In Death 17 - Imitation in Death

called something as mild as pleasure.
     
     
She let him take, would have begged him to take more if she'd had the words. When he yanked her pants down her hips, she opened for him. And those hands, those.wonderful hands, drove her over.
     
     
She cried out as she came, as the orgasm flashed through her with such intense heat.
     
     
Her head dropped weakly o n his shoulder, and she managed one word. "More."
     
     
"Always." His lips were on her hair, her cheek, then o n hers again. "Always."
     
     
His arms came around her, and once freed, hers around him. She locked her legs around his waist and struggled to speak as her breath. came in short, strained pants. "We're not on the floor."
     
     
"We'll get there." He nipped at her shoulder, her throat, wondered how he could stop himself from simply eating her whole.
     
     
He hitched her off the counter, taking her weight as their mouths fused again, as heartbeat slammed against heartbeat.
     
     
Her hands had worked their way under his shirt, her short nails scraping over his damp skin.
     
     
Then she tugged it up, tugged it off, and fixed her teeth on his shoulder. "God, your body. Mine, mine, mine."
     
     
They were on the floor, pulling at clothes, pulling in air as lungs threatened to burst. And this time when her legs looked around him, he buried himself inside her.
     
     
Hot, so viciously hot, she trapped him there, rising up to take more of him, dragging him down to follow her. His hands slid off her slick skin, then found purchase on her hips. They dug in while he plunged.
     
     
Chapter 12
     
     
They were lying on their backs on the floor in a sweaty heap.
     
     
Her throat was wild with thirst, but she wasn't entirely sure she could swallow. Just breathing took all the energy she had left.
     
     
As far as spontaneous, uncontrolled sex went, she thought they had a winner. She felt his fingers brush hers, and gave him top marks for recovery.
     
     
"Is there anything left on your to-do list?" he asked softly. "No." Her breath whistled in, whistled out. "That cleans it up." "Thank God."
     
     
"We have to get up from here, before noon tomorrow," Eve warned.
     
     
"I think it has to be sooner. I'm starving."
     
     
She thought it over. "So am I. 1 don't suppose you could pull one of your macho routines and carry me."
     
     
"I don't suppose. I was hoping you'd carry me." "Well." They lay where they were another full minute.
     
     
"Maybe we can try this together."
     
     
"On three then." He counted it off. On three, they managed to pull each other to sitting positions, then just sat there, grinning.
     
     
"That was really good. My idea," she reminded him.
     
     
"And-one for the record books. We'd better try to stand up.
     
     
"Okay, but let's not rush it."
     
     
They staggered to their feet, swayed, then held each other up like a pair of drunks.
     
     
"Wow. I'd say I got a little trashed watching you lose a round to that grill, but that's not it. You trashed me. Appreciate it."
     
     
"My pleasure." He rested his head on hers. "Just hold a minute, until the blood starts circulating again."
     
     
"Your blood has a tendency to circulate straight to your dick, and I need pizza. And a shower," she realized. "A shower, then pizza, because, pal of mine, we are a mess."
     
     
"All right. Let's get what's left of these clothes."
     
     
She found the rag of her shirt, what used to be her underwear, and other assorted apparel.
     
     
Together, they carried the evidence out of the kitchen.
     
     
"And don't think you're going to nail me again in the shower.-We're done."
     
     
He nailed her again in the shower, but only because she'd brought it up in the first place.
     
     
They ate pizza in the sitting area of the bedroom. By the time she, was working. on the third piece, she felt the hollow in her belly might just fill again.
     
     
"What did you do today?". she asked him.
     
     
"About what?"
     
     
She cocked her head. "Every now and again, I like to touch base with what it is you do. It reminds me you're not just a pretty sex object."
     
     
"Ah, I see. I had meetings." He lifted his shoulders as she continued to stare at him. "Most often, when I explain what it is I do, you get this glassy look in your eye, or fall into unconsciousness."
     
     
"I do not. Well, okay, the glassy look maybe, but I've never lost consciousness."
     
     
"I had a meeting with my broker. We discussed current market trends