At that moment Quasar stuck his head in the door. “I’m about to leave to—”
When he saw Roland, Quasar frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“Visiting.”
“Well, visit somewhere else. Shouldn’t you be home recuperating?” Quasar asked him.
“I am home.”
Quasar’s frown deepened. “You know what I mean. You’re supposed to be at Sutton Hills, where Hannah can keep an eye on you.” Hannah was the Grangers’ housekeeper and cook.
Roland laughed. “Hannah wants to fatten me up. She’s always cooking. A man can get spoiled.”
“Then go back and let her spoil you. We got things here,” Quasar said.
“I can see that. So where are you headed?”
Quasar came into the room and shoved his hands into his pockets. “To deliver breakfast to Striker and Ms. Connelly.”
Roland checked his watch. “Kind of late for breakfast, isn’t it?”
Quasar tried keeping a straight face as he shrugged and lied through his teeth. “I was running late. They understood and said they weren’t all that hungry.” He decided not to glance over at Stonewall, who’d probably figured out why he’d fibbed.
Roland stood. “I’ll follow you over there.”
“Over where?”
“To take Striker and Margo their breakfast.”
Now Quasar did give Stonewall a look that clearly said, I don’t think that’s a good idea. He knew Stonewall understood when Stonewall said to Roland, “You don’t need to follow anyone anywhere. I think you should go back to Sutton Hills and get some rest.”
“I told you I’m fine, Stonewall, so don’t treat me like some damn invalid. The doctor said I can drive and I’m driving.”
Knowing there was no way they could talk Roland out of following him to Ms. Connelly’s house without making Roland suspicious, Quasar said, “Fine. I’m ready to go.”
To Stonewall he said, “Call Striker and let him know breakfast is about to be delivered.”
Stonewall nodded. “Trust me, I will.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MARGO OBVIOUSLY HAD guessed wrong about her bedroom being bugged. It was probably a good thing considering that flirty invitation she’d issued. When had she ever been bold when it came to a man? Never. And what about her resolve to keep things casual with men? But this wasn’t getting serious. It was about having a little fun, and right now she felt the need to let loose a little, especially after such a passionate night with Striker.
As she opened the shower door and stepped inside the stall, vivid scenes of them making love last night began playing in her head. She regretted that the shower would wash away his scent—a scent that seemed to be entrenched in her skin.
She closed her eyes as memories continued to trickle through her mind the same way the spray of warm water was trickling over her body. She could clearly recall Striker on his knees with his head buried between her legs. And then there was the first time he’d eased himself inside of her. And he’d gone deep.
Margo was convinced it had been deeper than any man had ever gone. Had a year without sex done this to her? Brought her to this state? Made her a ball of wanton desire? No, it didn’t have anything to do with abstinence but everything to do with Striker. The man was all alpha, all male and blatantly sexy.
She could tell from his attitude this morning that he’d expected her to have some regrets about last night and maybe she should. But she would have to be totally honest and admit she didn’t. She had wanted him and he had wanted her. The big question now was what would happen next.
Striker didn’t come across as someone who made irrational decisions, but she had a feeling he could overthink a situation. Although he had shared some things about himself, she knew there was a part of him that he was keeping off-limits. She didn’t want to continue to pry, but there was so much about him that she wanted to know.
She decided not to dwell on what she still didn’t know about Striker and concentrate on all those things she did. First up was just what an expert lover he was. The man had given her an orgasm not once but numerous times, and he’d moved inside of her in a way that made her want their bodies to stay connected forever.
Forever?
What kind of crazy thought was that? All she knew was that for a while last night, she had refused to remember Striker’s purpose in her life and that a murderer was still out there somewhere. She had needed that time with him for some reason.
She jerked around and gasped when she heard the shower door open. There Striker stood. Completely naked. Totally aroused. “I accept your invitation, Margo,” he said in a deep, husky voice.
She wiped water from her face to make sure she was actually seeing him. That he was really there. “So you’ve been spying on me?” she asked incredulously, finding it hard to ignite much anger when a totally masculine and very aroused naked man was sharing the shower stall with her.
“Not spying but protecting. I couldn’t go to sleep at night if I didn’t. I need to make sure you’re safe at all times.”
The thought that he’d been privy to her every sound and movement gave her pause, but it didn’t keep her gaze from roaming all over him. All those firm muscles, perfect abs, broad, muscular shoulders, flat and hard stomach. And then there was that monstrosity of an erection between his legs. Large and jutting proudly from a dark thatch of curls. It was already sheathed, making it quite obvious Striker had come prepared to protect her in another way.
Even with the condom covering his shaft, she could see the thick veins running along the sides of it. And she could vividly recall all that solid thickness stretching her last night. Thrusting in and out while embedded deep within her.
“Ready to shower?”
His words made her swallow. She had a feeling that they would be doing more than showering. “Yes.”
“Then pass me the soap. I want to lather you.”
He wanted to lather her? It was bad enough whenever their hands touched. The thought of those same hands moving all over her body—like they’d done last night—had heat settling between her legs.
“Margo?”
“Um?”
“The soap.”
For a minute there she’d gotten lost in his heated gaze. Her eyes left his face to once again travel lower. The man was so well-endowed that her senses were beginning to unravel. They had gotten unstitched last night and she hadn’t recovered. Now she doubted that she ever could.
Reaching behind her, she grabbed the bar of soap and handed it to him. Their hands touched and her body began shuddering. And that was when he made his move. He wrapped his arms around her as water streamed down on both of them.
“You’re trembling, Margo,” he whispered hotly against her ear, before licking it on the side.
That wasn’t all she was doing, she thought. The man could touch her and she would go up in flames...even while standing under water. Then she felt his hands all over her, felt the soapy caresses move over her back, her buttocks and shoulders while blood pounded furiously through her body.
Then he took a step back to start on her front, first by spreading a warm lather over her chest. The moment his hands began stroking her breasts, using his fingertips to tease her nipples, she moaned. She was finding out that Striker knew how to take the word steamy to a whole new level. He had the ability to stir a sexual need inside of her she hadn’t known existed until now.
When his hand moved lower and began lathering her stomach, an intense ache began curling between her legs. She felt her heart kick up several beats and found it almost hard to breathe. Had anyone told her lust could fuel desire to this extreme, she would not have believed them.