His mouth hot against my chilled skin, my legs hung into the water. My back was cushioned by mossy green grass. His shoulders parted my thighs as the sun sparked diamonds against my closed eyelids.
For an instant, reason shouted that we were outside, naked, anyone could see. I tensed and he kissed me, but not on my mouth.
"Trust me," he whispered, and his breath brushed the damp curls between my legs.
Trust him? Was he nuts? His tongue flicked over me. Okay, what the hell?
My fingers clenched, pulling out handfuls of grass as my head thrashed in the moss. How did he make his tongue so stiff, so acrobatic, so clever?
From his earlier kisses, touches, the few seconds of intercourse, I was swollen and needy. He tormented me with his mouth, then soothed me with his hand. I heard myself breathing and begging. At the same time full and empty, I was on the verge and yet so far away.
"Hush," he whispered. "I'll make everything all right."
His fingers filled me; his mouth locked onto me and with his tongue he gave me what I needed.
A splash woke me from a doze. A shadow blotted out the sun. I opened my eyes; his face hovered inches from mine. The uncertainty I saw there made my heart flutter, so I lifted a hand and touched his cheek.
He was still hard against my hip so I turned, rubbing along the smooth length of him. I shifted my hand from his cheek a few feet lower. "Let me make everything all right for you, too."
He was on the edge, just as I had been. A few sharp pumps, a flick of my tongue over the tip, one deep draw into my mouth, and he shoved me away. I admit I fought him. For the first time in my life, I wanted to go down on a guy and stay there. But it was pretty erotic to watch as he took himself in his own hand and finished what I'd started.
When he opened his eyes, our gazes met. "Wow," I said.
He smiled. "Yeah. Wow."
Getting to his feet in a lithe, supple movement, he jumped into the pond, ducked under the surface, then came up and shook his head, spraying me with water like a dog. I laughed and he swam over to the edge. We couldn't seem to stop staring at each other.
"WHat?" he asked.
I shrugged and dropped my eyes. I didn't want to say what I was thinking.
"Hey, I thought you trusted me."
Did I? I wasn't sure. I wanted him. Badly. But trust? That was so much harder to give than my body.
He touched my ankle. "Jessie?"
I met his gaze. "I was just thinking that I wished we had a condom."
His fingers tightened on my ankle, like a hug almost. He lifted himself out of the pond. I got distracted by the bulging muscles in his arms and the way the water streamed down the length of his body. He sat next to me on the bank and kissed me - soft, slow, and sweet.
"Me, too," he whispered.
Our mouths met, hard this time, a deep, searching, sexy kiss that sent my body spiraling into arousal once more. Whenever I was around him I had absolutely no control.
He broke away, breathing heavily, then tugged my hair. "We could always take a little chance."
"Or not."
He laughed. "That's what I love about you, Jessie. You keep me in line."
Love? That had to be a figure of speech. Had to be. So I let it pass.
"I've got to get back," I said.
"You could come to my place." The uncertainty returned - to his face, his voice.
"I need to sleep."
"So sleep. In my bed. With me."
God, it was tempting. But I was afraid if I went to Cadotte's bed, I'd do everything but sleep. And as appealing as that was, I had to work tonight. The nonstop cop schedule was starting to wear on me.
"I can't."
His eyes shifted away as he sighed.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Is it all about sex between us?"
I wasn't sure what to say. I'd thought we were fucking each other because we couldn't seem to stop.
In fact, I distinctly recalled him agreeing to just that. When had things changed?