Vixen Healed (Vintage Vixen 2)

“Shit.”

Kelly’s voice was rough and full of the ire she too felt. He pushed off her. “I gotta get that.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Her eyes ate up the view of his tan skin, firm ass, and muscular back as he moved from the bed and headed into the bathroom. A few moments later a flush of the toilet sounded, followed by running water. The faucet cut off, and he jogged out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and out into the hall. She shook her head. Only Kelly Quinn could make that move look sexy. Early forties never looked so good. She slipped out of the bed, stiff, sore, yet better. The moment that passed between them was more than a release of sexual tension. It was a bloodletting of emotion and parts of the past she hadn’t known she still clung to.

She padded over the floor into the bathroom and turned on the shower before she twisted her hair up into a makeshift bun. When steam began to form, she opened the curtain and stepped inside. Hot water beaded down on her skin, easing a sigh from between her lips. It was heaven on her achy bits. She felt like she’d run a marathon—below the belt. Kelly was beautiful, thick, about ten inches, and curved just-so to the right. She giggled. I can’t believe we just did that. It felt good to find joy in such a dark place. She grabbed her pink bath sponge, added honey and cream body wash, and built a healthy lather over her skin. The feeling of being watched made her turn around. Kelly’s outline was visible through the shower curtain.

She poked her head around the side, and then her happiness shriveled and died. His face was stern, his lips were set in a pencil thin line, and his eyes had darkened to a dark gray.

“You should get dressed as soon as possible. We need to go in to the station.”

“What happened?”

“Craig Johnson has been arrested … he was caught breaking into your house.” Anger swirled hot in her belly. Would no part of my life be left untouched? He’s violated me in every way he could think of: my past, my job, and now my home. Her body shook. She balled her hands into fists.

“C?”

“If I had been at home…” She shook her head as the list of things he could have done to her played on a loop in her mind.

“I know. But you weren’t, and that’s what you have to focus on.” He grabbed a towel from the rack behind him and held it up. “Come on, let’s get dressed, head downtown, and nail this bastard to the wall. There’ll be no getting off the hook or escaping this time.” She stepped into his arms, allowed herself to soak up his strength and find comfort in his crisp, clean smell, as he wrapped the soft material around her. His skin was warm and damp.

“I took a quick shower in my room. If I’d joined you we wouldn’t see the station for a long time.”

She peered up at him from beneath her lashes. He was sinfully good looking in a pair of black dress pants and nothing else.

“Don’t look at me like that, C.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re starving and I’m a steak.”

“Kind of how I feel, Detective.” She held the towel to her chest and moved into the other room. His footfalls assured her he followed. “How will this affect the trial?”

“Sway it in our favor more. Maybe move it up. The Chief’s been pushing for that since we had to hide you.”

“Thank God you did.” She moved over to the dresser that had become hers, pulled out a lacy, black set of undergarments, and walked to the closet where she hung her clothes. What did one wear to a reckoning? This man had terrified her for far too long. Today she took that power away from him and came one step closer to sending him to a jail to rot. She decided on a pair of dark denim skinny jeans, a white camisole, and a suit jacket that cinched in at the waist with a belt and ended in a ruffled hemline.

Kelly placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

His brow furrowed.

“Okay, not fine, but managing.”

“All right, I’m going to finish getting dressed, and I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Okay.” Left alone with her thoughts she wondered what would happen when this was all done. Was this a mere distraction for him? She believed there’d been a genuine connection and honest exchange of … something more this morning. But she was rusty, and out of practice. Guilt hit her as she dressed. She was distracted. Was this how she honored Campbell’s memory? She took a deep breath and recalled her numerous conversations with her therapists and her friend. I have a life to live here. I start thinking about what ifs and I’ll be headed down a slippery road that never leads me anywhere good. It was time I took that final step and became intimate with someone, and Kelly was the right person. She turned to face the mirror over the dresser and opened her zebra print makeup bag. She was conflicted, but she’d be damned if she let it show.

As she stepped out into the living room her stomach did a flip. Quinn had finished his outfit off with a gray button up shirt, a nice pair of black leather shoes, and a black sports coat to conceal his weapons. If he looks this good now he’d be devastating in a suit. She let out a low whistle.

“You clean up well. I can’t decide if I like you better clean cut or scruffy.”

“Shit, as long as you like me both ways we’re good.”

They laughed. The tension that had filled the space lightened.

“You ready?” He lifted an eyebrow as he peered at her with kind eyes.