and the driver side, a not-so-sweet smile on her pretty face.
Sidney’s jaw dropped. Although she was inside the car, she could hear every word, and had no trouble catching the slight.
“I went slumming once,” he replied, giving her a pointed look.
“It wasn’t that good.”
Crystal laughed with the confidence of a woman who knew she was being lied to. Sidney wanted to rip her perfectly coiffed platinum hair out by its dark blond roots.
“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Go chase another bone.”
“I guess I’ll go over your head, then,” she said, smoothing her hand over the front of his shirt. “Talk to Stokes.”
His
He felt the soft apex of her thighs cradling his erection, and was overwhelmed by the need to have her hot, wet, naked, now. Changing the angle of his kiss, he backed her toward a concrete picnic table, seeking a flat surface on which to lay her down. When her bottom hit the table, she sat on its edge and wrapped her long, silky legs around him.
At that moment, he abandoned common sense in favor of raw sensation.
Desperate for the feel of her bare skin, he rode one hand up her sleek thigh and slid the other underneath her T-shirt, filling his palm with her breast. Through the thin fabric of her bra, he felt her nipple, tight with need. He circled his thumb over the pebbled tip as she cried out, twisting her fingers in his hair.
Her small sound of pleasure rang out in the open space, reminding him of where they were. Lifting his head, he searched the deserted park for somewhere more private than a picnic table and more romantic than a public rest room.
Across the street, Crystal Dunn’s news van was parked. One of her cronies was pointing a telephoto lens out the passenger side window, straight at him.
Marc saw his entire career flash before his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “Wh-what?”
One moment, he was kissing her ravenously, moving his strong, eager hands all over her body, taking everything, holding nothing back. The next, he had completely withdrawn.
“I didn’t mean to do that.” He jerked his hand out from beneath her shirt like a kid caught in a cookie jar. His eyes swept down her body, coming to rest at the top of her thighs, making her all too aware of the sensual image she presented, legs splayed before him, her soft terry-cloth shorts barely covering what was necessary.
“CSI will be here any minute,” he said, pushing himself away from her.
Did he still think she had something to do with that…monster who defiled women? Indignation burned through her like wildfire, and she hated him, hated herself, hated her body’s traitorous reaction to his touch. Even now, she wanted him to continue, to put his hand back under her shirt, or better yet, between her legs, to soothe the torment he’d created.
They waited for his team in bitter silence. When crime scene investigators arrived on the scene, he gave them a few terse instructions and pulled Detective Lacy aside. “I need you to check with residents about a suspicious character hanging around last night.”
She darted a glance at Sidney. “Do you have a description?”
“Not really. Possible Caucasian. Thin build. Average to above-average height.”
Nodding, she hurried away to complete the task. Marc turned back to Sidney. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
Unless she wanted to be stranded, Sidney didn’t have much choice, so she quickened her stride to keep up with him. He was rushing toward his car, which wasn’t unusual, as he was a man who lived at a fast pace. Before they got there, she realized he had another reason to hurry: Crystal Dunn and her omnipresent news crew.
“Get that goddamned camera out of my face,” he ordered, opening the door for Sidney. When she got in, he slammed it, effectively cutting her out of the conversation.
Crystal asked the cameraman to give her five.
“Slumming, Marc?” she asked, standing between him and the driver side, a not-so-sweet smile on her pretty face.
Sidney’s jaw dropped. Although she was inside the car, she could hear every word, and had no trouble catching the slight.
“I went slumming once,” he replied, giving her a pointed look.
“It wasn’t that good.”
Crystal laughed with the confidence of a woman who knew she was being lied to. Sidney wanted to rip her perfectly coiffed platinum hair out by its dark blond roots.
“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Go chase another bone.”
“I guess I’ll go over your head, then,” she said, smoothing her hand over the front of his shirt. “Talk to Stokes.”
His
Similar Books
