Crossing the Line Page 6
“The stuff of fantasies.”
He had not just said that. “Why do you make fun of me?”
His features showed no hint of humor. “I don’t. I wouldn’t. Not you.”
She closed her eyes again. “You’re not ever serious about anything.”
“I’m serious about you.”
It took all of her self-control not to open her eyes.
“No one else is here, B. Just me and you…and maybe it’s time for a few truths.”
Her heart slammed into her chest. “It’s time for bed. That’s all.”
“I thought you didn’t want secrets between us any longer?”
She was gripping the covers far too tightly. “You say some things, and then you can’t take them back.”
“Is that so bad?”
It is if it ruins our partnership. “I like being your partner.” Her voice was soft. “I don’t want that to change. Even when you piss me off, we’re good together.”
“Maybe we could be even better. You ever think about that?”
Only all the time.
“But the last thing I want is for you to feel pushed or uncomfortable or awkward or any damn thing like that. So you know what? I’m gonna sleep my ass on the floor.”
She felt the rustle of the bedding.
“Should have been down there to begin with. Sorry, B, I—”
Her eyes flew open even as her hand swung out and locked around his arm. His upper arm. Those nice, tight muscles there. “Stay.”
It was dark in their bedroom. He must have turned out the lights while her eyes had been closed. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she felt his gaze on her.
“You want me sharing your bed?”
Oh, the images that immediately popped in her head at his hot, dark words.
She had to swallow twice. “If Martin gives us a surprise breakfast visit, I don’t want him to see evidence showing my new husband slept on the floor. That wouldn’t work with our cover.”
“No.” Soft. “It wouldn’t.”
“So stay in the bed.”
He slid back down.
Silence. Thick and uncomfortable and it was going to be so hard to get to sleep. She felt hyperaware of Linc, and his words kept replaying in her head. He’d been skirting around a confession that she’d feared—and wanted—for a long time.
Did he want her? She…she thought he did.
She didn’t think he’d been faking the passion of his kiss.
God, but what if he was? He’s a good undercover agent.
And…earlier, he’d even said that he needed a cold shower…
But it was damn hot on the island. Crap.
No one knew her better than Linc, but there were so many things that they never said to each other.
Because if you say them, you can’t take them back.
Blair stared straight up as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could hear the crash of the waves outside. Pounding against the shore, over and over again.
“Are you seeing anyone, B?”
“No.” She bit her lower lip. She hadn’t dated anyone in ages. Not seriously, anyway. Not since…
Since Linc became my partner.
“You know how work is,” she rushed to add. “You get so busy. You get caught up in the cases. Hell, half the time, we’re undercover. It’s hard to date someone when they can’t find out who you really are.”
“It’s hard to fuck someone you can’t trust.”
Well, that was blunt. It was also the truth. “Yes.” She sucked in a breath. “What about you? You have some girlfriend back in Atlanta?” She knew he didn’t. Or at least, he hadn’t mentioned anyone to her. And she thought—
“There hasn’t been anyone since you, B.”
Wait, no, no, he had not said that.
“Hard for anyone else to compete with you.”
She shook her head against the pillow. “What are you saying?”
“I think you know exactly what I’m saying, even though I damn well should have just kept my mouth shut.”
The covers rustled again. He was getting up. Leaving. She could see his shadowy outline in the dark. She sat up and clutched the covers to her chest. “Where are you going?”
“I think I need a midnight jog. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Linc—”
“I can’t be beside you in the bed right now. I can’t be there, with you so close, smelling like a freaking fantasy with your candy apple body cream and your soft voice sliding through my head. I just—I’ll be right back, all right? And I’ll be normal then. This shit—this will be gone. I’ll get beside you in the bed, and it will be fine. I will keep my control with you. Always.”
It was almost hard to hear his words because her heart thundered so loudly in her ears.
He marched out.
It took a moment for her heart to slow. For the frantic beat to fade so that she could hear the roar of the waves.
She wanted to jump up. To follow him out. To tell him—
What? That I want him?
Her secret. The truth she’d held back from Linc. Even as she’d raged against him for keeping secrets from her, Blair had been holding back her biggest secret.
She wanted her partner. He slipped into her dreams. He drove her to distraction.
She wanted to be professional with him—she’d never crossed the line with anyone else.
But the more she was with Linc…
The more he got to her.
Her hand rose and pressed to her lips. This case was going to be their hardest one yet. She and Linc were too close, both physically and emotionally. He’d said that he would keep his control.
But…
Would she keep hers?
***
Sweat covered Linc when he headed back into the bungalow. He’d run until his muscles ached because he had to put some distance between himself and Blair.
Before he made even more of an ass out of himself.
He shut the door. Locked it. Then, as he stood in the darkness he realized—fuck, what if the enemy had already taken the bait? Yes, Blair was more than a competent agent—she was the best he’d ever met—but even the best could be caught off-guard. What if—
He bounded forward.
She was in the bed.
He stood there, dripping with sweat, as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Blair rested on her side. One hand was tucked under her chin. The other was at her side.
He eased out a breath and crept closer to the bed. His hand lifted, and he smoothed back a lock of her hair. “Sorry I’m such a fucking asshole,” he whispered. When it came to Blair, hell, he tried so friggin’ hard to stay in check. He didn’t want to screw up with her.
Mostly because if she ever found out just how much he wanted her…
I’m afraid you’ll run.
He hadn’t been lying when he said there hadn’t been another woman for him, not since he’d met Blair. He’d taken one look into her eyes, and he’d barely been able to see other women after that.
But Blair didn’t want to cross the line with him, and if he couldn’t have her as his lover, then he damn sure wasn’t going to lose her as his partner. He needed her in his life. He needed her. Period.
So he’d suck it up. He’d take cold showers. He’d go for midnight runs. He’d keep smiling with the quips and the BS, and he’d act like his heart wasn’t being cut out and his dick wasn’t at full, constant attention around her. He’d keep his cock zipped up, keep their relationship professional, and he would not—
“Linc,” she moaned.
Moaned.
Actually moaned his name.
His eyes narrowed. He bent his head closer to her. Was he having some kind of auditory hallucination?
“Linc, more!”
His mouth dropped open. She had not just said—
Another moan.
Holy shit. “Blair?”
She gasped. Not a moan. A gasp because he’d just woken her up
. She sat up, fast, almost clipping him in the chin with her head, and her hand flew out toward the nightstand. She hit the light there, sending a pool of illumination spilling over the bed. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” she demanded.
He kept dripping sweat. “You were talking in your sleep.”
“I do not talk in my sleep.” She reached toward him. Her fingers skated over his abs.
He was the one who almost moaned.
“You’re wet,” she added softly.
Baby, what I wouldn’t give to make you wet right now.
“You should shower off.”
Shower off. She’d said shower off. Not jerk off. He was the one who’d changed the word in his head.
“You were talking in your sleep,” he said again. His voice was a little too rough and raw, mostly because he was turned on as fuck. So much for the long run. She moaned his name, asked for more, and he was rock hard again.
“I told you,” Blair’s voice was soft and husky, “I don’t talk in my sleep.”
“Liar.”
She stared up at him.
His gaze darted down.
Her nipples were tight and thrusting against the soft fabric of her tank top. They could have been tight because the wind had blown inside when he’d entered the bungalow. It had chilled the room a bit. Or…
Was Blair turned on? Linc swallowed. “What were you dreaming about, B?”
“I-I don’t remember.”
He wanted to call her a liar once more.
The word seemed to linger in the air between then. But he just asked, “Want me to tell you who you called for when you were dreaming?”
“No.”
“You called for me, Blair. Me. You said my name, and you wanted more.”
Her breath hitched. “I think you’re mistaken.”
He nodded. Stepped back. Her hand fell away from him. “I’ll get that shower,” he said. He marched away.
I wasn’t mistaken. You called my name. The way he’d fantasized about hearing her say his name. With desire. With need.
Blair had been having a sex dream about him and that made him so fucking happy that he didn’t even care if she wasn’t telling him the truth. A sex dream meant…
Hell, what did it mean?
He showered off his sweat. Raked a towel over his body. Grabbed a fresh pair of jogging pants before he went back to the bed.
She’d left plenty of room for him this time.
He slid under the covers. Didn’t touch her, but, God, he wanted to. He rolled away from her and concentrated on his breathing. In and out. In and—
She smells delicious. Good enough to eat.
And the visual that followed in his mind after that thought…
“Did you see anything?”
Her voice stroked over him.
“When you were out running, I mean. Did you see anything suspicious?”
“Saw a boat coming in. Watched Cole get off it on the dock. Natasha was there to meet him. Maybe she meets all the new staff.”
“Nothing else?”
“Saw a couple having sex on the beach about a quarter of a mile away. They seemed busy, so I didn’t interrupt.”
“That was, um, thoughtful of you.”
Linc grunted. “Just considered the guy a lucky bastard as I ran faster.”
Silence.
He closed his eyes. He would get through this night. And the next one. And ever how many other ones that came after—
“What if I was dreaming about you?”
Holy mother of—
“Dreams don’t matter. It’s just…your subconscious. You can’t control your subconscious.”
He rolled toward her. Barely stopped himself from pouncing. It was so freaking hard to have the one thing he wanted more than anything else…
Right the hell there.
“I think dreams matter one hell of a lot,” he growled. Shit, he sounded rough. Primitive.
“Why?” Her voice was even softer. She’d rolled toward him, too. She’d turned off the light.
The dark surrounded them.
“Dreams tell you what you want most. They tell you what you need. You lower your guard when you dream. You let your control go. And you can finally have what you desire.”
“It’s…just a dream.”
“It’s whatever you want it to be.” And I’m whatever you need me to be, baby.
“I didn’t call your name.”
This time, he whispered, “Liar.” The word was more of a caress than anything else.
“What do you dream about, Linc?”
“Oh, I often have the same dream. There’s this beautiful woman—fucking star of my fantasies—and she’s just out of my reach. I hate that because I know if I could just touch her—just get my hands on her—the pleasure would wreck us both.”
He heard her sharply indrawn breath. Her voice was husky as she said, “Maybe…maybe reality wouldn’t be as good as your dream.”
“It wouldn’t be as good,” he told her with certainty. He wanted her mouth. Wanted her body. Wanted every single inch of her. “It would be a thousand times better.”
Silence, then…“How do you know?”
“Because I know her. And if I ever do get the chance to put my hands on her—and we’re not pretending, not working a case—we’re touching each other because that’s what we want…When that happens, I’m going to make sure it’s so good for her that she never thinks about anyone else again.”
“That’s…really cocky.” Her words broke a bit.
“I never think about anyone else.” Shit. He was getting way too chatty. “I think she ruined me for other women.”
“This mystery woman of yours did that?”
“She’s not a mystery.” She’s you, baby, and you know it.
“What do you want from me?” Blair’s voice was barely a breath.
Everything that you want to give me. But he didn’t say that. She had to be the one to come to him. In that moment, only inches separated him from the woman he wanted most. Inches. It might as well have been miles. “I don’t want lies. I want you to figure out what you need most. And then, I want you to trust me to give you that.”
“You don’t know everything about me. You don’t know what I was like before Wilde.”
What did that mean?
“You might not like what you find out.”
He laughed. A rough, rumbling sound. “There is nothing about you that I wouldn’t like. You could tell me that you’re a killer, and I’ll say the bastard you offed deserved it. You tell me that you’re a thief, and I’ll say you were retrieving stolen property. Tell me that you’re a criminal, and I’ll say the law is wrong.”
“That…doesn’t make any sense. You shouldn’t—”
“It makes sense if I trust you completely. And I do. I trust you because you do the right thing. Over and over again, I’ve seen it. So you tell me you did something bad, and I’ll know there’s a reason. Because I know you. I will always stand by you, no matter what.” She needed to get that. His loyalty to her was absolute. “You can tell me to go fuck myself. That you might be having sex dreams about me—”
“I—”
“But you don’t want to be with me in reality, and I won’t push again. This is it. You think long and hard about what you want. And if you want me to give it to you. Until then…”
He grabbed a pillow and shoved it between them.
“Until then, I’ll be staying on this side of the bed. I won’t cross over. I won’t touch you.” Not until you want me as badly as I want you. He inhaled and caught the sweet scent of candy apples. He swallowed. “Good night, B. Sweet dreams.”
Silence.
He tried to focus on his breathing. Not on her scent. Not on her amazing, yummy, mouth-watering scent. Or the way he’d like to lick every inch of her skin. The way he’d like to part her thighs and put his mouth right on her core. And make her scream as she came over and over for him. He’d like for her to grab his sho
ulders. To hold on tight. To push her sex against him as she let herself go and let him lick her until—
“My dreams aren’t usually sweet.” Her voice was so faint he barely heard her. “Sometimes, they’re dark and they’re scary, and when I wake up, I’m so glad that they’re over.”
His body stiffened.
“But sometimes, I dream of something else. Someone else.” Her voice went even lower. “Sometimes, I dream about you.”
Holy friggin’—
“Those dreams scare me, too, because everything in those dreams feels so good.”
He was about to—
“Things in reality can’t be that good. Nothing is that good. Nothing ever compares to a dream.” The last was followed by a soft, sad sigh.
He’d fisted the sheets. It was either fist the sheets or grab Blair and never let go. “Don’t be too sure about that,” he told her gruffly. “Sometimes, reality can be far better than any dream. In reality, you can taste. You can touch. You can feel. It’s not just imagining. It’s experiencing. It’s knowing pleasure so intense you forget everything else.”
“But in reality, you have a lot to lose.”
“Sometimes, it’s worth the risk.” She had to take the risk. “Maybe I shouldn’t wish you sweet dreams, huh? Maybe I should wish that you have hot, crazy dreams tonight—”
“Linc?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever dream about me?”
Only every time I close my eyes. “What do you think?”
“I think…I’m scared.”
He stiffened. “You don’t need to be. You never need to be afraid when I’m close.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t fear a whole lot in this world, but I do fear you.”
He could feel his heart breaking. The last thing he ever wanted was to make her feel afraid or hurt or—
“You make me crazy.”
He strained to hear her voice.
“Sometimes, I don’t know if I should laugh in response to what you say or storm away. I can’t ever quite figure you out, but I know…as partners…we work.”
“That why you didn’t take Eric up on his offer to team you with Cole?” Yeah, jealousy was there. Blair was his partner, dammit.
“Cole isn’t you. I don’t want to lose you.” A pause. “I don’t want to lose us.”
He reached across the pillow. Caught her hand. Threaded his fingers with hers. Just held her hand. Nothing more. “You won’t. Not ever. I swear it.”