Alex POV
I was sure that at some point in my life, I'd been this mad.
I just couldn't think of when.
I was so completely outraged by Carver's audacity that I couldn't even think straight.
I left the table, and I'd thought Bobby was right behind me, but after I went a few steps, I realized that I couldn't feel his presence. I turned to see him gripping Carver's hand across the table and speaking in a low tone.
I didn't have to hear him to get a feel for the words. But whatever the words, if they didn't include kill and six-feet-deep then they probably weren't strong enough to suit my needs.
I paused mid-way through the room and waited for Bobby to catch up. When he did, he took me by the hand and gave me a roguish smile before leading me the rest of the way out of the restaurant.
We didn't speak until we got onto the elevator.
"Well, that was fun," I said when the doors closed.
"Are you okay?" he asked, bringing our joined hands up to his lips. He placed a lingering kiss on my knuckles while he held my gaze.
"I'm fine. I'm sorry that I acted so…"
"Don't say it. You weren't the one being unprofessional. You let him off easy as far as I'm concerned."
"So did you."
"Did you want me to hit him?" he asked me with a grin. "Because we can go back up…"
"No, I'm sure your threat will make him have to change his pants," I joked. "Did you see the look on his face? He thought you were going to physically pull him across the table."
"You asked him if Carolyn was next on his list of potential wives. He wanted…"
"He offered to help me get our marriage annulled," I told him. The words had barely left my mouth before he reached out and hit the stop button on the elevator.
"We are going back up," he said firmly. And he wasn't smiling anymore.
"Bobby, I took care of it."
"He really said that? That he could get it annulled?"
"Yeah, but he's full of shit. First off, he was presuming that I would want to, which I don't. Aside from that, there's no basis. We weren't drunk at the time. It's been more than thirty days. And we've definitely consummated the marriage," I reminded him.
I was tired of being angry. I didn't want to waste more time on Carver. Tomorrow we'd get back on the case, but tonight we'd earned a little down time.
"We have done that," he agreed, and he slowly reached out to restart the elevator.
"Although, maybe we should…you know. Consummate it again," I suggested as I stepped into him. I ran my hands along his neck and into his hair. "Just to be sure."
"One can never be too careful," he added, wrapping his arms around my waist.
He leaned down to kiss me, but the elevator had come to a stop on the main floor and the doors opened up. He paused with his lips a fraction away from mine for a moment longer, and then he smiled and pulled back.
"Are you ready to go back to the hotel?" he asked me.
"To two double beds? Yeah, that should be interesting," I agreed as we went through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk.
"You know how I feel about beds," he reminded me. "They're so unrefined," he added using his best Carver accent.
I laughed out loud at his dead-on impression, and then I brought his arm around my shoulder so that I could snuggle against his side.
The laughter and the cold, fresh air was working wonders on my mood. Of course, being held by Bobby didn't hurt at all either.
"Maybe I'll pay up on that bet tonight," I offered in a husky voice.
He'd been reaching up to hail a cab, but his arm faltered at my words and he looked back at me quickly.
"Yeah?" he asked with unabashed interest. "Which part?"
"Get us a cab and then maybe you'll find out," I replied.
Within a minute, we were settled into the backseat of the taxi. Bobby had offered the driver an extra twenty if he could get us to our hotel in less than ten minutes.
"After all," he told me with a wink. "It's Carver's money."
The cabbie did us proud. We were in the lobby of our hotel in seven minutes. Bobby started making a beeline for the elevators, but the aroma coming from the restaurant caught my attention.
"We never did eat," I reminded him when he turned to look at me after I slowed my pace. "I'm starving."
"So am I," he replied in a low voice. His eyes deliberately swept over me from head to toe, causing my stomach to do a series of flips.
Was food really all that important? Seriously?
"Let's go," I agreed, tugging him once again toward the elevators.
"We'll order room service," he promised as we got on the elevator.
The doors closed and I didn't hesitate. I shoved him up against the mirrored back wall of the car and brought his head down for that kiss that he'd denied me earlier.
"There's probably cameras," he murmured when I broke my lips away from his and instead started in on his neck.
"I don't care. They don't know us here."
"Alex…"
"What?"
"This is our floor."
I looked at the reflection of the doors in the mirror and saw that they were open on the fourth floor.
"I don't know," I replied with a smile. "I think I like the mirrors."
He leaned down close and whispered in my ear, "Maybe you are a good match for Carver."
And then he took off running. I chased him down the corridor to the door of our room where he let me catch him.
I pinned him up against the door and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.
"I cannot believe you said that," I said, but I couldn't keep from laughing. I loved that he'd been able to make a joke about it. And he was right. The man did have an insane obsession with his own image.
"I love the sound of your laugh," he told me, suddenly serious again as he bent down to kiss me.
And then he turned us around so that I was the one against the door. He held his hands flat against the wood on either side of my head and kept the rest of his body firmly against mine.
"We should…probably go…inside," I managed to say, although I wasn't all that concerned. The hallway was empty at the moment, and he was doing that thing with his tongue…
"Probably," he agreed, making no move to get his key.
I shifted my head to the side to give him better access and he pushed his hips harder against mine.
"You should've worn a dress tonight," he mumbled as he moved his hand into my hair, grasping the strands and angling my head to his liking before moving in to capture my lips again.
I loved that he was taking control.
I loved that he knew what he wanted.
I loved that I was what he wanted.
I just flat out loved him, and having the idea thrown at me that I could be with someone other than him…well, that just made me love him even more.
"I didn't want Carver looking at my legs," I said breathily when he moved down to work his mouth over the exposed skin at my collar bone. I could feel his chuckle rather than hear it.
"Good idea," he answered and then he picked me up and brought me up to his eye level.
My legs wrapped around his waist and the change of position increased the friction between us so much that I was near the breaking point. And we were both still fully clothed. It was crazy.
"Let's go inside," I said again. Then I added in a hushed tone, "I need you…"
With a grace that only Bobby possessed, he pulled out his key and swiped the lock while keeping me held firmly in place.
"Hold on to me," he whispered as he turned the knob.
As if I would ever let him go…
I put my arms around his neck and he moved an arm under my butt to hold me up while he took us through the door. He let it slam closed behind us and then threw the lock into place.
"Decisions, decisions," he muttered as he turned around in a slow circle. "Our options are fairly limited."
The room was a standard hotel type with two double beds, a dresser with a TV on it, a small round table, and a hard chair.
"I know. There's no trapeze…no treadmill…how are people supposed to have sex in this room?" I teased.
My comment earned me a toss onto the bed. I landed inelegantly on my ass, but I only bounced once before Bobby was on top of me.
"You think you're funny, don't you?" he asked as he stretched himself out over me.
"Maybe," I said with a smile. He began working the buttons on my blouse with one hand while his other hand raked through my hair.
"I love you," he said, once again serious. He rested his eyes on mine and my heart melted just a little more. They were so expressive, so beautiful.
He finished with the buttons and then shoved the material aside so that he could run his warm hand along my skin. He shifted down and let his lips follow along the same path.
I settled my head back against the pillow and let out a contented sigh. I ran my fingers through his hair and along his face, loving the scratchy feel of the two-day stubble.
But as good as everything felt, it wasn't enough. I was too on edge. I had been all evening.
I reached for his shirt, but I couldn't get to all of the buttons because he'd moved too far down. He chuckled at my impatience and sat up for a moment to remove the obstructing garment. I followed him up and tugged at the t-shirt, pulling it up over his head.
Then I stood up and unhooked my slacks. I stepped out of them and my shoes at the same time. Bobby kept his eyes on me, so I made a point of taking it slow.
"Don't stop there," he said in a raspy voice. "Keep going."
He stood up and walked closer to me, but he didn't touch me. He waited for me to finish taking everything off and then his eyes tracked over me inch by inch.
It almost made me self-conscious.
Almost.
But his expression while he did so was one of admiration.
Adoration.
Worship.
I was tingling from head to toe and he hadn't even touched me in several minutes.
And then when he did touch me it was like electricity. He ignited a fire in me with just the barest stroke of his hand, and I was nearly done for.
"You need to lose the pants," I told him in a voice that brooked no argument. "Right now."
He smiled at me and held his hands out to his sides, so I gladly took over the task.
"Easy," he reminded me as I hastily unzipped the slacks.
"I would never damage the goods, honey," I told him without slowing down. I grabbed the boxers right along with the slacks and pulled them down his legs, and then in a move similar to earlier today, I used my foot to work them off of his feet.
Because I had better things to do with my hands.
He sucked in a deep breath, tipped his head back, and then let out a long low moan that damn near finished me off.
"If you keep doing that, it'll all be over but the crying," he warned me. He brought his eyes back to mine and the intensity in them was staggering. He was losing his hold over his control.
Then he grabbed me by the wrists and put them behind my back as he once again attacked my lips.
He kept kissing me as he walked me backwards until I felt the table against my butt. I thought he was going to set me on it, but he didn't.
Instead, he turned me around and bent me over until I felt the cool surface of the table against my flaming skin.
"Is this okay?" he asked. I knew he'd stop if I wanted him to, even though it would probably take every ounce of willpower for him to do so.
But why in the world would I want him to stop?
"Don't…even think…about stopping," I ground out. I gripped the far edges of the table with my hands and closed my eyes.
An hour later, we were sitting on the bed with a room-service pizza between us.
I was wearing Bobby's t-shirt, which was my attire of choice, and he was in his boxers.
"Tomorrow we need to go back to Garfield Park," he remarked as he started on his third slice.
"I think that's going to be our best bet. There or the street corner where he was picked up today. Maybe we should split into twos tomorrow and stake out both locations."
"That's a good idea. You think he's involved with the murder?"
"I think that Carver thinks he is," I responded. "That's why he wants to find him. He doesn't care about helping him. Carver only cares about himself."
"And you."
I threw a pepperoni at him, but he just smiled at me and put it in his mouth.
"I don't think we have to worry about that," I told him. "My husband scared him pretty good."
"Yeah? Well, I'm going to make him bleed pretty good if he comes after you again," he joked.
"You're kind of hoping he does, aren't you?" I asked him with a curious smile. Bobby usually avoided physical violence, but I had a feeling that this would be one of those rare exceptions.
"A little, yeah," he admitted with a sheepish grin. I noticed that he had a smudge of pizza sauce on the corner of his mouth.
"Me, too," I told him as I set down my pizza and leaned closer to him. I wiped his mouth with my thumb and then brought it to my lips, but he caught my wrist. He pulled my thumb into his mouth and sucked it clean.
That simple action had me ready for round two.
He must have recognized the look on my face because he tossed the rest of his slice into the box and then shoved the box onto the floor.
"We forgot about the bet," he said.
"We seem to forget about everything in the heat of the moment," I countered.
He still had my wrist in his hand and he took his time bringing each finger into his mouth one by one.
"Let's finish it," he suggested. "Only we'll say that you won."
I looked up at him, and my heart skipped a beat again. He was so sexy with those soulful, deep brown eyes. His hair was rumpled from where I'd run my fingers through it and his skin was marred from my lips...he was perfection.
"Yeah?" I asked him. Of course, I'd still hold up my end of the bet later, but for now...who was I to argue?
"Yeah. Definitely."
TBC...
