Her cheeks burned, but there was no denying it.
“I hate to leave,” he said, patting her hip, “but I have to get some work done.”
“Oh, okay.”
He got up, zipped his jeans, and fastened his belt.
“You’re welcome to stay here for the night, or I can give you a lift home if you want.”
“No, I’m fine.” She rose, too, then found her clothes and put them back on before realizing most of them were still downstairs in the club. He was still shirtless.
He pulled her close and hugged her.
“Apparently, you know how to find me, so I won’t bother giving you my number.” He chuckled.
She winced.
“If you show up on my doorstep again, though, Mila, I’ll assume you want me to fuck your ass.” The threat and silence hung between them for a long moment as she gazed up at him in aroused horror. Having seen his cock, she couldn’t imagine that it wouldn’t hurt like hell. “Understood?”
When she didn’t respond, he kissed her forehead. Like an idiot, she had to fight not to melt into the affection.
He gave a lock of her hair a playful tug. “See you around. Maybe.”
When he walked out he didn’t look back. She watched him go, wondering what he knew, and whether she’d have the guts to see him again.
***
The backlight of the computer screen made her tired eyes want to close.
It had been forty-eight hours and her body was still exhausted and sore. Twisting in Atlas’s grip had been better exercise than most classes the gym offered. It reminded her of the police academy, when she’d discovered muscles she hadn’t even know she had.
And her ass . . . There were bruises. She’d been shocked to spot them in the mirror the following morning. Small ones, but still. And for some crazy reason, she liked them.
Her mind hazed over as she stared at the cursor, which seemed to be impatiently waiting for her to be productive.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
“Palmer!”
She startled then spun in her chair. Her boss was standing a few feet from her desk, his face twisted in a scowl. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve called your name three times now.”
Oh fuck.
“Sorry,” she replied, straightening her shoulders. “I’m . . . focused on the report from the Bennington case.”
He glanced at her empty screen then arched a brow.
Fuck again. “Uh, I’m still gathering my thoughts.”
With a quick head shake, he muttered, “Okay. Listen, I need an update on the car thefts. How’s the investigation? Do you have evidence this . . . Larson family is involved?”
Even hearing the name Larson made her cheeks heat. God, if anyone found out just how close her investigation had led her to their number-one suspect, not only would she be kicked off the force, but she’d be the laughingstock of the precinct. Good cops didn’t end up in the beds of criminals.
But god did she love being in bed with Atlas.
Roberts cleared his throat and she realized she’d been spacing out again.
“I’m working on it. Getting close, I think.” Too close.