His hands came around her inadvertently, gripping her, pulling her closer, and kneading her ass, even as he ground out “This is a mistake.”
“No. It’s not.”
One big palm moved up to cup her breast, and he lowered his mouth back to hers, took her deeper as his fingers circled her nipple through the thin fabric of the lacey bra. Lola heard her breath as it came in small, frantic gasps. She brushed one of her hands through his short hair, nipped him playfully on the chin.
Jacob pulled back slightly, met her eyes for a single moment. “Are you sure this is what you want? You’ve been under a lot of stre-”
She cut him off by pulling his lips back to hers. This time, when their mouths met, something broke inside of her. His lips branded hers mercilessly and she responded, pouring everything, all the pent-up lust, all the frustration, all the things that she wanted to say to him, into the kiss. Their tongues sought desperately for more, and as his mouth ravished hers, she grabbed his hand and moved it down until he was cupping her.
She knew the moment that he realized how turned on she was, knew by the way that he groaned against her mouth that he had felt the heat through her lust-soaked thong, bit back a moan of her own when his hand instinctively began rubbing her in small, slow circles. Her hips started moving, encouraging him as she ground herself against his palm. He cursed, one loud, “Fuck,” before he spun her around so that her back was pressed to his chest.
For a moment she wasn’t entirely sure what he intended, but then he unhooked her bra, threw it aside without another word. He reached up from behind her with both hands and gently cupped her chest, his strong fingers rolling her nipples, pulling the peaks tighter than she’d ever thought possible. Already, she could feel a rising tautness spreading from her thighs to her center and she pressed herself back into him so that she could feel the long, thick length of him pressing into her lower back.
He trailed his right palm down her stomach, lighting small flickers of fire everywhere that he touched until he found her once again. This time, when he started rubbing the heel of his hand over her, she let her head fall back to rest on his shoulder, welcoming the building sensation that spread through her as she gyrated against him, urging him on.
Her breath came faster as the orgasm built, seeming to rise in a crushing wave from the very depths of her toes as they stood against one another, her back to his chest. Just when her legs started trembling underneath her, when she thought that he couldn’t do more, he nipped her neck with his teeth and pushed her lacy thong aside.
She felt the world pause the moment that he touched her, and the movement, the gentlest of pressures sliding up and down between her legs, over her, made her body feel impossibly heavy, forced her breath out in small pants for air.
“Jake,” she whispered, her voice dry, husky. “Don’t tease.”
He growled in response and gripped her more firmly against his chest as he slipped his finger inside of her. She gasped as her body jolted with the contact, gripped his arm that snaked in front of her as he curled his finger slightly, moving in and out of her in fast, smooth strokes that made her entire body heat from the inside out. She felt the rising tension in her core spread to a point of near pain, and begged, “Jake…”
She didn’t know what she wanted to tell him, couldn’t think through the impossible pleasure that he was bringing her. She heard him groan, felt his chest press more firmly into her back, and every thought that she had fled with the certainty that she wanted him inside of her.
She was about to tell him just that, but her words came out in a strangled cry as he used the pad of his thumb on her. The feeling of his long finger sliding in and out of her, coupled with the whisper-light touch of his thumb forced her over the edge and when the orgasm tore through her, her entire body vibrated, tightened and pulsed as he slowed his pace and nibbled her neck, helping her ride out the orgasm.
Lola closed her eyes as the rippling sensations wracked her body, one after the other. She reached a hand behind her and, cupping his head, pulled his face down so that she could take his mouth in a quick, possessive kiss.
Holy fuck. The single thought resounded in her head as her legs wobbled under her. Her entire body shook just with the effort of standing.
A loud knock at the door had Jacob tensing behind her, his muscular arms flexing, tightening around her midsection at the sudden interruption. Who the fuck is that? Why now? She wanted to laugh aloud. Or cry. She took a solid breath and managed one shaky step away from him before turning to look at him.
He was still fully clothed, mussed, sexy, and rumpled, but fully clothed. He was flushed, the cowlick in his hair sticking up in the wrong direction, but the grin on his face was completely smug. Completely self-satisfied.
She couldn’t help her own grin, which pulled her cheeks tight, didn’t try to stop the flood of blood that pooled in her face. She shook her head at him, but when the knock sounded again, both she and Jacob turned to glare at the door.
“Lieutenant Simmone?” a voice called. “Are you in there?”
“McConnell?” Jacob said loudly, his voice hoarse.
“Yes, Sir. Ah…Captain Brennan needs you at the station ASAP and I’ve been sent to relieve you. Ah,” McConnell paused, clearly at a loss as to why they hadn’t opened the door.
Lola hurriedly started pulling her clothes back on. Jacob tucked in his shirt and padded over to the door in his socks. He cast one last look back at her to make sure she was fully dressed before opening the door.
McConnell glanced in hesitantly, clearly not completely unaware of what had been going on. Lola clenched her jaw and struggled not to laugh at the bewildered look in the young officer’s eyes.
“What is it, McConnell?” Jacob asked, his tone broaching no delay.
“It’s the Jane Doe, Sir. They’ve ID’d her. Captain Brennan needs your help. We ah,” he looked at Lola, flushed a brilliant red, “couldn’t get through on your cell.”
“Give me one minute,” Jacob replied, stepping aside to let McConnell in.
As Lola watched, McConnell came in and stood awkwardly by the sofa, not quite able to look her in the eye. She had a moment where she wondered if the room smelled like sex, but quickly dismissed the thought and the feelings of embarrassment that flooded her mind with it. She was a grown woman who had just had the single best orgasm of her entire life and she’d been the one who’d instigated it.
She felt her inner queen shaking her ass to her own beat inside her head, completely self-satisfied, as she watched Jacob hurriedly get his things together. When he had finally put his phone and wallet into his pocket and strapped his badge on, he turned to her. “This isn’t over,” he said.
She nodded mutely and watched him as he nodded to McConnell and then walked out of the door without a backward glance.
Chapter 11
“Deborah Duran. Thirty-years-old. Worked as a hostess at Garde-Manger, the fancy French restaurant on 5th and Rose. Single woman, lived alone, and, at least according to her employer, seemed to keep to herself as much as possible.”
Burns finished reading off his small notebook and glanced up at Jacob and Doug, both of whom stood looking at the board where they’d now pinned Deborah Duran’s photograph alongside Veronica Tally’s and Selma Holt’s.