“Oh God, Matt. More. Please.”
“Shhhhhh,” he said. She could have smacked him for the male amusement under the husky words, but another slick stroke ended all thought of distracting him. “Like you like this, boss.”
She couldn’t hasten the pleasure building with slow deliberation inside her, like a fist tightening around her core. He was so hard, each stroke slick, unhurried, confident. She began to tremble, muscles quivering as molten pleasure coursed through her body, burning away muscle and bone. He took his time, drove her nearer and nearer the edge until she wasn’t sure if she needed or feared the oncoming freight train of release.
She dug her nails into his shoulder, wound the other hand in the loose denim at his hips, and took it. Took him. Even with her face pressed to his damp skin, the cry that tore from her throat as the tight fist opened and flung her into oblivion echoed in the dark, still room. He gave an indistinct growl into her hair, thrust again, and again, then went rigid and jetted into her.
Moments passed. The thumping club rhythm seeped back into her consciousness as the tension eased from his shoulders and arms, then his back. The fingers gripping her hip twitched then went lax. Still deep inside her, he relaxed, letting her bear some of his weight. They were in the same position, her limbs entwined around the strong column of his body, but the attitude was completely different. He wasn’t a figure carved from living granite but a man, sharing a stolen moment with her as the pleasure ebbed from their bodies.
And then she knew. Knew what she was feeling, the thing at odds with the stress and fear and helplessness. She was falling for Matt Dorchester, a man completely capable of acting the role of a lover while feeling nothing at all. He was inside her, his sweat salty on her lips, his body under her hands, and she was falling for him.
Unlike the sex they’d just had, she was falling hard and fast.
As if she’d shouted the words aloud, something changed in the air. He cleared his throat, stepped back, and turned to the trash can. Cool air sidled up her torso, making her shiver. She slid off the counter, pulled on her panties, kicked her shoes upright so she could step into them, and rewrapped her dress.
A rattle of the doorknob, then a knock over Natalie’s voice. “You naughty kids, I know you’re both in there. Eve, an unexpected bachelorette party just arrived. We need you out front, sweets. You too, handsome. There’s a blonde looking for her Chad special, whatever that is.”
A distraction from her distraction. Eve looked at him, lifted an eyebrow and her hand to his mouth. “A Soul Kiss,” he said after she wiped lipstick off his mouth and neck with her thumb.
“A little more subtle than asking for Sex on the Beach,” Eve said as Matt unlocked the door and hauled it open.
“Well, hey, sugar,” Nat said sweetly. “Make yourself useful?”
Matt ignored her, but Eve saw a muscle jump in his jaw before he disappeared into the bar.
“The things you put up with for your job,” Eve called after his departing back, then stifled a hysterical giggle.
Natalie peeked in the door. “You decent?” she asked, then added, “You okay?”
No. She had to start thinking through her decisions. Helping the investigation wasn’t an impulse. Tempting Matt into sleeping with her was, but she wasn’t trained to work as an undercover agent. She didn’t have an alter ego or a cover identity; she was just herself, mightily attracted to Matt Dorchester and acting on that attraction.
“I’m fine,” she said. “But if people don’t stop asking me that, I won’t be. Let’s go.”
*
She walked into a nearly full house, music rolling through the crowd like waves after a storm. Natalie directed her to the bachelorette party. She smiled, complimented outfits, laughed, congratulated the bride-to-be, bought the first round, and took picture after picture as the maid of honor passed phone after phone from group members to Eve.
“Thanks for doing this,” Miranda said, handing over another smartphone.
“My pleasure. Thanks for celebrating at Eye Candy.” Eve shifted the lens so Matt’s face wasn’t included in the shot. She’d done her best, but a few pictures ended up on the web. It couldn’t be helped. “On three. One, two, three.” The flash went off.
“We booked a couple of tables at Miss Martini but the vibe sucked, so we left early,” Miranda explained as she exchanged phones with Eve. “My cousin had a birthday party here last month, and my office is thinking about moving into the East Side business park. I wanted to check out the neighborhood.”
“That’s great,” Eve said.
“Quite a few employees live across the river. The location’s great, but there hasn’t been the … infrastructure to justify the move. The business park would change all of that.”