Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

wanted to run my tongue around the edges and see if I could reach your nipples.”
    She made a breathless sound when his tongue slid across the crease at the back of her knee. “It’s not too late.”
    He lifted his head. “What isn’t?”
    “I’m still wearing it. The dress.”
    His hands hesitated, withdrew, and returned between the flannel and the silky garment he’d thought was a nightgown. “You’re right. It’s not too late. Are you really fond of this old rag?” he asked, turning his hands to tug at the flannel.
    “I’ve got a closet full of rags.”
    “Say good-bye to this one.”
    He grabbed a double handful and yanked. The ancient cloth gave way almost gratefully, landing in a jumbled pile around her naked feet. He found himself about eye level with the hips he’d watched with an elemental male hunger as he’d seated her in the restaurant. It occurred tohim that with very little effort he could pull her down over him, sink deep into her, and just plain enjoy a lapful of Lacey Quinn.
    On a surge of power that was just short of violent, he came to his feet. If he stayed crouched on his heels one second longer, he knew the fun would be over way too soon. He wanted more from her than fast sex. He wasn’t sure what else he wanted, but he was damn sure that he was going to enjoy finding out.
    Lacey turned toward him, lifted her hands to his face, and said, “Yikes! I can’t touch you. I’m covered in paint.”
    “Cover me, too.”
    “No, I’ll wash and…” Her breath backed up in her throat, cutting off her words. Ian’s tongue was tracing the neckline of her dress, probing, proving that not only could his tongue reach her nipple, his teeth could.
    He bit her very delicately, sucked harder, nibbled gently again. “Gotta say, I love your taste in underwear.”
    “I’m not wearing any.”
    “Like I said.”
    She laughed and reached for him. “You fond of this denim jacket?”
    He smiled against her breast, licked, kissed. “Why? You going to tear it off my manly body?”
    “I’m not that strong. But on my way to getting this jacket off you, I’m sure going to stain it up some.”
    He nuzzled. “Have your way with me.”
    “You do know how to tempt a woman.”
    “Do I?” He lifted his head and looked at her. “You’re the first one to mention it.”
    She rolled her eyes and began pushing the jacket off his shoulders. “Yeah. Sure. And you have a bridge to sell me.”
    “No bridge. Just me.”
    Her hands stopped as she met the clear, hot darkness of his eyes. “Sold.”
    The smile he gave her was as sexy as the slow twist of his body helping her to pull off his jacket. She looked at the leather shoulder harness, supple and tough—and the gun, completely unknown.
    “Um, is this thing on whatchamacallit—safety?” she asked.
    His smile got hotter. “The one on my shoulder is. The other one is locked and loaded.” She looked down, then followed her glance with her hands, measuringhis readiness. He took the sweet torture for a few moments before he dragged her hands back up his chest.
    “Unless you have a hidden lust for sex with a fully dressed, armed man,” he said hoarsely, “we’d better take it easy on that one.”
    “Okay.”
    He told himself he wasn’t disappointed that she agreed. Then he felt her hands working on his fly and sucked at breath. “I thought you were going to take it easy.”
    “I’ve never done things the easy way. Not the things that really mattered, the good things.”
    “Now you’re the one tempting me.”
    His hands reached down, slid up the inside of her thighs, and found her center. She was sultry, slick, open to him. The ripping sigh of her breath as he caressed her was like fire. The liquid heat of her response nearly brought him to his knees. He felt control slipping away and didn’t care. Her fingers had already undone his fly and freed him while he’d pushed her dress up to her waist and teased her.
    “How sturdy is that paint table?” he asked, pointing his chin at the nearest one.
    “I stand on it to change lightbulbs, why?”
    With one arm he swept the plates, paint tubes, and used brushes aside. With the other he lifted her and put her bare bottom on the paint-covered edge of the table.
    Her breath hissed in.
    “Okay?” he asked.
    “Cold,” she said huskily, “but you’re going to take care of that.”
    She touched his erection with the tip of her finger. She liked the jerk of his response, the eager beat of his