sucking the slick tip of her finger into his mouth. Though she was a virtual stranger, she managed to know his body better than he knew it himself.
Or did she simply know her own capabilities?
Either way, she’d read him perfectly. He had needed to take the edge off, because now his pulse strummed with a tempered warmth that allowed him to relax and enjoy the seduction.
Straddling one leg, she pressed her sex to his thigh and began rocking against him, moving her hips in a dance, a slick spot growing where her clit met the fabric of his jeans. She moistened her lips and watched as he flicked his tongue against her finger, gliding it back and forth over the tip, demonstrating exactly what he planned to do to more sensitive spots on her body.
“That’s it,” she said. “That’s exactly how I want it.”
And the cock he’d thought was spent hardened as if they’d just gotten started.
He whipped her into his arms and tossed her on the bed, still awash in wonder over how this woman managed to tip him so far so quickly. Before tonight, he’d feared himself too old, tired and ruined for sex like this. But as he pulled the thong down her waist and began feasting, the years and sleepless nights slipped away, leaving him as pumped and virile as he’d been back before his life had fallen apart.
She crooked the heel of her shoe against one shoulder then did the same with the other, leaving her wide and exposed to receive all the gracious pleasure she’d given moments ago. And as he dove in, he thanked Fate for bringing him this momentary respite.
Not a drinker, he rarely went into the bars, much less picked up a playmate for the evening. They were usually more trouble than they were worth, expecting more than he could give.
Which was pretty much nothing.
But something seemed to be propelling him tonight. Like the tide carries a bottle from one shore to another, ever since he left the station he seemed to be succumbing to a force stronger than his will. And as he began the slow climb toward another searing climax, he opted to go with it rather than question it, for once relishing this life that had somehow gone out of his control.
“So WHAT WAS IT you were celebrating again?” Rick asked under the soft glow of the lone lamp that rested on his bedside table. Jessie had snuggled against him, her dimpled chin digging into his chest, sheets draped haphazardly around her waist while she trailed a finger over his abs.
Her eyes lit with a smile and she bolted from the bed. Excitement bounced in her steps as she shot out a quick, “I’ll show you,” before disappearing into the front room.
Where she got the energy, he’d never know. Though he’d discovered far more stamina than he believed he had, three hours of sex had officially drained every muscle in his body. The way he felt right now, brushing lint from his arm would be a stretch. Yet there was Jessica Beane, her perpetual beat leaving him wondering if she had a point of exhaustion.
Settling back next to him, she propped against a pillow and held up a worn and wrinkled copy of People magazine. Pointing to a celebrity photograph, she proudly exclaimed, “That.”
He squinted to find the significance under the dim light.
“Jewel Murray?” he asked, vaguely remembering the name of the blond starlet pictured strolling across a street.
“No, that,” Jessie replied, moving her slim finger to the handbag the actress was carrying. It was bright pink, adorned with shiny black sequins and—were those green feathers?
Jessie beamed, “It’s a Beane Bag. This photo just made me famous.”
A sliver of their bar conversation came back to him, something about the fact that she made designer handbags for a living—or was trying to. She was part of a co-op of struggling artists who owned a boutique on the edge of Union Square.
“Would you believe I was down to my last three hundred dollars when this photo appeared in People?” she went on. “I was actually canvassing the neighborhood looking for another job. That’s how I found Scotty’s. They’d posted an ad for a waitress and I liked the fact that it’s a hangout for cops.” She eyed him with all innocence. “Safer, you know?”
He nearly laughed out loud. Sure, cops typically upheld the law, but put a few together with a couple of cocktails after an especially tough day and any woman intent on keeping her pants on could hardly consider herself safe.
He decided not to burst her bubble.
“I’d just accepted a part-time shift at IHOP when this photo hit the stands,” she said. “It took twenty-four hours before stores all over the country were calling me for inventory. I even got a call from Paris. Paris, can you believe it?”
No, but her excitement was contagious. Those caramel eyes had a way of sucking him in, beaming so brightly with delight he couldn’t help but feel a little thrill for her.
She hopped up to her knees and clutched the magazine to her chest like it was her most prized possession. “I was able to get a loan from the bank. Just enough to cover supplies on order and hire myself an assistant.” Her grin widened. “I’m still in a daze. One minute, I’m going to be a waitress at IHOP and the next I’m hiring assistants to help me make purses I’ll be shipping to Paris.”
With a bounce to every move, she tucked the magazine into her purse and slid back into bed. “So, yeah, I’m celebrating.” She swung a leg over his waist and straddled his lap. Her girlish innocence darkened to pure woman as she traced a finger over his lips, eyeing them as if she were imagining what he might do with them. “And you’re the lucky guy who gets to celebrate with me.”
Unbelievably a wave of heat hardened his cock. Moments ago, with her curled up beside him and every part of his body tucked in for the night, he’d doubted a typhoon could have gotten him to stir. Yet all it had taken was a wiggle of Jessie’s round, little bottom, the crush of her breasts against his chest and that sneaky look of sex in her copper-kettle eyes to get his body buzzing all over again.
Just when he thought he’d broken the record on marathon sex, he found the will to sink into her one more time, to drive his tired, sated body to one last brink and beyond.
And that’s exactly what he did. One more taste of that sweet, supple body. One more sweep of life through his veins. One more climb to the tip of ecstasy and one last crash into the abyss.
And when they were done, he slipped into the longest, deepest sleep he’d enjoyed in as many years as he could remember.
Chapter Two
THE RING of her phone stirred Jessie from what had been a light and restless sleep. Not that she was troubled. On the contrary, she felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, excitement and anticipation keeping her too pumped up for anything more than a turbulent doze.
Granna Hawley had been right. Get out of Texas and all the bad luck that had plagued her life would come to an end. And if Jessie had doubted her paternal grandmother before, these last few days proved the woman had been right. Life had definitely been on the upswing since she’d stepped off the plane in San Francisco, the latest in her run of good fortune being an incredible night of sex with the gorgeous cop beside her.
Rolling off the bed, she grabbed her purse and his charcoal-gray T-shirt and headed for the
