Echoes of Desire: Dance of Deception

~BRIANNA~

*With a shift, I let my dress slip from my shoulders and fall to the floor, revealing the lingerie beneath. Nathan's eyes darken, as closing the small distance between us, his lips claimed mine in a possessive kiss, his tongue tangling with mine, both hungry and tender. Then, slowly, oh so tantalizingly slowly, he backs me toward the bed, his kisses travelling down my neck, across my collarbone, before they move lower still, his teeth grazing the sensitive tips of my nipples.

Afterward, laying us onto the bed, my moans joined the sound of fabric tearing as Nathan ripped my panties off.

With a gasp, I arched off the bed, my arousal growing, further dampening my already swollen and wet folds. As his mouth finds my center, I bite my lip to keep from screaming out. His tongue, a masterful artist, begins stroking and teasing until I'm writhing beneath him, begging for more. My nails, digging into his shoulders, leave half-moons of pleasure pain on his skin.

*The sound of our muffled gasps and the rustle of sheets, the only sound in the room. As I feel myself climbing toward my orgasm, my stomach tightens with my need, and just when I think I can't take any more, he pulls away and enters me in one swift, powerful thrust. His hips begin rocking into mine with a rhythm as old as time itself. Each stroke, sending waves of ecstasy through my body, building towards my release...*

The sound of shattering glass jerked me awake, and I rolled over, my eyes immediately swinging about the moonlit room and landing on Mr. Friskies, his feline eyes blinking innocently at me, a shattered vase lying before him on the floor.

With a groan, I flopped back on my makeshift bed and closed my eyes, my body still pulsing from the dream.

~~

Two hours later, Nathan Pierce's velvety voice purred across the phone. "Where are you! Why aren't you taking my call? Well, anyway. We got another victim. I'm headed to the scene now."

As always, my insides melted at the sound of his voice. God, it was the sexiest damn thing on the planet, and pure poison to me. From the moment I'd laid eyes on him again, I knew I was in trouble...bad, bad trouble. At thirty-four, six-foot-two, two-hundred-thirty pounds, with thick, lustrous, slightly wavy, black hair, plus a sinful smile that could make a nun cream her panties, Nathan was everything wet dreams were made of.

We had been lovers once. But three years ago, life had stepped in the way and I'd moved back to Oklahoma after my mom had been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. I'd left under a veil of uncertainty; I didn't know if or when I'd be back. I didn't regret the disruption of my life in my mom's time of need, as it had given me those last few precious years with her, but when I had returned to my old job within the bureau, I found Nathan had married. The fact had broken my heart.

The easy camaraderie we had once shared as partners and lovers, was gone. Instead, what we had now was...strained.

After showering-washing away any remnants of the erotic dream-I'd entered the living room and glanced at my phone, seeing I had a message, I'd peered at the screen. Surprise had jolted through me at seeing Nathan's name. What the hell?

I couldn't help thinking. Nathan never calls me. The thought ricocheted around in my head like a ping-pong ball in a box. Instantly I'd felt a sinking in my gut...knowing if he was calling...it was bad news-we no longer had the type of relationship that would make it otherwise.

At one time... Well, anyway-tightening my towel a little more securely, my hair dripping all over my shoulders and arms, as well the floor, I'd listened to his message.

"Got another victim. I'm headed to the scene now. See you in a bit." Well, I couldn't help thinking, that was half-civilized. Most times he just shouted at me.

Now, pumping gas in my pickup, my phone vibrated in my pocket. When I answered, I was immediately hit with, "Where the fuck, are you?" For a minute there was a pause, then he growled low, "Why haven't you been answering my calls?" No sooner had the low sensual drawl of his words vibrated through me, then he blasted me with, "As your team leader, you damn well better start answering when I call. And whatever has climbed up your ass these last few weeks, get it the hell out before I write you up for subordination!"

Pinching my eyes shut, I shook my head. "Are you finished?" Was he wanting a fight? Yeah, we could so go there.

He growled something else, but his words were drowned out by a car coming to a stop in the lane before me. Its radio was blaring, and the speakers were thumping.

I clenched my teeth at the driver's obvious disregard for others. "What? I didn't hear you." At the same time as I yelled the words, I shot an aggravated glance at the long line of cars waiting to inch their way forward and through the stoplight. I'd been waiting for my chance to pull out of the gas station, but I was quickly losing patience. It appeared everyone in town had taken the same road at the same time, creating a bottleneck at the traffic light.

"I said-" Nathan started, before stopping, he snapped instead, "Goddammit, Brianna-what are you fourteen? Turn that loud-ass shit off, will ya?"

All the emotional pain I'd felt over the last couple of weeks exploded into a temper-tantrum. "For real? You must be a fucking idiot if you think I'd listen to my music that freaking loud. You have to be the most, deaf, blind and I'm thinking, dumbest jackass I've ever met Nathan Pierce, and right now-I don't like you much, so write my ass up," I shouted.

Several seconds of silence passed, and I heard the frustrated breath he heaved on the other end. "Where the hell are you?" he finally muttered.

The words had no more slipped past his lips, when I spotted his pickup as he turned the corner. He was heading toward where I sat waiting for my turn to pull out onto the road and I snarled, "At the goddamn gas station right damn in front of you!" then hit the end call button, tossing the phone in the seat beside me.

~~

As I grumbled to myself about full-of-themselves jerks, I followed Nathan to the bureau. After parking, I fell into step beside him as we made our way toward the bureau, silence reigning between us like an afghan wrapped around a Grandma.

This is who we'd become, what we'd been reduced to. I didn't like it, not at all, and I was a mess because of it. I felt bad about shouting at him, but I wasn't ready to apologize. He'd shouted first and he wasn't apologizing.

After entering the bullpen, he stalked off toward his desk, and I followed several steps behind. Man, his mood was black this morning! But, like it or not; after the dream I'd had? Yeah, I needed it. I needed us to be angry and distant with each other, for each moment I was around him the reason I couldn't have him became of less importance; my need, overruling my morals.

When I finally made it to his desk, I came to a stop, taking in the papers he was tossing with an uncaring attitude toward his desk from the filing cabinet. As he continued to toss papers, I watched as some hit their mark, while others fell to the floor.

As if sensing I was watching him, he looked up, glaring at me. "Where the hell is the Aikins file?" he thundered.

"You know, you're a real jerk," I snapped back, glowering at him as I crossed my arms over my chest. He wanted to be an ass...let's see who could be the biggest.

Eyes rolling, a snarl curling his lips, he barked, "Get the damn file for me without any lip. Okay?"

I raised an eyebrow and just looked at him without moving an inch. "Can we say, pretty please?" I drawled, my tone that of what one would use with a preschooler.

Nathan's jaw dropped, and his eyes bugged. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I shook my head, the movement firm and unyielding. "Nope, you want me to help you find the file, say pretty please, first."

Another eye-roll before, "Fine-pretty please, Brianna, will you find the Aikins file for me?" Afterward, he glared at me.

Marching over to the cabinet where he stood, I shoved him aside. Then, pulling out the drawer marked with the letters A-D, I reached into the A section and pulled out the file needed. Turning, I stomped over to his desk, and slapped the file down on its surface, further disturbing the mess. "Hmm, imagine that-it was in the A's for Aikins-A-i-k-i-n-s!"

Pushing aside all the other papers strewn about the top of his desk, he ignored my sarcasm, however, grunted his thanks. Opening the file, he sank into his chair and dug through the file's contents. After a few minutes, he glanced up to where I was still standing. A dark frown appeared across his features as he eyed me. "Sit, dammit."

Heat infused my whole body, and the hair ruffled on the back of my neck. "I'm not a fucking dog! You can't say, sit Boo-Boo and expect me to do as you order," I snapped.

After my outburst, the only sound heard in the room was the slap of paper as he flipped pages. Finally, letting out a sigh, he raised his hands. Using his index fingers, he rubbed at his temples, before squeezing his eyes shut.

Shoving his chair back, he lurched from the seat and stalked over to stare at the wall of flat-screen TVs.

He stood, motionless, gazing at their blank faces, his breathing erratic. Finally, he turned to face me, "I'm sorry."

Gazing into his face, I found myself fighting the need to tell him I loved him; that, he was ensconced so deep in my heart he had become its rhythm. But I said none of that. No, instead, I said, "Apology accepted."