Sophie debated it. A very short debate.
“You are so wrong about that,” she said.
She kissed him, and it wasn’t on his head. This one was on his mouth. And she led him straight to his bedroom.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A THREE-CONDOM NIGHT. Clay wasn’t sure the last time that had happened. Maybe his freshman year of college when he hadn’t been thirty-four and feeling sixty. His back hurt.
But the rest of him was humming like a finely tuned Harley.
Or maybe that was just his stomach growling.
He wasn’t sure if Sophie was feeling the same because she was facedown on his bed, sprawled out naked. And she’d stolen all the covers. In fact, he’d learned a couple of things about Sophie during the night. She’d definitely been in the mood for sex, was on the adventurous side, and she didn’t share bedding.
Clay supposed that was a small price to pay for three orgasms. A small price to pay considering he got to wake up to a very hot naked woman. A woman he should be avoiding.
But that was an argument he’d have with himself another day.
For now, he just enjoyed the view. That’s the reason he didn’t move or get up even though he was starving and in need of a caffeine fix. If he moved, this moment would be lost. And since he knew a lot about lost moments, he decided to savor this one. Like all moments though, it didn’t last.
Sophie opened one eye, peeked at him. And she smiled. It was easy not to notice the color of her eyes when he had that dazzling smile to greet him. A belly kiss, too. She made a sound of lazy pleasure, lifted her head and dropped a kiss on his stomach.
His lower stomach.
The woman certainly knew how to start the morning. Maybe he wouldn’t need that caffeine after all.
“Ever wonder why people started kissing?” she asked.
Never. And he wasn’t wondering it now. That was probably because her kiss went even lower, and to adjust her position, her bare breasts ended up against his outer thigh.
“I mean, think of it,” she continued. “Imagine the first time a woman walked up to a man and kissed him. It was probably in a cave. They were likely wearing animal skins. Maybe they were hot, sweaty. Horny.”
There was a lot of breath in her voice. Intentional, Clay was sure of it. Because it was hitting him against his dick, which was right there in front of her because she’d stolen those covers.
“Maybe it was the man who walked up to a woman and kissed her,” Clay suggested.
She shook her head, letting her hair brush over what was now a full-blown erection. She let her mouth brush over it, too. “No, a woman started it. A man would have just hoisted her against the cave wall and had sex with her.”
He made a sound of agreement and would have agreed to anything at the moment.
Sophie looked at him, met his gaze. “I’m not very good at this so bear with me.” And she took him into her mouth.
Fuck.
Clay nearly came off the bed. Hell, he nearly came because “not very good” was a big-assed lie. She was extremely good at this. In fact, street hookers could have taken lessons from her. He’d had blow jobs before but never like this. Sophie managed to use her breath, her hair, her breasts and some very clever flicks of her tongue. She tortured and teased him until Clay was certain he could take no more.
And then she stopped.
“Mila and I used to practice this on bananas,” she said her breath still bitch-slapping his dick.
Say what? Clay didn’t actually get out the words, but he sure hadn’t expected bananas or Mila to come up in conversation.
“We read it in a magazine and decided to try it,” she went on, taking a condom from the nightstand.
Clay could only watch as she opened it, holding the unrolled condom in her mouth, and she lowered it to his dick. All Clay could think was that she must have practiced it a lot because she nailed it. She got the condom on him and then outstretched her arms as if waiting for applause.
He intended to give her something all right, but it wasn’t applause.
Sophie laughed and scampered across the bed away from him. Even with a raging hard-on, Clay had no trouble catching her because she didn’t go far. Plus, she was tangled in those stolen covers. He got tangled in them, too, and ended up with his chest against her back.
He took her that way.
Sophie made another of those sounds of pleasure, adjusted herself until she was crouched on her knees, and she caught on to the headboard for support. Normally, Clay didn’t prefer this angle of sex since all the interesting parts of a woman were in the front, but he was so far gone that it would take some doing just to get her off before he brought this to a too-quick end.
While he pushed into her, he slid his hand to her lower belly, then between her legs to give her a little help. Apparently, he found the right spot because Sophie threw back her head, moaned, and he felt those slick, tight muscles squeeze him in the right spot, too.
Of course his right spot was a lot easier to find since it was his whole dick.
Even though it’d only been six hours or so since he’d last come, it felt as if he’d been starved for this. Starved for her. So, while he knew this would only add to the regrets that were piling up, Clay let Sophie and her muscles finish him off.
Sophie dropped back onto the bed, taking him with her, and she turned, coiling her body around so they were face-to-face. She kissed him.
“Want to know what else I practiced?” she asked.
Hell, no.
Well, not until he recovered.
“I’m thirty-four,” he reminded her. “You’ve got to give me at least two hours.” Or thirty minutes, he amended, when she climbed off the bed, and he got an unobstructed view of her naked body.
She laughed, kissed him again and reached for her clothes. “I practiced how to make an omelet,” she clarified. “But once you’ve recovered, I can try out a lap dance. I’ve always wanted to do one of those.”
With that dick-hardening offer still fresh from her mouth, Sophie took her clothes and headed in the direction of the guest room. Probably so she could freshen up and leave his own bathroom free for him to do the same. Without distractions. Because if they showered together, that would eat up the rest of the morning. Maybe literally. And while it was incredibly appealing, he really did need a couple of minutes.
Clay didn’t waste any time. Not because of the lap dance tease—maybe that did speed him up some—but he also knew he didn’t have much more time with Sophie. It was seven, and he’d have to be at work in the next hour or so.
He wondered if they could skip the omelet.
Clay showered, fast, and got dressed, but Sophie was even faster. She was already out of the guest bathroom and in the front part of the house when he came out. However, she wasn’t in the kitchen. She was at the front door. The opened front door.
And she wasn’t alone.
Brody was standing there.
Seeing him was the fastest way possible to put an end to Clay’s postsex buzz. He hurried to them, stepping in front of Sophie. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked Brody.
“Dropping this off,” Sophie said. That’s when Clay noticed that she was holding a cardboard box. It appeared to be filled with files.
And pink envelopes.
“It’s not what you think,” Brody jumped to say.
That didn’t stop Clay from debating if he should just punch Brody’s lights out. What the devil had he said to Sophie?
“I didn’t tell her anything,” Brody added as if reading Clay’s mind. “I just got here.”
“He’s right,” Sophie verified. “He knocked on the door, I answered it, and he handed me this just as you were coming out of your bedroom. We hadn’t even said good morning yet.”
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“And you won’t say it,” Clay snapped. “Because he’s not staying.”
“No, I’m not.” Brody tipped his head to the box. “That’s everything I have on Delaney’s death. And those pink envelopes are all empty. I’m here to say goodbye and to let you know that you’ll never have to see me again. I’m taking a private security job overseas, and I’m leaving the country today.”
That was a start, but it wasn’t nearly good enough. “You had no right to come here. You could have just mailed the box.”
Brody nodded. “I considered it, but I wanted you to see my face one last time. Not so I could apologize,” he quickly added. “I doubt I’ll ever be able to do that. But I wanted you to see that I was serious. I won’t be bothering you again. It’s time to let go of this, to let go of Delaney.” And he turned to leave.
“Why pink?” Sophie asked him, and that stopped Brody in his tracks.
He didn’t turn around. He kept his attention focused on the ground. “It was Delaney’s favorite color. Do yourself a favor and have Clay tell you what’s in those files. If you hope to have a future with him, you need to know.”
Clay stood there, watching Brody drive away. He certainly wasn’t in the mood for that lap dance. Not in the mood for much of anything except maybe punching a wall. If he thought it would help, that’s exactly what he would have done. But there was only one thing that would help right now.
The truth.
He took the box from Sophie, set it on the entry table and riffled through it until he found what he was looking for. The final reports of Delaney’s death. Clay took out the file and handed it to her.
Because Brody was right.
In a way.
If Sophie hoped to have a future with him, then yes, she did need to know. They couldn’t have this dark secret hanging between them. But it was a double-edged sword. Because if she learned the truth, then she would know one thing for certain.
That there would be no future with him.
“Take it home and read it,” Clay told her. He headed for the door and just kept on walking.
* * *
WELL, IT WASN’T in a pink envelope, but Sophie had no doubt the file contained things she didn’t want to know. She put it on her bed, unopened, and stared at it.
She’d have to open it, of course. When Mila arrived. Sophie would have to read what she didn’t want to know. Because Brody was right. She couldn’t have this dark secret festering between Clay and her. She only hoped that the cause of the festering was something that Clay could get past.
Something that she could get past, too.
“Sophie?” her mother called out from the other side of her bedroom door. A door that Sophie had locked. Good thing, too, because her mother tried to open it.
“I’m napping,” Sophie lied.
In hindsight, it wasn’t a good lie since it was eight in the morning. Her mother almost certainly knew that she hadn’t slept in her bed because she’d probably heard her come in just fifteen minutes earlier. And her mother had likely guessed that she’d been with Clay all night.
A wonderful, glorious night.
That had been shot to heck with Brody’s arrival.
“Mila’s here,” her mother told her.
That was the only thing her mom could have said to get Sophie moving. She hid the file under a pillow and threw open the door. Thankfully, Mila was standing in front of Belle, and Sophie latched on to her arm and pulled her into the room.
“Mila and I need some girl time alone,” Sophie explained to her mother. Definitely not a lie. Sophie wasn’t sure she could get through this without her best friend.
Her mother nodded, eyed them with suspicion. “Alice and I are heading to the grocery store. Do you need anything?” There were several unspoken questions mixed in there. Her mom wanted to talk about the possible pregnancy, about Clay. Maybe even about Christmas cookie recipes.
“No, I just need to talk to Mila,” Sophie answered. This lie would probably fuel her mother’s notion of the pregnancy, but it couldn’t be helped. Sophie needed to read the file. Then, she might need a good cry, and she didn’t want her mother around for that.
“Why don’t you pick up the stuff to make Grandma’s peanut butter brownies and her orange chocolate cookies?” Sophie added.
There were at least sixteen ingredients in each recipe and it might even involve a trip to a larger grocery store in San Antonio. That would ensure Sophie got the time she needed. And it wasn’t a total wild-goose chase since both would get eaten.
Probably by Sophie herself.
She really did need a less fattening way to manage her stress.
Her mother finally walked away, but Sophie waited several long moments to make sure she was truly gone. When she heard the car pull out of the garage, she drew in a deep breath and took out the folder.
“What is that?” Mila asked.
It was another level of hell, but Mila was obviously looking for something specific. “A police file. It’s the reason someone sent me the pink envelope with the photo and the word killer.”
Mila’s eyes widened, but Sophie watched as her friend reined in all her own shock and nerves. “Here, I’ll open it for you.”
“No, I can do it. I just wasn’t sure I could read it.”
Mila nodded and watched as Sophie took out the file’s contents. There were pictures, one of which she’d already seen of a woman lying dead. Delaney. The other shots were varying angles of the scene, including some close-up pictures of shell casings. There was also a photo of another body. A man this time, and like Delaney he appeared to be lying in a pool of his own blood.
“Do you know why the woman was killed?” Mila asked.
Sophie shook her head. “But she was someone very important to Clay. Her name was Delaney, and her brother is the one who sent me that pink envelope.” Heaven knew how many he’d sent to Clay.
She put the pictures aside, facedown, and went to the paperwork. The reports. There were several of them, including some from eyewitnesses. Since she didn’t want to have to read about what’d happened more than once, she thumbed through until she found the final report.
And there it was.
All typed out for her to see. She read through it, skimming over the lines as fast as she could, but her heart was beating so hard that she had to stop a moment. Had to level her breathing, too, because it was out of control.
Mila took it from her. “This might be best in condensed form.”
Yes, but condensed would also be watered down. “I want to know what happened. Everything that happened,” Sophie emphasized.
Mila made a yeah-sure sound and continued to read. Whatever was there had to be riveting because not once did Mila take her attention off the page. It felt as if a week or so had passed by the time she finished reading it.
“Holy shit,” Mila mumbled. “You want the good news or the bad news first?”
“Bad,” Sophie said without hesitation.
But Mila hesitated, and Sophie was about to remind her about the everything when she finally spoke. “Her name was Delaney Kincaid. Detective Delaney Kincaid,” she amended. “She was killed while on an undercover assignment with Houston PD. Clay was the team leader, and they’d gotten a tip on a drug deal. When Delaney, Clay and another officer, Brody Kincaid, arrived on the scene, they were ambushed.”
“A setup?”
“Yes. One of the men involved in the deal grabbed Delaney and tried to use her as a human shield.” She hesitated again. “Clay shot and killed her.”
Someone sucked all the air out of the room, and it was a good thing Sophie was sitting down or she would have fallen.
“Not on purpose, of course,” Mila went on. “Clay was shooting at another of the dealers, and the one holding Delaney pushed her out in
to the line of fire. She was killed instantly.”
All right. That helped a little with the breathing. It’d been an accident. But Sophie knew that Clay wouldn’t see it that way.
He’d blame himself.
“You said there was good news?” Sophie asked.
Mila nodded. “Clay was cleared of all charges, and the drug guys were captured.”
That was good. But again, Clay wouldn’t see things that way. Even if Houston PD felt he didn’t deserve punishment, Clay would still punish himself.
Mila slid her hand over Sophie’s. “Are you okay?”
“No.” There was no sense lying to Mila. She’d save her lies for her mother.
Sophie couldn’t just sit there so she got up. She also couldn’t go to Clay, not until she’d reined in her emotions and processed what she’d just learned. Besides, he probably had some reining in and processing to do, too.
“I’m going to take one of the horses out for a ride,” Sophie said. She kissed Mila on the cheek. “I’ll be okay. Go ahead to work or you’ll be late.”
“I can stay. I can go for a ride with you.”
Sophie shook her head and left, going out through the back of the house and straight to the stables. Thankfully, there were no hands around so she saddled Moonlight and rode out. She held back the first tear until she was certain no one would see it.
Especially Clay.
Not that he was anywhere around, but she wouldn’t want him to know this had shaken her to the core. If it was doing this to her, she couldn’t imagine what it had done to him. And Delaney wasn’t the only victim here. Clay and Brody were alive and breathing, but they’d been victims, too.
Moonlight whinnied and turned her head as if checking on Sophie. “I’m all right, girl,” she assured the mare.
And she would be. She just had to steady herself and then go to Clay and talk this out. But she couldn’t steady herself at home because there was no telling when Alice and her mom would return. They could spot tear-reddened eyes at fifty paces. So, Sophie kept riding, and she headed to Garrett’s favorite thinking place.
Those Texas Nights Page 21
