A Fine Specimen (19 page)

“You thought you were so
smart,” Caitlin said, watching Alex as he loaded the dishes into the
dishwasher. She lowered her voice in a very bad imitation of his bass growl.
“‘Pederson and Martinez are going out on a special mission’. Special mission,
my foot. A special mission to give a talk at a middle school. When Pederson and
Martinez told me where they were going, I could have strangled you with my bare
hands! But then I started listening to what they were saying to the kids and it
was really interesting, you know? And the question and answer session was
fascinating. What the kids said fits right in with Huntington’s theories.”

“That right?” Alex
didn’t have a clue who Huntington was, but if this Huntington kept Caitlin
happy, he was Alex’s newest favorite author.

Happy and replete, Alex
wiped the counters and watched the sky over his garden turn flamingo pink. He
switched the dishwasher on and turned around to look with pleasure at Caitlin
sitting at his kitchen table.

The kitchen was filled
with the glowing light of sunset and Caitlin seemed to glow in the light as
well. In the mornings, she managed to beat her hair into a semblance of
submission, but by evening she gave up the attempt and let it curl wildly
around her head like rays around the sun. She’d changed into a tee shirt and
shorts and was barefoot. She looked about twelve as she rambled on about
theories of community policing. As always, she made a lot of sense—when what
she was saying could penetrate through Alex’s fog of lust.

Jesus, if he could just
keep his head out of his pants and listen to her more, it would be like getting
himself another master’s.

It was hard keeping his
hands off her. The sex they’d had in the past couple of days should have slowed
him down some, but he stayed in a constant state of semi-arousal around her. He
was aware of her, always, as if his skin had become this sort of receiving
station for whatever it was she emitted.

He and Caitlin had
slipped into an easy domestic routine. Caitlin set the table and cooked, and he
cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up.

If there was going to be
any order in his kitchen at all, he was the one who was going to have to create
it. Caitlin was a messy cook, though a fabulous one. Cleaning up after her was
a small price to pay for the delicious meal he’d just eaten.

She was talking
earnestly, something about community relations as understood by Horace Westin
who said something about community policing, which was different from what
whoosis in England postulated. Alex listened with half an ear, too delighted at
the picture she made to take in much of what she was saying.

God, she floated his
boat. During the day, he managed to keep his mind off his cock by immersing
himself in the details of the hunt for Lopez and he knew she worked hard to
stay out of his way. He was glad. She tried to stay out of his way as a
professional courtesy, but he avoided
her
because just watching her
breathe was enough to give him a hard-on. Like he didn’t have enough problems
at work. But at home, well…

Like right now. She
wasn’t wearing a bra. The red tee shirt she wore was ancient, faded to a dull
pink and baggy. It had been washed so many times it was also very soft and
outlined her gorgeous breasts lovingly. He could even see the tiny mole on her
right breast through the soft material. Her breasts were perfect. He just loved
them. Loved touching them, nuzzling against them. Soft yet firm, slightly large
for her narrow rib cage and all hers.

He resolved never, ever
to go to bed with a woman with plastic sacs of silicone under her skin. Ever
again.

Actually, it was getting
harder and harder to imagine any other woman pleasing him as much as Caitlin.
Well, he didn’t have to imagine it. She was right here, and welcomed his every
touch.

“Don’t you think?” she asked,
when she came to the end of her point, whatever it was. She looked up anxiously
at him out of enormous blue eyes.

“Absolutely,” Alex said
firmly. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“I’m so glad you feel
that way,” she said with relief. “Not everyone does, you know. Why, Willard
Bates argued that— What are you doing?”

Alex cupped her elbow
and urged her to her feet. “There’s a fantastic sunset. Let’s go watch it.” He
took the bottle of unfinished white wine, grabbed two clean stemmed glasses
from the cupboard and opened the door into his garden. He breathed in deeply.
The air was fragrant with evening dew and pine from the big pine tree in his
neighbor’s yard.

“Come here.” Alex sat
down on the top step and patted the place next to him.

“This is nice,” Caitlin
said as she sank gracefully down next to him.

“Mmm, very.” Alex poured
them both a glass of wine and set the empty bottle down. His garden faced west
and the sky was spectacular. Light cirrus clouds floated lazily across his
neighbor’s treetops, their underbellies painted a bright pink slowly fading
into purple. A deep sense of peace seeped into his soul.

When was the last time
he’d watched the sun set over his garden? He’d bought the damn place because it
had a garden and he never used it. As a kid growing up in a rented,
broken-down, filthy hovel of an apartment, he’d dreamed of a house, a proper
one with a garden and maybe even a dog. And here he’d done it, paid his house
off even, and though there was no question of having a dog, he couldn’t even
remember the last time he’d been in his garden.

He’d been pulling double
shifts for so long—what they called eight-to-eights down at the cop shop—he’d
come to think of a twelve- or fourteen-hour day as normal. And yet they’d been
warned against overdoing it at the academy, and even Ray had chewed his ass out
over and over again.

“You’re going to burn
out, boy,” Ray had growled, his bushy gray eyebrows drawn together in a frown.
“You’ll crash and burn and for what? The bad guys will always be there. They’re
forever. Working yourself into the ground won’t change anything.”

Ray was right, Alex
suddenly realized. He’d started coming home later and later simply because
there was nothing for him to come home
to
and it was easier to stay at
work than face the emptiness here. But the last hours of his day weren’t
productive and he always came home beat. Today, he’d worked efficiently all
day, quit at five and he felt great.

And here he was,
watching a spectacular sunset with a spectacular woman. He sipped his wine.
Things were definitely looking up.

“You know what?” Caitlin
asked.

Alex made a “hmmm?”
sound in his throat, too lazy to even form words. This was such a perfect
moment. The last rays of the sun had turned her skin a delicious pearly pink,
like the inside of a seashell. He turned his face to her and pulled in a deep
breath. He could smell her soap and shampoo, mixed in with the Chardonnay and
pine. If sunset had a smell, this would be it. Caitlin and wine and his
neighbor’s big pine tree. Especially Caitlin.

It was so perfect. The
dramatic, darkening sky edging toward night. The soft sounds of evening. A dog’s
bark carrying faintly from far away. A cicada revving up, ready to start the
nightly concert. The dark, exotic smell of coming night. There was magic in the
air.

Alex wasn’t a fanciful
man, would have scoffed if anyone had said that he was susceptible to romance,
but there was definitely something in the air. It was as if the world had taken
a huge breath, ready to make a leap into something new, something almost
frightening in its intensity.

He was a practical man,
not given to fancies—and he hardly recognized himself. But what the evening
offered him was too enticing to resist. Alex opened his heart and took it in.

Caitlin waved her hand
at the garden. “I think you should plant an herb garden. Herbs are pretty, low upkeep
and you can use them for cooking.” She slanted him a teasing glance. “Not that
you do much cooking.”

No, she took care of
that, he thought with satisfaction. She wanted an herb garden? Hell, he’d give
her an herb garden. Long as she did all the work. It would be fun to watch that
cute little ass bending down over the plants. “Okay. What do you want planted?”

“Mm. Well, rosemary,
sweet basil, parsley and sage, for starters.”

He hummed “Parsley,
Sage, Rosemary and Thyme”, off-key. “And thyme. Don’t forget thyme.”

“And cilantro and
chervil, and dill and mint.”

“Gotcha.” What the hell
was chervil? No matter. Alex gave in to temptation and brought his mouth to her
neck. Each time he touched her, the softness of her skin surprised him all over
again. She felt like silk against his mouth. He planted a necklace of soft
kisses along her collarbone and when she tilted her head slightly, he took it
for the invitation it was. His mouth rose along her neck, feeling her heartbeat
speeding up under his lips. He put his glass down behind her, taking hers away
as well, and ran his newly freed hand under her tee shirt to cup her breast.

He was right. No bra. Oh
God. Just a soft, round breast. He was going to hide her bras so she never wore
one at home.

Her breath sped up further
as he slowly, gently circled her nipple in exactly the same rhythm as his
tongue circling her ear.

He could feel her heart
beating fast now against his hand, her lungs expanding as she started panting.

Jesus, he was hard as a
rock.

“We need to take this
inside,” he whispered in her ear. “If we do what I want to do out here, I’ll
have to arrest us.”

“Okay,” she whispered,
turning to put her arms around his neck.

“Come with me,” Alex
said, his voice thick. His mouth closed over hers, the kiss deep and hard. He
rose, his hand under her elbow, taking her up with him. Two short steps and
they were against the kitchen door, Caitlin’s hands on his back, under his tee,
fingers curled into his skin.

They stumbled inside.
Alex closed the kitchen door with his foot and walked her, lips still locked together,
into the living room. He hurriedly stripped off his tee shirt, letting it fall
to the floor as he scrambled to pull her tee off too.

His hands covered her
breasts, firm and smooth. “Don’t ever wear a bra again,” he murmured against
her mouth.

“Never,” she whispered.
“Ever again, I promise.”

“Burn them. Give them to
charity,” he said between nibbles of her mouth.

“Okay.”

Her shorts, his
pants…somehow he got through the barriers between his flesh and hers. Their
mouths never parted. It was impossible to leave her mouth, so soft and
welcoming.

But he had to leave her
mouth because he wanted to kiss something else.

It was amazing to him
how little foreplay they indulged in. It was like he was always in this race,
eager to just get inside her and start moving. And yet he knew better. He’d
been fucking since he was twelve, when he’d nailed Maddie Harrison standing
against her back door. And he’d been developing his technique since his early
twenties. He knew what women liked. God knows they stated it clearly enough.
Some of his lovers gave directions like backseat drivers.
To the left, now
the right, a little lower, there you go…

Alex was a cop. He was a
listener and an observer. If you’d asked him, he’d have said he knew exactly
what women wanted, how they wanted it and where.

So why did he always
behave like a rabid wolverine with Caitlin, of all women? Caitlin, who still
had that aura of innocence about her, who was actually smaller than most women?
All his self-control just melted around her. In the sack, his basic technique
was to jump her bones and stay inside her as long as he could, like a horny
eighteen-year-old. Gah.

It was a very, very
lucky thing that Caitlin desired him. No matter how little foreplay there was,
she was always ready, always welcoming, tight little cunt warm and wet, just
for him.

Oh yeah.

He batted down the
heated images in his head before they got out of control. Before
he
got
out of control. He needed to take it slow this time, if only to prove to
himself that he could.

She sat on his couch,
naked, soft, looking up at him with a smile on her face. Her eyes traveled down
his body and blinked when they got to his cock. Yeah, well, he knew what she
was seeing, he didn’t have to look down. He was hard as a club.

Her breathing sped up as
she looked at him and damned if he didn’t swell a little, just from her eyes on
him.

Oh Jesus, no—his spine
was tingling and his balls start to rise. This wasn’t good. He was going to
blow his wad the instant he got inside her. He’d done that too many times.

Alex recited a few
sections of the Traffic Code in his head and dropped to his knees, taking his
dick out of sight range.

“Oh.” Caitlin’s startled
gaze met his. She was surprised he wasn’t jumping her bones. This wasn’t good.
He’d trained her to think that his erection meant instant fuck. Well, how was
she supposed to know otherwise? It had been his MO up until now.

That had to stop.