Blind Justice Read online

  “More like being in the field.”

  She nodded. “Do you miss it?”

  Every day. “Sometimes.” Was she psychoanalyzing him, or just making conversation? He took a swig of the bright, hoppy ale. “But engineering requires problem solving skills too. Creative application of all those equations. The root of engineering is ingenuity, after all.”

  “I wasn’t maligning your choice. Just curious.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s fine.” He reached into the cupboard overhead and grabbed a deck of cards. “I left the Air Force because of Evan, and I have no regrets. I had a good, long run.” Shuffling the cards with a practiced hand from years of downtime, he asked, “Want to play?”

  “What’d you have in mind?”

  Anything to keep his mind off tomorrow, to pass the time. “Poker?”

  “What are the stakes?”

  Asking for kisses might be coming on too strong, even if they had been naked in bed two hours ago. Somehow he’d fucked that up. Asshole that he was, he wanted her again, despite knowing there was no future for them. Even if he didn’t have to make his choices with Evan in mind, he couldn’t make plans based on one smoking-hot tumble.

  Glancing around for inspiration, his gaze landed on the kitchen drawer. “Silverware.”

  She laughed and slid her toe up the side of his leg, nearly launching him out of his seat. “I have a better idea.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SILVERWARE? SO MUCH for ingenuity. “If we’re going to play poker,” Tara said, throwing off any worry about her future, “we might as well make it worthwhile and play strip.”

  Might as well go all in.

  Across the small Formica table, Jeff’s cheeks turned red and his golden brown eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  They didn’t need to have this conversation again. She had no delusions about what he could offer. Tomorrow everything might change, but tonight she had him all to herself and she didn’t plan to waste it. She was choosing to have a fling that would go nowhere, and while she knew it would hurt, there was also power in having the choice.

  Not out of desperation for a physical substitute for love, that intense desire to feel wanted, or some misguided belief that he might be The One. But she’d already half fallen for this man. She wanted to make him happy. She wanted to be happy with him for as long as she could.

  Beyond that, she had no control.

  After his initial shock, Jeff sat back with a smug look. “Then prepare to get chilly.”

  Tara grinned. Game on.

  Her pulse picked up as he dealt the first hand. The air between them thickened with anticipation.

  An hour later, she still wore her panties and T-shirt, while Jeff was down to his boxers, his well-defined muscles and the dark hair scattered across his chest messing with her focus.

  Maybe she should fold and have him take her shirt, just to fuck with him. He had a killer poker face. She hadn’t found his tell yet, and his expression never seemed to change regardless of his hand. Maybe because when either of them lost, they both won.

  Still, she had a competitive streak. She wanted to win the game.

  He dealt another round and took another card, giving her no signs whatsoever. He could have a royal flush or zip.

  She stared at her cards, hoping for inspiration. So far, she had deuces. Nothing to get excited over. She was decent at this game, but he must have found a tell. Or he was just lucky.

  Maybe it was high time they both got lucky.

  Tara folded.

  In unison, they rose from their seats.

  Her body flushed as he stared down at her with a wicked smile. “Finally.” He toyed with the hem of her shirt, his knuckles barely skimming across her stomach, like the brush of a cat’s whiskers.

  The effect was like a full-on caress, heat skating across her skin. His gaze slid to her hard nipples chafing against her T, and he licked his lips.

  “T-shirt?” he asked.

  She nodded. Take it off already! Resisting the urge to scream, she stood still, waiting, dragging the suddenly heavy air through her lungs.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She lifted her arms. What was he waiting for?

  Slowly, slowly, he slid the fabric up her torso, letting it caress her hypersensitive skin and slide across her breasts before tugging it gently over her head.

  For a moment, he just stared at her, the tent in his skivvies growing larger. Her entire body flushed at his open appraisal.

  Unable to stand the intensity of his dark gaze for another second, she cocked a hip and struck a pose with elbows bent, one hand in her hair and the other on her waist. “You like what you see?”

  “You’re sexy as hell,” he breathed.

  She wasn’t really. Her breasts were too small, she was too short, and she lacked womanly curves. But men liked a pretty face and a willing body. For a long time, she’d been insecure enough to oblige.

  Tonight, though, she’d meant to lighten the mood, not incite a compliment. “You’re pretty hot stuff yourself.” He was lean and cut, without being massive. Simply beautiful.

  She gave him a cheeky smile.

  He trailed his fingers down the side of her face, down her neck, and spread his warm hand wide over her collarbone, making a tortuously slow slide toward her breast.

  She pushed to her toes, grasping his head for balance and some semblance of control, and looked deep into his eyes. “I forfeit.”

  “Thank God.” With a groan, he pulled her close and bent down to capture her mouth. His hands were warm and gentle as he caressed her breasts, lightly kneading, tentatively pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers.

  “Yes.” She gasped and arched, pressing her chest into his palms.

  He looped an arm across her upper back and kissed her hard, diving deep as his free hand stroked her with greater confidence. With his teeth, he tugged her lower lip, nibbling, sucking, softly biting, until she was dizzy with lust.

  With eager hands, she explored his firm chest, the grooves that crossed his abs and carved his hips, and dipped her fingers into his boxers. His body twitched at her touch and he hummed his pleasure, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck to her breast. She wrapped her fingers around his hard penis, stroking the hot, smooth skin, eliciting a low curse from him that made her smile.

  She wasn’t naive enough to believe that his arousal made her special. Most straight men would have the same response to any half-naked woman. But she still felt a thrill at having this man at her mercy in this moment. She wasn’t some nameless, anonymous fuck for him, even if this wasn’t the start of a long-term relationship.

  He sucked her breast with increasing pressure and she cried out at the acute pleasure, gripping him harder, the ache between her legs intensifying. She wanted him inside her. Now.

  Careful not to hurt him, she freed his erection and slid his boxers down his long, hairy legs, using her foot to push them from his muscular thighs to the floor.

  Stepping free, he kicked the underwear toward the back of the RV and sank to his knees, pulling her lower body tightly to him as he continued his ministrations with her breasts now at mouth level, sucking, pinching, rolling. His cock slid between her lower thighs and she squeezed him tight, no longer able to reach him with her hands.

  Instead, she raked the back of her nails over his scalp. Goosebumps rose on his skin and she ran her fingers through his hair, down his neck, and along his shoulders.

  She would never tire of touching him.

  His hand trailed down her side and around the back, triggering sparks as it slipped beneath the elastic of her low-cut panties and along the crease of her buttocks. Tara held her breath, closing her eyes against the spinning room as she arched into his touch. Yes. Please.

  As he slid a finger into her aching core, he bit gently on her nipple.

  Tara cried out. Oh, God. Stars burst behind her eyelids and she panted as he stroked in and out,
adding another finger to fill her, while still working her breast. “Jeff.” She hadn’t planned to beg, but good Lord, the man had her at his mercy.

  “Don’t move.” He released her and rose, red marks marring his knees, his erection straining proudly against his stomach.

  Something dark and thrilling in his voice kept her feet bolted to the floor. He was the epitome of masculine beauty as he strode into the bathroom. A glorious monument to the male form.

  A squeak came from behind the door, several drawers opened and shut. Tara’s heart pounded. She shivered. The night was cooling and they hadn’t turned on the heater, but with luck, she’d soon be hot and sweaty in Jeff’s arms.

  He returned with a strip of condoms and threw them on the sofa. “They’re new enough,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Feeling unexpectedly shy facing his naked magnificence, she took his hand and let him pull her toward the couch.

  Wrapping her in his embrace, he widened his stance and lifted her onto her tiptoes for a searing kiss that rekindled her inner flame and set her pulse racing. He brushed his mouth over hers, softly, peppering her lips with light kisses, sucking them between his teeth, gently biting.

  Her heart skipped. Trailing her nails down his chest, she reached lower and gripped him firmly, her control quickly shredding.

  Without warning, he flipped her to face the couch, one hand latching onto her breast as the other slid down between her thighs. Dizzy and struggling to catch her breath, Tara reached up behind her and clasped her arms around his neck.

  His warm mouth charted a course from beneath her left ear to the curve of her shoulder while he stroked her into a delirium.

  She was drowning in sensation, body thrumming from the tiny shocks of his touch assaulting her from all directions. His hot, wet mouth against her neck, his rough hand on her breast, his strong fingers in her slick folds.

  “Put your hands on the back of the couch,” he said, his breath against her cheek triggering goosebumps. He nibbled her earlobe, then immediately soothed it with his lips and tongue.

  Helpless to refuse, Tara braced her hands on the back of the couch, legs spread, bare feet cool on the tile. Heart thrumming with anticipation, she looked over her shoulder.

  He stood right behind her, body flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat, rolling a condom over his erection with shaky hands.

  It was his hands that did her in.

  She wasn’t the only one feeling out of control, desperate. Maybe even a little nervous.

  In that moment, she fell. Totally. Completely. In love.

  Well, damn.

  Wasn’t she the queen of horrible choices?

  As if she’d had a choice. Just look at him. How could she not fall in love with a man who tried so hard to give her what she liked? Who was intelligent, thoughtful, protective, goddamn sexy, and so clearly loved his son.

  And he was about to make love to her, even if the “love” part was one-sided.

  Enjoy the moment.

  What else could she do?

  Their gazes clashed and his eyes darkened as she swiveled her hips shamelessly.

  “Tara, Jesus,” he said on a shaky laugh. He finished with the condom and shifted closer, carefully pulling her head back for a breath-stealing kiss.

  Jeff was about to go up in flames. Tara was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen in his life. When she bent forward over the couch and wiggled her hot ass while staring deep into his eyes, he nearly came on the spot.

  Goddamn. He needed to be balls-deep inside her when it happened, making sure she had the best orgasm of her life first. A memory to keep him warm on the cold, lonely Colorado nights.

  Closing the gap between them, he gave in to the urge to tip her head back for a devouring kiss. He held her gently even as he freed his wilder impulses, hoping to hell it was enough. I like it a little rough. Her words had been tumbling through his mind in the hours since she left his bed, stimulating all kinds of X-rated fantasies.

  He wasn’t sure he knew how to give her what she wanted, but he could be…demanding, insistent. He could pinch and suck and bite. With care. Every time he pushed the edge of his comfort zone, she rewarded him with a gasp or moan or deeper arching of her back.

  Christ, he was in so much trouble.

  How would any other woman ever do it for him after her?

  Stop thinking and enjoy it, dumbass.

  Settling a knee onto the firm couch cushion, he trailed his lips along the graceful line of her shoulder, addicted to her sweet skin. He caressed her petite breasts with one hand, while his other hand traced her curves and then sought out that spot that made her squirm against him, panting and begging.

  “You’re so incredible,” he whispered against her soft neck. “Do you have any idea how much I want to fuck you?”

  “Mmmm.” She bounced her sexy backside. “I want you too.”

  He wasn’t usually much of a talker, but her responses had him verbalizing happily.

  Pressing two fingers inside her slick body, he asked, “Are you ready for me?” He was so hard it hurt.

  “God yes.” She groaned and bent forward, widening her legs.

  Holy hell. She might just kill him.

  He guided himself to her core. Gripping her hips, he slid all the way home in a single stroke, grunting at the surge of pleasure.

  Tara gasped and he froze. Had he hurt her?

  “Don’t stop,” she said, squeezing him tightly.

  His eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “You feel…incredible.” He started up a steady pace, pleasure encircling him like a cyclone. He couldn’t look away from the place between her thighs where he thrust to the hilt and retreated, over and over, her gorgeous buttocks round and smooth.

  He gave one a light swat.

  Tara gave a swift inhale and pressed back.

  Lust jolted through him, breaking his control. He pumped his hips with abandon and smacked her butt again, leaving a faint pink mark that he smoothed over.

  Her head dropped and she groaned, arms locked, knuckles turning white as she gripped the couch harder. “So good.”

  The sound of their bodies slapping together mingled with their moans and heavy breathing, swirling around them in an erotic soundtrack that fed his frenzy. His legs trembled with the effort to stay upright as he plunged deep, one hand lashed across her hips while the other frantically worked to bring her to the edge.

  “Oh, God.” Tara’s limbs stiffened and her inner muscles contracted around him in rolling waves.

  Jeff’s climax slammed through him like a tsunami, shattering him as he cried out.

  Holy shit.

  He couldn’t catch his breath.

  Beneath him, Tara’s high-pitched moans crescendoed. Her body turned limp, and she slumped forward against the sofa cushion.

  She lay there a second, breathing hard. “I think I died.”

  He laughed, puffing with pride as he continued to move slowly inside her, bringing them both down gradually. And hell—who was he kidding?—loath as hell to leave the sweet cocoon of her body. “La petite mort?”

  “I get it now.” She rose to standing and leaned back against his chest, her hands resting on the arm he still had locked around her hips.

  Snagging his shirt from the back of the dinette, he laid it on the seat so he wouldn’t bare-ass it on the upholstery, and swiveled, settling her in his lap as he reluctantly pulled out. After removing the condom and placing it carefully on the floor, he closed his eyes and inhaled the scents of Tara and sex. His new favorite perfume.

  His breath slowed and his body cooled and sleep buzzed nearby. “Was that, um, wild enough for you?”

  It was her turn to laugh, that wonderful, tinkling sound that never failed to lift his spirits. “You have doubts?”

  “Not really.” Sweeping her hair aside, he kissed the back of her neck and she hummed her pleasure. Goddamn she was dangerous. “But, you can tell me if there’s something you want me to do differently. Or, if ever
ything was perfect.”

  She chuckled. “Fishing for compliments is unseemly.”

  He grinned against her skin, unable to stop touching, kissing.

  “I think I gave you all the feedback you needed. Next time, pay more attention.”

  As if he could focus on anything else while touching her. Next time he’d— The smile slid from his face. What the hell was he thinking? There wasn’t going to be a next time. Sure, maybe he could get her onboard for another round after he recovered, but come morning it was back to the real world. Back to Evan, school, Colorado.

  Exactly what he wanted.

  But he wanted Tara too. For as long as he could have her.

  Was there a way to make it happen? He couldn’t ask her to leave her job, her friends, and her home based on less than two days together. And he shouldn’t be making life decisions with a naked woman in his lap.

  Hadn’t he learned anything from his time with Bridget? He couldn’t regret getting Evan out of the deal, but if ever there were a warning for how much a pretty face could make a man stupid, she’d been it. Not that he’d felt half the connection to Bridget that he did with Tara.

  Maybe because he already knew Tara was a good person. Even if the other guys at work hadn’t made it clear how much they respected her, Jeff had known her long enough to understand her character and work ethic. She was nothing like his ex.

  Tara was compassionate, intelligent, beyond beautiful, and a goddamned dream in bed. Or on a couch. Probably anywhere.

  And there were so many other places he’d like to get her naked.

  But he also liked being with her when they were fully clothed, in a public place. Or talking over dinner, alone in the RV.

  Jeff was confident Evan would like her too, once he recovered from losing his mom. If such a thing were possible. Jeff had been twenty-seven when his own mother died six years ago, and he still wasn’t over it.

  And what if Evan fell in love with Tara and it didn’t work out between her and Jeff? The boy would be crushed again.

  Jeff couldn’t risk it.

  Tara slid from his lap, wrapping her arms across her chest. “I’m going to take a shower.”