Джоанна Рок – Love So Tender: Taking Care of Business / Play It Again, Elvis / Good Luck Charm (страница 10)
“There,” she said with a final pat to his chest. “Watch the pins when you take it off.”
His relief in regaining control over his erection was short-lived when he had to repeat the process four more times. His cock hadn’t gotten this kind of workout since high school.
By the time she finished pinning the black-and-white striped inmate outfit, he was sweating bullets—and his pride was in the gutter. “Thank God that prisoners don’t have to dress like this anymore.”
She, on the other hand, seemed unaffected as she giggled. “Our Jailhouse Wedding package is popular, although I don’t quite understand why.”
“Maybe they see marriage as a life sentence,” he offered, then laughed at his own joke.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s not funny.” But a smile played on her lips as she started to turn away.
Before he could think through the ramifications, he reached out and closed his hand around her wrist. “Gracie.”
She turned back, seemingly startled by his touch, then inquisitive. “Yes?”
He pulled her close to him, slowly—in case she resisted…he almost hoped she would. But she didn’t resist—only stared up at him with impossibly beautiful eyes, her mouth plump and inviting.
“We were interrupted yesterday,” he said on an exhale as he lowered his mouth to hers. She opened to him, and her arms went around his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath as pins dug into his skin, but shoved aside the quick bite of pain. The floral scent she wore filled his lungs and the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest obliterated all other sensation. Their kiss went from exploratory to promising to preparatory as he slid his hands down her back and pulled her hips against his. Their moans mingled as he experienced a few seconds of blessed relief to connect with her body. Nearly out of his mind with wanting her, he pulled her toward the dressing room…and she went with him, devouring his mouth, her hands pushing at the costume. He grunted as more pins found their way home, but he didn’t care.
The door to the dressing room closed behind them just as his shirt fell to the floor. He broke their kiss long enough to lift her tank top over her head and reveal the lacy bra. His sex jerked in anticipation of what lay beneath. “My God, you’re beautiful.” He pulled her close and lifted her skirt, sliding his hands down to her buttocks, finding them almost bare, spanned by a slip of a lacy thong. He groaned in pure ecstasy, and pushed the wisp of a garment over her hips and down her legs to her ankles. Heaven.
She stepped out of her shoes and the thong, standing before him in the bra and flirty skirt. Her violet eyes sparkled like jewels—she was almost too beautiful, too perfect to touch. Desire pinkened her cheeks. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and the realization made him slow down long enough for rational thought to work its way into his head.
He couldn’t do this.
When she closed in for another kiss, he put out his hands and held her at arm’s length in the tiny space. “Gracie, we have to stop.”
She blinked, then glanced around, as if suddenly realizing where they were. “Oh.” She crossed her hands over her bra. “Oh. Of course we do.”
“Gracie, I’m sorry.” He retrieved her yellow shirt and handed it to her.
She looked a little out of sorts and stumbled back, falling into the chair. From the sudden look of pain on her face, he realized she’d connected with something hard beneath his jeans—his gun.
“Ow!” She sprang back up. “What is that?”
Panic shot through his chest. “Sorry,” he said quickly, moving to stop her from looking. “It’s my cell phone.”
She rubbed her hip. “It didn’t feel like a cell phone.”
“I think I left my camera there,” he improvised, positioning himself between the chair and the door, forcing her to back up.
“Could I get dressed first?” she hissed, putting her arms through the sleeves of her shirt.
He felt like a cad…he was a cad. What was he thinking? If she’d found his gun…had been hurt…“I’m sorry, Gracie.”
“You said that already.”
“I can’t get involved with you,” he said.
“Does this have something to do with Karen, the woman who keeps calling?”
He looked surprised, then defeated. “Yes.”
She nodded. “Well, for the record, I’m sorry, too.” She yanked her shirt down and crossed her arms. “Okay—we both know there’s an attraction here, so why don’t we just agree to be adults about this and keep our hands off each other?”
He set his jaw and nodded.
A noise sounded outside the dressing room. “Gracie? Mr. Mulcahy?”
He winced—Cordelia was looking for them. Gracie closed her eyes briefly, then whispered. “I’ll go out first. Stay here.”
Before he could argue, she slipped her feet into her shoes, scooped up the pinned costumes within reach, opened the door just enough to slide out, and was gone. Steve pulled his hand down his face, thinking if he wasn’t careful, he was going to botch this assignment. And if word got back that he was playing hanky-panky while on duty, his job would be on the line. He fisted his hands in frustration—he’d never let a woman get to him to the point of foolhardiness.
Somehow, some way, until this assignment was over, he was going to have to keep his distance from Gracie. He looked down at the floor and grimaced.
Right after he returned her thong.
CHAPTER SIX
WITH HER ARMS FULL OF COSTUMES and her heart clicking like mad, Gracie manufactured the best smile possible under the scrutiny of her boss. “Hi, Cordelia. Did you need something?”
Cordelia wore a bemused expression. “Just checking on you two.”
Gracie walked over an air conditioner floor vent and realized with a frosty jolt that she wasn’t wearing underwear. A hot flush began to make its way up her neck. “We were just having a fitting.”
“Ah.” Cordelia pursed her mouth. “And did everything…fit?”
“Not exactly,” Gracie murmured.
“But you’re getting there?” Cordelia prompted.
Gracie’s skin tingled in embarrassment.
Cordelia sighed. “Gracie, you know I don’t like to butt in to your life, but I don’t like standing by and watching you get hurt, either. Don’t fall for this guy.”
Gracie’s heart jerked sideways. Cordelia cared more about her happiness than anyone in the world. “Do you know something about him that I should know?”
A frustrated look came over her boss’s face. “Only that Steve Mulcahy isn’t the type who’s going to stick around.”
Gracie pressed her lips together. Hadn’t Steve just reiterated that he didn’t like staying in one place for long? Had he been warning her? Don’t fall for me—I’ll leave.
Cordelia’s expression softened. “Gracie, you told me you were going to hold out for a guy who would be there for the long haul. Do you still feel that way?”
A lump formed in Gracie’s throat and she nodded.
“Then stay away from Steve Mulcahy. Trust me—he will break your heart.”
Moisture gathered in Gracie’s eyes. Cordelia was right. She’d made a pact with herself to wait for love and a ring before she gave herself and her heart to another man. Yet she’d met Steve Mulcahy only yesterday and here she stood with her bare privates being subjected to an arctic blast. Shame rolled over her. “I understand what you’re saying,” she said carefully. “And I appreciate your concern, Cordelia. But you have nothing to worry about—Steve and I aren’t involved.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Cordelia said, although she didn’t look completely convinced. Then she straightened, all business. “What time is our first wedding?”
Relieved at the subject change, Gracie inhaled deeply. “Four-thirty. Between answering the phones, I should have time to do these alterations by then.”
Cordelia nodded. “And what will Mr. Mulcahy be doing?”
“I thought I’d take a few pictures of the chapel,” he said, walking up behind Gracie. He was fully dressed and looked completely collected, the strap of his camera over his shoulder. But the memory of him without his shirt made her pulse skyrocket.
“Your shift doesn’t start until four,” Cordelia said to him. “You don’t have to be here until the weddings begin if you’d like to leave and come back.”
Guilt prodded Gracie because she knew the veiled antagonism Cordelia directed toward Steve was because of Cordelia’s concern for her.
But he seemed to brush aside his new boss’s slight. “I also brought a toolbox and thought I’d take a look at the Caddy, if that’s all right, Ms. Conroy.”
Cordelia hesitated, then nodded briefly. “If you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on H.D.—he needs to be outdoors more.” On cue, the fat dog waddled into view, his tongue hanging almost to the floor.
Gracie smothered a smile at Steve’s wry frown. “Okay,” he said finally, then excused himself and walked out into the hall. He snapped his fingers at H.D. The hound turned as quickly as his thick body would allow and followed him, his collar jingling.
Cordelia went back to work and Gracie, after scouring the dressing room for her thong and coming up empty, was forced to look for Steve. She found him outside in front of the chapel with the camera to his eye. H.D. sat nearby, panting but with rapt attention focused on Steve.
She watched quietly as Steve shot the front of the chapel, then the road, even the parking lot across from them. To her untrained eye, he didn’t seem to be taking time to frame interesting shots, yet the photos he’d taken after the ceremonies had shown a keen sense of composition. And the midday sun didn’t strike her as the best light for taking photos, but for all she knew he could be using a lens filter.