Page 45 of Fatal Deception
Until she pressed her mouth to his. Sweetly and gently. Her hand coming up to trace his jaw, then raking through his hair. She was a descent into soft, honeyed perfection.
“Just so we’re clear,” she said against his mouth. “Thisisan invitation.”
“Good, because I’m taking it.” He rolled her under him, gratified when she made a little sigh of pleasure beneath him. When she met every kiss, every touch, every whisper with one of her own. And it released all that had tied so tight, because he’d wanted this for days now. Just this. Just her.
Sex had been a game since his divorce. Fun. Spontaneous. And very,verysuperficial. Something to do, something to prove to himself that even if he kind of sucked in the whole being-a-human department, he stillwasone.
There was nothing superficial about the way her skin felt, the way she moved under him, the way she kissed him. That was all a heavy, complicated braid of emotion, responsibility, want and something deeper than he had the words for.
It wasn’t just sex, certainly wasn’t a game. And he could try to convince himself of either of those things, but she already had too much weight in his heart for him to manage.
Being tangled up in her was a privilege and a hope. A tangled, changing dance. As pleasure throbbed, flowed and released in shuddering tandem that took both of them under in the early morning light.
He tucked her close and closed his eyes, and for a moment just breathed. There was so much to do, to handle. This was a distraction that wasn’t right when danger lurked.
But, damn, it felt right.
“I guess you’ve got chores you’re late for now,” he said when he trusted his voice not to sound heavy with all the emotions waging war inside of him.
She made a contented noise, low in her throat. “I might have finally found something worth being late to chores for.”
He should be distancing himself, but instead he pulled her in tighter, settled his face between her jaw and shoulder. Inhaled the faint, flowery scent of her skin that came from the soap she used in the shower last night, and it settled through him. Calm. Warm. Right. “I can make you even later.”
“No, you can’t and that’snota challenge.”
He made a considering sound, pressed his mouth to the underside of her jaw. She shoved at him, but with a laugh and with a lightness in her whole body he hadn’t seen this whole time.
It was a heady feeling to be the one that got to take some of the weight off Audra Young’s shoulders. Dangerously heady, and maybe he would have given himself a stern talking-to aboutthat, but he heard the chime of a doorbell ring through the house, and they both stilled.
“Expecting someone?” he asked casually, trying to remind himself that people who shot out windows and set fires didn’tring the bell, so he wouldn’t go tearing downstairs, gun in hand.
“No.” She hopped out of bed, and he got one tantalizing glimpse of everything before she tugged on a hideous, fluffy robe. “It’s probably Natalie.” She sighed, weight seeming to pile back on her shoulders. “She probably heard about the fire. I’ll be right back.”
“Audra, wait—”
But she was already out the door. He cursed under his breath as he got out of the bed. It probablywasNatalie, but she didn’t know that for sure, and with everything that was going on, she had to be more careful.
He couldn’t find his shirt, but he wasn’t about to let her go downstairs on her own, even if was just Natalie. Twenty-four seven meant twenty-four seven whether she liked it or not, and sex certainly didn’t change that. He pulled on his pants as he walked, then jogged down the stairs.
She had the door open, and he could hear her even though he couldn’t see who was on the other side yet.
“Oh. Hello. Are you looking for Copeland?”
“Yes.” Laurel’s voice. “And you. We’ve gotten a few small breaks in tracking the cremains. I was on my way out to Sunrise for a different case and thought I’d stop by and catch you two up.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, come on in.” Audra moved out of the way and Laurel stepped in. She glanced around the room in a quick, cop sweep. She spotted Copeland at the bottom of the stairs in nothing but his unbuttoned jeans. Her eyebrows immediately raised.
“I—I’ll make some coffee,” Audra offered, a little too brightly. “We’ll talk in the kitchen.” Her cheeks were bright red, but she moved with just the hint of a limp, toward the kitchen, in her bathrobe.
Laurel followed Audra, but her gaze stayed on Copeland. He couldn’t quite read it. Not contempt. Definitely not approval. Something more appraising.
“Nice tattoo,” Laurel said under her breath as she passed him.
Cursing, Copeland went upstairs to find his shirt.
Chapter Fourteen
Audra wasn’t sure how her life had spiraled so far out of control. Sleeping with Copeland was one thing. The kiss before the fire had sort of mademorefeel like an inevitability, and even now she couldn’t regret it.