Mine to Entice Page 11

  He slipped a hand between them and touched the tender nerve center of her desire, taking her over the edge. Kate cried out wildly as her climax hit her with the power of an explosion from within. She arched over him, hands slipping on his sweat-slicked chest, her muscles clenching around his erection with a force that made the pleasure go on and on and on.

  When Jericho’s climax hit him, she wrapped her arms around him and thrust herself, hard to the hilt, giving her a hot rush of fulfillment.

  Exhausted, she sank down onto his chest, her muscles trembling and relaxing one group at a time. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs. Her heart was galloping like a racehorse. Feeling dazed, she raised her head and somehow found the strength to smile.

  “Wow,” he said.

  Now that the heated passion was spent, color flooded her cheeks at the wanton way she had taken him. Unable to meet his eyes, she turned her face away from him.

  “Oh, no,” he said softly, skimming his fingertips along her jaw. “I can feel your heart beat, sweet Kate. It’s wonderful.”

  “Jericho, about last night…”

  “You wanted to shock me?”

  “Yes, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “I’m sorry I ran out on you. It was a reaction to my own boldness.”

  “I come on strong. I know I do. It’s always been one of my flaws. When I want something, I tend to go overboard.”

  “Ambition and desire are not flaws.”

  “No, not in what they do for you. But when you can’t be patient, it could get scary.”

  “I was scared.”

  “Of me?”

  “Of the passion. It was very overwhelming.”

  “You looked so beautiful. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  “I’m still afraid.”

  “Is that why you fought what your body so desperately wanted?”

  “Yes.”

  “Kate, it’s a natural thing, sex. Most people don’t even think about it.”

  “Maybe I think too much then because I do think about it. It might have been easy for you, Jericho. Your mother and father probably pushed you forward, made you experience life, even encouraged it.”

  “Yours didn’t?”

  “Mine couldn’t figure me out. They didn’t know who I was. Oh, they loved me very much, but they didn’t know what to do with me. They acquiesced to everything without any advice. My parents are uncomplicated, simple people who did the best they could.”

  “That made you a loner?”

  “It made me self-reliant and I like that. Other people give me advice, but I go with what I think.”

  “What about sex?”

  “I don’t have much experience there.”

  “Hmm. You could have fooled me.”

  “When I touched myself in front of you, it made me feel…”

  “Vulnerable?”

  “Yes. I guess that’s why I got spooked. I realized that if I had to lower my barriers that much, just to show you how bold I was, what would it be like to allow you to touch me, slide into my body.”

  “But you wanted that. I could see it on your face.”

  “I did and it made me angry when you said I was repressed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I knew it was true and I wanted to prove you wrong.”

  “You want to explore me, Kate? Explore away. If your scientist mind wants to push me to my limits and see what happens, hell, I’m there.”

  “You push me harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “But it makes you hot when I push,” he pointed out. “I can sense it. Pushing you is the only way to get you there. By pushing you to that pinnacle, you can soar, Kate, just the way you want to. Let all of your inhibitions go.”

  It was hard to structure what she wanted to say with his eyes deep and penetrating, breaking her concentration. She closed her eyes to gain her composure. “The ones I repress.”

  “Yes.”

  “But I’ve never been aggressive.”

  “I’ve heard differently. When you’re pressed to the wall, you snarl like a she-wolf. So don’t give me that crap.”

  She blinked at him. No one had ever talked to her like this. Maybe she’d been too pampered and indulged. She liked that he didn’t pull his words to save her embarrassment, but to make her think harder.

  “Don’t give me that innocent look. You can’t hide from me. I can see right into you.”

  “I know you can. It makes me crazy the way your eyes seem to take in everything.” Intrigued, the fear she felt at revealing herself to him paled in comparison to her need to know, in words, what he saw. “Tell me what you see.”

  “Something volatile. Hot, volcanic and primal. It draws me mercilessly. Makes me insane and restless.”

  The sound of that restless quality to his voice made her edgy. She moved against him to feel the texture of his skin sliding over hers. She wanted to crawl inside him. “How hard are you going to push?”

  “Hard,” he said, his lips playing over her cheekbone. “I want to see how far you’ll go.”

  “You want me to surrender. It goes both ways. I need a compromise.”

  “What compromise?”

  “You tell me why you really pretended not to want me for…how long?”

  “Since the moment I met you. I was afraid that I couldn’t let go.”

  “You don’t have to. Not yet.”

  “No. Not yet.”

  He took her hand and guided it to his new erection. “Being with you turns me on so much that I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I just want to be inside you.”

  “Jericho,” she said softly as she caressed his face, her hands sliding down the strong column of his throat, over the heavy pectoral muscles, to his waist. She pushed at his shoulders until he was beneath her.

  As she accepted him into her body, she tried not to want more, but she did. She wanted to talk to him, to see the fire in his eyes when he spoke about his work, his dedication to it. She wanted so much more than his body, but unfortunately, that’s all she’d bargained for. That and a souvenir.

  10

  IT WAS STILL DARK when Kate woke. The sound of soft piano music came from the living room.

  She got out of bed. It had taken them time, but they’d finally moved to her room. She tripped over her jeans and a metallic clinking made her bend down. She reached into the pocket and pulled out his cuff links.

  She’d totally forgotten about them. She slipped them into the pocket of her silky robe and went into the living room.

  He was at the piano, his fingers moving slowly, caressing the keys. His chest was bare, the faded denim jeans molding to his hips and long legs. His bare feet pressed the pedals and caused a little quiver to shudder through her. His head was tipped back, his eyes closed and from his fingers flowed the whispered strains of a haunting, beautiful sound.

  She watched as he played, her eyes centering on his long-fingered hands, so big and competent.

  The baby grand had been a gift to herself. It had to be hauled up to her apartment, a major undertaking, but she’d wanted the gleaming instrument. It symbolized beauty and artistry. Things that were lacking in the stark world of forensic science. It was her job and she did it well, enjoying the sheer mind power it took to unlock the mysteries of crime. But there was another side to her.

  The side of grace and beauty. The hunger to explore and develop something that had never been encouraged as she’d grown. Teachers had loved her mind and had pooh-poohed her penchant for music. But Kate had never let it go. Hence, the baby grand and the music sitting on it.

  It touched something inside her to see Jericho moving the white keys and bringing forth from the instrument sheer beauty, something she could only strive to do.

  Kate tucked her hands into the pockets of her robe, fingering the cuff links with her right hand, the metal warming to her touch.

  Jericho made no move to acknowledge
her presence, even when she sat beside him on the piano bench. He went on playing like a man in a trance, his long fingers stroking the keys with the care of a lover. The song rose and fell, melodies twining around one another, wrapping around Kate and taking her into another world, a world of stark poignancy and thundering emotion. Every note swelled with longing. A lingering, hushed beauty filled the silences in between.

  This was what hid behind the other Jericho, the man with the formidable determined ambition and the aura of danger—loneliness, beauty, artistry. The realization struck a chord deep within her, and she closed her eyes against the surprise. How many other layers were there? How many Jerichos? Which one was at the core of the man? Which one held his heart?

  She closed her mind to the questions and laid her head against his shoulder, too overwhelmed by feelings to think. Always a very bad sign for her. She had held herself in tight check for a long, long time against emotions that had tried to surface. But now, with no defenses against him, she was unable to fight. The feelings rushed up through her chest to her throat and clogged there in a hard lump. The tears came sliding down her face, spiking her lashes and dampening her cheeks.

  Jericho’s hands slowed on the keyboard as the piece softened to its close. His fingers crept down to touch the final note, a low minor chord that vibrated and hung in the air like the echo of a voice from the dark past.

  “That was beautiful.”

  “Do you cry at the opera, too?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been.”

  “We’ll have to remedy that.”

  “You play so well.”

  “My mother insisted.”

  Even though he settled his fingers on the piano keys once again and started to play something slow and bluesy, she caught the caustic note in his voice. Slowly she straightened away from him, her gaze sharp and direct. “What do you mean?”

  He continued to play until Kate cupped his chin and turned him toward her. He smiled without humor. “Only that it was the best education for me and that included music. I don’t have anything against my mother. She’s a delightful woman. It’s the system that bothers me.”

  “The injustice of it?”

  He turned back to the keys. “You are very perceptive, Kate. Do you want to know the boring details of why I became a prosecutor? What formulated my insatiable pursuit of justice?”

  “Yes. If you want to tell me, and I won’t find anything about you boring at all.”

  “A lot of people would call me cold, calculating and ruthless.” He held up his hand. “Don’t deny it, Kate. I believe you’ve pointed that out to me just recently when I blocked your attempt at a competency hearing for Mr. Hamilton.”

  “Everyone has their flaws, Jericho.”

  “Touché, Kate. You were right. My education was carefully thought out and faultlessly applied. I saw inequities even at the upstanding school where I was a student.”

  “That’s the way of society. The haves and have-nots.”

  “That’s true. But our society is also based on independent ingenuity and a have-not can become a have with a good old-fashioned work ethic.”

  “There was such a person in your school?”

  “There was. Andrew Matheson.”

  “The pianist?”

  “One and the same. You see, Andrew’s parents could barely afford to send him to the posh school, but somehow they did it. There was a scholarship, a really fat one. Money, I didn’t need, but I was entered in the contest and I came in first.”

  “Let me guess. Andrew was better than you.”

  “Ten times. Music wasn’t something that I intended to pursue. It was something I enjoyed, more of a hobby.”

  “But even if you had decided to pursue music, you would have turned down the scholarship.”

  He turned to look at her, his dark eyes glittering in the darkness. “That you said that makes me so glad that I try every day to be a better man.”

  “You did turn it down, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did. Andrew got it and rightly so, but the inequity stayed with me, Kate. I wanted to be able to right wrongs when I saw them.”

  “So you left your uncle’s law firm because his ethics were questionable.”

  “They were. I couldn’t stand it another day. My family was surprised, but they have always supported my decision and becoming a prosecutor could be a step toward public office.”

  “So in their eyes, it was an admirable change.”

  “I wouldn’t have cared if it was. It was what I was going to do.”

  “Does running for D.A. serve some other kind of need for righting wrongs?”

  “No. Not really. It does give me more power and I can prosecute the cases I feel Roth sometimes shies away from because he’s afraid he can’t win and it’ll look bad for the office.”

  “You don’t care about that.”

  “No. I don’t give a damn about that. I fight the good fight whatever it takes.”

  “What about Danny?”

  Jericho turned on the bench and pulled Kate closer, cupping her face. “I’m an advocate for Mrs. LePlante. She has no one to speak for her. It’s my job to get justice for her. If Danny took that woman’s life, I’ll make sure that he pays for it. It’s not up to me to make that decision. A jury of his peers will do that. It’s only up to me to present the evidence to them and convince them beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did it.”

  “Do you believe that he did it?”

  “I don’t speculate, Kate. I can only look at the evidence we have now and go forward with that information.”

  “But what about Ken Mitchell?”

  “I need proof, Kate.”

  Kate laid her head on Jericho’s chest and sighed. “Then I’ll find it somehow.”

  “Legally, Kate.”

  She nodded. “Legally. I promise.”

  “There’s something I want to ask you.”

  Kate raised her head. “What?”

  “I want you to come with me to my first fund-raiser.”

  “Are you sure about that? I don’t think I’m at the top of the Mitchells’ list as most favorite person.”

  “I don’t give a damn what they think.”

  “You should Jericho. They’ll give a lot of money to your campaign.”

  “I’m small potatoes compared to their backing of Roth for the Senate. I think they expect him to go all the way.”

  “All the way?”

  “To the presidency.”

  “So you really want me at this shindig?”

  “Yes, I really want you.”

  “Then I’ll go.” She turned to the piano and began to play chopsticks. “What brought you out here in the middle of the night?”

  “I was trying to keep my hands off of you.”

  “Oh. I guess that’s a moot point now since I’m awake.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  He grasped her by the waist and lifted her up on the piano, then followed her there. Untying the belt of her robe, he parted the silky folds and spread them across the dark surface of the black wood. She looked like a delicate pink flower on black velvet.

  Her hips heaved and bucked when he put his mouth to her. He draped her legs over his shoulders, bracing his hands on the polished top of the piano, he gave her something strong and firm to push against.

  With his mouth and tongue he enticed her toward her pleasure, letting it unfold, over and over, blossoming sweeter and hotter.

  He wanted her to experience her own vulnerability because she wouldn’t allow it. That’s why Kate was so afraid of letting go. Feelings scared her and he knew it. She needed to soar free from those limits if ever she was to experience the deepest and most satisfying experience he could give her.

  Not yet. She still resisted. Whether it was a failure on his part or hers, he wasn’t sure. But he strove to teach her that she was safe with him. That once setting her free and letting her soar, he would be there to catch her when she fell into glorious sensations.
>
  He trapped her hips with his hands and closed his mouth over her sweet bud, sucking, sucking until her slender, strong body flexed and arched. Her hips jerked against his mouth, but he was relentless. She cried out wildly as she exploded, shuddering as waves of pleasure rocked through her.

  She slid off the piano, dragging him with her. She shrugged out of her gown and pressed her hands to the curves of his chest, smoothing frantically down his body, undoing his jeans, she yanked them down.

  Her mouth was on him in one scalding, hot slide. He jerked hard, his hands coming down onto the keys of the piano making a discordant sound.

  Her hot mouth paid no heed to the noise. She sucked at him until he thought he would lose his mind.

  She brought him to the brink of explosion and when he realized that was her intent, he grabbed her upper arms and dragged her away.

  “Jericho, I want you…”

  “No, I want to be inside you.”

  He swung her up into his arms and kicked his jeans out of his way. In the bedroom, he dropped her on the bed and followed her down.

  She yanked him close. “Jericho, please.”

  He sheathed himself and gave her exactly what she wanted, a deep, thrusting pace that stroked every inch of her swollen, aching sex, to her very depths. He curved over her, the hard, thick muscles of his shoulders firm and tight, his face fixed and focused. Her breath hissed out of her with each hard thrust of his body. All they wanted was the exquisite pace, the driving rhythm. Quick and deep and frantic and insistent, until they both exploded.

  He collapsed and draped himself over her, trembling. “My God,” he said. “If it’s like this with you every time, I’ll be dead in a week.”

  She caressed his face. “But what a way to go.”

  He grinned at her and then glanced at the clock. “It’s almost time to get up and get ready for work. I’ll have to leave.”

  Kate pouted. “Right. You don’t have any clothes here. Next time, bring clothes.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, saluting.