“I thought cops liked to live on the edge.” Her fingers ran up his forearm.
A flash of Russ intruded, dampening his desire. “Some, maybe.”
She froze. Her brown gaze explored his features, picking up on his sudden shift in mood. Her hand stroked the hair from his forehead.
“My brother Russ was like that,” he muttered, turning into her touch. “He lived every single day on the edge.” He paused. “I don’t. My life is routine. I get up, walk my dog, go to work, hit the gym, come home, walk the dog, nuke my dinner and go to bed...” His gaze ran along her lower lip. “And that’s the way I like it. Work throws me enough shit. My life is orderly, controlled—”
“Boring?” she whispered, biting his thumb.
He hissed, watching his thumb disappear between her lips. He reached for her then, pulling her onto his lap to straddle him. His hands settled on her hip, grinding her against him. He smiled at the broken curse that spilled from her mouth. “So if you’re looking for someone who lives on the edge, what are you doing with me?” he asked.
She shook her head, pressing against him. “Anything you want,” she answered before bending to kiss him.
He gripped her hip with one hand and wrapped his arm around her waist with the other. “Bedroom?” he asked as he stood.
“End—” her lips latched on to his earlobe “—of the hall.”
He moved forward, only stopping when she was on her back in the middle of her massive bed. Bold colors and patterns caught his eye. He glanced quickly around the room, instantly recognizing this as Cady’s space. Stacks of books, textured quilts, vibrant framed photos... This was where Cady spent most of her time... With who, he didn’t want to know.
“Patton.” She threw her shirt at him, then her shorts.
When her lacy red bra and black panties sailed past his ear, he stared down at her—taking his time. “Damn, Cady, you’re gorgeous.” He shook his head, bending forward to trace her sides with his fingers. Her chest quivered, her nipples tightening as his touch barely brushed the dark rosy peaks. She arched into the caress, seeking his touch. He couldn’t wait. He shrugged out of his clothes, slid her to the edge of the bed and buried himself deep inside her.
She cried out, her hands gripping his forearms. He stood, holding her hips up to meet him. It was too fast, the clenching of her body threatening his control. She opened her eyes, her lips parting as he continued to thrust into her. So deep, again and again... Again, so close to the edge. He sucked in a breath, concentrating on her pleasure first. He tilted her hips and slid so deep he was lost. She cried out then, her nails piercing the skin of his arms as her climax ripped through her. He watched, spellbound by the sight of her. He kept moving, thrusting until he had no choice. His orgasm was hard, tearing a groan from his throat while he clutched her to him. He ground into her, every muscle clenching from the power of his release.
8
SHE COULDN’T SEEM to catch her breath. Her fingers slid through his thick black hair, tugging ever so slightly. “You said something about fatal?”
Patton turned his head, breathing heavily. “Complaining?”
She s
miled, then giggled. “No. Not in the least.” She’d spent the last several hours tangled up in Patton. Hours of unrelenting, desperate, uninhibited and mind-blowingly satisfying sex. She felt strangely exhilarated yet totally exhausted.
He studied her until the rapid rise and fall of his chest slowed.
The longer he stared at her, the more nervous she became. She’d never brought anyone home with her. Ever. She liked her privacy, liked going home alone when the party was over. She was the leaver, not the one that got left. But this was different. She had the urge to scoot closer to Patton, to slide her arm around his waist and rest her cheek on his chest. Even now, she wanted to touch him. To talk to him.
What if she never got him out of her system? She swallowed, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling.
“I’d like to go with you to your office party.” His voice was low.
She turned her head on her pillow, surprised. “Why?”
“I want to.”
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but that wasn’t it. Her heart thumped a little. “I can handle it,” she argued, strangely pleased when he frowned at her.
“I’m not asking,” he bit back.
Why did she find his assertiveness such a huge turn-on? She rolled onto her stomach, resting her cheek on her hands. “You’re bossy.”
“I’ve heard that before.” His hand rested on the curve of her rear.
She closed her eyes, pleasantly exhausted. She sighed.
“Tired?” he asked.