Critical Instinct

by Crouch, Janie

  Paige stood and followed Christine out the door. She could feel Brett’s eyes on her the whole way.

  * * *

  Back at his desk, Brett stared at the computer screen, but didn’t actually see anything on it.

  The look in Paige’s eyes in the interrogation room was the only thing he could see right now.

  The most Brett could do to help her had been to stay away. To let others —whose neutrality could not be called into question— determine that she was not responsible.

  But that look in her eyes.

  Anger he could’ve handled. She had the right to be pissed off at how Schliesman had blindsided her with the news of Teresa Cavasos’ death. Had the right to be furious at how they’d accused her of wanting attention. Had a right to be angry when she found out the man she’d just spent the weekend doing incredibly intimate things with, had been listening to the entire conversation and doing nothing.

  Even though there was nothing he could’ve done that wouldn’t have made it worse.

  But she hadn’t been angry. She’d been hurt.

  That look in her eyes.

  Brett rubbed his hand over his face, exhausted. He should’ve done something earlier. Should’ve insisted he and Alex go in instead of letting Schliesman try to set Paige up. Should’ve pulled the damn fire alarm for heaven’s sake. Anything to stop what was happening to her.

  But Brett knew deep inside he hadn’t done any of those things because he’d wanted to see how Paige would answer the questions, how she would react to the news of Teresa’s death.

  He wanted to know what the hell was going on with these pictures she drew.

  If Brett hadn’t been there to see it with his own eyes, he would’ve never in a thousand years believed she had drawn it in her sleep. And Paige was wise enough to know not to mention that detail to anyone else. She’d learned her lesson from drawing herself.

  Then a thought hit Brett: had she drawn the picture of herself in her sleep also? She hadn’t mentioned that. Of course, she wouldn’t have mentioned the sleep drawing at all if he hadn’t literally stumbled onto it.

  He planned to ask her.

  Alex walked over to Brett’s desk. “Just got off the phone with Hunter Barnes. Jeffries’ alibi checks out. She was with multiple people all day Thursday, actually most of the week.”

  “Okay.”

  Alex snickered. “Yeah, I’ll bet you’re pretty relieved to know your lady friend isn’t involved in a homicide.”

  Brett never had any question about that. What he didn’t understand was the drawing. Brett and Alex both studied it where it sat on his desk.

  “It’s strange, right?” Alex said. “How did she draw it if she didn’t know Cavasos? Why would she draw it?”

  Drawing a random person in her sleep was weird.

  Drawing a specific person in her sleep who had been abducted and killed in the very outfit she’d been wearing at the time went straight into Bizarroville. Brett knew there was no way he could mention it. Ever.

  “She’s an artist.” Brett shrugged, attempting to be as casual as possible. “World renowned. Maybe her brain works differently than other people’s. Like she said, she saw Teresa in the parking lot and drew her later. Her subconscious picked her out to draw.”

  “Well, Paige’s subconscious made a hell of a choice.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, we’ve eliminated her as a suspect unless something changes,” Alex said.

  “The captain will be less than thrilled.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow, nodding. “Yeah. He doesn’t like her.”

  “He doesn’t like that she gets special attention from higher ups.”

  “Yeah, well, he doesn’t like that about you either. So watch your back.” Alex gave a little wave before walking back to his desk.

  Brett didn’t care right now about the captain’s lack of love for him. What he cared about right now was Paige.

  That look still haunted him.

  When she left today he hadn’t been able to go after her like he wanted. Hadn’t been able to drive her home, explain his actions, ease that look in her eyes.

  He hadn’t been able to go after her then, but he’d damn well be there as soon as he could.

  Chapter Eighteen

  On the long drive up to her house Brett prepared what he would say to Paige. How he would explain his actions at the station and why he hadn’t stepped in to help.

  That he’d wanted to, but it would’ve made the situation worse. That he’d done what he could by getting word to her security team so they could get a lawyer in to her.

  But to be honest, Brett didn’t even know if she was going to allow him past the guards to see her. And although he wouldn’t blame her, he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do if she did that.

  So when the guards allowed him through, his relief was tangible. Perhaps she wasn’t as upset as he had thought.

  She opened the door after his brief knock, but didn’t look him in the eye. Just like she hadn’t looked him in the eye since she’d realized he’d been present during her questioning at the station. She closed the door behind him and walked back to her living room to stand in front of one of the huge windows that looked out onto that magnificent view, resting her hand against it. She didn’t say anything.

  Brett watched from the doorway. Paige wasn’t pouting, wasn’t pissy. He knew her well enough to know that. She wasn’t planning to lord over him what happened today.

  But she was withdrawing.

  Brett knew it with every fiber of his being. She was closing herself off to him. And although she’d probably never be rude or even unfriendly, she never planned to let him close to her —body or emotions— again.

  That was just totally unacceptable. A fire burned through Brett, something carnal, primitive. She would not shut him out. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Couldn’t bear it.

  All the words he’d so carefully planned were not going to help him now. They were just words. To Paige words would always be secondary.

  He needed to bind her to him in the quickest, strongest, most basic way possible.

  He had his jacket and tie off before he was a few steps into the room. He draped them over the couch.

  Her back was to him so she didn’t know what he was doing. Brett didn’t care. He would take every advantage —fair or unfair— that he could get. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as he crossed the rest of the way towards her.

  She had showered recently, he could tell. Her mass of golden brown hair was still damp, sticking slightly to her t-shirt. She had on soft gray pants, her feet were bare. She was still leaning against the window, looking out silently at the twilight in front of her.

  Brett knew he had only one chance at this. If he gave her the opportunity to close him all the way out, she’d never let him back in.

  He felt her stiffen when he took her hair and tucked it over one of her shoulders, leaving her neck exposed on the other side.

  He didn’t give her a chance to protest. He brought his lips down to her neck, softly biting then easing the spot with gentle kisses over and over. His hand came down and slipped under her shirt and the elastic of her pants. One grabbed her hip, the other splayed wide over the soft skin of her belly, pulling her back against him.

  His lips continued to nip and lick along her throat. Not wanting to give her time to think —only feel— he slid one hand up to her breast and the other down further to the juncture of her thighs.

  She stiffened, but he didn’t stop. Felt her nipple pebble under his fingers before he slid to the other one. His other hand slid lower easing one finger inside her, immediately moving to touch the spot he knew would make her tremble. A sigh rushed out of her lips before turning to a soft moan.

  He felt her arch her back into him as both his hands teased her, his touches too soft to give her the release she wanted. She tried to turn, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “Put
your hands on the window,” he whispered into her ear. “And leave them there. Just feel me. Feel us.”

  She did what he asked and he rewarded her by dipping his fingers further into her wet center. She moaned as he kissed her ear on his way down her neck again, his other hand moving between her now erect nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

  He eased her hips back with his hand so he could thrust against her through his clothing. But right now he planned to make her come apart with just his fingers.

  He slipped them deeper inside her, touching her where he knew she needed to be touched. She stiffened and her arms fell from the window. He immediately stopped.

  “Window, baby. Keep your hands there.”

  She groaned and put them back up and he immediately restarted his movements. Applying more pressure; gently flicking that little bundle of nerves that tightened even as she became wetter. Soon her head fell against the window too and she was nearly panting.

  “Brett, I can’t…”

  She couldn’t get there. He knew. He was keeping her from her release on purpose and it was taking every ounce of his concentration because all he wanted was to ease the rest of their clothes off and take her right against this window.

  And he would be inside her later, he promised himself. Taking her hard and fast until neither of them could tell where he ended and she began. But not yet. Not until he had bound her to him in every way he could figure how.

  He kept her on the edge as long as possible, her face flushed, body trembling, soft keen falling from her lips between begs for more. Finally he slid his lips to the place where her neck met her shoulder and bit. Hard. Just as his fingers put pressure on that tiny nub of flesh that hurled her over the edge.

  Her entire body jerked and she called out his name, grinding her hips back against him. He almost lost it right then, but held on to his sanity. Barely.

  Paige sobbed as she came down from her release, her body slack, arms falling bonelessly from the window. Brett eased his fingers from her, sliding her pants all the way off as he did so.

  As she turned and melted against him, he slid her shirt over her head. He carried her naked form over to the overstuffed chair and ottoman. He laid her gently on it and she finally started to regain some measure of focus and composure.

  Brett unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and threw it to the side. Paige’s eyes were still mostly shut as residual shudders flowed through her.

  But they flew open as he reached down and grabbed her legs and slid her down further on the chair, spreading them on either side of the ottoman, leaving her wide open to him.

  “Oh, we’re not even close to done,” he said as he bent and began kissing his way up her leg from her knee.

  * * *

  Not even close to done? Paige’s whole body felt like jello. How could there be more?

  She hadn’t planned on there being anything at all. Had just planned to politely let Brett know that she understood he’d just been doing his job today, but that she didn’t think it was going to work out between them personally.

  She had thought he might be relieved at her words. Save him the trouble of saying them.

  But now, good heavens, now he was currently kissing his way —with tiny little nips that were driving her crazy— up her thigh.

  By the time he reached her center, Paige couldn’t think of any words, much less the words of goodbye she had planned to say.

  She had thought her body had shattered a few minutes ago against the window. That was nothing compared to the way she came apart with his lips moving on her.

  He knew exactly what to do, how much pressure to apply and where, to ratchet up her hunger until she could hardly breathe.

  And with her legs sprawled out over the side of the ottoman, all she could do was feel and see all the colors that flew around them like a meteor shower. They burst into tiny flames as she screamed out grabbing hold of the arms of the chair as if they were lifelines. His hand gripped her buttocks hard, keeping her in place for his masterful tongue when she would’ve slid away. All she could do was sob his name.

  He eased back, kissing his way back down her trembling thighs. But before Paige could even catch her breath Brett had removed his pants and was easing himself inside her. She cried out as he hooked his arms under her knees, bringing her legs up to wrap around his waist.

  His face was a look of sheer concentration, moisture dotting on his forehead, as he moved in and out of her. She realized he was waiting for her pleasure to build back up to that peak again. Realizing her needs were more important to him than his own was all the invitation her body needed. She could feel her body tightening, pleasure simmering back through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “You come with me this time,” she whispered.

  He hooked one of her legs higher, changing their angle and Paige gasped. She hadn’t been sure another release would even be possible for her. Now she had no doubt.

  His eyes locked with hers as he moved within her, his hand cradling her head like she was the most precious person on earth.

  Then gentleness was gone as need took over. Groaning, he reached down and nipped hard at that place on her neck where he’d kissed her before. It was all it took to throw them both over that final edge.

  They called each other’s names as they fell.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I’m a little surprised you didn’t have me turned away at the gate.”

  A couple hours later Paige sat on one of her kitchen barstools, wrapped snuggly in her robe. She had a cup of coffee in her hands and a piece of toast in front of her that he’d made. For himself he’d made a sandwich to go with his coffee.

  She watched him with just a hint of wariness. Considering she had planned to just let Brett in, let him make his professional justification for his actions earlier today, and let him leave, she was pretty darn surprised by the shivers that were still racing through her every few minutes.

  “I thought about it,” Paige admitted. She knew now it would’ve been the much safer decision. “What you did at the station… I know it was because of your job, but it sucked, Wagner.”

  He winced. “I know. I’m sorry. It was the best of pretty poor options.”

  “And once you got here? What was that blitz attack?”

  He came to stand right in front of her on the barstool, his hands gripping either side of her hips so that they were face to face. “You were going to keep me out. Emotionally. You’d already decided it. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Wasn’t going to let you go.”

  “Sex as an emotional weapon?”

  His forehead touched her. “I’m finding when it comes to keeping you in my life I’ll use just about any weapon I have available to me.”

  Silver simmered all around him. Determination. It was hard to stay aloof —not that she’d been doing a good job of that anyway— when confronted with a man determined that you would be his. When that was what you really wanted anyway.

  “Thank you for contacting my security team so they sent a lawyer,” she finally whispered. “Jacob let me know it was you who let them know what was going on.”

  He kissed her briefly then moved back to the table. “I’m glad they got one there so quickly.”

  Paige was too. Today had been pretty torturous.

  “Why didn’t you come to me with the picture?” he asked her.

  “When I saw the ad in the paper this morning I recognized Teresa. I thought she was a missing person. I thought maybe I could help.” Paige shrugged. “I didn’t think the case had anything to do with you. Besides…”

  After a few moments of silence Brett prompted her. “Besides, what?”

  She took a sip of her coffee, which she recognized as a stalling tactic. But it couldn’t be avoided. “I wasn’t sure exactly what was between you and me. We’d only spent one night together and I wasn’t even sure you wanted to see me again.”

  Brett cocked his head towards the living room. “Well
, I hope that’s been cleared up.”

  As much as she liked the thought, she still couldn’t stop thinking about this afternoon at the station. “The way you looked at me today in that interrogation room. It’s hard. Knowing you were watching the whole time. Could’ve stopped it.” She huddled down into her robe. “I’m having a hard time with that.”

  He put his sandwich down and took a step towards her. “Paige—”

  She held a hand out to stop him. “Did you think I had something to do with Teresa Cavasos’ death? Is that why you didn’t intervene?”

  The thought that he could’ve sat there, suspecting her, made something hitch inside Paige, wanting to break apart.

  This time her outstretched hand didn’t stop him. He came around the island until he was standing right in front of her.

  “No,” he told her. “I never once thought you were a part of Teresa Cavasos’ death. The entire time Schliesman was questioning you I knew you were innocent.”

  Paige felt she could breathe again at his words.

  He cupped her cheek with his hand. “I couldn’t go in there and stop it. And once I was in there, I couldn’t give you any special treatment.”

  “You were doing your job, I understand.”

  But it still hurt.

  “There were people watching you. Watching me. Going into that interrogation room as your lover would’ve been the worst thing I could do for both of us.”

  She shrugged but didn’t look him in the eyes.

  He took the coffee cup out of her hand and put it on the island then cupped her cheeks with both his, forcing her to look up at him.

  “I was caught off guard. A new homicide comes across my desk and low and behold it’s the same lady you’d just drawn in your sleep. I had no idea what that meant.”

  She nodded. It was freaky. And he didn’t even know the half of it.

  “Then they tell me they have a possible suspect they’re questioning. I’m trying to get in touch with you when I walk into the room and find you sitting there. The suspect.”