Page 82 of Missing Justice
Once inside she headed for the elevator and punched the button. The elevator doors whooshed open and he set his hand on her lower back, guiding her in front of him. “You’re funny, Tay.”
“I am funny. Sometimes I don’t appreciate that about myself. I’m too serious. You’ve helped me lighten up though. So, thank you.”
Wow. Now there was a compliment of all compliments and it left him…stunned. Not stunned enough, however, to ignore an opportunity. A grand one. He waited for the doors to close, then hooked his hand around her neck and hit her with a kiss that had him contemplating the benefits of the emergency stop button. As usual, she responded, arching into him and playing hide-and-seek with her tongue.
Thoughts of pressing her against the elevator wall and sliding into her raced through his mind. Damn, he was crazy about her. She upped the ante on the kiss and slid her leg up his calf.
God, this woman was exceptional. Wicked, wicked woman.
Ding.The elevator cruised to a halt and Taylor angled back, pressing her hands against his cheeks. “Oh, my,” she said. “I think we’ll have to finish this later.”
They sure would. “You can count on that.”
He and Taylor had been competitors for months. That sense of competition had driven his lust for her to another level. From the second he’d seen her, he wanted her. Then when she opened her mouth he wanted to shut her up. By kissing her. Kissing that mouth.
Kissing everything. Taylor, pain in the ass that she was, did it for him. Intellectually, physically, emotionally, all of it. The highest of the highs.
But with the highs there had to be lows. That was life and sometimes it sucked. In fact, life sucked a lot. He’d learned that when his baby sister had been murdered and his mother became a drunk. The trick was making the most of the times that didn’t suck.
He and Taylor? They’d yet to experience the lows with each other. Sure, she’d curtailed the drinking, but maintaining that sobriety was a different animal. Could she do it long-term and maybe give them a shot at an actual relationship? At commitment, dinners, and the mundane trappings that came with being a couple?
He hoped so.
The elevator doors slid open and straight ahead, against a stark white wall, an ornate brass sign indicated units 2A and 2B to the left.
Taylor, having perfect vision, hooked a left. “Look around,” she whispered. “Check for security cameras.”
“On it.”
He did a visual sweep of the corridor, his eyes darting up and down, checking the corners and ceiling for any overhead cameras. “You see anything?”
“Nope.”
“Me neither. I think we’re good.”
“Really, the security is extremely lax in this building.”
“Good for us.”
He stopped at unit 2B tucked in the corner. Another lucky break given that he only had to worry about nosey neighbors from one side. He knocked on the glossy red door and waited. Nothing.
“Try again,” Taylor suggested. “Just to be sure.”
Matt rapped on the door again, harder this time, but not banging. No sense alerting the neighbors to the B&E about to happen.
He leaned closer to the door, his ear almost pressed against it. No sound came from inside.
Satisfied no one was home, he nodded. “Huddle up here. Block the view in case someone comes into the hallway.”
Taylor did as he asked and the scent of her perfume, something soft—jasmine?—distracted him for a few seconds.Focus here, dumbass.
Sliding the tension wrench into the lock, he turned until the inner cylinder moved then inserted the pick, finagling it until he’d moved each pin, one by one and…done. Lock popped.
Working quickly, he pushed open the door, heard a chime and halted. Door chime.Security system.But the chime went silent so Matt slipped inside with Taylor behind him. The keypad on the wall told him the alarm was inactive.
The fading aroma of fresh baked cookies tickled his senses. He locked the door behind them, then held his hand out, blocking Taylor from moving as he listened. Just in case someone was home, maybe in the shower, about to walk out andhello, strangers.
“I don’t hear anything,” she said.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82 (reading here)
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117