A Fare To Remember_ Just Whistle_Driven - Vicki Lewis Thompson [65]
But clearly, she no longer cared. She wanted him. Here. Now. Because possibly, this was all they’d ever have.
Clothes melted away with the fire burning between them. The dimming sunlight against the sheer curtained window marked the dwindling time that they had to say goodbye, spurring him to lift her fully and completely against him, pressing her skin as tightly against his as he possibly could. She needed his heat to brand her, mark her, imprint her with the indelible passion that belonged to them alone. After tonight, she’d likely never see him again. There would be no more sneaking, no more bucking the rules. His job injected inescapable danger into his life, risk that had spilled into hers that morning on the sidewalk. She knew the thought of her paying the price for his choices sickened him. He was that kind of man.
So he’d say goodbye. But he’d make it count.
Roman lured her to the bedroom, her hand cupped softly in his, and watched her eyes turn glossy with the kind of anticipation and fear and need that he’d never seen in her before. Then again, he’d never much stopped to look, had he? They’d been too enraptured, too enslaved to lust and sexual pleasure to truly know each other.
Of course, there was the matter that if she’d known who he was then, she would have kicked him to the curb. Or at least, out her door.
But now she knew. And she’d stayed.
Roman couldn’t waste another moment. His first taste, taken with his lips across her neck, jacked his adrenaline to dangerous levels. His heart pounded, his blood surged, his muscles tightened, all from a simple kiss. She kissed him back, hard, lacing her tongue with his, spearing her hands into his hair and tugging gently, oh-so-subtly urging him to their usual frenetic and ravenous pace.
He smiled as he trailed his kisses higher—behind her ear, along her chin, to the tip of her nose, his hands solid on the sides of her cheeks.
With a frustrated sigh, she pushed him away, her eyes blazing.
“You act as if we have forever,” she complained.
“No,” he corrected her, “but we do have all night.”
She glanced toward the door, as if someone might rush in at any moment and interrupt. “You don’t know that for sure,” she said, her voice cracking with uncertainty.
There wasn’t a lot Roman seemed to know anymore, but he did know they would not be interrupted. Domino had not only agreed to lend him her suite, but she’d promised to keep an eye out until morning when she had to leave on another assignment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the covert operative, but oddly, his ex-lover hadn’t objected to his proposal that they buck the system and raise a finger at the rules so he could have one more night with Rachel. He’d even caught a glimmer of rebellion in her blue eyes—the source unknown. But he’d had no trouble using her newfound defiance to his advantage. She owed him.
“Trust me, Rachel.”
She licked her lips. Her tiny movement caused a painful tightening in his groin. His sex, thick and straining for her touch, ached as blood rushed downward. Her fingers danced across the bare skin of his hips, taunting him, zapping his brain so that he wondered, momentarily, why he wasn’t inside her yet.
“You’ve never asked me to trust you before, Roman.”
He skimmed his hands across her shoulders and down her back, yearning to clutch her buttocks and press her tight to him, but knowing he had to wait, draw this out, make this last.
“How could I?”
“Because you weren’t who you were pretending to be.”
He succumbed to temptation and laid his hands possessively over her backside. “I was when we made love.”
Her eyes turned pleading. “Prove it.”
He dropped to his knees. She gasped and her balance wavered at his unexpected attack, but he held her steady as he delved between her feminine lips with his tongue, easily finding the tiny tip of her sex. A sweet cream slipped onto his lips, amplifying his hunger, electrifying his need. He tugged her forward and she boldly wrapped one leg over his shoulder, increasing