by Katie Reus
Half-smiling, he stepped closer, moving with that predator-like grace that made her entire body alert with awareness. Not only had he stepped up today and just taken over, calling everyone necessary, he’d been so sweet to her mom. It wasn’t like he’d had to stay at the police station. Sure, he was insanely sexy, something she was finding impossible to ignore tonight. He had on dark slacks and a dark green sweater that made his piercing eyes pop even more against his tanned skin. The sweater sleeves were pushed up his forearms, showcasing muscles she wanted to trace with her fingers and lips. Looks aside, the man clearly had an honorable streak—and that was the sexiest thing of all.
He sat next to her, reaching out a hand as if to squeeze her leg, but pulled back at the last second and placed it on the comforter instead. There wasn’t much space between them and she swore she could feel his body heat. His scent was purely masculine, subtle and made her think of springtime. Being this close to him sent a shiver of pure delight down her spine.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked quietly.
“Great!” she said a little too brightly, then winced. “Okay, how fake did that sound?”
Sawyer’s chuckle made butterflies take flight in her belly. “Pretty bad. It’s okay to not be fine.”
“I know, I just don’t want anyone to worry.”
“Well, you don’t ever have to fake it with me,” he said quietly.
God, this man. Her gaze dipped to his lips almost against her will. When he made a rumbling, sort of growling sound, her eyes snapped up to meet his. Pure fire simmered beneath the surface of his gaze as he watched her.
She sucked in a breath at the visible lust. Oh yeah, no denying that. Any other night under any other circumstances she’d have over analyzed this to death, like she always did, but not now. Not when her stalker was dead and she felt like she could get back to living her life, to feeling normal again. But she didn’t want normal and boring. She wanted a taste of Sawyer.
Without thinking, she leaned forward and brushed her lips over his, softly. He stiffened slightly and she wanted to die of embarrassment. Maybe she’d made a mistake, misread the—
Sawyer crushed his mouth over hers, moaning into her mouth like a starving man.
She clutched his shoulders and suddenly found herself flat on her back on the bed, one of his thighs between her legs as they kissed. He was huge and she loved the sensation of being pinned down by all that raw strength. Kissing seemed like such a dull description for the way he was devouring her. She felt like she was a teenager again, making out for the first time, and that was insanely hot.
He tasted like coffee and chocolate, rich and sweet and she arched into him, sliding one hand down his back. She wanted to touch every inch of him. He held the back of her head in a solid grip as his other hand grasped her hip. He wasn’t making a move to do anything else other than kiss.
Normal Zoe wouldn’t make the first move, especially not with a man she’d only had a couple conversations with. Normal Zoe wouldn’t even think about sleeping with someone she hadn’t gone on at least half a dozen dates with, probably more. And by then she usually lost interest.
Normal Zoe could take a hike right now.
She slid her hands up the front of Sawyer’s shirt, shoving at it, wanting to see and feel all of him. Every muscular inch he was trying to hide under his clothes. She felt almost crazed with the need.
When he pulled his head back, breathing hard, he stared down at her. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Not enough to regret this.”
He started to respond, but she was having none of it. Reaching down, she grasped the edge of her fitted purple sweater and tugged it over her head. Before she’d pulled it all the way up Sawyer made a sexy-as-sin growling sound.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his gaze tracking over her exposed chest and torso. “I was going to say this is too fast.”
“You sure about that?” she murmured.
“I don’t want to take advantage,” he continued, his voice strained as he sat up, staring down at her as if he didn’t know where he wanted to start.
Reaching behind her back, she unsnapped her black bra and let it slide down her arms as she sat half up. “Then let me take advantage of you.” She had no idea where the bold words came from, but she felt as if she was on fire right now. New Zoe celebrated. A burning heat simmered inside her and was only growing hotter. The only thing that could ease her ache was Sawyer.
He made another strangled sound before his head suddenly dipped toward her breasts. She gripped his head, urging him on. He sucked on one hard nipple, palming the other with a surprising gentleness. The way his tongue laved over her sensitive bud had her arching into him, demanding more. She hummed with energy, as if she could crawl right out of her skin for how good he felt.
Gently, he pressed his teeth around her nipple and flicked his tongue over it, back and forth, as he rubbed his thumb over her other one. The dual sensations were making her crazy, heat building in between her legs like—
Knock, knock. “Zoe?” She froze at the sound of Vincent’s voice.
Sawyer’s head snapped up. “Is the door locked?” he whispered, not worry on his face, but clear discomfort.
She nodded at Sawyer as she called out, “I’ll be out in just a sec, V.”
“Okay, just making sure you’re good. A couple people are asking about you, but take your time.” He sounded so sweet and sincere, she had to smother a laugh. He wouldn’t be telling her to take her time if he knew what she was doing in here.
Sawyer made an almost inaudible groan and laid his head against her breast bone. “We don’t have enough time to do everything I plan to do to you anyway,” he whispered.
She slid her fingers through his dark hair and bit back a groan of her own. Her entire body was primed for an orgasm but there was no way in hell they could finish what they’d started. She had guests anyway and just couldn’t stay in here ravishing Sawyer, no matter how much she wanted that. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t disappointed. It was probably better this way though. Things might have gotten awkward—wait, what had Sawyer said? “Are you still planning on…doing those things?”
His head lifted and his eyes connected with hers, the intent in them clear. “Oh yeah.”
A shiver rolled through her and she fought the sudden urge to kick everyone out of her house so she could find out exactly what he had planned. After the number her ex had done on her, she hadn’t dated much in years—not that what she and Sawyer were going to do would be considered a date. Work had also prevented much of a social life so tonight she was going to make up for all those times she worked instead of having fun.
* * *
“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” Mallory Tate asked, twisting her slender fingers together in her lap.
“I’m good, but thank you,” Detective Carlito Duarte said, briefly scanning her sparse living room. There weren’t many personal touches and he knew she hadn’t been living in the waterfront condo more than a month. “You’ve already been eliminated as a suspect so you can relax. I just want to know more details about your husband.”
“Ex-husband.” Then she seemed to remember herself and cleared her throat.
It was late Friday night but the woman had been willing to talk to him. Not that Carlito had given her much of a choice. He’d told her he could meet her now or bring her down to the police station for questioning. Since she’d already been questioned while her alibi was being confirmed he knew she had no desire to go back to the station.
“Sorry, ex. So tell me a little more about him. What he was like as a husband.” Often it was better to let people just talk instead of giving them specific questions, especially in a situation like this. She was more likely to be honest this way.
“He was…” She looked behind him, her pretty face tensing for a moment before she met Carlito’s gaze again. “I’m sorry, it’s hard to believe he’s dead.”
“I’m sorry
for your loss,” he murmured, even though he wasn’t sure he was sorry at all. Not after the report he’d read from Zoe Hansen.
“I’m not.” Mallory’s voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. In her late thirties, she had long, honey-blonde hair and long, lean limbs. She was conventionally attractive but there was an almost regal air about her. The type of women he so often came into contact with in Miami from the upper crust had a plastic quality about them. Not Mallory Tate. She was the kind of woman who would definitely age gracefully.
He raised an eyebrow. “I take it that it wasn’t a happy marriage?”
“At first it was. Or I thought it was.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling. For a brief moment he saw a flash of fear in her gaze, the type he’d seen on the faces of countless battered women before.
Well, hell. She’d never filed any reports and there’d been nothing in his measly information file on her to suggest Klein had abused her. She hadn’t said much when she’d been at the station earlier, had let her attorney do most of the talking. “Nothing you say has to leave this room. Just let me know what’s on the record and off.”
His words seemed to trigger something in her because she straightened. “I don’t care who you tell. I’m tired of being afraid of him. I…know people thought I married him for his money or status, but it’s not true. I loved him. Well, the version of him he let me see when we were dating. His previous wife seemed so vindictive and he convinced me she’d say anything to keep us apart, that she just didn’t want him to be happy. Now I wish I’d taken the time to listen to her, but I was just so blinded, so in love. He was very charming but about a year after our marriage that veneer started to crack. I won’t bore you with details because I’m sure you’ve heard the same, tired story a hundred times before.” She laughed, the sound brittle and self-deprecating.
“I want to hear your story.” He meant it. After speaking with her at the station he thought he’d had her pegged. He’d been wrong. It didn’t happen often.
She gave him a wry smile. “He changed, or I guess he just started showing his true colors. It was little stuff at first, nothing I did was good enough. Or I embarrassed him at a hospital function—which was complete crap considering he was the one who always got drunk, but that’s not the point. At a fundraiser I caught him fooling around with a woman I know. We’re not friends, but we belong to the same country club. I was angry and went to see a divorce attorney that week. I tried to leave him but…he made it clear I’d never be allowed to do that.”
Bastard. “How?”
She swallowed hard and glanced down at her hands, clenched tightly together in her lap. For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then her voice came, quiet and sure. “He drugged me and raped me. More than once. He kept me drugged up for a week. I was too weak to fight him but I was aware of what he was doing the entire time. At the end of the week he broke one of my arms. He made it clear that if I tried to leave him again, my punishment next time would be worse.”
Carlito clenched his jaw, anger pulsing through him. He was supposed to stay objective during all cases, but it was hard to care that Klein was dead. Everything he heard about the guy was bad, that being an understatement.
“From that point he started monitoring my spending, accounts, everything. It was like living in a prison, until… I can’t know for sure, but he must have started seeing someone because he started paying less and less attention to me. It was a godsend. I was able to start siphoning money away and I was getting ready to run when he left on that medical trip overseas.” She snorted at that, bitter amusement on her face.
No wonder she’d been glad to see him go. Only years of experience in law enforcement allowed Carlito to keep his expression impassive.
“He divorced me before he left and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Like being released from prison. I heard about what happened to Doctor Hansen later, from a friend whose husband works at the hospital, and I believe every word of what she said that he did. Braddock has—had—a God complex in the worst way. He would have been ballsy enough to attack her at the hospital and think he could get away with it. What’s worse, he did.” She shook her head, disgust clear on her face.
After taking note of the names of the two women she’d mentioned; the one she’d caught her ex-husband with and the friend with ties to the hospital, Carlito talked with her for a few more minutes before letting himself out.
It wasn’t case-breaking evidence, but it was a start. He was going to find out who’d killed Braddock Klein, and more importantly, who’d tried to frame Zoe Hansen for it.
Chapter 6
Sawyer glanced up from scanning the news on his phone and set it on Zoe’s island countertop as she walked into the room, a silky multicolored robe cinched loosely around her slender waist.
“Coffee,” she rasped out, blinking blearily at him before stumbling to her one-cup maker.
He bit back a smile and waited for her to get what she clearly needed. Last night hadn’t gone remotely how he’d hoped. After their scorching kiss, the party had gotten louder and busier and people had stayed until almost three. Finally Tanice had politely cleared everyone out because Zoe had been barely staying on her feet from exhaustion—and some drinks.
While he’d wanted nothing more than to pick up where they’d left off, Zoe had had a few more glasses of wine and a couple shots from friends so he’d carried her to bed. Clearly she was feeling the effects now.
“Oh my God,” she muttered, after taking a sip of her coffee. “I haven’t done shots since I was twenty-two. What was I thinking?”
He snorted. “That you weren’t in jail.”
She grinned and pulled out a seat next to him. “Well, there is that. I can’t believe you’re still here.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re really surprised?”
“Yeah. I was clearly not able to, you know…” Her cheeks flushed prettily as she trailed off and raised her cup to her mouth.
A mouth he’d had plenty of fantasies about before he’d finally dozed off in her guest room. There’d been no way he could have left her last night, not after everything she’d been through.
“Thanks for tucking me in last night. That was sweet.” Before he could respond her eyes widened and she softly groaned. “Does Vincent know you stayed over?”
Sawyer stilled at her question. Her brother was the last person he wanted to think about right now. “Would it matter if he did?”
“No. Not for the reason you’re thinking. Or I think you’re thinking. Gah, I need more coffee.” Glancing down, she took great interest in focusing on her drink.
Nope, he was having none of that. Reaching out, he snagged an arm around her waist and tugged her onto his lap. She let out a yelp of surprise, but moved willingly, settling across his thighs as she turned to face him.
“I just don’t want to explain to my brother about whatever is happening between us. I’m a grown woman, but he’s still my brother. And you two have a history.”
As long as she didn’t want to hide him. “Fair enough. Why were you surprised I was still here?”
Her cheeks flushed again and he had to bite back a groan. Seeing her like that brought up thoughts of what she’d look like naked, face and body flushed from pleasure. “I just thought, well, you know.”
“That I’d bail because we didn’t fu—end up in bed together?” He was used to talking bluntly, but he didn’t like the thought of what he and Zoe would hopefully share soon as simple fucking.
“Yeah?” She lifted her shoulders slightly.
His jaw tightened but he didn’t respond. They didn’t know each other well enough for him to be annoyed about her assumption, even if it rankled him. “Go out to dinner with me tonight?”
She blinked, probably from the sudden change in subject, but nodded, smiling softly. “I’d like that. And, not that I don’t like this position but, if you get between me and my coffee this early in the m
orning, we might have words,” she murmured, reaching out to grab her mug.
“Duly noted.” His lips twitched as she took another sip of the hot drink then let out an orgasmic-sounding sigh. He couldn’t believe she woke up looking so fucking sexy. Her hair was wild and curly even though she’d tried to tame it back into some sort of clip thing. It didn’t matter, the corkscrews bounced everywhere. Visions played in his mind of what it would be like to see her hair around her face and shoulders as she rode him, her back arched and her breasts bared for him to hold, kiss, lick.
“So how did you end up working for Red Stone?” she asked after another sip followed up with one of those sexy sighs.
God, those sounds were making him hard. He shifted uncomfortably, hoping she didn’t notice. He’d always been in control of his body. Except around her apparently. “It was sort of a perfect storm of things. I’d hit my twenty year mark in the Navy—”
“Twenty?” Her eyes widened then she winced. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Interrupt all you want,” he murmured, tightening his grip around her. “And yes, twenty. I joined when I was seventeen so I’m thirty-seven, if that’s your way of asking.”
“I wasn’t, but I was curious. So, it was a perfect storm…”
He grinned, loving the feel of her sitting on his lap, in his arms. This light banter with a woman was new territory for him. It had been years since he’d been in a relationship and even then, his last one had been all physical, something he hadn’t realized until too late. “It was just one of those things. The job offer came in and I had to take it.”
