Logan sat up abruptly. The room was dark but he could tell he was alone, the bed empty beside him. But the warm musky scent of sex lingered, and reaching out, he found the sheets still warm.
By the time they’d finished, he’d been barely able to move, so sated he didn’t want to even try. He’d brought her again and again until finally releasing his own control and coming in a huge swell of pleasure that had crashed over him, leaving him limp and useless. Then he’d thrown the sheet over them, dragged her close, and listened as her breathing evened out. She’d been asleep in minutes.
He’d lain awake a while longer trying to get his head around it. His fantasy girl, here in his bed. And she’d been every bit as good as he remembered. Better.
Except for the policewoman part.
That definitely hadn’t been part of his fantasies.
He ran a hand through his hair. Where the hell had she gone? She wouldn’t sneak out on him, would she? There was no sound from the bathroom.
He flicked on the bedside lamp. Yup, she was gone. Then a door banged downstairs. Pushing off the sheet, he got to his feet, found a pair of jeans, and pulled them on.
He had an idea she was running. And for some reason, he didn’t want her to make a clean getaway. Funny, he usually made sure he went to the woman’s place so he could be the one to make a speedy escape when he was ready—usually about five minutes after the sex was finished. It was weird—and not particularly pleasant—to be on the other side.
He went quietly down the staircase. A light peeped out from under the living room door and he pushed it open. She stood with her back to him, fully clothed, so she hadn’t planned on coming back to bed.
He felt a little…used.
He cleared his throat, and she jumped and whirled around, huge handbag clutched in one hand, cell phone in the other.
“Where are you sneaking off to?”
She stared at him, her gaze fixed on his naked chest. He liked the way she looked at him. So did his dick, coming to sudden life. Somehow he didn’t think she was going to stick around for another of his fantasies. Pity.
“Home,” she said. “I have an early shift.”
“Wait. I’ll drive you.”
“There’s no need. I called a cab. It will be here any second.”
He studied her for a moment. For a woman who’d just experienced multiple orgasms, she didn’t appear very relaxed. “Are you running away, sergeant?”
“There’s nothing to run away from. We had a good time, but it won’t happen again. We have nothing in common.” She hesitated, nibbled on her lower lip, and gave a small shrug. “As you pointed out, I’m a police officer and…”
“…and I’m an ex-con?”
She shrugged again. “More along the lines of you’ve made it very clear you hate cops. I’m a cop.”
“Maybe I’m willing to make an exception. Anyway, I don’t have to like you. I’m not looking for long-term or happy ever after. I don’t believe in that crap. And you don’t have to like me. All we have to do is accept that for some reason we have fucking awesome sex together. You remember that bit, sergeant? You remember the bit where you came all over my face?”
She pursed her lips and sniffed. “Well, maybe I need more out of a relationship.” Her eyes widened and she backtracked quickly. “Not that we have a relationship or anything.”
He chuckled. “You don’t think I’m the sort of man to have relationships?”
“Honestly?” she asked, clearly making no attempt to keep the incredulity out of her tone. “When I saw you yesterday, you were half buried beneath the biggest pair of breasts I have ever seen.”
His lips twitched. “I was interviewing dancers.”
“Really?” She arched a brow, but was saved from saying anything more by the sound of a car horn from outside. Presumably her taxi. “I have to go.”
For a second, he considered stopping her, arranging to see her again. But he had a hunch she wouldn’t be too receptive to that idea. For now, he’d let it go. He knew where she lived and where she worked. He stepped aside as she approached the door and let her pass, though his fingers itched with the need to reach out.
He followed her into the hall. “I had a good time, sergeant,” he said as she stepped through the front door and into the night. “Perhaps we can do it again sometime.”
He thought she wasn’t going to answer, then her muttered words floated back to him as she hurried down the gravel drive. “Not a chance in hell.”