TWO DAYS LATER...
16 MAY—9:11 A.M.
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
Bare chested, and wearing black jeans, Noah Randall twirled a white, short-sleeved dress shirt around his body and slid arms into the covering, concealing the Walther PPQ45 on his right hip.
The apartment’s doorbell rang a second time.
His bare feet slapping the wood flooring, “Keep your pants on,” he approached the front door. “I’m com—” he peeked through the peephole and recoiled a heartbeat later. A frown materialized on his face. What is... He twisted the doorknob and swung open the barrier. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you, too.”
Randall let a meager smile come and go. “Sorry. I’m just a little surprised. I thought you would have left by now.” A beat. “Hello.”
The visitor went to tiptoes and peeked over his shoulder to see into the residence. “Do you have company?”
He shook his head.
“Would you like some?”
The newly deputized thirty-six-year-old, five-eleven, one-seventy United States Deputy Marshal gave his caller a quick down-and-up, taking in her physical qualities.
Late twenties. Five-ten. Athletic figure. Long blonde hair. Long legs. Under a black leather jacket, full breasts pushed the limits of a white, low-cut blouse.
He lifted his gaze and admired her pose—weight shifted to one foot, fingers shoved into back pockets, head slightly cocked to one side.
Following her own once-over of his handsome features—black, well-manicured eyebrows above brown eyes; dark ‘ten o’clock shadow’ covering a tanned face; sculpted pectoral muscles—she snaked her right hand into his open shirt, touched fingertips to his hairy chest, and nudged him further into the dwelling.
Randall took two steps backward.
Lifting her free hand to cradle the back of his neck, she tested the waters with a soft peck on his lips.
He laid hands on her waist.
Unsure if the gesture was an obstruction or an invitation, she listed away and regarded him. Seeing the same desire in his eyes that burned in hers, she shut the door with an outward turn of a brown hiking boot and went in hard and fast with her next lip-lock.
Randall stripped her of her jacket and blouse, tossed the garments, and mashed his mouth against hers.
She peeled the shirt off his shoulders while driving him backward.
He hit the wall.
She pressed her belly to his.
Their arms entangling, they French-kissed.
Randall slid hands to her waist and tugged on pants that held firm.
She unbuttoned and unzipped her blue jeans.
He pushed the attire down over her backside and cupped bare skin where he had expected to touch underwear. His blood pumping harder, he hesitated for a fraction of a second.
Sensing the interruption, she smiled. “Not what you were exp—”
He continued his oral assault.
She kissed him and pulled back, “Not what you were expecting, was it?” before lunging forward and taking his lower lip into her mouth.
The fingers of his left hand slipping under the waistband of her thong, his other hand fiddling with the clasp on her bra, he scrunched his eyebrows. After what happened a few days ago, I wasn’t expecting anyth— his scowl deepened, and he envisioned his work partner.
Panting, “Oh, Noah,” the blonde woman tilted her head and drew his face deeper into the side of her neck, “I—”
He grasped her shoulders and pushed her upper body away.
Her eyebrows bunching together, she spied him. “What’s wrong?”
“This can’t happen. I made a promise,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “a promise that this wouldn’t happen.”
“So did I, but,” Faith Mahoney grabbed a few quick breaths, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left Jessica’s place that night.” She pulled up her pants, turned around, and squeezed her temples between her palms while eyeing the floor. “I’ve...”
Randall glanced at the red strings from the thong he had tugged on; they now arched over her waist, well above the waistline of her jeans. He grimaced. I might’ve gotten a tad overzealous with those.
“...I’ve never felt this way for anyone else, Noah.” She rubbed her forehead. “This is all so new, so strange...these feelings I have running through me.” She spun left to face him. “I...”
Having managed to unhook her red bra, he watched the lingerie’s right strap drop to her elbow while the lace cups stayed in place.
“...I can’t let this go. I can’t let you go...at least not without knowing where I stand. With you. With each other. Us.” A beat. “You must feel the same about me.” A moment passed. “All the time we spent together...the cramped cabinet, the looks, the verbal exchanges. I saw it in your eyes. I heard it in your voice. I know you want me, too.”
Randall planted hands on hips and gawked at the floor, his mind taking him back to that under-the-sink cabinet they had shared in Seattle...
“Is there any way you can reach the magazine pouch on my belt?” Randall eyed his Walther. “I want to top this off.”
Trying to stay quiet, Faith finagled her hands down his shirt while wriggling her body.
He sucked in his flat stomach to give her more room. “It’s on the lef—” he flinched and pressed his back against the wall a little harder. “That’s not a magazine.”
“Oh, isn’t it?” she whispered.
He heard a smile come through in her reply. “I said on my belt...not below it.”
“Well, in my defense, it does have the same size and firmness of a magazine.”
Randall grinned inwardly. She was dirty and grubby that day. Her hair was greasy and stringy. Her cheek was bruised, and caked-on blood clung to her neck. And yet, his mind’s eye saw her in the hideaway’s subdued lighting, she was beautiful.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Noah. Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll,” Faith lifted her right arm straight out to the side and pointed, “walk out that door, fly back to Seattle, and you’ll never see me again.” She folded arms below her breasts. “Is that what you want?”
He glanced at her before continuing his staring contest with the floor.
Giving him a full minute to reply, and receiving only silence, she cozied up to him and gently clutched his upper arms. “That’s what I,” her voice was calm, “was hoping you’d say.”
Randall squinted at her. “What about Jessica? I,” he looked down and shook his head, “I don’t want to betray her,” before lifting his eyes to take in Faith a moment later.
“Just let me handle my sister...while you,” she pushed her pants down to her upper thighs and guided his hands to her bare butt, “handle me.”
Feeling her smooth skin, his heart rate increasing, the front of his jeans growing tighter, Randall regarded her. I don’t know where this is going. But I do know one thing, Miss Mahoney. You’re an incredibly sexy... he hoisted her into the air.
Faith wrapped arms around his neck and legs around his waist.
...vibrant woman. And I really...
She locked her ankles behind his back and dipped her head to kiss him.
...really want to get to know you. French-kissing her the whole way, Randall carried Faith across the living room and into the bedroom before donkey kicking the door shut.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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