Behind The Red Doors (Santori Stories #1)(30)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

She smiled up at him. “Won’t the D.A.’s office take the word of two eyewitnesses, one of whom is in uniform?”

He nodded to the defunct security camera in the corner. “They’ll have to, considering Sills took pains not to be captured on tape.”

“I picked up the jewelry on the floor and sorted it on the file cabinet, but I didn’t take anything out of his jacket pockets…except the diamond—it looks fine.” She smiled. “And your family ring.”

His gaze went to the file cabinet and the blue ring box.

“I…wanted to make sure it was okay, too. And it is.”

“Thanks.”

She snapped her fingers. “That’s it—Trudy!”

He frowned. “What about…Trudy?”

“When you don’t come home, won’t she call the station?”

Trudy would miss him all right, but would undoubtedly seek revenge by relieving herself in his favorite shoes. “She, um, won’t think it’s out of the ordinary if I don’t come home.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I mean…she’s pretty independent.”

She nodded, but was clearly confused.

Such a statement would be confusing to a woman like Faith, who wanted an “old-fashioned, one-man, one-woman thing.” He was quiet, loath to say anything else to enlarge his lies, even if it would make her think better of him. Then he perked up—his fabricated and flawed almost-engagement would be a buffer to keep his attraction for Faith at bay as the night wore on.

She smiled. “You must be excited about getting married.”

He doubted that any man would use the word excited, but something told him not to say that out loud. “Who wouldn’t be?”

She laughed, a sound that made his heart jerk. “Lots of men. My brother Dev, for one, although I have a feeling he’s going to change his mind one of these days.”

“Well,” he said in a tight voice, “I guess if someone like me who isn’t commitment material can change, then there’s hope for any man.”

She was quiet for few seconds, then said, “I guess so. And after seeing your family heirloom, I can understand why you didn’t want to buy a ring. I’m looking forward to appraising the piece—that is, if you still want me to.” She pressed her lips together. “Of course I’ll have it cleaned and sized for you, too.”

“Sized?”

She looked down at her hands, then up again. “I couldn’t help but notice the ring was above-average size, and if Trudy is as petite as you say, then it’ll probably need to be cut down for her finger.” She gave him a little smile and a shrug to match. “If you want to make it a complete surprise, just bring in one of her other rings and we can match the size. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

He studied the total sincerity shining in her eyes. She wanted his “proposal” to be perfect. Had she dreamed of a similar moment in her own life? She shifted her body to face him full-on, unwittingly enabling him to soak in her porcelain-doll beauty. He was struck by the irresistible urge to touch her. “Maybe I should wait until afterward. What if I have the ring sized and she says no?”

“She won’t say no,” she whispered.

He reached forward and cupped his hand around the cool skin of her neck, telling himself he would stop before things got out of hand. She rolled her shoulders in a shudder. “Carter.”

And with the throaty murmur of his name on her lips, his resolve melted. He pulled her to him for a gentle, searching kiss, all the while poised for her to retreat. When she didn’t, he groaned and slanted his mouth against hers hungrily, marveling how quickly the memory of her taste, the contours of her mouth, came rocketing back to him—sweet, warm, eager. She nipped at his tongue and lips, and his body hardened in appreciation.

He lifted his mouth long enough to take a much-needed breath, then dropped kisses along the smooth column of her neck. She moaned and arched into him, plowing her hands into his hair, guiding his mouth along her skin, downward, downward, until he reached the limitation of her V-necked blouse. He dipped his tongued into the seam of her cl**vage and was rewarded with a musical sigh. The light floral scent of the perfume she’d dabbed there sent his erection straining against its confinement. He shifted to give himself breathing room, and eased her shoulders down to the carpet. She was the picture of a woman ready to be taken—her dark hair splayed over the red carpet, her wet mouth parted, her eyes hooded and expectant, her br**sts rising and falling with each half breath. Knowing his ability to think clearly was rapidly diminishing, Carter leaned over and fingered her hair back from her face.

“Faith,” he murmured, “God knows I’ve tried to resist you, but I’m not superhuman.” He hesitated, then plunged on. “I want to make love to you. Right here, right now.”

Faith’s mind spun with reasons to share her body with him, and reasons not to. She wanted to more than she thought possible, but the man’s heart belonged to another woman. Still, this would be her one and only chance to experience Carter, to know whether they would be as good together as she’d imagined. They had unfinished business, and didn’t she deserve to know everything about the man she loved before he was lost to her forever? Besides, she would be doing Trudy a favor—after Carter got her out of his system and took his vows, no doubt he’d be faithful to the end of his marriage.

“W-what about your leg?”

He gave her a pained smile. “It’s not my leg that needs your sympathy at the moment.”

She laughed in spite of the serious implications of her decision, wondering if he realized that his ability to make her laugh made him even more appealing. Sexy, sexy man. In the security of their accidental cocoon, the outside world and the consequences seemed far, far away. Faith lifted her hand to brush his warm cheek. “Yes, Carter, make love to me. Right here, right now.”

He sank to meet her, and kissed her hard, releasing a pleased guttural sigh into her mouth. Her body flamed to life and she knew that no matter what happened, she’d rather live with regret than to miss out on being intimate with this man. His skillful tongue meshed with hers, teasing, hinting, promising. Her fingers found his shirt buttons and undid them, only to be frustrated by a T-shirt underneath.

He tore his mouth away from hers. “Let’s get rid of these clothes.” He shucked both shirts, then waited for her to do the same. Faith sat up, then slipped out of her suit jacket. Having his eyes upon her made her nervous, but brazen. She pulled the thin silk shell from her waistband and lifted it over her head. At the sight of her lacy shell-pink bra, his lips parted. She stopped, waiting. He pulled off his boots, then shed his pants and socks. His long, athletic-style briefs molded his straining erection.

Light-headed at the knowledge that his arousal was destined to fill her, she shimmied out of her skirt and panty hose, thinking if help arrived at this moment, their rescuers would simply have to wait outside until this adventure ended. When she’d removed all but her undergarments, she leaned back on her hands, arching her back for his benefit, reveling in a moment of pure feminine satisfaction that her bra and panties matched and were drop-jaw sexy. Carter emitted a low growl, then joined her on the springy carpet.

Music floated above them, soulful horns and a moody bass. They lay facing each other, rubbing sex against sex, creating a sensual friction. Heat and moisture pooled between her thighs and she longed for no barriers between their skin. He slid his hand into the waistband of her panties and massaged her hips, pressing his fingers into secret flesh. She gasped against his neck, and undulated alternately against his fingers and his monster erection. She slipped her hands inside his briefs and clutched at his h*ps in kind, then reached lower to stroke the sensitive origin of his manhood. His breathing became more ragged and he twitched in response to her touch.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, still concerned about his healing leg.

“No,” he rasped, then pushed her panties down. She wriggled out of the lacy garment, then tugged at his briefs, undressing him as gently as possible. The wound on his leg was angry and jagged, and her heart squeezed at the pain he had endured. She lifted her gaze and took in the whole of him slowly enough to burn the impression into her mind. Clothed, Carter was an impressive physical specimen, but nak*d… She sighed in appreciation and curled her fingers around his thick, silky sex. He groaned like a wounded man, and oozed warm, slick fluid. “Go slow, Faith—I can’t stand this much longer.”

When he stroked the dark nest at the juncture of her thighs, she parted her knees shamelessly. He dipped his finger into her wet folds and murmured his pleasure at her readiness. She tensed at the thrilling currents that made her limbs loose and her heart gallop. He found the tiny lever of her desire and tormented it with his fingers until she clutched at his back. A delicious, climbing warmth collected in her muscles. She moaned as a wave of desire began to overtake her. He nipped at her ear and coaxed her to a shuddering cli**x against his hand.

“Carter, yes…yes…Carter.” She loved him for making her feel so abandoned.

She loved him, period.

She writhed against him, and he allowed her to recover slowly, kissing her neck and shoulders. Then he reached for his pants and removed a condom from his wallet. Even through her sensual haze, the irony of the foil packet being the same brand of which she still had a full box was not lost on her. He sheathed himself, then rolled onto his back, taking her with him to straddle his waist. Nervousness flashed through her that she could accommodate him satisfactorily, that she could please him as much as he’d pleased her. She dragged her fingernails down his chest, toying with his dark, flat n**ples and the patch of black hair that narrowed before traveling over his flat stomach.