He rubbed his whiskers, and something heated deep in her core. “I’ll talk to you, but not at the station.”
She frowned. “You’ll talk to me where I damn well want to talk.”
He paused and his gaze swept her head to toe. “You wanna be in charge?”
“I am in charge.” Her cuffs hung heavily in her back pocket.
“Hmmm. Well, I bought condoms. Wanna come in and we’ll wrestle for control?” Low and soft, his voice rumbled between them to lick right through her skin. Even so, a hint of anger wafted on the breeze.
She blinked and shoved desire away with temper. “You posted bail for Duck and took him from the station.”
Kell’s jaw clenched, but no expression lightened those too-dark eyes. “After last night, you think I actually killed Duck?”
After last night? “I think you’re a liar.”
“I didn’t lie to you, Alexandra.”
The way he said her name, with possession and patience, dark male inflection, inched her hand toward the cuffs.
He stilled her by covering her hand with his at her hip. Drawing her near, he reached around and grabbed the handcuffs, twirling them around one finger. “If we’re playing bondage games, you’re the one tied up, darlin’.”
Heat flared into her cheeks. How was it possible to be so pissed off and turned on at the same time? “You’re messing with the wrong cop.”
“You’re the only cop I want to mess with.” He turned and threw the cuffs. The silver spun through the air, went high, and landed on top of the garage with a loud clamor. “I’d prefer you in leather restraints, or at least feather-lined cuffs. No hard iron for such delicate skin.”
Even though he was being a total smartass, the image aroused by his words slid under her skin to find desire and uncurl it.
“Answer my question, or I’m going to arrest you.”
“Can’t. Don’t have probable cause.” His lips curved, but the amusement failed to reach his darkened eyes. “Tell you what. How about you take a ride with me, and then I’ll answer any question you have. Honestly.”
A ride behind that body on a powerful machine? God.
The spit dried up in her mouth, and her legs actually tingled. Sounded like a dream come true . . . one of those sexy ones where reality spins away. But she was a cop, and her brain ruled her movements. “Not a chance.”
He shrugged. “Your choice.” Stepping to the side, he began to walk toward the line of bikes.
She hesitated. No way could she drag him downtown. “Wait.”
He paused but didn’t turn around. A massive man, a dangerous one, without question. Standing in the early dawn, after a storm and right before the next one arrived.
She took a step toward him. The investigation was heating up, and she needed him to talk. Even more, she wanted a ride. Behind him, on that bike. Just for a moment of craziness. Plus, she was armed. “You’ll tell me everything?”
“No. I’ll answer every question you have, but you have to ask the right questions.” His voice echoed off the garage doors and back at her, powerful and low timbered.
The right questions? She’d just keep asking until she found the right one. “Fine.” It was a mistake of colossal proportions, but she needed answers. She had to get those drugs off the street. “Before I decide, answer one question.”
He still didn’t turn around to face her. “One question.”
“Did you kill Duck?”
His head lifted, and his shoulders squared. “Accept the answer this time, because it isn’t going to change. I did not kill Duck.”
Was he lying?
If she left with him, what kind of danger would she be in? “Fine. One ride.” She took her cell phone and quickly typed a text to Bernie that her car was at Fire and she was going for a ride with Kellach. Sure, Bernie would kill her, but at least he’d know where she was, just in case. “I’ve let the police know I’m with you.”
Kellach finally turned at that, his flash of teeth white against a bronzed face. “You scared I’ll hurt you, Alexandra?”
She lifted her chin. “Maybe I’m worried I’ll hurt you, Lasair.”
His chuckle filled the damp morning. “Fair enough.” Turning, he strode toward a Ducati.
She gingerly stepped over a large mud puddle. “I thought you rode a Harley.”
“My bikes vary.” He swung a leg over the side and ignited the engine, holding out a helmet. “Pretty police detectives wear protective gear, baby.”
Her brain mattered to her, too. “What about you?”
“My head is way too hard. Trust me.” He waited, gaze patient, lips slightly curved.
Her breath heated, and she double-checked the weight at her ankle. Yep. Gun there and ready to be used if necessary. The cop inside her told her she was taking such a risk to make her case, while the woman inside laughed her ass off. This was all about attraction, sex, and intrigue.
She didn’t think he’d killed Duck. Her instincts as a cop, as a woman, whispered that truth. Her brain wondered if the attraction was messing with her judgment.