Britain
Brit was relievedthe gallery opening had been a success… and also relieved it was over. She was ready to focus all her efforts on their case. While her feelings for Joaquin were real, so was their conversation about the future.
Eyes wide open.
Back at his condo, they went straight to his office. He sat behind his desk, she on the sofa. They discussed the evidence found at the crime scenes—blonde hair, a partial print, a single button—and how all the female victims had attended Acorn Boarding School.
“What time is our appointment at Acorn tomorrow?” she asked.
“Twelve-thirty,” he replied. “It’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive. The school’s near Harrisonburg, Virginia.”
At two in the morning, Brit shut her laptop. “I’m done. I need sleep.”
“We did good.” He pushed out of the chair and stretched. His sweater lifted, revealing his well-defined abs.
What a hottie.
He quirked a smile that made her pulse kick up speed. “You doin’ okay over there?”
Warmth blanketed her cheeks. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“What do you mean? In the shower?”
“You’re tired. I wouldn’t want you to slip. I told Z I wouldn’t letanythinghappen to you.”
She sauntered close, ran her fingers down his striated arm, and clasped his hand. “Well, then, let’s go.”
He captured her face in his hands, dropped a tender kiss on her lips. Then, he lifted her into a fireman’s carry. Her laughter carried all the way down the hall and into his bathroom. There, he set her down and kissed her again before turning on the double faucets.
Off came her peasant blouse, before she removed her skirt. Wearing her bra and panties, she sashayed close, pressed her breasts against his chest, and devoured him in a kiss.
His growl reverberated through her, landing between her legs. She broke away to pull off his sweater, then stepped back to appreciate the god of a man before her.
Within seconds, he shed his jeans and boxer briefs.
All man, all muscle, with a headful of tousled blond hair framing his face. The look in his ice-blue eyes pieced her soul with the intensity of a thousand suns.
After wrapping her hand around his stiffened cock, she led him into the shower.
The hot water drenched them.
He wrapped her close, his kisses ardent, his tongue stroking hers with an urgency that left her gasping for air. Everything about him turned her into a ball of need. The harder she kissed him, the more she needed his mouth on hers, his tongue thrusting against hers. His growl shot through her, landing between her legs. She couldn’t stop stroking his muscular back, his defined shoulders, his hardened triceps, while his thickened erection pressed against her abs.
When the kiss ended, they stared into each other’s eyes while she tried to steady her breathing. Exhilarated by his touch, the heat in his eyes, the rising and falling of his chest, she was overcome with desire. Her insides throbbed so hard, she could barely stand.
“Fuck me.” She turned around, pressed her palms to the cold tile. “I need you so badly.”
He nudged her legs wider, pressed the tip of his cock to her opening, then slid inside her. Groaning through the pleasure, her eyes fluttered closed.
“Oh, Brit,” he ground out.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, pressed his palm over hers, and kissed her shoulder. Nestled inside her, he murmured, “I can never get enough of you.”
She started moving on him, the friction of their connection sending her flying towards a release.
He removed his hand from her waist, reached around, and fondled her breast, then teased her nipple with his fingers. One quick pinch had her grinding against him.