Tender Loving Passion. Donna Hill

took the last step that separated them. Her body melded with his like putty, molding itself to the hard lines of his from the broad expanse of his chest to his muscular thighs.

      Mia tilted her head slightly upward and brought her mouth to his.

      Steven groaned deep in his throat when the softness of her lips connected with his. He maneuvered her so that her back was against the frame of the archway to the kitchen.

      The sweetness of her tongue set off a firestorm in his gut. His erection was electrifying and so suddenly powerful that the world receded and an uncontrolled need took its place.

      Her long, slender fingers grazed along his body, stoking the growing fire of desire. She reached up and pushed down the fragile spaghetti straps of her thin top and tugged it down, exposing her bare breasts.

      Steven nearly hollered. Instead, he feasted on one then the other, as Mia’s short nails dug into his shoulder blades and her whispers of “Yes, yes, yes,” rose in concert with the thunder that boomed in the night.

      He dropped to his knees, pulling down her cutoff shorts and pink thong in the process, until he came face-to-face with her hidden treasure. Like a moth to a flame he was drawn to her, taking the tiny pearl between his lips and teasing and stroking it with his tongue until her inner thighs began to tremble and her knees grew weak.

      Steven rose, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants in one smooth motion, freeing himself, his phallus hard and pulsing. He lifted her off the floor and she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and locked her arms around his neck.

      She was hot and wet when Steven pushed up inside her and he nearly exploded with that first thrust.

      Their coupling was hard and fast, the need between them so intense that fulfillment was the one and only goal.

      And when it came, their cries of ecstasy rose above the drumroll of thunder and was more brilliant than the lightning that kept silhouetting the Manhattan skyline.

      * * *

      Mia sat behind the closed doors of her office, reviewing the data that she’d collected on Michael and Avante Enterprises. He was currently the management company for Mercury Entertainment, which groomed and produced new R & B stars. She did a check of the client list and found it to be impressive, to say the least. She recognized more than a few of the names. According to the information that she had, Avante was in the process of planning a major red-carpet event to debut its new artists.

      She smiled. She had what she needed. Although Avante oversaw the operations, they subcontracted out all the work.

      Mia turned on her shredder and one by one she slid the pages through. Couldn’t be too careful.

      All night, even after that incredible erotic romp with Steven, her thoughts continued to drift back to Michael and the job at hand. She knew how weak she could be when it came to Michael. She had maintained her strength by staying away from him all these years. That was about to end.

      She knew that she was tempting fate by opening a door that would best be left closed. However, she’d sworn an oath to the Cartel: not only would she uphold the tenets of secrecy, but she would execute her assignments to the best of her ability for the ultimate good of society, without regard to personal interest.

      Mia believed in the mission of the Cartel to right wrongs and to protect the welfare of the innocent, as an aid to law enforcement. She took it all very seriously, and she could not allow her personal issues to hamper her ability to get the information that she needed on the escort service.

      Besides, she was a big girl. She could handle herself with Michael. Plenty of time, space and other people had passed between them—enough to make what she had to do strictly business.

      Strictly business, she counseled herself, as she dialed the offices of Avante Enterprises.

      “Good morning. My name is Mia Turner, MT Management. I’d like to speak with Mr. Burke.”

      “Please hold.”

      Mia squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath. She wondered if the receptionist could hear the uncontrollable pounding of her heart that was surely vibrating through the phone.

      Another voice, more controlled, less perky came on the line.

      “May I help you?”

      “Yes. I’m calling to speak with Mr. Burke.”

      “Mr. Burke is very busy at the moment. Maybe I can help you.”

      She hadn’t realized that Michael had risen to the point of having two screeners for his calls.

      “Perhaps if you let him know that it’s Mia Turner...”

      There was a moment of deafening silence.

      Ms. Control cleared her throat. “He really cannot be disturbed, but I’ll be happy to take a message.”

      Mia’s slender neck jerked back. She was about to blurt out, “Say what?” but remembered who she was—a professional.

      “Why don’t I do this—I’ll call him on his cell a bit later. Perhaps he won’t be so busy then,” she said, playing the power game. Of course, she didn’t have Michael’s cell-phone number, but this chick didn’t know that. “And who am I speaking with?”

      “Brenda Forde. I’m Mr. Burke’s executive assistant.”

      I’ll just bet you are. “Thanks so much for your help...Brenda.” She hung up.

      Mia sat back and tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. She could have left a number for him to call her back, but that would have defeated her purpose of pretending to have the upper hand. Besides, she wasn’t quite ready for Michael to have a direct connection to her.

      But now that she’d lied and said she’d reach him on his cell phone, she’d have no logical reason to call back.

      While she was pondering her next move, Ashley buzzed her on the intercom.

      Mia stabbed the flashing red light. “Yes.”

      “There’s a Michael Burke on the line for you.”

      Mia nearly choked. “Who?” she asked with all the calm she could summon.

      “Michael Burke. Could that be the Michael Burke of Avante Enterprises—the one that Felicia and Linda said referred them?”

      “I...suppose so.” Her heart was galloping at breakneck speed.

      “He’s on line two.”

      “Thanks,” she managed. “I’ll take it.”

      For several moments she stared at the flashing red light. Would he sound the same? What did he want? How would she respond?

      The unanswered questions rushed through her head. Finally she picked up the phone.

      “Hello?”

      “Mia...”

      The deep bass of his voice rolled through her in waves. For an instant nothing stood between them, but then she remembered what she had to do.

      “Michael, how are you?”

      “Actually, quite well.”

      Silence. Then they both spoke at once.

      “You first,” Michael conceded.

      “I wanted to thank you for the referral. I must admit I was surprised when they told me it had come from you.”

      “Why?”

      The one-word question was suffused with a melancholy tone. Although it was asking the obvious, the inflection of his voice was asking her for an answer she couldn’t give.

      “I...had no idea...”

      “What, that I’ve followed your career?”

      He had? “Well...yes.”

      “I