SEVENTEEN
Earlier, Sean had made reservations at the Park Central Hotel in midtown, near both Central Park and Times Square. Lucy was tired and didn’t talk as he drove them, wrapped up in the case notes she’d read and trying to figure out what was so strange about the crime scenes. Sean had his hands full maneuvering the car through the hordes of people in the theater district.
She appreciated Sean’s faith in her, but truly didn’t want him to continue pushing her credentials. It made her uneasy, and reminded her that her credentials weren’t good enough for the FBI. She needed to put that behind her and decide what was next.
It was after eleven at night when they finally checked into their room. Lucy walked in and saw a table set with covered dishes and wine. She dropped her bag, walked over, and lifted the covers from the plates. There were sandwiches, cheese and crackers, and chocolate mousse stored on ice. There was even a bottle of chardonnay in a wine bucket.
“You ordered all this?” she asked.
“I knew you wouldn’t want to sit at a restaurant after the day we’ve had, and we missed dinner. It’s just sandwiches and stuff, but I for one can’t sleep if I’m hungry.”
All her frustrations disappeared. Sean truly thought of everything—she would have thought about food after she went to bed and would have slept on an empty stomach.
“Hey, Luce, what’s wrong? You were so quiet in the car.”
She shook her head and smiled. “I was upset with you. Now, it doesn’t seem important.”
“It is important, because it mattered to you. What did I do?”
“It’s nothing—I just—I’m not going to be in the FBI. You made it hard for me to explain that, so now I feel like I am lying to Agent Madeaux. After all your praise about my test scores and my master’s, I couldn’t very well say, ‘Oh, but I wasn’t accepted after all.’ ”
“Noah didn’t tell her—”
“Noah doesn’t know. No one does, except you.”
Sean cleared his throat. “I, uh, meant to tell you earlier, but then there wasn’t a good time, and I convinced myself that I’d wait until he had answers.”
“You told Noah?”
“No. I talked to Hans Vigo.”
Lucy sat heavily on the edge of the bed, feeling hollow again, not wanting to believe Sean had discussed the matter with Hans. “Why?”
He sat next to her and made her look at him. “Because something’s not right about your application denial, and Hans is the best person to find out what happened.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that. I don’t want anybody’s help. If I can’t get in on my own, I don’t want to be an agent.”
“Hans is not going to get you in, but you will want to appeal this decision.”
“Don’t tell me what I want!”
“Lucy, you need to know what this is all about.”
“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to know.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because it changes nothing. And it will simply confirm what I already do know: that my past will never go away. I don’t want to be told that I’m damaged or emotionally unstable.”
“You are neither, Lucy,” Sean said emphatically. “Don’t even say it.”
“It doesn’t matter if I am or not. That’s how people see me.”
“No they don’t. Hans said—” He stopped.
Lucy looked him in the eye, trying to keep her face calm, but her heart was pounding. She didn’t like people manipulating her, even if they did it for all the right reasons.
Sean simply said, “You may be considered too controversial.”
Lucy started laughing. “Controversial?”
“Am I missing something?”
She smiled and put a hand to her mouth to hold back another laugh. “I guess I had never considered that. I’ve been sure since I got the letter that they thought I was damaged goods.”
“No one sees you as a victim, Lucy.”
She continued. “Or that I killed my rapist and showed no remorse.”
Sean frowned. “I don’t understand.”
But she didn’t elaborate. “Or maybe they thought I was flighty because I had three vastly different internships over three years, but no real job. For about five minutes I cast blame on Kate, because if anyone was controversial in the FBI during the last decade, it was my sister-in-law.
“But Sean, why doesn’t matter. I can find a hundred reasons to justify the panel’s decision. It’s still binding.”
“You should appeal.”
“I didn’t think you really wanted me to be an FBI agent.”
Sean wanted to explain himself, but didn’t know how he could without sounding sappy or stupid. “You’re right that I’m not a big fan of the FBI, but there are a few good agents out there. I’d much rather you come work for me, because you’re good.”
Lucy shook her head. “Sean, I’m not working for you and Patrick.”
“Your name’s already on the door,” he said, hopeful.
She smiled and continued to shake her head.
“I thought it was a long shot. But seriously, you should appeal because you want it. You shouldn’t have to settle for anything less than your dream.”
Lucy threw her arms around Sean in a rare initiation of physical affection. It startled him, and they fell backward onto the bed. She kissed him. “You win.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I like my prize.”
“I’ll think more about appealing. But if Hans calls you back, I want to talk to him. I understand why you called him. You have an overwhelming need to fix things.”
“I can’t stand unfairness.”
“Life isn’t fair.”
“That’s why when I can do something, I do it. I never intended to go behind your back, but I’d never seen you so defeated. It broke my heart.”
Lucy put her hand on Sean’s chest, her touch making his pulse quicken. He loved this woman so much, but she would bolt if he told her. He knew she loved him, too; she just hadn’t admitted it to him, or to herself.
One day at a time, Sean.
Lucy would give her all to save the innocent. But in her quest for justice, would she keep anything for herself?
Maybe that’s where he came in. When she had nothing left, she could fill up on him. Sean wanted so desperately for Lucy to see that she needed him, not because he was a big, strong male and she was a weak female who needed a man—far from it. She needed him because he could be her anchor; he needed her because she gave him purpose and meaning he’d never had before.
He held her face in his hands. “You give to everyone, and you need to take sometimes. Take from me. Anything you need, anything you want, is yours.”
She kissed him. It wasn’t the tentative kiss he’d learned to expect from her. He didn’t need to coax out her hidden passions; this kiss was bold and seductive. A full-body kiss, her chest pressed against his, one of her legs between his, her hands on his head, his face, her touch setting him on fire.
She planted her knees on the bed and sat up, pulling off her sweater, revealing her round breasts barely contained in a sexy, black lace demi-cup bra.
He pulled off his T-shirt and stretched up to kiss her between her breasts. She smelled both spicy and flowery, and he breathed in her skin, intoxicated. His hands moved over her smooth back. He unclasped her bra with one hand, then slowly eased it down.
She was gorgeous. And all his.
Lucy gasped when the cool air hit her breasts, and then Sean’s mouth claimed one and his hand sought out the other. She closed her eyes, her body responding to the conflicting sensations—wet and dry; soft and rough; hot and hotter.
Sean was passionate in everything he did—from driving to work to play. He did nothing halfway, and that included making love. His intensity and physical awareness—of both his own body and hers—was exhilarating and irresistible. But also terrifying. She’d never been so completely explored, as if Sean needed to memorize every cell in her body.
Sean rose from the bed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from sliding to the floor. He kissed her, his mouth hot and greedy, as if she were his lifeline. He turned them around and dropped her to the bed, her legs hanging off the edge. “You’re beautiful.”
He smiled and knelt on the floor. He kissed her stomach while he slowly unzipped her jeans. Then he rolled them off her hips and pulled them down to the floor while his mouth followed, placing kisses one by one down the outside of her thigh. He kissed her feet, and Lucy was startled at the jolt of lust she felt when he licked her ankles. It was the anticipation, his slow-moving mouth, his hands moving up and down her legs, never stopping.
She hadn’t realized until that moment that she’d missed him. They’d had ten days alone, almost like a honeymoon, and then the last month had spent little time together. And even when they had been together, they had not been alone. This intimacy was new to her, this need for physical contact. She hadn’t known this was what she’d been missing, but she’d never before craved a man the way she did Sean.
As if sensing the shift inside her, from romance to passion, Sean kissed the inside of her thighs, her legs spreading on their own. His hands reached under her and held her butt, his fingers kneading. She was capable of no conscious thought, eager to explore Sean as he explored her. Her hands fisted in the comforter when Sean blew kisses over the flesh he’d just licked. When his tongue flickered over her sweet spot, she drew in her breath. She couldn’t exhale, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
She went from simmer to boil so fast she didn’t have time to bite back a cry as her orgasm exploded.
Sean nibbled her inner thighs, but his kisses were hotter, his hands moving up her sides as his mouth covered her stomach, kissing her ribs, her breasts, her neck, and suddenly he devoured her mouth again, hot and focused. His rock-hard body pressed against her, quivering with restraint, and his hands reached behind her neck, his fingers entwined with her long, thick hair.
Her hands grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.
“Luce,” he whispered on a hot breath. “I can’t get enough of you. I’ve missed you this week. God, I’ve missed you.” He kissed her jawline, then her neck, his tongue and mouth claiming every inch of her flesh as they edged their way to the nape of her neck. He licked the tender hollow spot at her throat, sending another jolt of electric-charged desire through her body. He chuckled softly.
“You sound pleased with yourself,” she said, her voice sounding nothing like her.
“I am. With me. With you. Us.” He drew her earlobe into his mouth and nibbled. He touched her everywhere, his talented fingers knowing exactly which muscle to massage hard, which to skim, which to kiss.
She wanted to explore Sean, but his skin was hot and flushed and he already had his pants off. When had that happened? She couldn’t remember. She felt drunk, even without drinking any wine.
He reached down to the floor and it wasn’t until he pulled his wallet out of his jeans that she realized what he was doing. She had never paid much attention when he’d put on a condom in the past. It had embarrassed her a bit; she didn’t know why, didn’t want to think about it. Now she found herself watching, intrigued, and feeling playful. She reached out and put her hands on his as he rolled the condom on.
Why was he shaking? He was always so confident in bed, so positive he could make her happy, and he did. Was he nervous?
Sean had made her more comfortable with sex than the two partners who had come before him. She was emboldened as she pushed his hands away and finished putting on the condom. She ran her fingers lightly over the base of his quivering penis, so solid, but covered in soft, warm skin.
She surprised herself again when she sat up and kissed the tip.
“You do that and I’m going to completely lose it,” he said through clenched teeth.
He urged her back down on the bed, his mouth open and seeking hers. He kissed her as if it were the last time. His penis touched her at just the right spot, as if it had a mind of its own. He thrust into her quickly and she gasped from the sudden invasion. He held himself still, his hands clasped in hers, a bead of sweat dripping from his chest to hers.
She’d always been on top, more comfortable when she was in control. She hesitated, just a fraction, but Sean was so in tune with her body and emotions that he knew what she had thought.
He whispered in her ear, “Just say the word, Luce. I’m yours, any way you want.”
She kissed him hard, his understanding and faith in her overwhelming and so appreciated.
“Just like this,” she managed to say.
As he started to move within her, slowly at first, the wonderful wave Lucy was becoming familiar with every time she and Sean were together grew quickly. They developed a rhythm that was both new and familiar; they were still exploring, but amazingly perceptive as they each anticipated the changes within the other.
Sean knew he wasn’t going to last. Not with Lucy beneath him for the first time, the trust and faith she’d placed in him as overpowering as the sexual combustibility burning between them. She didn’t know or understand what her touch, her scent, her body did to him. He could never get enough of her, never wanted to get enough. He could make love to her daily and enjoy it each and every time. She was becoming bolder; he pictured her lips on his cock and he couldn’t hold back. Didn’t want to.
“Lucy,” he breathed into her neck, then he stretched up and stared at her glowing face, her eyes closed, her mouth open, her skin flushed as her body kept pace with his increased tempo. He groaned as his orgasm hit, wishing he could have held off until Lucy was done, but she had completely undone him. He rocked against her, bringing her to her peak, watching as her chest rose and her back arched. Her hands squeezed his ass so hard it would have hurt if it didn’t feel so extraordinarily good.
Her body froze and she let out a quiet cry as her pleasure poured through her. Then, simultaneously, every one of her muscles relaxed.
Sean collapsed onto his back, pulling her with him, holding her for a long minute as she basked in her femininity and power.
“You are amazing,” he said before realizing the words were out of his mouth.
“So are you,” she said with a smile.
He kissed her. Then again. He could make love to her all night. He wanted to.
“We need to eat. And sleep.”
“We do,” she agreed, but made no move to get up.
He kissed her again. “Stay.”
“I couldn’t move if I wanted.”
He smiled and reluctantly rose from the bed. He walked to the bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror.
“Sean Rogan, you are hopelessly, irrevocably, in love.”
He wanted to tell her. But he didn’t want to scare her. Lucy wanted slow and steady. He would be slow and steady.
For now.
He finished in the bathroom, and returned to find Lucy sitting on the edge of the bed in his T-shirt eating one of the sandwiches.
“I thought I said don’t move.”
“I worked up an appetite.”
Sean found his boxers on the floor and stepped into them, then sat next to Lucy and grabbed a sandwich.
“This doesn’t count as our weekend away,” Sean said, reiterating what he’d told her last night.
“It doesn’t?” Lucy feigned ignorance.
“Nope. We’ll call this a prequel.”
She sipped her wine with a smile. “Fine by me.”