Becoming Rain (Burying Water 2)

Basically, all the versions of Luke that aren’t within my case files.

The human side of him, which always gets lost in the ugly.

A small lump forms in my throat as I step away from the pictures and shift toward the windows in Luke’s cozy, dimly lit living room.

I’d hate to see what prison does to him.

The call doesn’t last much longer, though, and I’ve gotten nothing out of it, other than that someone’s trying to get Luke to go somewhere or do something, and he’s refusing. I assume, to be with me. I wonder who the someone is.

That small voice in the back of my mind whispers female names. I shush them away, because there’s no room for jealousy here. “So that’s what my condo looks like from your angle,” I call out over my shoulder.

Dishes clatter into the sink. “Shielded and uninviting? Yeah.”

“Some of us aren’t exhibitionists . . .”

A pause. “Are you admitting to watching me?”

“No.”

The floor creaks with his approach but I don’t turn around. “So what have you seen?” There’s no suspicion in his voice. Only playfulness.

I relax. “Besides a certain black-haired friend?”

He groans. “I knew that’d come up again. Yeah. Besides that?”

I hesitate, but then can’t help myself. I’ve never been shy. I can’t be in my job. “You should probably not shower after dark.” Flashes of the night I caught him bare-assed and heading into his shower hit me, and my cheeks flush. While I’ll admit that I’ve seen that, there’s no way I’ll admit to camping out every night since, hoping to catch another glimpse.

“Why? I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Yeah, clearly.” But don’t you, Luke?

Heat from his chest radiates off of him, warming my back as he leans in, his breath rolling over my ear. “I don’t think you minded.”

My entire face burns up, not because we’re talking about it, not because he’s right, but because Franky and Bill are listening to this. I’ve had wires on me while I’ve flirted before. Heck, I had a case only eight months ago where I had to entice this sixty-year-old guy in the lobby lounge of the D.C. Ritz into selling me some cocaine. He was obese, sweating profusely, and reeked of cigars and beer, and for two hours my cover team listened to him tell me all the dirty things he wanted to do to my body up in his hotel room. I had to play along, encouraging it, getting him so worked up in his seat that he willingly pulled his stash out of his pocket and said all the magical words I needed to hear to nail him with a Class A felony. He was looking at twenty years in jail and at his age, that’s a death sentence. It took all of twenty minutes to get him to plea bargain with the name of his supplier.

The guys teased me about some of the dirty shit I said for months after, taping newspaper clippings of sex phone operator jobs that I’d be great at to my Jeep’s windshield. I never cared because I didn’t mean a word of it.

But now with Luke pressing against me, I’d do anything not to have a wire on.

Luke settles his hands onto my shoulders, and his fingertips begin tracing the outline of my collarbone in a slow, seductive rhythm. “I remember this one night when your bedroom blinds were open . . .”

Shit. Of course he’s going to bring that up. “That must have been another condo.”

His chuckle tickles my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “No, it was definitely yours. I remem—”

Deny! Deny! Deny! I spin around. My one hand covertly smothers my pendant, my other flies up to cover his mouth, stifling his words and the proof of what I had to do to capture my target’s attention.

Even in the darkness, his eyes glisten with a mischievous glint, his breathing coming in quick, heavy pulls. Because he knows that I’m well aware of what he’s referring to.

And, by the recognition flashing across his face, he’s figured out that that was no accident.

Roping strong arms around my body until I can feel every contour, every ridge, every hard part of him, he leans down and settles his mouth on mine, my fingers the only thing separating our lips.

If I could think straight, I’d come up with an excuse to stop this. My thumb wouldn’t be hovering over the tiny switch on the backside of my pendant.

But all I’m thinking about is how good Luke feels, and how much I’m starting to like him. And how much I want this to happen.

I switch the wire off and slip my fingers free.

Luke’s large frame swallows me up as soft, full lips land on mine, with an odd mix of tenderness and need that wasn’t there the first two times he kissed me now radiating off him. It’s intoxicating enough to dissolve the last of my focus, as I let myself be consumed by all of him. Until I’m no longer a cop and Luke isn’t who he is. I’m just a twenty-six-year-old girl with feelings and needs who’s attracted to this beautiful man.

For the first time, I let my hands wander shamelessly over his body—over cut arms, and a solid chest, and strong shoulders. My fingers coil through the curls at the nape of his neck; his hair is even softer than I imagined, and I’ve imagined it a lot.

His arms tighten, pulling me in even closer against him, until his groin is digging into me. I can feel how much he wants me, and it only turns me on more. A smooth hand slips under the back of my shirt, grazing the small of my back, just the slight touch of his fingertips on my bare skin sending shivers through every sensitive spot on my body.