Free Rules of Engagement by Ann Bruce Page B

flushed with blood. Her fingertips dug into the supple arms of the chair as her breath shuddered out of her.
     
    He reached for her and Katarzyna shook her head. “No,” she protested hoarsely. “All of it. I want you naked.”
     
    His fingers clenched and he looked as if he was going to ignore her request. Then, his eyes avidly roaming her body, he stripped his dark shirt over his head, exposing the broad shoulders and long, lean muscles of his torso. Her mouth literally watered. The shoes, socks and jeans followed and he was exposed in all his naked glory for her eyes, making thick, hot liquid seep from her sex.
     
    He pulled a condom from the back pocket of his jeans before dropping them to the floor and now tore the foil packet open.
     
    “Feet on the arms,” he ordered as he rolled on the plastic sheath.
     
    She complied, her thighs wide, exposing more of herself to his hot gaze. He moved between her spread legs and, without being asked, Katarzyna spread her labia open with her fingers.
     
    He bent over her, surrounding her with his heat and scent, braced one arm on the armrest. He wrapped a large, strong hand around his cock and guided it to her opening, teasing her with the incredibly soft head. She moaned.
     
    He plunged inside, hard and deep, hilting himself to the root. She cried out, savoring the sensation of being full to bursting once more, of his heated cock rubbing her inner channel, of his head brushing the gate to her womb.
     
    He fucked her without the care, without the finesse he’d apparently exhibited for previous lovers, and she reveled in it. His hands cupped her buttocks and lifted her hips to meet each thrust, grinding his groin into hers, and it was too much for Katarzyna. She came quickly, crying out his name, the orgasm intense, her whole body shaking uncontrollably. Her grappling fingers found his hair once more and pulled his mouth down to hers, uncaring if he could taste her tears.
     
    He tore his mouth from hers when he went over the precipice with a guttural shout, his body going rigid above hers before the spasms shook it.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Two more orgasms later, Jake and Katarzyna were sprawled side by side on her bed, sweat cooling on their bodies, the blankets and pillows all scattered on the carpeted floor. She could feel his rapid heartbeat underneath the hand that he kept trapped on his chest. Its tattoo matched hers. And like hers, it was slowing down. Eventually, it would go back to a less dangerous rate.
     
    Like in another month or so.
     
    Limp with an exhaustion that sank to the marrow of her bones, Katarzyna closed her eyes, let herself drift into a half-sleep, then drifted into the first real sleep she’d gotten in six months.
     
    She woke to see the bedroom lit by the lamp on the bedside table on his side and Jake looking down at her. He was on his side, his head propped up with one hand. The other was slowly, almost lethargically drawing her hair away from her face, strand by stray strand.
     
    “I love looking at you,” he murmured, tracing a finger down the length of her nose and over the curves of her lips to end at the point of her chin. The expression in his eyes was so peaceful, so content that she wanted to look away.
     
    Then why did you stay away?
     
    His eyes darkened. “I’m sorry,” he said, making her realize she’d voiced her question out loud.
     
    Jake released a tired sigh and settled on his back.
     
    “I had to stay away from you,” he explained quietly. “For your own safety. You’re a cop—you should understand that.”
     
    “Ilena Tkachuk’s in custody, isn’t she?”
     
    “Not quite,” he said dryly. “She agreed to a deal. She’ll be of more use on the outside than locked up somewhere Amnesty International can’t find her.
     
    “And she’s not the only enemy I have. I did what I did for a lot of years.”
     
    He sounded weary and maybe just a shade regretful. Katarzyna drew him to her. He came, throwing a