a simple dinner invitation, not a lifelong commitment. And working with you now is beyond difficult,” she muttered.
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
Her knuckles whitened where she gripped the edge of the chair back. “It means…” Her eyes slid closed and opened, something he’d never before seen in her gaze burning in the blue depths when she looked at him. “ I want you .”
The words slammed into him, a punch to the gut, and he tried to process what she was saying. “Celia…”
“I want you and it’s driving me crazy.” She blew out a long breath and ran her hands through her hair, mussing it. “Obviously. God, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
He couldn’t either, but damn if he was going to blow this. Holding her gaze, he advanced on her to stop inches away. He dropped the folder on a side table and it slid to the floor, papers spilling across the polished wood. He wrapped his hands over hers and leaned in, close enough to see her pupils dilate. She smelled clean and uniquely female—no perfume, simply a mingling of her soap with the pure scent of her skin.
Desire pulsed through him, a buzzing ache starting in his groin and beating out along his veins. “I’m glad you did.”
She stared at him for a long heartbeat before lifting her chin once more, fitting her mouth to his. Sensation exploded in him, awareness of the warm suppleness of her lips, the fine bones of her hands beneath his, the incredible heat of her form along his. She kissed him, a soft brush of lips, followed by a firmer caress. He held her hands tighter and kissed her back, teasing the line of her mouth, coaxing her to open to him.
With a soft exhale, she did, the tip of her tongue slipping along his mouth. He pushed closer, hips fitted into hers, trying to assuage the throbbing below his belt. He groaned. “God, I can’t believe the way you taste.”
She arched into him, her fingers flexing below his. “Kiss me again.”
He did, dipping his tongue into her sweet depths, pressing her against the chair. His growing erection strained along his zipper, a literal ache coursing through him. The only thing that was going to soothe that was being inside her, thrusting into her wetness, feeling her close about him.
Maybe being with her would help him forget the memories haunting him—the ones aroused by Kathleen’s pregnancy and dealing with this case.
A fantasy flared to life in his brain while her tongue tangled with his—opening his fly, sliding those tight jeans of hers down just enough to bare that beautiful ass, bending her over the plush chair, driving himself inside her.
Her hands fluttered beneath his palms and she pulled her mouth free, her head falling back. “God, yes,” she moaned. “I want that too.”
Too? He blinked, some of the desire-laden fog clearing from his brain. “What do you mean?”
She smiled, eyes closed, absolute abandon on her face. “Over the chair.”
How did she know that? He released her hands and stepped back, his gaze darting to the crystal ball by the window. The matter-of-fact way she’d announced her sister was a psychic beat in his head. Unease slithered through him. “I’m sorry.”
Her lids snapped up. “For kissing me?”
He took another backwards step, his desire extinguished. A familiar chill gripped him, raising gooseflesh on his arms. “This was a bad idea. We can’t do this.”
“McMillian—”
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He needed to get out of here. He bent to gather the file and its myriad reports scattered on the floor.
“Are you even going to tell me what went wrong?” Uncertainty hovered in her voice.
He didn’t look up. “It’s just not a good idea.”
With a snap, he tapped the papers against the floor and shoved them into the folder. He glanced at her as he rose and wished he hadn’t. She worried her swollen bottom lip with her teeth, watching him, her eyes soft and bruised. He tucked the file beneath his arm and nodded.
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
Her knuckles whitened where she gripped the edge of the chair back. “It means…” Her eyes slid closed and opened, something he’d never before seen in her gaze burning in the blue depths when she looked at him. “ I want you .”
The words slammed into him, a punch to the gut, and he tried to process what she was saying. “Celia…”
“I want you and it’s driving me crazy.” She blew out a long breath and ran her hands through her hair, mussing it. “Obviously. God, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
He couldn’t either, but damn if he was going to blow this. Holding her gaze, he advanced on her to stop inches away. He dropped the folder on a side table and it slid to the floor, papers spilling across the polished wood. He wrapped his hands over hers and leaned in, close enough to see her pupils dilate. She smelled clean and uniquely female—no perfume, simply a mingling of her soap with the pure scent of her skin.
Desire pulsed through him, a buzzing ache starting in his groin and beating out along his veins. “I’m glad you did.”
She stared at him for a long heartbeat before lifting her chin once more, fitting her mouth to his. Sensation exploded in him, awareness of the warm suppleness of her lips, the fine bones of her hands beneath his, the incredible heat of her form along his. She kissed him, a soft brush of lips, followed by a firmer caress. He held her hands tighter and kissed her back, teasing the line of her mouth, coaxing her to open to him.
With a soft exhale, she did, the tip of her tongue slipping along his mouth. He pushed closer, hips fitted into hers, trying to assuage the throbbing below his belt. He groaned. “God, I can’t believe the way you taste.”
She arched into him, her fingers flexing below his. “Kiss me again.”
He did, dipping his tongue into her sweet depths, pressing her against the chair. His growing erection strained along his zipper, a literal ache coursing through him. The only thing that was going to soothe that was being inside her, thrusting into her wetness, feeling her close about him.
Maybe being with her would help him forget the memories haunting him—the ones aroused by Kathleen’s pregnancy and dealing with this case.
A fantasy flared to life in his brain while her tongue tangled with his—opening his fly, sliding those tight jeans of hers down just enough to bare that beautiful ass, bending her over the plush chair, driving himself inside her.
Her hands fluttered beneath his palms and she pulled her mouth free, her head falling back. “God, yes,” she moaned. “I want that too.”
Too? He blinked, some of the desire-laden fog clearing from his brain. “What do you mean?”
She smiled, eyes closed, absolute abandon on her face. “Over the chair.”
How did she know that? He released her hands and stepped back, his gaze darting to the crystal ball by the window. The matter-of-fact way she’d announced her sister was a psychic beat in his head. Unease slithered through him. “I’m sorry.”
Her lids snapped up. “For kissing me?”
He took another backwards step, his desire extinguished. A familiar chill gripped him, raising gooseflesh on his arms. “This was a bad idea. We can’t do this.”
“McMillian—”
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He needed to get out of here. He bent to gather the file and its myriad reports scattered on the floor.
“Are you even going to tell me what went wrong?” Uncertainty hovered in her voice.
He didn’t look up. “It’s just not a good idea.”
With a snap, he tapped the papers against the floor and shoved them into the folder. He glanced at her as he rose and wished he hadn’t. She worried her swollen bottom lip with her teeth, watching him, her eyes soft and bruised. He tucked the file beneath his arm and nodded.
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