Trace's Psychic Page 2

  But man, it was going to be fun trying.

  Miguel practically catapulted out of his chair when the women reached their table. He was grinning like a fool. Conner snickered and rolled his eyes at Trace. Trace laughed softly, but they also stood, each snagging a chair from a nearby table and pulling it over.

  Dylan said, “Ladies, in order of importance, my partner, Trace Dilessio, then Detective Conner Stern and then, the baby of the department, Conner’s partner, Miguel Torres.”

  The women took their seats and Trace wondered what he’d done to deserve the torture his body was putting him through. The little blonde was across the table from him, too far away to accidentally touch, but close enough that the scent of her seemed to have filled his lungs.

  Dylan indicated the redhead and introduced her as Sophie. The dark-haired one was Tiffany.

  It was all Trace could do to take his eyes off the blonde long enough to acknowledge the other women. His chest was starting to get as tight as his balls and from the look on his partner’s face, Dylan was clued in to the fact and drawing out the introductions just to make him sweat.

  “You all know Officer Storm O’Malley,” Dylan said, waiting for the other detectives to acknowledge her while shooting Trace a grin.

  Trace gritted his teeth. Oh yeah, partner, payback is going to be hell.

  Dylan’s grin only got more pronounced. “And finally, this is Aislinn Windbourne.”

  Trace used the introduction as an excuse to stare even harder. Christ, she was exquisite. Every individual feature looked as though a sculptor had labored so that it was flawless and fit perfectly with the whole.

  Her slightly husky “hi” was breeze-soft, her voice caressing as it flowed over his skin. All he could think about was covering her lips with his and tasting the words as they came out of her mouth.

  Goddamn, he had it bad. And if he wasn’t careful, every cop at the table was going to see it. That was the major drawback with hanging out with other detectives—observation was second nature to all of them.

  Dylan said, “Gentlemen, I’ve promised these lovely ladies that we’d buy the drinks if they’d sit with us.”

  None of the men complained. “No problema,” Miguel said and waved a waitress over. Within minutes the four women had their drinks.

  Trace would have figured Aislinn for a wine drinker. Instead she’d ordered a specialty coffee drink loaded with Bailey’s, Kahlua, a hint of something else and topped with whipped cream and a cherry.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Conner focus his attention on the dark-haired Tiffany while Miguel was a starving puppy who wanted to make a meal out of Storm. Dylan had settled on the redhead—no surprise there. Trace glanced at the clock behind the bar and wondered how long it’d be before Aislinn would give him the come-on smile.

  These kinds of setups usually played out in a certain predictable pattern because the women who came around to meet cops were already halfway to putting out. There was something about a badge, a gun, and a uniform that was irresistible, no matter what the cop wearing them looked like, or acted like. Trace had seen the scrawniest, no personality, wet-behind-the-ears cadet just out of the academy reel in a babe the first time he put his uniform on and went out in public. In fact, Trace had seen it happen so many times that he didn’t even blink anymore. Of course, being a detective, especially a homicide cop, had an additional perk. He didn’t have to wear the uniform in order to get the women.

  Aislinn took a sip from the coffee mug, then darted the tip of a small pink tongue across her upper lip to remove a thin line of whipped cream. Trace almost doubled over as a wave of lust surged through his cock. His hand made an involuntary movement in the direction of his lap. Erotic fantasies of him holding himself as she wrapped her lips around him and sucked him off played out in his imagination.

  Across the table, Aislinn stilled and dropped her eyes. A delicate blush spread across her face as though she was reading his mind.

  It didn’t take any great detective skills to see that she was going to need some smooth handling. He winced as a fresh batch of erotic images flashed through his mind.

  Christ. If he didn’t get her out of here soon, he was going to disgrace himself.

  Trace was used to women opening the conversation, asking about his cases and cuddling up close to let him know they were available. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had to get a woman talking. If anything, he usually had the opposite problem—shutting them up.

  He cleared his throat while his brain cells scrambled around for something to say that wouldn’t come across as an interrogation or manage to scare her off. But before he could think of something smooth, something that wouldn’t tip the other guys off to just how hungry he was for Aislinn, a slow song started playing and people wandered out to the dance floor. Aislinn’s eyes followed them. Sadness flickered across her face briefly and Trace’s heart did a little dive thinking maybe she’d just gotten out of a relationship.

  Fuck. What was wrong with him tonight? She was here, which meant she was available. Period. And if she was trying to get over heartbreak, then he was her man. A fast, hard fuck with no strings would fix her right up.

  Storm said, “Hey, isn’t that one of your father’s songs?”

  Aislinn half smiled. “Yes. One of his last ones.”

  Conner turned his attention from the delectable Tiffany. “Jessie Wolfe was your father?”

  The name was vaguely familiar, but Trace couldn’t place it. His tastes ran more to country. The ballad playing reminded him of old Jethro Tull stuff.

  Aislinn leaned toward Conner and something tightened in Trace’s gut at the way her eyes darkened as her attention focused on the other man. “Not many people remember him,” she said.

  Conner grinned. “He was amazing. I have all five of his CDs. Play ‘em at least once a month when I need inspiration.”

  Miguel groaned. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Musical talent is a genetic thing and you were born without.”

  The soft smile that Aislinn directed at Conner was like a kick in the gut to Trace. “What instrument do you play?” she asked.

  The big cop actually flushed, but then he surprised the hell out of Trace by giving Aislinn a straight answer. “I do a little bit on the electric guitar, but mainly the flute, like your father.”

  Aislinn said, “There was a sixth CD. It was never released.”

  “Can I get a copy of it?” Conner asked, leaning so close to her that it was all Trace could do to keep himself from jerking them apart.

  “Yes.”

  “Great. I’ll come by and get it.”

  Uncertainty flickered across Aislinn’s face, but she nodded and something snapped inside of Trace at that thought of Conner going by Aislinn’s place. He stood up abruptly and put his hand on her arm, pulling her from the chair. “Let’s dance.”

  Dylan snickered while Miguel had the nerve to laugh out loud. Both reactions rolled over Trace, barely noticed. Now that he was touching Aislinn, he was having trouble thinking at all. The invisible wire leading from her to his dick had just heated up another hundred degrees. His balls were already tight and his cock had leaked a few drops. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it through the slow dance with her body pressed to his, but there was no way in hell that he wasn’t going to use it as an excuse to rub against her.

  Fuck.

  Yeah. That’s what he needed all right. Maybe one dance would be enough of an intro and he could haul her out to the car and do her there, or better yet, on the beach. It wasn’t his usual style, but desperate times require desperate means. His house was half an hour away and he’d be damned if he was going to go looking for a hotel room. She’d be way too skittish for that.

  He pulled her onto the dance floor and into his arms, making sure that every possible inch of their bodies touched. They both tensed as soon as his erection was pressed against her soft abdomen. Trace tightened his grip around her and tried to keep from groaning a
t the exquisite sensation. Christ, this was incredible. He must have gone without too long. It had never been this intense before.

  Trace closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair. The smell of her was just as intoxicating as the feel of her. As he stroked her back, she relaxed into him and cuddled his rock-hard cock. “Yeah, feel what you do to me,” he whispered as he nuzzled her ear.

  She lifted her face and masculine satisfaction whipped through him at her passion-drugged expression. She’d go with him all right, and she’d be responsive when he rode her. He pulled her up against him even tighter and brought his lips down so that they hovered just above hers.

  Aislinn’s heart fluttered wildly in her chest. Her body felt as though it belonged to someone else tonight—to him. It had from the moment she’d felt his gaze on her.

  He was human and yet he beguiled her. Among her mother’s people such a reaction usually meant that a couple was destined to bond. Her heart opened and hope rushed in like a giant hand that might just as easily crush her as stroke her.

  She knew that here among her father’s people things were different in ways that she didn’t always understand. But even knowing that, Aislinn knew that she wouldn’t be able to deny him. He called to her in a way that she couldn’t refuse.

  A low growl sounded in Trace’s throat before he closed the distance and touched his lips to hers. She whimpered against his mouth and pressed more tightly against him. When his tongue pushed its way into her mouth and tangled with hers, she wanted to cry from the intimacy of it.

  While she’d lived with her mother, no one had ever cuddled or held her, not even in friendship. She’d been an outcast for so many years, separated by her impure blood. It had left her vulnerable and cautious. That caution had followed her when she was cast from Elven-space.

  Until now, she had not wanted to risk herself with any of the men she’d met. Trace’s nearness, his warmth and heated embrace were a battering ram against her fragile defenses. Aislinn moved her tongue against his, following his lead as her body prepared itself for him.

  The music faded into a fast song. Trace kept her close for several long seconds before ending the kiss and guiding her from the dance floor and out of the building.

  She shivered despite the warmth of the night air. Her heart thundered in her ears and her steps slowed. He turned and cupped her face, then covered her lips again with his.

  This kiss was more demanding than the one on the dance floor. His tongue stroked in and out of her mouth in a wet promise of what his cock was going to do to her. Aislinn whimpered and his hands moved down to her hips and pulled her tight against his erection. She was swollen and wet and needy, dazed by the desire flooding her system.

  He pulled away and took her arm, guiding her to a car, only to get a blanket out of the trunk before leading her down the concrete stairs and onto the moonlit beach.

  They passed several other couples, all lying on blankets, bare skin visible. Nervousness started to settle over Aislinn. Trace felt the change in her and stopped. Fuck, she was a skittish one. His cock was about to explode. There was no way in hell that he was taking her back before he got some relief.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he whispered against her lips before plunging his tongue into her mouth. She immediately whimpered and yielded to him. Christ, she was so responsive, so submissive. It was driving him crazy. Until now he’d thought he just liked wild, rough sex, with a little bondage thrown in sometimes, but this…this was something else altogether, something he didn’t have time to think too much about right now. If his cock and balls got any tighter, he was the one who would be on his knees begging.

  He dropped the blanket then stroked up her leg. She shivered against him, but didn’t protest when his hand slipped under her dress and along the wet crease of her panties. It was the last straw for him. If he didn’t get inside her he was going to end up coming in his pants.

  “Baby, I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered as his hands eased back up, taking her dress with them. He dropped the dress to the sand, almost panting at the sight of her standing there in her pale blue bikinis and see-through bra.

  Her eyes were lust-dark with a hint of nervousness in them. Trace thought his cock might just jump out of his pants. He unzipped his jeans and took himself in hand. “Take your bra off,” he demanded. Aislinn’s small pink tongue darted across her lip and he had to squeeze himself to keep from being done right then and there.

  She slid trembling fingers to the front of her bra and opened it. Trace groaned at the sight of pale pink nipples crowning perfectly formed breasts.

  “Now the rest of it,” he demanded, his voice barely recognizable.

  She licked her lip nervously again. As she complied, more pre-cum coated the head of his cock. It was ecstasy. It was torture. He wanted to lick and kiss and bite every inch of her, to bury his face in her pussy and suck on her clit until she screamed. But his cock was making its own demands and Trace knew he’d have to put off exploring her body until later. He stopped long enough to spread the blanket out and strip his clothes off, then he was on her, pushing her to the blanket and covering her body with his.

  Instinctively, Aislinn wrapped her arms and legs around Trace. He groaned and moved against her, running his rigid cock against her wet slit. She shivered, needing him, and yet a little afraid. He was so much bigger than she was, so much stronger.

  His hands curled in her hair and pulled so that she had to meet his gaze. His face was flushed, his eyes were dark, and his mouth was pulled tight as though he were in pain. A foreign, primitive thrill shot through Aislinn at the sight of him, of what need for her was doing to him.

  “Guide me into you,” he ordered and she slid her hand down to where his massive erection rubbed against her swollen, wet nether lips.

  Trace’s breath strangled in his throat. Her soft hand almost finished him off. “Now,” he demanded. If she so much as slid her fingers up and down his shaft he was going to come all over her.

  Not that he wouldn’t do that someday, but not today, not now. She whimpered again as she brought the tip of him to her entrance. The feel of her wet labia against the head of his penis brought a moment of sanity. “Fuck. I need a condom.”

  “It’s safe,” she whispered, tightening her legs around his waist.

  His hips bucked against her and his cock slipped inside just enough to make Trace almost plead for death. She was so tight that it sent exquisite pain right up his shaft. “Oh baby, you’re killing me,” he panted as he reached down to cover her hand with his.

  He worked himself in another inch, then pulled back, only to repeat the process over and over again. Her whimpers fed his hunger to the point that he couldn’t control himself. The urge to pound into her, to dominate her with his body whipped through him in an unstoppable need.

  Trace pulled her hand away from his cock and lifted it above her head then grabbed the other one and held it, too. Her eyes were fevered, wild, her face lifting to his, her lips begging for his. He covered her mouth and took her cries into himself as he slammed into her so hard and deep that he hit her cervix with every stroke. She screamed into his mouth and thrashed. Her back bowed in orgasm and her already tight channel gripped his cock so fiercely that Trace almost screamed himself. Fire raced down his spine and across his taut buttocks before rolling through his balls and shooting down the length of his cock as he came in an endless stream of pleasure so extreme that he knew he’d do anything to experience it again.

  He didn’t have the strength to pull out of her when he was finished. He only barely had enough strength left to hold his weight off of her long enough so that he could position them on their sides.

  Aislinn’s face was buried in his neck. Her body was shaking. Trace smoothed his hand along her back and buttocks until the shivering eased. “You okay, baby?” he whispered against her hair. When she nodded, he tightened his grip around her and kept her face in his neck. Christ, he ought to be asking if he was okay. Sex had never
been like that before. And he was still inside her—without a condom.

  Shit. He never took a woman without a condom. Never. Even if they swore they were on the pill. His trust didn’t go that far and an unplanned marriage because of an unplanned kid was not going to be part of his future.

  More shaken than he was willing to admit, Trace eased out of Aislinn, only to have every muscle in his body tighten when he saw the small traces of blood on the inside of her thighs. Like a visceral memory, pleasure so exquisite it bordered on pain ripped through his cock and up his spine as he remembered how tiny her channel had been. He had to close his eyes against the need to put her on her hands and knees and mount her. Christ! What was wrong with him?

  “Tell me you weren’t a virgin,” he said, flinching inwardly at the harshness of his own voice.

  Aislinn’s heart raced. She moved away from him and reached for her clothing. He grabbed her arm and pulled her against him, forcing her to look at him with his free hand.

  “Tell me,” he demanded again.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I wanted this.”

  “Fuck. Are you even on the pill?”

  Relief washed through Aislinn as the cause of his anger became clearer. One of the few things that her mother had prepared her for was this. There could be no pregnancy until there was a bond. “I’m protected,” she told him, not wanting to lie yet not able to tell him the complete truth.

  Trace stared at her for another tense moment, as a cop willing a suspect to confess and not as a lover. Some of the walls Aislinn had used to protect herself slid back into place, though the hope remained locked inside her heart. He let her go and reached for his clothes. Aislinn dressed quickly, flushing with embarrassment as she had to use the blanket to clean herself before slipping on her panties.

  When they got back to the bar, Trace shot his partner a silent command to move so that he could put Aislinn next to him. Dylan grinned and moved over.

  Sophie sent her a worried look and leaned close so that she could whisper, “Let’s go to the ladies’ room. Okay?” Aislinn nodded and followed her.