“Phone calls don’t do it.”
“I know.”
He swayed from side to side, and while the motion was gentle, there was a fierceness to his grip. “I’ve tried to stay away, Savannah. I know how busy you are.”
“It’s been an endless week. I’m glad you came.”
Setting her down a bit, he raised his head. For a minute he did nothing more than take in the look on her face. Then he covered her mouth with his.
The knowledge came almost instantaneously. He didn’t need to stroke her lips softly or open them wider or fill her mouth with his tongue, though he did all those things because his hunger was so great. The instant he kissed her he knew.
The feeling was there, all of it, the heat, the need, the desire. It was as hot and sweet and desperate as it had been on Saturday morning, and as uncontrollable. From a simple kiss came far-ranging cries. The promise of heaven hovered.
“Is there a lock on that door?” he whispered against her lips. The urgency in his voice was that of his body, and it mirrored hers.
“Yes, but we can’t—”
“—do it here?” His mouth was open on her neck. He felt her fingers clutching his hair, and the stinging drove him higher. “Sure we can.”
Savannah’s insides were buzzing, she wanted him so badly. “But this is my office.”
He spoke quickly. “We could use the desk, or the chair, or the rug—the rug—we could use the rug.” Cupping her bottom, he ground her hips to his. “The rug—I won’t hurt you—you could get on top.”
“Jared, my God,” she whispered brokenly, then wailed softly, “I can’t. I can’t. I have a witness waiting for me in the conference room.”
Jared went utterly still for a minute, then groaned. A small voice in a distant corner of his mind told him he had been through this before, but a louder voice was quick to refute it. He had never wanted Elise this way. Never.
“I’m sorry,” Savannah said. Her eyes held even a deeper apology, and her hands moved gently in his hair to atone for the discomfort they’d caused. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He caressed her cheek, brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “When, then?”
“The weekend?”
“I can’t wait that long.”
“Tomorrow night?”
“Tonight.”
It sounded wonderful. “But I have to work. My most important witness takes the stand tomorrow.”
“We can make it late.”
“Butyouwork then.”
“We can work around my work. Come to the station as soon as you’re free.”
“It may not be until ten-thirty or eleven.”
“That’s okay. Take a cab, and bring an overnight bag with you. I’ll drop you at work in the morning.”
“Uh, I’ll need a little sleep somewhere along the way.”
“You can sleep in my bed.”
“You have a bed at the station?”
He grinned. “A biggie. I live there. The second and third floors are mine.” Putting a finger under her chin, he closed her mouth. “I have to sleep sometimes myself. Where did you think I lived?”
