and kissed again in long, searching explorations of lip and tongue that spun out endlessly. The windows grew moist and fogged over, and a passing motorist honked, but Ike didn’t care as she touched him, stroking whatever part of him she could reach, wishing they were somewhere else, someplace more comfortable.
I want this,
she thought — or maybe she said the words aloud, because he shifted the angle of the kiss, delving deeper and freeing a hand to trace her breast through the light fabric of her dress. She arched against his touch, straining to get closer to him in the small confines of the car, then turned her head to nip a delicate path down the side of his neck, where she fastened on and suckled for a moment, eliciting a groan from deep within his chest.
“William,” she said, whispering his name, glorying at the feel and taste of him, the rasp of stubble against her cheek and throat and the hard muscles that bunched and flexed at her touch. “Oh,
William.
”
He shuddered, the motion transmitting throughout his big body as he withdrew from her, pulling away to stare down at her, his ribs heaving with great draughts of air, his eyes dark with passion. Then they darkened further as he looked around. “God. We’re under a damned bridge.”
“Then let’s find someplace better,” Ike suggested, having no doubt they were on the same page. They needed to scratch the itch or go mad, relieve the tension lest it distract them from their pursuit of Odin.
The very thought of taking William inside her, of unleashing all the raw power promised in his kiss, had Ike’s inner muscles clenching on a warm rush of desire and had her heart stuttering ever so slightly on a hitch of nerves. Her previous lovers — and there had been more than she cared to admit — had been good men, strong enough for a no-strings, no-frills relationship. And if none of them had ever progressed to the point of love, none of them had truly hurt when the end came a few weeks or months later.
William was already different. Her feelings for him were already different. Yet even that wasn’t enough to dissuade her, because since when did Ike Rombout back down from a challenge?
You’re not Ike right now,
a small, sly voice whispered.
You’re Eleanor.
William exhaled and pulled even farther away from her. “We should talk.”
“Fair enough. I’m a big fan of going in with my eyes open.” Ike straightened and tugged at her dress. “Lord knows I’ve never been shy, so I’ll start.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, aware that his eyes flicked to her breasts, aware that her nipples peaked beneath his regard. Her blood churned, yearned, as she said, “We can make this work, keep it totally separate from the case. Hell, scratching the itch’ll probably help us focus rather than distracting us. I don’t know about you, but I’m just about cross-eyed right now. If you don’t kiss me in the next minute or so, I’m going to implode.”
Tension thrummed through her, collecting in a hard knot at her core, a clench of muscles anticipating his kiss and his touch.
Instead of kissing her, William actually winced. “That wasn’t what I was going to say at all.”
The icy slap of rejection stung her with unfamiliar venom, seizing her lungs and stealing the oxygen from the air around her. “Then what exactly were you going to say?”
“That I can’t do this.” The awkward regret in his expression was more painful than a gut punch. “I’m sorry,” he said again, wounding her with his pity. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Hell, I didn’t mean for it to get started in the first place. But it needs to stop.”
Her lips felt stiff and odd when she said, “Why?”
“Because the woman I’m attracted to doesn’t really exist.”
W ILLIAM’S EXES might’ve been unanimous in calling him honest to a fault — even to the point of coldness — but he’d always figured it was best to get the tough stuff out there
I want this,
she thought — or maybe she said the words aloud, because he shifted the angle of the kiss, delving deeper and freeing a hand to trace her breast through the light fabric of her dress. She arched against his touch, straining to get closer to him in the small confines of the car, then turned her head to nip a delicate path down the side of his neck, where she fastened on and suckled for a moment, eliciting a groan from deep within his chest.
“William,” she said, whispering his name, glorying at the feel and taste of him, the rasp of stubble against her cheek and throat and the hard muscles that bunched and flexed at her touch. “Oh,
William.
”
He shuddered, the motion transmitting throughout his big body as he withdrew from her, pulling away to stare down at her, his ribs heaving with great draughts of air, his eyes dark with passion. Then they darkened further as he looked around. “God. We’re under a damned bridge.”
“Then let’s find someplace better,” Ike suggested, having no doubt they were on the same page. They needed to scratch the itch or go mad, relieve the tension lest it distract them from their pursuit of Odin.
The very thought of taking William inside her, of unleashing all the raw power promised in his kiss, had Ike’s inner muscles clenching on a warm rush of desire and had her heart stuttering ever so slightly on a hitch of nerves. Her previous lovers — and there had been more than she cared to admit — had been good men, strong enough for a no-strings, no-frills relationship. And if none of them had ever progressed to the point of love, none of them had truly hurt when the end came a few weeks or months later.
William was already different. Her feelings for him were already different. Yet even that wasn’t enough to dissuade her, because since when did Ike Rombout back down from a challenge?
You’re not Ike right now,
a small, sly voice whispered.
You’re Eleanor.
William exhaled and pulled even farther away from her. “We should talk.”
“Fair enough. I’m a big fan of going in with my eyes open.” Ike straightened and tugged at her dress. “Lord knows I’ve never been shy, so I’ll start.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, aware that his eyes flicked to her breasts, aware that her nipples peaked beneath his regard. Her blood churned, yearned, as she said, “We can make this work, keep it totally separate from the case. Hell, scratching the itch’ll probably help us focus rather than distracting us. I don’t know about you, but I’m just about cross-eyed right now. If you don’t kiss me in the next minute or so, I’m going to implode.”
Tension thrummed through her, collecting in a hard knot at her core, a clench of muscles anticipating his kiss and his touch.
Instead of kissing her, William actually winced. “That wasn’t what I was going to say at all.”
The icy slap of rejection stung her with unfamiliar venom, seizing her lungs and stealing the oxygen from the air around her. “Then what exactly were you going to say?”
“That I can’t do this.” The awkward regret in his expression was more painful than a gut punch. “I’m sorry,” he said again, wounding her with his pity. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Hell, I didn’t mean for it to get started in the first place. But it needs to stop.”
Her lips felt stiff and odd when she said, “Why?”
“Because the woman I’m attracted to doesn’t really exist.”
W ILLIAM’S EXES might’ve been unanimous in calling him honest to a fault — even to the point of coldness — but he’d always figured it was best to get the tough stuff out there
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