In From the Cold

Chapter 10

Bobby POV


It had been a stroke of genius for Eames to ask Logan to put us up.

Because, yeah, we could've gotten a hotel.

But then it would be on one of our credit cards.

And we'd be on hotel surveillance video.

By going to Logan's, no one would have a clue as to our whereabouts.

Not Stahl.

Not Maas.

No one.

And there was really no good reason why anyone would even care…why they would come looking for us, but I wasn't going to take any chances.

Because believe me, after the past ten weeks of living under a microscope, the prospect of finally having a night of privacy was making me giddy.

And yeah, okay, some of that stemmed from the idea that I was going to get Eames alone, too.

A lot of it stemmed from that fact, actually.

Because I had a feeling from the way that she was looking at me that my some day soon was going to be tonight.

"So who else have you talked to since you've been back?" Eames asked Logan as the three of us walked the four blocks to his apartment.

"Just Wheeler," he said. "Well, and Deakins. I gave him a call last week. He's actually the one who got me the Nassau interview."

"What about Barek?" I asked him.

"No, why?"

"I don't know. I just thought…you know, that maybe there was something there."

"Yeah, well, I kind of thought that, too, but...I guess not," he said.

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't so I let it go. It seemed like maybe a sore subject for him.

"This is it," he said, nodding toward the lobby of a nice-looking apartment building. He punched in a code and let us inside. "Like I said, there's not a lot of room, but…"

"Is it wired?" Eames asked him.

"No."

"Then it'll be perfect."

He nodded in understanding and we followed him onto the elevator and up to the seventh floor.

"Thanks for the jacket," Eames told him once we were inside. She slipped out of it and then tugged self-consciously at her clothes.

"No problem. Um…let me get you…something. I'm not sure what I have, but it'll at least be dry. Or I can run over to your place and get you guys some clothes if you want."

"No," I replied, although I was touched by his offer. "I don't want anyone to see you and then associate you with us. The less people who know about you the better."

"Okay," he agreed. He left us alone in his living room while he went down a hallway, presumably to his bedroom.

"It doesn't look like he's done a lot of unpacking," I commented quietly, taking in the stacks of boxes along the far wall.

"And he seemed a little touchy when you asked him about Carolyn," she added.

"Uh huh," I remarked as I stepped up behind her.

Her skirt was still clinging to her hips and her legs and I couldn't keep from settling my hands on her hips and pulling her back against me.

"It was a great idea to come here," I whispered. I felt her shiver again, although this time I didn't think it was because she was cold.

I slid my hands around the front of her, enveloping her in my arms as I dipped my head and buried my nose into her hair. She smelled good, like rain and flowers and…I don't know what, but I couldn't get enough of it.

She tilted her head to one side, and I used my nose to move her hair out of the way so that I could kiss her neck.

"I found some…hey, come on guys. Jeez, I leave you alone for a minute and you're acting like a couple of teenagers," Logan muttered as he came back into the room. "Haven't you been living together since April? Aren't you tired of each other yet?"

He just didn't get it.

For us, it had been like ten weeks of foreplay.

And I felt a little bad for him because I was so glad that they wouldn't be listening, that I really didn't care that he'd be listening.

"Thanks for the clothes," Eames said to him, slipping out of my embrace and taking the proffered items.

"Well, they'll work for tonight, but if you guys are going to spend the weekend here…I don't know. I mean, I can find something for Goren, but…"

"We'll worry about that tomorrow," she assured him.

"Okay, well the spare room is right there," he said, pointing to the closed door across the hall from the bathroom. "And the bathroom, obviously, so make yourselves at home."

"Thanks," she told him. And then she turned to look at me. "Are you coming?"

She did not have to ask me twice.

"Yeah," I said quickly. "Um…thanks, Logan," I said as I moved past him. "We really appreciate it."

"Sure," he said dismissively. "I'm going to have another beer and watch some TV, if you need anything. Although I'm sure that you won't," he mumbled as he headed for the kitchen.

But I only barely registered his words.

Because Eames was already in the bedroom waiting for me.

I went inside and closed the door behind me.

It didn't have a lock on it, but I couldn't imagine a scenario where Logan would interrupt us.

Not without knocking, anyway.

And even if he did, I couldn't bring myself to care.

Because at the moment, Eames was standing in the middle of the room.

She'd left the light off, but there were no blinds or curtains, and the glow from signs and streetlights outside filtered through the window, backlighting her in a way that made me stop and stare.

And suddenly my urge to rush was gone. Instead I wanted to savor the moment.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," I managed to say, although I was still rooted to the spot.

"I think maybe I have some idea," she argued lightly.

Then she slowly unbuttoned her blouse while I stood and watched. She let the garment fall to the floor and there she stood in her tank top and skirt.

The same outfit that had sent me over the edge earlier today.

And even though the skirt hadn't clung to her then like it was doing now, she still looked damn sexy.

Then and now.

She reached for the hem of her shirt, but I was finally spurred into action.

"Wait," I said quietly.

I moved in front of her and used one hand to brush her hair back behind her shoulder and then I trailed my fingers down her arm.

"This is what I wanted to do this afternoon," I told her softly.

"What's that?" she asked, her voice barely audible, even in the quiet room.

"I wanted to touch you," I murmured.

"Then do it," she encouraged.

"I don't know where to start," I admitted.

"Anywhere you want."

I leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder and then I moved the strap of the tank top out of the way and grazed my lips along her collar bone.

She let out a sigh as I worked my hands just under the hem of her shirt, running my fingers along the waistband of her skirt.

Her skin was every bit as smooth as I'd imagined.

Every bit as soft.

I vowed to myself right then and there that before the night was over, I would touch every inch of her, with my hands and with my lips.

But I wasn't going to be in a hurry.

We had all night. All weekend, in fact.

So for now, I left her shirt on and instead felt my way beneath it. It was more tantalizing this way…feeling the terrain before seeing it first hand.

Apparently over the course of our time together, I'd come to enjoy torturing myself, drawing out the pleasure.

And it was pleasure, there was no doubt about that.

Remembering the feel of her thigh beneath my hand as we'd sat in the bar, I had the sudden need to touch her legs.

I seemed to have developed an obsession with that particular part of her.

Hell, with every part of her.

But still…so I made a quick assessment of the room and saw that the dresser would suit my purposes.

I leaned down and kissed her, gently at first and then increasing in intensity as I backed her up against the dresser.

With one hand, I reached out blindly and swept across the surface, shoving various items onto the floor, and then I grabbed onto her waist and set her on top of it.

My estimation had been dead-on.

The height was perfect.

Without releasing her lips, I moved between her legs and then immediately ran my hands under her skirt, along the outside of her thighs, moving upward until my fingertips brushed the edge of her panties. I slid my hands around to her backside, pulling her closer until she was flush up against me.

I was painfully hard, as I'd been for the past hour, but I'd been ignoring it for the most part.

Until now.

Until I felt the heat of her up against me with only a few of layers of thin fabric between us.

Her hands worked feverishly between us in an effort to rid me of my shirt, but I still had on the jacket and tie, so I was going to have to let her go in order to remove the clothing, but I just didn't want to do that yet.

Instead, I stroked my hands back and forth over her thighs and then slipped my fingers beneath the edge of the silk barrier.

She pulled her mouth away from mine and rested her forehead against my chest as her hands faltered in their movements. She said my name on a low moan as I continued to move my hand over her.

"I don't want to wait," she said breathlessly, once again tugging at my shirt. "Take this off."

"We've got time," I answered, although I was starting to agree with her. She let go of my shirt and with renewed vigor and amazing dexterity, she undid my belt and slacks and let them fall to the floor.

"Yes we do," she agreed. But then she said, "We've got time to do it slowly later."

She had a point.

I reluctantly pulled my hands from beneath her skirt and let her help me get rid of the rest of my clothing until at last I stood before her in absolutely nothing.

I paused for a moment as her eyes moved over me and I had a second of self-consciousness.

"Why did we wait so long to do this?" she asked rhetorically as she reached out and touched my chest and then began a slow trail downward.

I closed my eyes and summoned up the last of my self-control as she finally slid just one finger down the length of me.

"I thought we were going to do slow later," I managed to ground out as she repeated the tortuous motion.

"I'm just waiting on you."

And I guess she was, although when I looked at her, she had a smile on her face.

A beautiful, sexy smile that spurred me into action.

I grabbed onto that little tank top that had started this whole chain of events and I eased it over her head.

And I wanted to take the time to look.

I wanted to explore some more and learn everything there was to know about her body.

But like she said, we'd have more time for that.

Right now, we were both reaching the point of desperation.

I left her skirt on because I liked the way it looked, bunched up at the tops of her thighs, and instead I reached beneath it to pull off that last remaining obstacle.

She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling us close together again, but I hesitated for just a minute.

I moved my hands up along the sides of her face, running my fingers into her hair and then holding on as I kissed her again.

I needed her to know how much this meant to me.

How much she meant to me.

And then it occurred to me that I hadn't told her that I loved her.

Not without yelling it at her anyway.

"I love you," I told her, and as I said the words, I pushed into her at last.

And that first stroke almost put me over the edge.

I had to stop even though I'd barely begun.

I rested my forehead against hers as I bit down on my lip and silently begged whoever was listening to let me last at least ten minutes.

And actually, I did a lot better than ten minutes.

Not that I was keeping track or anything, but I know I lasted long enough.

Of all the times I'd tried to imagine what Eames would look like as I pushed her over the edge, none of my estimations were accurate.

And watching her reach that level of ecstasy was going to be my new favorite pastime.

It has got to be the most beautiful sight there is, and I was lucky enough to see it three times on that first go-round.

So yeah, I'd say I did okay.

My knees felt weak as I leaned against her, but I couldn't wipe the smile from my face.

"When can we do that again?" I asked her.

"You tell me," she replied, and even though I couldn't see her face, I could tell that she was smiling, too. "I'm just still kicking myself in the ass for not jumping you that first night."

"Well, that one night, you did almost grab my…you know. When you were sleeping."

"I wasn't sleeping."

"You…you what?" I asked, standing up straight so that I could look at her. She had a mischievous look on her face, and she gave me a little shrug.

"Well, you know you can't really blame me. You'd wear those gym shorts to bed every night, and you know, they really didn't leave much to the imagination but I wanted some hard proof that you were as…well-endowed…as you appeared to be."

"You were awake?" I said, still in shock at her admission. "And you were getting ready to stick your hand down my pants?"

"No," she said on a laugh. "I'm kidding. I was definitely asleep. You know I'd never take advantage of you like that."

"Well, next time you get that urge…please. Take advantage," I replied.

I was glad that we were able to joke about that now because I knew she'd been mortified at the time.

"I was curious though," she said as she ran her hands down my back and over my butt. "Because I did notice. How could I not?"

"And what's the verdict? Do I pass?"

"And then some," she assured me. "Now take me to bed."

"You need more hard proof?" I asked as I pulled her off the dresser and carried her to the bed.

"You have more?"

"Not just yet," I admitted. "I'll need a few minutes. But in the mean time, I have lots of things that I want to do to you."

"I like the sound of that," she said as she laid her head back on the pillow.

I sat on the edge of the bed, drinking in the sight of her as she stretched out comfortably next to me.

"You're going to like the feel of it even better," I promised.

Our weekend respite came to an end entirely too soon.

And I would be ashamed to admit how much time we spent in Logan's tiny spare bedroom except for the fact that I had way too much fun to feel bad about it.

And really, we deserved it.

It had been a long time coming, and like I said, ten weeks of foreplay was worth at least forty-eight hours of sex.

And making love.

Because we definitely did both with equal enthusiasm.

I caught a lot of hell from Logan, who by noon on Saturday had located his IPOD so that he could spend the rest of his weekend listening to classic rock instead of Eames calling to God.

Or at least that's what he said.

Personally, I think she said my name a whole lot more than His, but whatever…

Logan was a good sport about it, and I definitely owed him.

On Sunday night, it was time to go back to reality.

"I wonder how many messages we've missed from Maas," Eames pondered after we left Logan's apartment.

"And Stahl," I added. "Although we told them both that we'd be gone until Monday."

"I'm almost afraid to go into the apartment. What if they came in and added video feed or something? I mean, do you think they panicked when they couldn't find us?"

"I don't know. But if they did, then maybe you'll get your wish."

"I already got it," she quipped as she squeezed my hand.

"I mean about being on Youtube," I teased.

"Uh uh," she said. "No. Call your friend Jimmy and have him meet us over there. If they stuck cameras in there, I want to know about it."

So I stopped at a payphone and gave Jimmy a call. He agreed to come over, so then I pulled out my cell phone and called him again to request another cable service call.

And who knew if they were monitoring my cell phone, but I guess that was the point. Who knew?

"On Sunday night?" Jimmy asked, playing the part. "It's gonna cost you."

"That's fine," I agreed. "Just come over. There's something wrong with the picture again."

An hour later, we met Jimmy in the lobby of my building and the three of us went upstairs.

Twenty minutes after that, we had the verdict.

We now had three cameras in the apartment, in addition to four new bugs.


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