Hot in the City

How long would it be before she noticed that she had the wrong bag and contacted him? It was imperative that she initiate their next contact. It would make her feel in control.

He couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to seeing her again. The opportunity to get closer to Dr. Clark was a tempting one, and while part of the job, he didn’t usually feel this keen a sense of anticipation at the prospect. What he’d found so far, unless there was more in the files, required only a general surveillance. He wanted to learn more.

For better or worse.

It was a rationalization, of course. He also wanted to have sex with her; he could be honest with himself about that much.

Sitting back, he pulled the laptop toward him, starting to study the files, and waited for the phone to ring. He had no doubt that it would.

2

DELLA SLOWED HER PACE as she approached the restaurant where she was meeting Gabe Ross. She’d been shocked when she’d opened her bag and realized it wasn’t hers. Especially when she’d discovered the stack of papers with the Homeland Security letterhead and his badge inside. She’d closed it as quickly as possible, calling him immediately.

She’d been so flustered on the plane that she’d clearly grabbed the wrong bag.

Still, she thought with a smile playing around her lips, it had resulted in her seeing Gabe again. It had taken every ounce of nerve to call him after discovering the mistake and finding his contact information on the luggage tag.

As she approached the small café with tables on the sidewalk under a charming dark red canopy, she heard her name called and looked up to see Gabe standing by the door.

Della walked quickly toward him, seeing that he had her case as well.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, grimacing. “I could have had this sent to you, instead of dragging you all the way up here.”

He smiled, taking his case as he handed her hers. “This is much better. I wouldn’t have wanted the case in unfamiliar hands.”

“Oh, yes, I—” she said, dropping her eyes down, then meeting his again. “I didn’t look through your things, of course, but I did open it and saw you work for the government. I promise I only saw the letterhead and your badge and then closed it right away.”

“I appreciate that,” he said. “Your things should be intact. I didn’t know we’d switched until you called.”

Then one of the waiters, Gianni, appeared, smiling in her direction.

“Ciao, Gianni. Come stai? Avete una tavola libera?”

“Ho sempre una tavolo per voi, bella,” Gianni said fondly, grabbing menus and leading them to a table on the patio.

Gabe looked at her. “You speak Italian, too?”

“Not as well as I’d like to. I have a chance to go to Italy as a visiting lecturer this fall, but I haven’t made up my mind yet. So I practice when I can.”

“Grazie, Gianni,” she said, smiling at the older man. “This is Gabe.”

“Nice to meet you, Gabe,” the waiter said, and Della almost had to chuckle at how Gianni smiled, but his eyes narrowed on Gabe as he took their drink orders.

“A close friend?” Gabe inquired when Gianni disappeared back inside.

“I tutored his youngest daughter so she could improve her math scores for college, and I wrote her a recommendation. I spent several evenings at their home, and here at the restaurant, teaching her, so I did get to be friends with the family. They are a lovely group.”

“Did she end up getting into the school she wanted?”

“She did. Full scholarship to Cornell in veterinary science.” Della smiled, proud of her friend, and that she could help.

“Did you grow up here, in the city?” Gabe asked.

“No, I was born in Connecticut, and I spent a good deal of my teenage years in Boston.”

She stopped there, not elaborating that she had spent her teenage years in Massachusetts because she had been admitted to Harvard when she was fifteen. She’d finished her first PhD by the time she was twenty, and then a second at twenty-four.

“When did you start working at Columbia?”

“About eight years ago. New York is home now. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

“But you travel a lot?”

“I do. I do work as a consultant on several government and private-sector projects in addition to teaching, and I visit universities in different countries. It’s a great excuse to travel.” She paused as Gianni delivered their wine and took their orders, then turned the discussion away from herself. “So, you work for DHS? That has to be exciting.”

“Actually, most of my work is at my desk. I do a lot of strategic analysis, that kind of thing. Writing analyst reports and giving advice on operations.”

“Oh, I love logisitics!” Della said enthusiastically, and then bit her lip.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Oh, I know I can get geeky about things like that, you know, it can put people off.”

To her surprise, he frowned, and then reached over to touch her hand, which rested on the table by her wineglass.

“You shouldn’t hold back when you’re excited about something,” he said, staring into her eyes so intently that she couldn’t look away.

She also wondered for a second if he knew how excited she was about being here with him—and how he was touching her hand.

Then she chastised herself for making the same mistake she’d made on the plane, being too hopeful. This was just a dinner, and he was only being nice. He wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for the bag switch.

“Thank you,” she said, gently disentangling her hand from his—or trying. When she pulled away, he curled his fingers around hers, and squeezed. Then he let go.

Oh my.

“Besides, it’s not every day someone finds my work interesting, either. They imagine feds are always busting down doors or hauling in bad guys, but for me, it’s a lot of paperwork. Which is fine. I had enough action in the army.”

“You served?”

“Ten years, four tours to Iraq and Afghanistan.”

Della watched his features change as he talked, how his smile faded and his eyes became shadowed.

“And you came home and joined DHS?”

“I actually went back to college first, something I hadn’t had the time to do back before I joined the military. But school wasn’t my thing—never really was. My military experience was more valuable, for DHS, anyway. So I talked to some contacts, and that was where I ended up five years ago.”

“What were you studying in school? Where did you go?”

“Virginia Tech. I thought I’d do something with IT, but it wasn’t where my strengths were.”

“So you live in Virginia?”

“Well, D.C. now.”

She sighed, fighting the well of admiration and sheer lust that his story aroused in her. He was military, he served his country and he continued to do that. A hero.

A handsome, sexy, amazing hero. Here at dinner, with her.

Their dinners arrived, which was a good thing, before Della made a fool out of herself fawning all over him. As much as she loved the food here, Della barely tasted anything as she ate her chicken piccata.

And as she lifted a tender bite of meat to her lips, she met his eyes and realized he was watching her, his own dinner untouched as he observed her with an intense, hot look.

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head as if to break the trance, but his gaze found its way back to her mouth again as she took the bite. “I just...you’re very beautiful. I guess I shouldn’t say things like that. For all I know, you’re married, or with someone else.”

The words made her catch her breath and she coughed.

Gabe was around the table in a second, his arms around her, lifting her from the chair, but her breath came back before any action was needed.

“I’m okay...it’s gone,” she said.

He didn’t remove his arms, at least not right away. Della straightened, but that only brought their bodies closer together. It seemed natural to place her hand on his at her waist.

“Thank you, but to answer your question, there’s no one at the moment.”

Gabe leaned his face down into her neck, breathing in, and then he spoke low by her ear.

“I’m glad to hear that. Tell me if I’m overstepping, but do you think Gianni would wrap this up so we could take it back to your place?”

Her heart slammed in her chest. Was he asking what she thought he was asking? She wasn’t sure what to say...but Della knew what she wanted, and went for it.

“I think he’d do that, yes,” she whispered, lifting her face toward his so she spoke close to his mouth, just a breath away from a kiss.

“Good.”

The way he said the word, with so much sensual promise, made her skin ripple with pinpricks of sensation.

“Though I’m not really that hungry,” she added as she met his eyes when he stepped away.

“I am. Starving,” he said against her ear, and she shivered, knowing he didn’t mean he wanted their leftovers.

Della’s mind spun; this was a first in her life, for sure. Gianni knew to put dinner on her tab, and so she took Gabe’s hand and they walked quickly down the walk, less busy now after dark had fallen.

As they passed into the shadow of a streetlight under a huge tree, Gabe grabbed her hand, stopping her from moving forward. Stepping back under the tree, he pulled her up close and looked down into her face.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I saw you on the plane.”

He kissed her, and Della’s world turned upside down. She was pretty sure she had never been kissed before, certainly not like this.

Gabe took control, keeping her tight against him, sliding his tongue between her lips, urging her to open, which she did, so willingly she should have been embarrassed.

But she wasn’t.

Instead, she pressed in close, wound her arms around his neck and made a few forays of her own, nipping at his bottom lip and then licking the spot, making him groan in approval.

She was close enough that she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal against her belly, and that triggered her own libido, too. Still, somewhere in the back of her mind, all she could think was, is this really happening?

“Yes, it really is,” he whispered against her mouth. “As long as you want it to.”

She closed her eyes, her cheeks aflame. Good thing it was so dark. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

“I was thinking it, too,” he reassured her, dipping in for another kiss. “You’re delicious.”

His compliment made her blush and laugh softly against his mouth. No one had ever told her she was delicious.

“Let’s go,” she said, echoing his sentiment from the restaurant.

He grabbed her hand, and they hurried from their hiding spot under the sprawl of the tree, and within minutes she was opening the door and holding her breath, nerves assaulting her again.

She ignored her doubts and inner demons, turning to Gabe and taking matters into her own hands. She pressed up against him, flattening him to the wall of the entryway—he went willingly—and tugged him down by his shirt collar for more kissing.

Merely kissing Gabe was already better than any sex she’d ever had before. Della couldn’t wait to see what would come next.

“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he managed to say in between deep, wet kisses that she could easily find addicting.

She pulled back and, remembering the moment on the plane when she’d first seen him, she reached up and pushed the recalcitrant shock of hair, which always fell forward, back in place.

He smiled at that and captured her hand with his, bringing it to his lips.

“Upstairs, then?”

Della nodded and turned toward the stairs, but was swamped with sudden doubt. She’d never done this before, meeting a man she barely knew and taking him home to bed. Taking him to her room, her sanctuary, was too intimate, crazy as that seemed considering what they were about to do, and she faltered as she crossed the entry.

His hands cupped her shoulders, rubbing lightly.

“Everything okay?”

Was it?

What if she disappointed him? He was clearly more experienced and more at ease. What if...?

“I can leave. It’s okay, Della” he said reassuringly.

She took a deep breath and turned to face him.

“I’m sorry. Cold feet, I guess. Do you mind if we...stay downstairs?”

“Sure. Listen, let’s sit, have a glass of wine and talk. There’s no pressure. I’ve enjoyed your company, and whether this goes further or not, that doesn’t change.”

The sincerity in his voice did her in. That was sexier than anything, and Della was quite sure she wasn’t going to let him leave until after they had both gotten naked. But a glass of wine sounded good, too.

“Thank you. I do have a nice white wine that I haven’t opened yet. If you want to go in and sit, I can get it from the fridge.”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck, sending sparks dancing over her skin.

Della hurried with the wine, hoping Gabe didn’t change his mind, and she almost heaved a sigh of relief when she found him settled comfortably on the sofa, looking at an architectural magazine from her coffee table.

He looked so...right, sitting there. Relaxed and at home, incredibly masculine. And for the moment, all hers.

What was she worried about?

She’d uncorked the wine in the kitchen and brought two glasses with her, setting them on the table, noting he’d pulled the curtains. She filled one of the glasses and turned to him.

He put down the magazine, offering a curious look at the single glass.

She bit her lip, jumping in and convincing herself to take this chance to explore some fantasies, perhaps.

Handing him the glass, she didn’t sit next to him, but instead lowered down over his lap, straddling his strong thighs and enjoying the flicker of surprise—and approval—in his expression.

Della took the glass from his hand, dipped her finger into the bright, golden wine and traced it over his lips.

Heat sparked in his eyes, and she was relieved again that she hadn’t spoiled the evening. Leaning down to lick it from his mouth, she was surprised to feel him catch his breath.

So she did it again, though this time he caught her finger in between his lips and sucked the taste from her skin, and it was her turn to gasp at the incredible sensation.

She knew that fingertips were one of the most concentrated nerve centers in the body, but she’d never really considered them an erogenous zone before—until Gabe sucked in her finger a second time, sending a shock of pleasure down between her thighs, which tightened and squeezed his.

Gabe noticed. “Do it again.”

She did, dipping her fingers into the wine and then to his mouth, and the same sensation made her shudder, her eyes closing.

“It’s, um, been a while,” she managed, breathless. “I guess I’m extra sensitive.”

“Well, that makes this even more fun,” he said, taking the wineglass from her and setting it on the table next to the magazines.

He didn’t take his eyes from hers as he slid his fingers up under her tank top, lifting it up over her head. Then he removed her bra and gazed at her breasts with raw hunger in his eyes.

“Gorgeous,” he said roughly and took the glass of wine again, now wetting his fingers with the Riesling and tracing the wet, cold wine around one nipple, making her whimper. He licked it off and then he did the same to her other breast.

“Oh, yes,” she panted, tightening her thighs on his.

“More?”

“Please.”

He repeated the process until Della was so close to the edge of orgasm that she could only brace herself on his shoulders and focus on all of the sensations, but it wasn’t quite enough.

Until he put the wine down, and while still kissing her breasts he began to gently rub the heel of his hand between her legs.

Seconds later, she was crying out in a voice that didn’t sound like herself at all, the quick rush of satisfaction both offering some relief, but also making her hungrier.

Gabe pulled back, his eyes bright, his jaw taut with arousal. Looking down, Della saw more evidence of that, and smiled, pride surging through her.

She’d done that. To a man like Gabe.

What else could she do?

She drew her tongue along the strong cords of his neck and let one hand slip down to investigate that prominent evidence of his own excitement.

He growled, or groaned, a purely masculine expression of desire as she touched him, pressing her fingers over him through the fabric of his slacks. He turned his head, taking her mouth in a hot kiss that threw fuel on the fire inside of her. This time, touching wouldn’t be enough.

“You need to get those pants off.” Her voice sounded strange to her, breathless and urgent, saying those words so boldly.

“I agree,” Gabe said as she moved off of him, finding her knees slightly shaky as she stood in the middle of her apartment. It was surreal, watching him undress. He peeled off his clothes without preamble or self-consciousness, throwing them on the plush floral rug, and his shirt landed over a chair across from her. Taking her cue from him, Della peeled off her skirt and panties, and then they were both standing there naked in her living room.

It went far beyond any fantasy she’d had on the plane, or, well, ever. This moment with Gabe, looking at his strong, lean form, the impressive erection that jutted out from his thighs and the intensity in his face as he studied her—it was a memory meant for a lifetime.

He closed the distance between them in two easy steps, pulling her up close, flush against him. She was more than a foot shorter than him, so her face cradled against his pectorals, his shaft at her waist. She turned her head, rubbing her skin against the light sprinkling of hair, and darted her tongue out to taste him.

“Della,” he said, his tone a mix of protest and a need so thick in his voice that he didn’t sound quite the same, either. “Wait,” he said, letting her go so he could retrieve an item from his wallet, quickly covering himself. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, watching and absorbing every erotic detail.

She raised her eyes to his and he smiled.

“There are other things I want to do to you, lovely Della, so many things. But for now, I think we both need this,” he whispered as he lifted her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. “I fantasized about you like this, being inside of you, all of that time on the plane,” he added as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

“Really?” she squeaked as he put his hands on her backside, holding her in place.

“Really.”

The way he was holding her, she felt him, the thick weight of him against her inner thigh, then prodding against her entrance.

“Okay?”

“Oh yes,” she said softly against his ear, then nipped the lobe.

Her arms tightened around his neck as he pressed slowly inside, letting her take him bit by bit. Her forehead fell to his shoulder as he filled her. The delightful pressure drew a sigh from her as she closed her eyes, trying to feel it all. The sensation was overwhelming, and she wanted to simply bask in it, until he spoke, his voice rough.

“Kiss me, Della.”

She fluttered light touches over his mouth with hers, and then settled in, slower, deeper. Sucking his tongue between her lips, she enjoyed his taste. He started moving, bracing her in his hands as he thrust lightly. She moaned, her head falling back.

“Keep kissing me, don’t stop.”

Della wasn’t sure she could do it, the increasing friction and pace of his thrusts blanking her mind and taking her higher, but she did keep kissing him.

She framed his face with her hands, drawing back from the kisses as pleasure spiked. She couldn’t do anything but look in his eyes as her entire body was taken over, the pleasure rippling through every nerve ending, leaving her helpless to do anything but ride it out.

Seconds later, he took her mouth in a wet, hot kiss and groaned so deeply that she could feel the vibrations of the sound all through her. Her arms latched around him as he gave in to his own release, and miraculously triggered another intense, quick climax for her, too.

As his movements slowed, only their ragged breathing and gasps filled the space. Della was still holding on, though they were both slick with sweat, their bodies still clinging, still connected.

“Oh my,” she breathed against his skin, unsure she could stand on her own if he let her go.

He knew, and took her to the sofa, setting her down slowly, and then he sat, too, pulling her alongside him, cuddled against his chest.

“You are...incredible.”

“Me? I just hung on. You were the incredible one,” she said, smiling against his side.

“It’s like I told you on the plane. We’re great together. I had a feeling we would be. I’m glad we had the chance to find out.”

Della paused, her mind clearing somewhat.

“That sounds like a goodbye,” she said.

He tipped her chin up with his fingers, looking down at her. “Not yet. The night is young, and like I said, there are a lot of things I want to do to you, Della.”

Happiness surged and she bit her lip, flirting up at him from beneath her lashes.

“There are a few things I’d like to do to you, too.”

“I can’t wait to find out. But maybe a shower first?”

She nodded, her imagination swimming with the possibilities of what they could do to each other under the hot water.

“That sounds like fun,” she responded with a smile, standing and holding out her hand to him.

He followed her down the hall, and Della smiled secretly to herself, thinking that this was what she had been looking for. The blow-your-mind kind of sex that everyone talked about. She had finally experienced it, and now she was about to experience some more of it.

In fact, she wanted to enjoy as much sex with Gabe as humanly possible before he left, because she had a feeling this was going to be a one-night thing.

Taking his hand as she pulled him into the shower stall, she turned on the water and sank to her knees before him, fully intending to live every single fantasy she could, while she had the chance.

3

GABE WASN’T PROUD of himself as he snuck around Della’s house while she slept, but it was a necessary evil. After she passed out, he extricated himself from her arms and went downstairs for a more thorough look through her office and then returned upstairs. She was still asleep in the bed, naked, exhausted and wrapped around the tumbled sheets in such a sexy way that he thought about waking her up again. But he wasn’t done.

He slid his fingers along the edges of the built-in bookcases, a small flashlight held between his teeth as he noticed books on just about everything. A good deal of fiction, but also science, math, art and, more unexpectedly, sex.

Several books on the art of lovemaking and the biology of pleasure, he noted with a raised eyebrow.

Well, from his experience, she’d definitely done her research. She wasn’t terribly experienced, he could tell, but she was eager and imaginative. That was preferable, in his book.

He studied the arrangement of the books, looking for anything odd or out of place, something that had been turned differently or was misplaced, but found nothing. No bugs, nothing that would suggest she had been compromised in any way.

Except by him.

He investigated the lamps, her clock, the vents...anyplace someone might hide a camera or a microphone, but there was nothing.

Gabe was happy about that, for several reasons. He shouldn’t have been happy, but there was undeniable relief that Della appeared to have no involvement in his current investigation.

Though he still had to go through the locked files on her computer.

He understood now why she had balked when he’d asked to be taken upstairs earlier in the evening. This part of her home was clearly her private space. The entire home was lovely, but this was the place where she truly escaped.