Dirty Deeds

by AJ Nuest

  Shit, what was he thinking? Of course, she was.

  Underneath that layer of fluffy white terry cloth, she wore not only his thin undershirt, but the blue boxers he’d loaned her at his house.

  To be near him. To remember their time together while they’d been apart.

  “Fuck, that’s sexy.” He leaned in and sucked one of those tempting points through the cotton. She gasped as he prodded her with his tongue and then grazed the tip with his teeth.

  His balls grew heavy. A thick pulsing tightened his cock. He pulled her deep into his mouth and Eden shuddered underneath him as a roaring pressure built in his ears. “Damn, you feel good.”

  Her thighs squeezed his waist. She bucked and whimpered as he switched to the other breast and dragged the calloused ends of his fingers across her stomach. Pursing his lips, he blew a long, hot breath over the damp patch pasted to her nipple, then chuckled as she tossed her head back with a moan.

  Four days jonesing for her and he was already geared up to fire on all cylinders. Good news was, from the way she writhed against him, so was she.

  Palming her lower back, he eased her down to the counter. He needed better access. To have her splayed in front of him so he could make sure she got exactly what she craved.

  She braced her arms behind her. The robe slipped off her shoulders and pooled around her wrists. He yanked her forward by the knees and she arched her spine as he licked a path up her neck to the edge of her chin.

  Christ, she tasted like Heaven. A cherry bomb exploding in his mouth.

  Curling his fingers around the elastic waistband, he straightened and, in one quick motion, tore his baggy boxers off her legs.

  Aw, fuck. The underwear slipped from his hand, his plans forgotten. That lacy white triangle hiding her sex, those two skinny straps arching high over her hips. Dammit, seeing her in that scrap she passed off as underwear pumped every blood vessel in his body straight into his cock.

  One of Eden’s eyebrows rose, her calves dangling over the edge of the counter and feet swinging. She lifted her foot and prodded his stomach with her toe. “Like what you see, Detective?”

  He licked his dry lips. “Hell, yeah.”

  She was teasing him, all right. Torturing him with this sexy, laid-back act. His dick throbbed. The base of his spine tingled. And she was succeeding, the sneaky shit.

  Well, two could play that game. He slid his palms up her thighs, tucked his thumbs under those thin strings and yanked.

  Eden’s breath caught. She squirmed and the narrow strip between her legs darkened, stretched and wet. “Maybe we should head to the bedroom. Or are you planning to show off more of your expertise in the kitchen?”

  “Depends.” He flexed his fingers along either side of her ribcage, shifted the tension in his thumbs so her thong slipped back and forth over her clit. “You have many men in this highbrow joint before?”

  She moaned, rolling her hips in time with the motion. His cock jerked. Sweat beaded down his back. A shudder dislodged her shoulders, and she panted, wriggling faster. “No. God, Kelly, you’re the only one.”

  Damn, she was close. A few flicks of his tongue, a little pressure from his thumb and she’d be there. But he was a greedy asshole, wanting to be buried inside her. To get lost in that dizzying buzz as she convulsed and came around him. “Then I say we christen every flat surface in the place. Starting now.”

  He pulled back and, in a few half-assed, clumsy moves, stripped out of his clothes, jump-stepping to shuck his jeans and shorts and toeing off his high-tops.

  Her breathy laugh drifted over him as his hard-on danced in the air, the end bouncing around like one of those stupid, bobble-headed dogs. Not that he cared. Hell, she was the one who’d made him this way.

  He hoisted her off the counter and she laughed again as he tossed her over his shoulder. A glance left then right, and he stepped for the table but, before his heel left the floor, she stretched one arm toward her robe and wiggled her fingers. “Wait, wait.”

  Rolling his eyes, he leaned sideways, closing the distance so she could snag the sleeve and drag the damn thing with them.

  The terry cloth skimmed his back and ass as he strode toward the table. Eden pointed to a chair and he kicked it out from under the table, then turned and waited as she draped her robe across the seat.

  The backs of her thighs slipped past his inner arm, her sweet ass then the small of her back as he lowered them into the chair. She knelt in front of him, straddling his thighs, and his beard rasped her skin as he dragged his cheeks back and forth over her breasts.

  The tension in her thighs gave, and he braced her in his arms. Her cool palms framed his face as she urged his head back, dotting kisses over his eyelids, his cheeks and lips. Their bodies met and she sank so slowly, the slick pressure nearly popped every tendon in his neck.

  Love? He rocked into her and she stiffened. An internal flutter milked his cock, and he hissed.

  Regular folks could use that anemic word as much as they wanted. That shit was a cheap knock-off in comparison to this.

  Chapter 21

  “Here. Close your eyes and try this.”

  Eden did as Kelly asked and leaned over the kitchen island, her mouth open and waiting. The tines of the fork slid past her lips and a fluffy layer of buttery-sweet warmth coated her tongue.

  “Mmm…” She chewed and then groaned as a tart blueberry burst over her taste buds, cutting through the thick maple syrup to add the perfect bite of heaven to Kelly’s pancakes.

  Holy Betty Crocker in a pair of distressed black jeans. “God, that’s fantastic.” She swept a sticky spot from the corner of her mouth and then sucked the syrup off her fingertip. “Since when did a box of pancake mix and some frozen blueberries equal carnal bliss?”

  Kelly’s eyebrow twitched, and he lowered his chin, a wicked twinkle in his gaze. “Put your finger in your mouth again, and I may just have to toss you back over my shoulder.”

  A thrill vaulted several back-flips through her stomach, and Eden breezed a giddy laugh. Okay, wait. Seriously? She blinked. For crying out loud, the man had turned her into some Beibermaniac version of a gushing, weak-kneed fangirl.

  Bent at the waist, Kelly rested his weight on one elbow, his bicep a pumped mound of masculine goodness and his naked torso disappearing past the edge of the counter. He swayed his hips and Eden sat up higher on the stool to catch the lip-smacking flex of the tattoos scrawled along his thick obliques.

  Yep. Fangirl about covered it. Even after watching him prowl around her apartment all night wearing nothing but a smile, she still had trouble believing he wasn’t some fantastic mirage she’d cooked up in her head.

  “It’s weird because the steaks last night also seemed better than usual.” He narrowed his eyes, wagging the fork over the plate he’d centered between them and stacked with enough steaming pancakes to feed the top five floors of her building. “I think you broke my taster.”

  “What?” She laughed again, crossing her arms beside her half-empty coffee mug, inching closer so she could breathe in the heady blend of his sleep-sated skin and sandalwood shampoo. “Granted, I can do lots of things, but I think you might be overestimating my skills.”

  Then again, her appetite had been off too. No matter what she ordered, eating anything the past four days had been like trying to choke down wet sand.

  “Hmmm…” He tapped the fork tines against his full bottom lip and her focus fell to the dark strip of hair below his talented mouth. His scruff was thicker this morning than last night. More defined. Completely edible. “I can think of a few things you haven’t done yet.”

  Her thighs involuntarily clenched, and she squirmed, re-crossing her legs. God knew, whatever parts of him she’d missed hadn’t been for lack of trying. “Yeah, well, give a girl some credit. There are only so many hours in one night.” And they’d used a good portion of them to make up for the ones they’d missed.

  Exactly as Kel
ly had suggested, they’d tested the durability of pretty much every flat—and some not so flat—surface in her condo. The couch, a living room chair, her bed, the counter in her private bathroom, the rug in front of the fireplace, one or two walls…

  God, if her cleaning service employed the use of a UV light she was screwed.

  “I gotta agree with you there. One night was definitely not enough.” He cut the fork into the stack of pancakes and speared a double-layered wedge.

  Da-a-ang. Eden swallowed hard, following his motions as he eased the sticky morsel into his mouth. Good God, he’d turned her into a sex addict. They’d barely left her bed an hour ago and she was already revved up to hop back in…because he was eating. Sheesh.

  At least she’d slept, though not very much. And yet, the few hours she’d gotten with Kelly had been so deep and relaxed, the fatigue she’d been fighting the past week had disappeared. For the first time since she’d left the precinct, it hadn’t hurt just to get out of bed.

  In fact, her body nearly seemed weightless. Like once she hopped off the stool, she’d better play it safe and double-check her feet had landed on solid ground.

  “Any ideas what we should do about tonight?” He pushed up from the counter and lifted his coffee, and her attention dropped to the eight pack rippling down his ribcage as he brought the mug to his lips. He’d left the top two buttons of his fly undone. The tease. And from the way his loose waistband grazed that delicious dense vee bunching down his hips, apparently the use of underwear had become redundant.

  She locked her gaze with his, partially hidden by the bed-headed chaos of his hair. She’d tangled her fingers through those thick strands so many times, it was a wonder he had any left.

  Yeah, she had some ideas. A whole suitcase full. A damn moving truck stuffed to the windshield with ideas. Unfortunately, following through would make her late for work, and with only three days left until she’d agreed to step off the case, keeping to a strict schedule was critical.

  “Well, that’s a bit tricky, don’t you think?” She slid off the stool, cup in hand, and—surprises never ceased—the click of her heels accompanied her steps around the island to the counter.

  Kelly turned and leaned against the sink, the heat of his gaze seeping through her white pencil skirt to singe her ass. “How so?”

  “Well, for starters, what if D’Avella finds out about our extracurricular activities?” Eden had scoured her brain for a more permanent workaround. God knew, she loved having him here. For the first time since she’d bought the place, Kelly had turned her condo into a home instead of a pointless use of too much space.

  Whether or not they should push their luck with a second overnighter, though, the call was his. She pulled the coffee pot from under the basket and refilled her cup, turned and lifted her brows to offer him another shot of caffeine as well. “I thought you didn’t want to risk being taken off the case.”

  He held out his mug with one hand, raked the other through his sex-tangled hair. “I have a hunch Cap and everyone else at the precinct already knows.”

  “What?” Eden jerked her hand back mid-pour and most of what was left in the pot surged past the spout.

  “Whoa, whoa, careful.” Kelly hopped to the side to protect his bare feet.

  “Shit, sorry.” She tore the towel off the stove handle and tossed it in his direction, but for God’s sake, he should’ve led with that the moment he got here. The entire precinct knew? How? When?

  Jostling the pot back onto the burner, she reeled a wad of paper towel off the holder and dropped it to the floor. “Kelly, what happened? What’d she say when she found out?”

  “Not much.” He knelt and mopped up the mess while she grabbed a few more sheets and scooted them around under her shoe, clearing the last of the drops. “But if she wanted to bust my balls, she probably would’ve called me in by now. Since she hasn’t, I can only assume she’s playing dumb since no one has filed a complaint charging me with misconduct.”

  Bracing one knee on the tile, he swung his arms overhead, and every defined muscle from his shoulders on down contracted in a centerfold mock-up as he lobbed the used paper towel toward the trash. The swinging cover spun like a turnstile and the sides wobbled as the ball landed dead center. Nothing but net.

  “Even if she did, it wouldn’t have changed anything.” He waved her close and she one-footed the pad under her shoe toward his knee. “On or off the force, I already told you last night I’m sticking right where I am. With you.”

  Well, damn. He’d ranked her above his career? She slumped.

  On the other hand, if given an ultimatum, she’d do the same. No contest.

  Truth was, she’d believed him when he’d said he wasn’t leaving. At least, for right now. And the way he’d gone to the trouble of hunting down her last name had blown the roof off any pre-conceived ideas life had taught her about the quality of the human condition. But long-term? Like, for the rest of their lives?

  She wrinkled her nose. Yeah, that ride still seemed a tad far-fetched for her to step to the window and buy a ticket.

  A repeat performance of his first shot, and Eden propped her hands on her hips. “I think you missed your calling.”

  He smirked, his penetrating blue eyes scorching every inch as he trailed his focus down her neck, past the snug fit of her stretchy white shirt, eating up her curves like some devoted patron worshipping at the altar of her body. His hand cupped the back of her ankle, and he skimmed his fingers up and down her calf. “You got a killer set of legs, you know that? Jesus, and these heels. Sexy as hell.”

  She went all wobbly at the mouth-watering visual of him kneeling before her. Stroking her. Damn, one touch from those calloused hands and he had her libido simmering on a slow burn. Coupled with his constant reassurance, it would be a miracle of biblical proportions if she didn’t implode right in the center of her kitchen.

  “What else?” His fingertips coasted past the hem of her skirt to her inner thigh.

  Her core throbbed, and she closed her eyes, wavering on her heels. “Huh?”

  “You said D’Avella was your first concern. What’s the second?”

  Shit. She shook her head. Talk about dousing her with a bucket of cold water.

  Easing back a step, and then another, she tried to memorize exactly how he looked in the moment—hands relaxed on his thighs, the stretch of tendon across his chest—just in case this next bit had him storming for the door.

  “I’m pretty sure Adrian’s outside.” She quickly held up her hand. “Not that I want you to go out there and do anything about it.” That episode of Tom and Jerry would end in more than a few broken lamps and destroyed refrigerators.

  “Oh, he’s definitely out there.” Kelly pushed to his feet. “Count on it.”

  Right, but that was exactly her point. She was counting on it. As long as Adrian stuck with her like a loyal, obedient stalker, he was doing exactly what she’d anticipated. Not only that, his presence confirmed her scheme was working. And good thing too, since he wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting around, counting down the minutes until they met face to face.

  The only downside? Today was day five of her agreement with Captain D’Avella. Time was running short, and P-rat still hadn’t made a move.

  Which meant something was holding him back.

  Narrowing her gaze, she chewed her bottom lip. While she had zero doubts Adrian would wait forever for a green light, she hadn’t been afforded the luxury of an open-ended calendar. Counting today, she only had three days left.

  Perhaps the time had come to dangle a carrot in front of his face.

  Turning away from Kelly, she paced the counter, heels rapping the tile with each measured step.

  “Uh-oh.” He pivoted to follow her with his gaze. “I smell trouble. Care to tell me what’s going on inside that devious head of yours?”

  By now, it was pretty much guaranteed everyone who had been monitoring her activ
ity had grown accustomed to her routine. But maybe that, in itself, was the problem. Up through last night, Mocha had insisted on shuttling her around. She’d spent her evenings with him via the video feed and even let him monitor her status long after she’d gone to bed. Being the well-behaved girl she was, she’d stuck to populated areas, showing off to everyone how she was playing it safe. But none of that had offered Adrian a window of opportunity.

  She needed to do the unexpected. Work some wiggle room into her schedule so it’d be easy for him to catch her alone. A few minutes in the hallway here. A half hour shopping layover there. She could build a slow increase into her day so that, with any luck, by Thursday, Adrian would be comfortable making a move.

  And as for the towering, rock-hard sex god standing in her kitchen?

  Shit. She swiveled around on the toe of her shoe. As if she hadn’t pissed him off enough to ditch out the back door already. But it wasn’t like she hadn’t warned him. Kelly knew full well she had relationship dyslexia. Even though the last thing she wanted was to hurt him, cause him any more grief, if she didn’t follow through with her plan, everything she’d fought for up to this point would be a waste.

  “I need to start putting myself out there more, Kelly. I need to take bigger risks or we’re never gonna stand a chance at catching Adrian in the act.”

  His chin inched a couple degrees toward the ceiling, and he crossed his arms, but instead of shooting her down right off the bat, he ran his tongue along the front of his teeth.

  Then squinted.

  Double shit. Abort! Abort!

  “If you’re suggesting we pull back the surveillance team, I can tell you right now that’s not gonna fly. I won’t have it and neither will D’Avella.”

  “No, no, I agree.” She wagged her finger. “But I don’t want anyone freaking out if I switch things up, either. The whole point is to make Adrian think he’s got the upper hand. Fool him into believing the police don’t have any leads. He’s been waiting for me to make a mistake and, as of today, I haven’t made any.”