He wanted the killer, yes, his no-good sadistic brother, but right now all he really wanted was to take little Megan Banks in his arms and … God, his cock was about to explode.
She pushed from the wall with a soft smile and moved toward him, enough for his nostrils to flare in his need to inhale all of her. The air became oxygenless; heavy with need, charged with longing. The breeze outside moaned, as though the rasping against trees were erotic. Her incoming scent continued to draw him in, make him think of his childhood, and strangely, of his kids, how they would be if he ever had a couple. A daughter with her eyes, her hair.
Megan wrapping her legs around me … pulling me closer …
His breathing accelerated as he tried to maintain control, stay in place, but her eyes were shining with welcome, and holy God, were those hard little points her nipples against her top? She licked her lips. “So,” she said, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
He took a step. Bad idea, Cody, stop stop stop. He couldn’t help himself and reached up, stroked her lips with his thumb. His hand trembled; she shuddered at first touch.
Ecstasy swarmed him when she closed her eyes, a bubbling sensation in his veins as he allowed himself the luxury of stroking that mouth, driving himself way too hot just watching the way her breath changed. “So,” he rasped back.
She held her breath, but when she opened her eyes, there wasn’t desire there, but fear. “Someone’s watching us.”
Silence reigned. A knife of possessiveness sliced through him, and he pulled her close, hugging her while he assessed his surroundings, whispering in her ear, “Don’t move.”
Her body felt perfect against his, perfectly female, and just to give the monster a little of what he had for his entire existence begged for, he cupped her ass to distract whoever was watching them, keep them from noticing his other hand, reaching into his jacket. As he felt the grip at the tip of his fingers, he continued to savor the shape and pulled her tight against his aching groin.
“It’s him, isn’t it,” she whispered, pulling her top over her shoulder and smashing herself against him, her voice scared. “He’s here.”
The prickle at the back of his neck didn’t lie.
“Yeah.” Almost there; he curled his fist around his gun. “Give me one more second.”
Had they not felt a presence, he could’ve kissed her and urged her to tell him that she wanted it, his cock, against her, inside her, but when she squirmed restlessly closer against him, he knew she did, and he knew he couldn’t do shit about it, never would, and it drove him to the edge.
He groaned, keeping her pinned against his body as he turned, and called out, with his gun firmly in his grip. “Ivan, I need to talk to you.”
It was his twin, it had to be. The only damned bastard that had ever crept so easily past Cody’s radar. Megan shouldn’t be here, dammit.
A noise came from up above, and when a book landed splat! three inches to her right, Megan jumped in alarm.
Cody curled an arm around her waist, bending over so that only she could make out his whisper. “You’re all right, you’re with me.”
She nodded fast enough to get dizzy. “What does he want?” she squeaked.
“I don’t know, but I sure as hell would like to find out. Let’s talk to him for a bit, hmm?” He raised his head to scan the room, sure that Ivan was somewhere up in the rafters. “Ivan, if it’s you, come out here and talk to us.”
A voice broke through the space as if spoken through a microphone. “Last time you talked to me you tossed my ass in jail, brother.”
Cody almost stumbled back when his brother’s baritone struck him. Holy fuck, genetics were amazing. Cody could’ve been doing the talking, their voices were identical. And then it barreled into him: and he knew exactly how this bastard would have managed to escape prison.
Get his hands on a badge and a suit and—whoa, a crimson tie—and he’d look just like Cody.
Heart pounding at the possibility of Ivan being smarter than he remembered, Cody searched for him up in the wood beams and the second level library, but failed to find him. He’d be climbing up there by now, he’d already have the bastard by the throat, if not for the scared little kitten currently holding on to his arm.
“I’m on vacation this week,” he told his brother, as easily as though he were speaking to Zach in an attempt to inspire his confidence. “So what do you say we lunch together and talk? Noon? Meet me at Marcel’s Bistro in the Western Plaza.” He needed answers, and more than that, he needed that bastard back where he belonged. Serving a life term.
The silence gave him hope, so he yanked out his business card, set it over the tome on the floor—Moby-Dick—and guided Megan out of there, calling behind his shoulder, “I’ll see you there.”
Ivan wouldn’t follow.
Not yet.
The bastard wanted something, and Cody was pretty sure that she was currently walking in his arms.
* * *
Megan turned out to be quite the stubborn little package.