Rarities Unlimited 02 - Running Scared

her front.
    “Now,” he said, “where were we?”
    “We were jumping each other.”
    “Show me.”
    He watched her eyes while her hands slid down his chest to his thighs. When she kneaded the heavy, flexed muscles, breath backed up in his throat. She was so close . . . and not nearly close enough.
    “I was going to take it slow and thorough,” he said roughly. “You’re changing my mind.”
    “Your mind, huh?” Deliberately she unzipped his pants and found him hot and ready. She stroked the full length of his erection. “I was always told that men thought with their dick, but I didn’t believe it.”
    “Believe it.” His deft, clever hands went from her collarbone to her breasts to her thighs, opening buttons, pushing up her skirt, lighting fires. “What do women think with?”
    “You’re getting close.”
    His hands moved.
    “You’re there.” Her breath hitched, and she melted in a shivering rush. Her hips pushed helplessly against his teasing hand. Her eyes closed as a small climax ripped through her.
    Before the heat shot to her fingertips, she was on the carpet and he was pushing sleekly into her until he filled her. Stretching around him was the hottest pleasure she had ever known. And then he started moving. Sensations coiled inside her like a spring, tighter and tighter, until everything let go and she was flying, shivering, crying, and saying his name with every broken breath.
    The first clench of her release pulled him over the edge with her. He kept sliding into her because it felt too good to stop, each hot pulse better than the last until his whole body was hard, shaking with the violence of his release. He felt another climax hit her, and he gave himself to it, driving both of them higher, until the world went black and pulsing around them.
    Finally he caught enough breath to say her name and roll onto his back, taking her with him. She tightened around him, telling him without words that she liked having him inside her even when she lay limp and spent on his chest. He flexed his hips and felt more shivers take her. Fresh arousal prowled through him on hot claws.
    “Jesus, we’re going to kill each other,” he said hoarsely.
    “Are you bragging or complaining?” she said against his neck.
    “I’m taking rain checks. A whole fistful of them.”
    “Okay. As long as I don’t have to move real soon.”
    “Define real soon.”
    “This century.” She sighed. “What the hell is tickling my thigh?”
    “My pager is vibrating.”
    “Well, that’s a relief. I thought maybe you had two dicks or something.”
    Laughing, he reached into the pocket of the pants he was still—mostly—wearing and pulled out his casino remote. Susan Chatsworth’s number was in the window. Without shifting his position, he dug his communications unit out of the small of his back and keyed in Chatsworth.
    “Tannahill,” he said.
    “The police have arrived. Would you like the interview to take place in your office?”
    His executive assistant’s carefully bland tone told Shane that whoever was on the elevator security camera must have put the word out real fast that Shane had probably jumped his curator in the elevator. And vice versa.
    “My office,” he said.
    “Yes, sir. Right away?”
    He bit back a curse at the laughter that lurked just beneath the question, as in Sure you don’t want time for a quickie? But he felt much too good to be irritated.
    “Send them up,” he said. “Anybody follow the guy who grabbed Risa?”
    “Sorry, sir. He was waving a gun, and your orders—”
    “Fine,” Shane cut in. “Was anybody hurt in the casino?”
    “No. Most of the people are gathered around the slot machine he blew a hole in. Some are admiring the gouge in the baccarat table made by another bullet. A few folks headed straight for the bar. And here come the cops.”
    “While we talk to the police, settle up with the gamblers whose games were interrupted. If you have any problems getting the people to accept who owes what, run the security tapes to make your point.”
    “Yes, sir. Is Ms. Sheridan all right? Med techs are on their way, too.”
    “I’ll check.” Shane caressed down the length of her back to her lush hips. “You okay, Risa?”
    “Fine as frog’s hair,” she said, and blew against his chin.
    Laughing, Shane took his thumb off the receiver and said, “She’s fine.”
    Really fine.
    And somebody had just tried to kill her.

Chapter 34
    Las Vegas
    November