Carol Ericson - Brody Law

“You’ve done more than enough, more than I ever expected from that moment you sat down next to me in the emergency room. You’ve been by my side, going beyond the call of duty to protect me.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just paying you back.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Is that what you think this is all about? Protection? Securing a witness?”

The pulse in her wrist ticked up several notches. Could he feel it? “I’m the only witness you have right now.”

He chuckled in the back of his throat, and the low sound sent a line of tingles racing down to her toes.

“The SFPD is not in the bodyguarding business. We’re not going to put you in the Witness Protection Program. It’s not like you have the goods on a mobster or anything.” He scooted his chair back and tossed his napkin onto the table. “Everything I’ve done for you has been off the books and off the clock.”

She twisted her own napkin in her lap as she tilted her head back to take in his imposing figure. “Why’d you do it?”

“Do you have to ask?” He dropped into a crouch in front of her, like a beast ready to pounce. “You may be a kindergarten teacher from Podunk, Montana, but you’re also the runaway bride. You’re the woman in my kitchen waving around asparagus and talking about juicy slabs of meat.”

She choked. “I...I...”

In one fluid movement, he rose to his full height, catching her under the arms and taking her with him. He supported the back of her head with one hand and pulled her close with an arm wrapped around her waist.

He stared into her face, his lips centimeters from her own, so close she felt the scorching heat of his breath. “I want you, Elise Duran. I’ve wanted you from the minute I saw you bundled up in that hospital bed, and I can’t even explain it.”

Her breath came out in short spurts. “Maybe I’m your redemption, the means of redressing your father’s sins.”

“If redemption feels this good—” he ran a slow hand down the beads of her spine and rested it on the curve of her hip “—I should’ve gone in for it years ago.”

Her lashes fluttered and she parted her lips. If he released her now, she’d fall to the floor.

“Now stop.” He kissed her temple. “Talking.” He kissed her left eyelid. “About.” He kissed her earlobe. “My father.” His lips trailed across her throat, and his tongue circled the indentation below her Adam’s apple.

She slid her hands beneath his T-shirt and caressed the muscles of his back. Goose bumps raced across his smooth skin in response to her touch.

He nibbled her collarbone, sweeping the hair from her neck. His lips followed along its curve while he hooked a finger beneath her bra strap and top to bare her shoulder. “Your skin is so soft, like the petal of a rose.”

She’d imagined making love to Sean many times in the past few days, but she never expected poetry from him.

Her head dropped to the side, and her legs trembled. A very soft sigh escaped from her lips.

He growled in her ear. “I’m not going to take you here among the asparagus.”

He was going to take her? Before she could process that thought, he swept her off her feet. “Allow me to show you the rest of the house, or at least the most important room.”

“You mean the kitchen isn’t the most important room in the house?” She dug her fingers into his thick dark hair.

“Only for asparagus.”

She buried her face in his warm neck as he carried her to the back of the house. He bumped open a door and she balanced her chin on his shoulder to take in the view. The large bed, low to the floor, dominated the room with black lacquer pieces lining the walls.

He put her down on the throw rug by the side of the bed, and she placed one foot on the mattress. “At least you don’t have to worry about falling out of this thing.”

“It’s a Japanese-style bed frame. Do you want to analyze my furniture or finish what we started?”

She curled her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans and tugged him toward her. “I have an idea. Let’s analyze the furniture first, starting with the bed.”

Encircling his hands around her waist, he bent his knees and brought her down with him until they were kneeling face-to-face, the low mattress behind her. He dropped his hands and cupped her derriere beneath her thin skirt.

His kiss cut off her breath and sent her heart racing. Everything about him had seemed so hard, but his lips felt soft and supple. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth and she opened it to the demanding pressure.

One hand had bunched up her skirt and she gasped when his rough hand brushed across the silky material of her panties, catching the soft material on the pads of his fingers.

He nudged her down on the bed, and the mattress conformed to her weight and then his as he stretched out beside her. He lifted her blouse, pulling it over her head. He followed the edge of her lacy bra with the tip of his tongue.

Thank goodness she’d donned some good underwear this morning before she’d left for school—about twelve hours ago. Before she’d been chasing kindergartners on the playground and finger-painting with them. Before some stranger died in her lap.

“Wait.” She struggled up, propping herself up on her elbows.

His eyes popped open. “You’re not going to run, are you?”

She rolled off the bed. “I’d like to take a shower, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.” With a deft touch, he reached behind her and unzipped her skirt. “But don’t think I’m letting you go in there alone.”

“Of course not.” She gulped, and when she got up from the bed, she left her skirt behind her.

Sean peeled off his shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. When he stood up, he touched a finger to her nose. “You have the best ideas.”

She drank in what he’d been hiding under his button-up shirts and tailored jackets. His tattoo snaked up his arm, curling around his biceps. Slabs of hard muscle shifted across his broad chest as he reached down to unbutton his fly.

She swallowed and held her breath. Her friends in Montana had warned her that all she’d find in San Francisco was citified metrosexuals. If they could see her now—or rather see Sean.

Not wanting to appear greedy, her gaze returned to his face as he peeled his jeans from his hips. A quick glance downward confirmed he’d shed his briefs along with his jeans.

He reached out and pulled her against his naked body. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

“Why are you still wearing so many clothes?” His fingers fumbled with her bra, and in a matter of seconds they were skin to skin, their bodies meeting along every line.

“That’s better.” He kissed her mouth and then left her lips throbbing and wanting as he pressed kisses along her throat. Every spot he touched seemed to alight in fire.

She choked out, “Shower.”

Taking her hand, he led her to the attached bathroom and cranked on the water in the tiled shower. Water streamed from two showerheads.

She stepped into the warm spray and he joined her. He squirted some liquid soap in the palm of his hand and rubbed his hands together. “Now, what is it that needs washing so much that you had to interrupt my flow in the bedroom?”

She dragged her gaze away from the water sluicing over the planes of his body. “Everywhere.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He flashed her a grin that had her groping for the shower wall for support.

His warm hands, slick with soap, started at her shoulders and quickly descended to her breasts, where he circled her nipples, teasing and provoking them.

His palms rubbed her belly, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips.

“Turn around.” His hands cinched her waist and he spun her around toward the bench that extended from the shower wall.