Pushing Her Limits (Masters of Adrenaline 3)

He gestured toward the hallway vaguely. “They’re probably by the pool. I thought I’d show you around the place first. You didn’t get much of a tour the last time you were here, other than my room and the kitchen.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to see the garage?” His face went deadpan. It felt almost like a dare.

What man showed a girlfriend the garage first on a house tour? And so purposefully. Another hint? Was he wondering if she’d take out a camera and snap some pictures then call them in to the department?

She shrugged and tried to seem like a typical girl. “I guess so.” She wouldn’t be taking out her camera, but she would look for signs of illegal activity. Maybe she could pretend to use the bathroom later and sneak back in to write down the make and models. Then later she could cross-check if any had been reported stolen.

Still wearing that serious expression, Atlas opened a door to the left then clicked the lights on. A huge space opened up, housing several beautiful cars, all in pristine condition. She leaned to one side and saw that all of them had license plates on them.

Atlas stared down at her, his lips in a firm line. He looked . . . angry. Was he hoping she’d confess? “What do you think?” he said.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she answered, “I’m not much of a car person, but they look . . . nice.”

“Nice?” He seemed to be seething.

“I didn’t know you guys were collectors. Must be good money in the computer business.”

“Very,” he replied in an eerie voice. “My dad also inherited a fortune when his mother sold a plot of land her family had owned for generations to one of the casinos so they could expand. He gave most of it to us when we turned eighteen. We pooled it together to get this house and buy a few . . . toys.”

“Typical.” She chuckled.

“It also helped start up my business. I was lucky enough to land a few contracts with big companies.” He moved toward a silver convertible. “That’s what financed this baby.” Smiling, he patted it affectionately. His mood seemed to have improved in the span of a few seconds. God, he was confusing. Did he know she was a cop or not?

“You’ll have to take me for a ride some time.”

He arched a brow. “Oh I’ll take you for a ride all right.” His eyes darkened as his gaze latched on to her. Then he stalked toward her looking very much like a predator. Goose bumps prickled her skin.

When he was just a few feet from her, she put a hand on his chest to stop him. “Isn’t your family waiting to meet me?”

With a long sigh, he nodded. “Yes. Damn them.” He kissed her forehead. “Too bad. You’d look damn good on the hood of my car.”

“Mmm,” she hummed in approval and reached up to kiss his lips. “Maybe next time.”

He kissed her deeply, making her dizzy.

“Why do you taste like cherries?” he said when he pulled away.

“That’s my lip gloss.”

“Fancy. Are you trying to impress someone?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe I have a hot date after this and—”

He grabbed her braid, making her cut off with a gasp. “A hot date, huh?”

“What?” She managed to fake bravado even though her brain felt like melting into subspace already. “We never said we were exclusive. In fact, we never said we were anything at all.”

He seemed to think for a moment then growled, “You wore my collar the other night.”

“For play. It’s not like it’s still on me right now.”

“You want a collar? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“No,” she answered firmly. But part of her was jumping up and down shouting yes. That was a bad fucking idea. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what collars meant. “I’m just saying, we haven’t labeled anything. But I was teasing about the date. I’m dressed up for you, dork.”

Slowly, he released her then arched a brow. “Did you just call me a dork?”