Page 35 of Used

“What happened with the Murphys?”

His deep blue eyes gaze into the cup like it’s a Pensieve from Harry Potter, showing him long-ago memories. Then he glances over and his smile is back. “You made me a great breakfast. Thank you.” He licks a drop of syrup from his fingertip. “Tastes almost as good as you.” He leans over, cups the back of my head and kisses me, a slow kiss, his tongue caressing mine. A hand strokes my breast through the t-shirt, and the sudden reminder that I’m braless and very vulnerable to his touch hits me along with a riot of sensations that cascade down to my belly and between my legs.

After too long, I lean back, sipping in air, almost dizzy with lust. Opening my eyes doesn’t help, since he’s too beautiful for words. Looking away, I lick my lips. “I guess you should take me home.”

“Soon.” He stands and stretches. “Let’s take a shower.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

His gaze settles on my face as his thumb rubs my bottom lip and pushes into my mouth, stroking my tongue. Inexplicably it’s one of the most erotic things anyone’s ever done to me, other than all the other erotic things he’s done to me in past forty-eight hours. How am I going to get over him when we’ve shared things I couldn’t imagine doing with anyone else?

“Once more. Now.” His voice has a quality that’s dangerous and dirty at the same time.

He lets his thumb slip from between my lips, but he remains close and takes hold of my arm, guiding me toward the master bedroom. Partway there, someone knocks on the door. I’m both relieved and disappointed.

“Hmm.” Trick picks up a gun, then moves the furniture and opens the broken door.

Connor McCann stands in the doorway and nods a greeting. “Let’s talk.”

* * *

Trick

Leaving her in the apartment, C and I step onto the stairwell landing. There are no windows for someone to record audio off the vibrations. I check for anything that’s new and foreign. I turn on a cell phone jammer, and C and I stand together, looking down at the ground. It’s a stance we take when there are serious matters to discuss and we’re out in the open, but it’s become a habit now even at times when no one’s close enough to read our lips.

“Enzo and a carful of his guys were downstairs. ‘Vil and I convinced them to drive on.”

“He’s wasting his time. He can’t gun me down in the parking garage or on the street because the feds are staking me out right now and would see the whole thing.”

“The feds are hovering. You sure they’re watching you? Or might they be standing by?”

Frowning silently, I stop my gaze from going to my broken door.

“‘Vil can drop off the girl. You come to the compound. Stay a few days.”

“I’ll come soon.”

“Man, you know why Enzo was waiting downstairs. He’s looking for an opening when you’re alone. If you want a longer play date with the FBI informant, then bring her to the house.”

“Into C Crue Central? No way.”

“If you don’t trust her, what are you doing with her?”

“I’m settling up. And letting the FBI and Enzo Palermo steam over the idea that I’m fucking her while they grow hemorrhoids waiting for me to come down.”

“Trick, don’t play with her. Frosty good girls get their panties in a twist too easily. You make a wrong move with this girl, and she’ll burn you for it.”

“She can try.”

C spits out a curse. “Why her? You have been reckless about a lot of things before, but never with the women you play games with. You’re the one who insisted on vetting girls before crue hotel parties.”

“She had her chance to betray me. She didn’t.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

I cock my head, then nod. “I know she may be hanging on to milk more information from me. They could’ve treated her like a suspect and had her act like she’s through with them to get me to trust her. I realize that.”

“So again. Why her?”