Strong, Sleek and Sinful

by Lorie O'Clare

  “I definitely have choices,” he whispered, his baritone sending chills over her flesh. “The obvious one was whether to walk away from you, or not. You’re here. That choice is made. Now to decide if you’re going to bring this guy down alone, or not.”

  “Wait one minute,” she hissed, pointing her finger at him.

  He grabbed her wrist, keeping her hand raised between them as his face came closer to hers. “Possibly one minute, but not much longer. You’re going to keep me advised on where you’re going.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  The passion, anger, whatever emotions made his eyes glow, seemed to disappear at once. He stared at her, his green eyes flat, closed off to her. Perry nodded once, releasing her wrist. “Okay then. I guess there’s nothing else to discuss.”

  There were things they needed to discuss. If she thought Perry would blow her cover, she was obligated to report in and let John know she’d been revealed as FBI. Policy was very clear on this matter. Kylie crossed her arms, studying the dull gaze Perry offered her and his stance, not confrontational but not intimidated, either. Not that she ever thought he would be by her.

  “I need to know what you’re going to do now that you know I’m FBI,” she said, her heart constricting as she fought to suppress all the feelings she had, pain over how he looked at her, frustration that he was acting like a big baby, and fear that he might do something to make her life hell.

  “What I’m going to do?” Perry raised one eyebrow while a muscle twitched over his jawbone. “What I’m going to do,” he repeated. Then turning from her, he walked across the room to a doorway shrouded in darkness. “I’m going to bed.”

  She stood there, confused and suddenly alone in the room. It was either turn around and leave, which was probably her smarter move, or follow him and demand that he talk to her.

  “Damn it,” she hissed, and stalked after him, fisting her hands at her sides. “You’re being a—”

  She stopped talking when, even in the incredibly dark room, she got an eyeful of incredibly hard-packed ass. Perry dropped his jeans to the floor and stepped out of them. His shirt came off next. Her mouth watered as her eyes adjusted quickly so as not to miss a moment of viewing roped muscle twitch across his back when he raised his arms, pulled his shirt off, and dropped it on top of his jeans. Then walking barefoot across his bedroom, he turned on the light in an adjoining bathroom and closed the door on her.

  Kylie listened when water started running but then looked at his bedroom. Spotting a lamp next to his bed, she turned it on, then sat on the oversized bed. Everything in his house seemed so masculine and large. Just like Perry. His bed was firm and high off the floor. She couldn’t sit on it and put her feet flat on the floor, so she pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged, taking in the contents of his room, and waited.

  Perry’s bed frame was the same dark varnished wood as his dresser. There were a handful of snapshots arranged in frames on the dresser, and after a minute of sitting there, wondering why she waited for him, Kylie got up and flipped the switch on the wall by the door, flooding the room with light, and leaned in to see the snapshots better.

  Perry’s nieces, at different ages, were posed in each shot. There were a good ten pictures framed and placed on the dresser. She arranged them with her eyes in chronological order, not touching any of them, and noted that Dani didn’t wear the amount of makeup she did today in the recent past. Kylie focused in on a picture of the girls, all close to the age they were now, maybe a year or two younger, surrounding a very pretty woman. Her hair was brown, like the girls’, and her oval face gave her an air of regality. But it was her eyes, slightly large for her face, that reflected the strong family trait. Kylie knew without a doubt she was looking at Perry’s sister. They had the exact same dark, all-knowing eyes. The woman sat with her girls around her, but by the length of her slender arms and her long neck Kylie guessed she was a tall lady. Height must also be a family trait.

  Kylie glanced at the papers thumbtacked to the wall. School papers and artwork. One might think these were Perry’s daughters instead of his sisters. Kylie wondered why he had never married and started a family of his own; obviously fatherhood appealed to him.

  No. It wasn’t fatherhood. Kylie knew better. Like her, she guessed, Perry was married to his job. His sister’s daughters were safe because he wasn’t obligated to show up at the house at a decent hour or risk being called a bad dad. Control appealed to him, manipulating and running other people’s lives.

  Kylie turned and looked at the closed bathroom door when the shower started. She really should leave. He wasn’t the man for her. There wasn’t a man for her. Like Perry, her work was her life. Although unlike Perry, she didn’t have a ready-made family that she could step into when she needed the fix.

  Usually being alone didn’t bother her. When she was assigned a case, she submerged herself completely and didn’t give anything else any thought. It kept the loneliness away. In fact, Kylie wasn’t sure she’d ever felt lonely. She’d felt alone, but there was a difference. Ever since her perfect older sister was ripped out of her life, Kylie had walked through life alone. And being alone kept her strong, kept her moving from one case to another and nailing bad guys. With every arrest, she assured herself that she had saved one more person from the pain she’d endured at too young an age.

  Her eyes suddenly burned and she realized she stared at the bathroom door without blinking. And she hadn’t left yet. He’d be out of the shower soon, and it would be too late.

  Kylie dragged her fingers through her hair, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit her when she tried to get her brain to decide whether her smarter move was leaving or staying and demanding that Perry promise not to reveal who she was.

  “He’s not going to promise you shit,” she mumbled, dropping her chin to her collarbone and feeling the stretch in the back of her neck. All of this would be a hell of a lot easier to figure out with at least a few hours of sleep. If she held out much longer she would lose the entire night, and sleeping tomorrow away—or was it today?—wasn’t an option.

  There were large wooden blinds closed over two windows in his room. Her eyes still burned as she stared at the one next to his bed. She swore lights beamed against the pane outside. Frowning, she turned and reached for the bedroom light, switching it off.

  “Interesting,” she whispered, walking to the bed and flipping off the lamp.

  When she did, the light shining through the blinds grew quite obvious. Her heart started pounding when she climbed on the bed and crawled across it on all fours, instead of taking time to walk around. Then barely lifting one blind, she squinted outside at what appeared to be headlights, glaring straight at the side of the house.

  “What the fuck?” she hissed, sliding off the bed and hurrying out of the room. All other lights were off in the house and she found the closest window in the next room where Perry’s computer was.

  The headlights weren’t shining directly on this window, making it easier to peek outside. She spotted the dark vehicle parked across the intersection facing Perry’s house. Why would someone sit there with their car running and headlights glaring at someone’s house at this hour of night? Or very early morning, as the case might be.

  Her heart thudded in her chest as she patted her gun in her thigh holster. The only way to find out whether someone was up to no good or not was to do a little investigating. She turned toward the living room and stopped in her tracks at the sight of Perry.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, standing there with a towel wrapped around his still-damp body and not wearing anything else.

  She pointed toward the window, dumbfounded briefly at the incredible view he offered. If whoever was out there was up to no good, Kylie needed to get out there quickly. That thought helped clear her head and gave her the strength to stare at Perry even though he was damn near naked, still slightly damp from his shower, and looking sexier than he did when he was outraged and all pumped up on adrenali
ne prior to going into the bathroom.

  “Someone outside has their headlights pointed on your house,” she said, and moved her hand when he lowered his gaze and noticed she was holding her gun through her dress.

  “Hold on,” he said, disappearing into his bedroom.

  Kylie headed into the living room, checking the next window. The window behind his couch offered the best view. The vehicle was still out there, and as she watched, their headlights turned off. But then it started moving, coming down the road without lights until it slowed and idled in front of Perry’s house.

  “A black Suburban,” she whispered, backing up from where she looked out of the corner of the blind without moving it.

  She jumped when Perry’s hand squeezed her shoulder. “Friend of yours?” There was a dangerous edge in his tone that crept over her flesh, giving her a chill.

  “Nope.” Kylie turned around, edging around the now-dressed Perry. “Who do you know who drives a black Suburban?” she asked, having to tilt her head to look into his brooding expression when he didn’t back up so she could get around him.

  “No one.” He wore jeans and a blue T-shirt that smelled of fabric softener.

  When he turned toward his kitchen she watched him lift a black belt that he’d held in his hand and begin sliding it through the belt loops on his jeans. Kylie hurried after him; damn if she was standing in here when she’d planned on going outside to investigate before he even appeared from the shower. At the door he turned around, and she was ready for his macho crap to start flying. When he looked away from her after only a moment to focus on working the belt through the side loop, she hurried around him.

  “Let me do it,” she said, not wanting to lose this guy if he was who she thought he might be.

  And if he was, then why was Peter following her?

  A strange sensation washed over her when she helped slide Perry’s belt through the loops while he lifted his arms and allowed her to finish dressing him. His gun was already in the holster, and after she finished, Perry slid his belt through his belt buckle while she made sure the snaps were secure on his holster. It was a simple step, one she had done a million times, but helping Perry, knowing in the next moment they were headed outside for some very simple investigation, created a pressure inside her that swelled throughout her in record time.

  This wasn’t the time, or place, to get all hot and bothered about doing detective work by his side. Not to mention, there wasn’t a time, or place, to get turned on by this. They weren’t partners and never would be, professionally or personally. Kylie let go of his gun and walked around him toward the door.

  “Are we assuming this is the same Suburban that drove toward you in the bowling alley a few days ago?” he asked from behind her.

  “That’s my guess.” Kylie reached for the door handle, but Perry put his hand on her shoulder.

  He ran it down her back and then cupped her ass. Pulling her to him, he held her while opening the door. Perry guided her outside, keeping her close, and then let go to close the door.

  “He’s taking off,” Kylie whispered, feeling drizzles dampen her cheeks and hair. She swore they sizzled against her already-overheated flesh. Perry kept her close, which didn’t help her resolve to not get involved. “We’re following him.”

  “Who is he?” Again Perry took her arm and turned her away from the street. Instead of walking toward either of their parked cars, he led her to his garage. “I’m driving.”

  “What are you driving?” She glanced toward the street where the Suburban had idled. It was gone now. “You’d better hurry.”

  “Get in,” Perry said once he’d opened the garage door and disappeared inside. “And who is he?”

  Kylie walked alongside a sports car. She ran her hand over the cool metal until she reached the passenger door. The interior light turned on when Perry slid behind the wheel and reached to open her door. Kylie slipped into a reclining bucket seat and stared at the black dash with individual round, clear plastic–covered gauges and then down at the gearshift between them. Perry grabbed the ball with his large hands, cupping it and shifting as he started the car. It purred to life with energy and power suitable only for Perry.

  She studied his profile when he looked over his shoulder and backed out of his garage. “If my hunch is right, he’s Peter.”

  Perry took off quickly, reminding her to search for her seat belt.

  The smile he gave her when he glanced her way was cruel and determined. “He won’t get away from us.”

  “What is this?” she asked, pulling the belt around her and finding the clasp to secure it.

  “Nineteen sixty-nine SS Camaro, Z twenty-eight, five-speed,” he said, shifting the car into second but keeping over a block’s distance from the taillights in front of them. “It belonged to my brother-in-law.”

  “Your sister’s husband?” Kylie again took in Perry’s strong profile, then glanced lower as his arm muscles stretched against his T-shirt sleeve as he gripped the stick shift.

  “Yup.”

  She wouldn’t ask him to elaborate. It was personal information, and discussing anything too close to their hearts would create more friction between them. She forced her attention to the road but knew he looked at her as she stared straight ahead.

  “He died in the line of duty. Megan gave it to me. She doesn’t know how to drive a stick, and I helped David build it,” Perry offered.

  “He’s turning.” Kylie pointed ahead of her. “Don’t lose him.”

  “I won’t.”

  She didn’t ask any more about the car or Perry’s family. Forcing herself to focus on the taillights ahead of her, Kylie knew protocol insisted she call in and let Paul, or whoever answered, know she was in pursuit of a car whose driver might be her perp. But that would mean informing them she was with a local police officer. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone Perry knew who she was yet. Not until she knew beyond any doubt that Perry wouldn’t betray her.

  Something deep inside told her there wasn’t any way Perry would rat her out. That wasn’t his style. But he had ultimatums. And until they came to terms she could live with, she wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about this.

  They rode in silence for a few minutes, the rumble of the engine vibrating the seat under Kylie and making it harder to keep her desire for Perry at bay. He turned again, and she watched roped muscle flex in his forearm and hand when he shifted and his grip on the ball at the end of the stick relax.

  “We might have a false alarm,” he announced when he came to a stop before turning onto the quiet side street. The Suburban had turned less than a minute before, but Perry didn’t follow. “We’ll give the Suburban a minute to pull into whatever drive it’s heading for,” he added, edging toward the corner and cutting his headlights until they could lean forward and see brake lights come on. The black SUV slowed and turned as a garage door opened on a house midway down the block. “Crap. What I was afraid of.”

  “What?” She looked from the Suburban to Perry. “What were you afraid of?”

  “Franco.”

  “Franco?”

  “One of the cops on the force.” Perry turned the corner, driving with his lights off and crawling down the street. By the time they reached the house where the Suburban parked, the garage door was closed. “I didn’t know he drove a black Suburban. I wonder why he came by. Looks as if we just went on a wild-goose chase.”

  Kylie wasn’t so sure. She nodded once, though, unwilling to share her thoughts with Perry. She didn’t know what he knew, but she suspected a cop on the force could be Peter and now she had a cop who drove a black Suburban.

  “Too bad we didn’t get tag numbers,” she said instead of voicing her thoughts.

  Chapter 18

  Perry turned his lights on and shifted into second after taking the corner. He needed sleep, but the thought of taking his baby out on the interstate, cutting loose for a few, and feeling the power of his Z underneath him sounded really good. Something about Kylie
sitting next to him just added to his craving to drive for a while instead of returning home. It would be light soon, though, and there was a lot of work to do, work that would be done a lot better with at least a few hours of sleep.

  Kylie fought to hide a yawn from him, and he suppressed the urge to reach out and stroke her hair from her face. He wasn’t sure what pissed him off more, her cold reaction to him when he told her he knew she was FBI or that he hadn’t figured it out on his own sooner. Proof right there that being around her was fogging his thoughts.

  Perry stopped at the stop sign, glanced both ways, and shifted into first as he pulled onto the deserted street. A delivery truck idled in a parking lot as they drove by; otherwise the world was asleep. Perry wondered if he’d be able to crash at all tonight.

  “You going to be able to drive home?” He glanced at Kylie when she yawned again, this time not hiding the fact that she did.

  “I’ve driven on less sleep than I’m working on now, Officer,” she said, and gave him a smirk.

  God, she was cute as fucking hell. “You can stay at my house,” he offered, shifting again and making the light as he headed back to his neighborhood. “I’ll even take the couch.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Think I wouldn’t?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not staying the night at your house, Perry. You know as well as I do that I can’t do that. For whatever reason, someone checked your house out tonight and my car was in your driveway.”

  He looked at her. Kylie relaxed in her bucket seat, her seat belt secure and pressing between her breasts, making them look even perkier. Her bare knees were pressed together and she gripped them with her hands, her pink-painted fingernails adding to her youthful appearance. It hit him at that moment that he probably didn’t even know the real Kylie Donovan. She was working undercover, playing a part, a part that demanded she appear young, carefree, and a bit on the easy side. He cringed at the blunt reality that easy and available was the way teenage girls looked. On the prowl, in heat—how did Kylie usually dress?