Killer passion, p.3
Killer Passion, page 3
Alicia put her napkin back on the table, and his zipper went tight, his pulse pounding beneath his fly. She’d left lipstick patterns on her napkin.
Griffin glanced at her mouth, where only a hint of color remained. He wanted those marks on his body. He wanted her to brand him.
He paid the bill, fighting the urge to snatch her napkin when she wasn’t looking and tuck it in his pocket, which told him how close he was to losing his sexual sanity. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
“Thank you. I’m in the third block.”
“Oh, yeah? So am I.”
“Really? You’re staying at the resort?”
“I checked in a few hours ago.” Determined to exorcise the sexual demons, he concentrated on his job. “I arrived in the Pacific two days ago, and I’ve been traveling between American Samoa, Vanuatu, Tonga and Fiji.”
“So you’re working directly with all four nations?”
“No, just Fiji. They requested BAU services, and we go where we’re invited, whether on U.S. or foreign soil. But either way, the other nations are cooperating with the investigation, trying to help however they can.” He wasn’t the only BAU investigator on the case, but he was the only on-site consultant. The rest of his team was in the States, and he conversed with them through secure phone, fax and e-mail communication. “This is my home base for now.”
She made a grand gesture. “You certainly can’t beat the setting.”
He agreed. “Fiji has its charm.” As they strolled beneath foliage-draped walkways, they passed the entrance to a tropical garden, a gated swimming pool and softly lit hot tub.
In the distance, music from the disco pounded into the night, and Griffin turned his ear toward the sound. He’d already interviewed the DJ, the bartenders, the cocktail waitresses and the bouncer who’d been on duty last night. The bouncer had provided the most detailed statement. He’d noticed the victims getting naughty on the dance floor, but he didn’t recall anyone watching them. Of course the offender would have behaved in a quiet manner, and the bouncer had been keeping his eye out for rowdy patrons.
The closer Griffin and Alicia got to their destination, the less audible the disco became. Finally, the music faded, drifting into what seemed like nothingness.
They approached a two-story building constructed from indigenous timber. It looked identical to the other hotel blocks. “What floor?”
She pointed to the second story.
“Me, too,” he commented, escorting her to the stairwell. The Siga Resort didn’t have elevators, but few hotels in Fiji did.
They continued, and when she told him her room number, his zipper went tight all over again.
“I’m right next door,” he said.
“Oh, my.” She looked up at him. “How strange is that?”
“Maybe it isn’t strange. Maybe the hotel manager put me next to you purposely.”
“Why would he do that?”
“To make it easier to give us preferential treatment.”
She considered his response. “To deliver complementary fruit baskets? To put extra chocolates on our beds?”
“The guest who found the bodies and the agent profiling the killer? Wouldn’t you be giving us freebies? Wouldn’t you instruct your staff to treat us like VIPs?”
“I suppose I would. But the hotel giving me special attention isn’t good for my job.”
“It’s not good for mine, either.”
“I know, but I’m rating the resort. And I’m supposed to do it impartially.”
“Then maybe you should tell the manager who you are. That you work for the Secret Traveler.”
“That would make him treat me like even more of a VIP.”
“You’re visible either way. You’ve already been on the news, and your name is going to appear in the paper for a while. A sentence here, a sentence there. Until the press dies down, you can’t do much to escape it.”
“That doesn’t make me feel very secure.”
“It’ll be okay.” Without thinking, he reached out and tugged playfully on her hair. “You’ve got Agent McSafety next door.”
That was all it took. One tug. One flirtatious gesture. Suddenly they were staring at each other. The air between them grew impossibly thick. He took his hand away, but the damage had already been done. Desire traveled through his veins, lightning fast and quicksilver hot.
“I’ll bet you’ve done it before,” she said.
“Done what?”
“Had sex with a stranger.”
He figured she was nervous again or she wouldn’t have brought up her fantasy. But he couldn’t save her. He was nervous, too. He was back to being fixated on her mouth.
“You have, haven’t you, Griffin?”
He fought the urge to move closer, to kiss her. “No.”
“You haven’t? Not even before you were FBI?”
His interest in her mouth intensified, taking a dangerous turn. Would she put her head on his lap and pleasure him in that way? Would she let him do it to her? “I was a state trooper before I was FBI.”
“A peace officer who didn’t get himself a quick piece now and then?” A shaky smile, an anxiety-ridden curve of those sexy lips. “Sorry, bad joke.” Her gaze locked curiously on to his. “I thought most men have done the one-night thing.”
He was half-hard and on the verge of getting harder. “I guess you thought wrong.”
“I guess I did.” She fanned her hands in front of her face. “Is it muggy out here or is it just me?”
“Our rooms are air-conditioned. Maybe we should go inside.”
“Maybe we should. My clothes are sticking to my skin.”
“Mine, too.” This was the strangest, most oddly arousing conversation he’d ever had. They were talking about sex between strangers, but neither invited the other to partake in what was fast becoming a mutual fantasy.
She removed her keycard from her purse, and he took his out of his pocket, preparing to part ways.
“Sleep tight,” he told her.
“You, too.”
He waited for her to go first. She did, fumbling with the lock.
“Do you need some help?”
“No, I can…” She fumbled again, unable to turn the light from red to green. She tried a few more times. “There.” She got it, pushing open the door.
They said goodbye once more, and she glanced back to look at him, quite longingly, before she went inside.
Griffin used the keycard to his lock. The light turned green immediately. He went into the empty room, removed his jacket and unholstered his gun.
Then he glanced over and realized that his room was connected to Alicia’s from inside with double doors, one on his side and one on hers, designed for family or friends who wanted to share their accommodations.
Now she seemed even closer than before. All they had to do was unlock both doors to be together.
So what the hell was he waiting for? It wasn’t as if he was going to compromise the case by sleeping with her.
No, but screwing around wasn’t in his nature, either. He wanted Alicia to make the first move, for her to encourage him to sweep her into frenzied passion.
Griffin had been lovingly married for fifteen years, and heart-wrenchingly widowed for two. “Wham, bam, I’ll do you fast and dirty, ma’am,” wasn’t part of his vocabulary. Yet that was how he wanted it to happen with Alicia.
He glanced down at his fly and cursed. By now he was raging hard.
Hungry for a woman he barely knew.
Alicia gazed at the door that connected her room to Griffin’s. Some independent woman she was. This was her chance to fulfill her fantasy, to sleep with a stranger, a G-man, no less, and she’d let him slip through her fingers.
Maybe she could call him and invite him over for a nightcap. That would be a good excuse, wouldn’t it? She had a minibar in her room. Of course he probably had one in his, too. If he was hankering for a drink, he could pour himself a quick, stiff belt.
Yes, but that wasn’t the point. She was trying to find a clever way of getting him into her room and into her bed.
He wanted her, didn’t he? It sure seemed as if he did, especially when he’d touched her hair, when electricity had zinged between them. Even those haunted eyes of his had turned hungry.
She could imagine him devouring her right up.
So do it, she told herself. Call his room. Or his cell phone. The number was on the card he’d given her this morning.
A cop turned FBI agent who’d never had a one-night stand. Alicia almost felt as if she were corrupting him.
But dang it, she needed this affair, her first fling, her first rite of passage. She needed to prove that she was wild and free.
She sat on the edge of an ornately carved chair and glanced around. The Siga Resort had been designed for tropical trysts. The bed was big enough for an orgy and the veranda showcased a moonlit sea. But best of all were the complimentary condoms in the bathroom.
Alicia dug Griffin’s card out of the desk drawer where she’d stashed it and dialed his cell phone. One. Two. Three. She counted the rings, then his voice came on the line.
“Agent Malone.”
Her breath rushed out. “Hi. It’s me. The girl next door. I’m, um…” At a loss for words, she thought. Where was her chattiness when she needed it? “I was wondering if you wanted to come over and have a nightcap…or something.”
He didn’t hesitate. “The ‘or something’ sounds good.”
“It does?” Warm chills slid down her spine. Apparently he knew exactly what she was up to.
“Unlock the inside door,” he said.
“You, too.”
“I will.” His tone was deep, rough, perilously sexy. “Should I bring the cuffs?”
Oh, my God. What had she gotten herself into? “I don’t—”
“I’m teasing you, Alicia.”
“Oh, okay.” Now she didn’t know who was the corrupter and who was the corruptee. He was probably going to bend her every which way but loose. “I just need a second to get ready.”
They ended the call, and she dashed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and fluff her hair. She removed her shoes, too, hoping to look more casual, more relaxed.
How about a quick spray of perfume? Or would that be too obvious? Would the fragrance lay heavy in the air? No, it would be fine, she thought, if she didn’t overdo it. She used her favorite scent and waved her arms, trying to keep the floral aroma light and breezy.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the glass. She looked like a pelican preparing for flight. She dropped her arms and smoothed the front of her dress, tugging the neckline so it revealed a hint of cleavage.
Think Bond girl, she told herself. Sleek, sophisticated.
Something was missing. Lipstick, she decided. She needed to refresh the racy red color. She even pumped it up a bit, adding a silvery dot of gloss for shimmer and shine.
Alicia returned to the bedroom and heard the click of Griffin’s inside door. The man had perfect timing. She unlocked and opened hers, too.
Boom!
There they were, face-to-face, with an illicit promise between them. Although he’d removed his jacket, his crisp white shirt, black trousers and leather loafers remained. His hair looked as if he’d carelessly run his hands through it, but the spiky brown strands didn’t deter from his special-agent vibe. He still had it, all the way.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you.” She stepped back so he could cross the threshold and enter her room. “Do you want that drink, by any chance?” Something to slow the moment down, she thought. Her heart was racing so fast, so furiously.
“I just want you.”
Nerve endings exploded. She pitched forward, and he grasped her hips and pulled her flush against him. He had a big, blasting erection. She felt it through his pants.
Still dizzy, still reeling from her own pounding heart, she flung her arms around his neck, preparing to be kissed.
And kissed she was.
Alicia’s G-man nearly swallowed her whole. His tongue invaded her mouth, mimicking the driving motion of lovemaking. She returned his ardent fervor, and they got passionately sloppy, Frenching like teenagers in the back of a car.
But she didn’t care. Nothing had ever felt so good, so forbidden, so wrongly right.
He backed her against the nearest wall, and they grinded through their clothes. The friction was almost more than she could bear.
He pulled down the front of her dress, just enough to expose more cleavage. As he cushioned his face against the fullness, she plowed her fingers through his hair.
“All I want to do is make you come,” he said.
Oh, goodness. Oh, sweet heaven. She clawed his scalp, and he yanked her dress all the way off. Her strapless bra and lace-trimmed panties came next.
If she’d had the sense to be shy, this would have been the time to blush. He stepped back to study her, and she tried to envision what he saw.
A brown-eyed, wavy-haired brunette with her breasts held high and her stomach quavering.
“Open your legs, Alicia. Widen your stance for me.”
She did his bidding. She let him dominate her. This was the most thrilling night of her life. She wondered if she would be begging to be handcuffed by the time he was done with her. Or maybe she would be begging to be held, to be warm and pliant in his arms. He was powerful, but he was gentle, too. He moved forward and kissed her again, only this time, he did it softly, romantically, as if another side of him had kicked in and taken over.
Who was he? she asked herself, as he triggered a myriad of emotions.
Who was Special Agent Malone?
Chapter 3
Alicia wasn’t able to answer her own question. But it wasn’t supposed to matter, was it? Griffin was her G-man fantasy, her sleep-with-a-stranger independence. Other than his job status, he was allowed to be a mystery.
But still…
Those warm, tender kisses, those hot, hungry hands. How could he be so reverent yet so passionate? So gentlemanly yet so wicked?
“Don’t move,” he told her.
“I won’t.” She stood right where she was, and he kissed his way down her body, leaving trails of wetness.
“So sweet…so soft…” he whispered against her flesh. He seemed to be breathing her in, absorbing her in visceral ways, starving for the texture, the scent, the erotic pleasure of being so close to a woman.
Thank her lucky stars that she was that woman. Her skin tingled with every delicious touch. He toyed with her nipples, sucking one and then the other, rolling them between his teeth. Her head fell back and almost bumped the wall.
Alicia braced herself, putting her hands flat against the surface behind her. He whispered again, but she couldn’t make out the words. All she knew, all she felt, was the flutter of his breath and the anticipation that went with it. He was moving lower.
Griffin dropped to his knees, and her heart skipped a thousand thundering beats. The willing-to-be-ravished witness and the famished agent.
He licked her belly and swirled around her navel, dipping into the indentation. He stopped to look up at her. His eyes glittered, feverish blue.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you, Alicia. Say it out loud.”
“I want…” She tried to respond, but her voice was on the brink of shattering.
“Say it.”
Suddenly she felt as if she were sacrificing herself to a stranger, giving him part of her fantasy-driven soul. “I want what you want.”
“For me to make you sigh? And shiver? And scream?”
“Yes.” Oh, yes.
He grasped her hips and pulled her against his mouth. She bucked on contact, her knees going wobbly. She reached out and clutched his shirt, fisting the fabric.
Alicia was naked, and the man on his knees remained fully clothed, doing explicit things with his tongue.
It was sexy. Oh, so sexy. But was this a safe way for her to feel? Trapped within his power? His voracity?
No, she thought. It was dangerous. He was dangerous.
Or was he? He gentled his hold and nuzzled between her thighs, making the act seem dreamy and idyllic. Alicia sighed, the sound drifting like a melody.
Sweet mercy, he confused her.
Achingly slow kisses, then…bam! He conquered her again, pushing her to the edge of peril. He licked the nub of her desire, over and over, shooting sparks deep within her core.
Taking her further, so much further, he planted his aggressive hands on her butt and nudged her forward, making her ride his mouth.
Alicia couldn’t stop herself if she tried. She rocked her hips, and in her mind’s eye, the room rattled and spun, the crash of the sea roaring beyond the walls of the resort.
All she could think was more…more…more.
Griffin gave her what she wanted, what she craved, and she took what he offered. Dazed, she whimpered, then moaned, then convulsed her pleasure, panting his name while he pushed her to orgasm.
As soon as the shuddering subsided, he scooped her up and carried her to bed. She landed on the mattress, and he climbed on top of her and kissed her squarely on the mouth, giving her a forbidden taste of herself.
He raised his head and shadows fell across his face. She wanted to follow the rigid contours, to trace his features, but he moved away from her to peel off his clothes.
Impatient, he tugged at the buttons on his shirt. She sat up to watch, fascinated by the roughness with which he stripped.
He bared his chest, exposing solid muscles and a sprinkling of hair. When he reached for his belt buckle and undid it, Alicia’s heart pounded up a storm. Soon Griffin would be inside of her.
The rasp of his zipper made her shiver, but before he removed his pants, he extracted a condom from his pocket. The wrapper winked in the light.
“Is that from the medicine cabinet in your bathroom?” she asked.
He nodded. “You should give the hotel extra points for supplying protection.”
“I plan to.”
He tossed it to her, and she caught it like a shooting star. But she’d already made her wish, and it was about to come true.
