He rose, closed the distance between them, towered over her. She wished now she hadn’t taken off the shoes. “She’s not gonna trust you any more after you do it than she does right now.”
“Maybe—”
“You don’t get it, Max.”
“Get what?” She sounded squeaky with him that close.
“If she was really a hooker and if the big guy was really her pimp, they wouldn’t be letting you hang around. They’d think you were a cop. They’d be outta there like that.” He snapped his fingers next to her ear.
“I told them I was a writer.”
He cut that idea off with a chop of his hand. “They’re playing with you. The question is why.”
“That’s what I have to find out.”
Seemingly impossible, he closed in on her. His aftershave fogged her brain, and the heat of his body weakened her knees. She thought of power, control and need, and she wanted him. Her fingers itched to touch. Her lips ached to taste. Everywhere. Jesus, the white zin had gone to her head. Or maybe it was Angela’s little pep talk about power.
Or maybe it was that near orgasm this morning. It whet her appetite for more.
Like last night when she’d had him beneath her, right where she’d wanted him. And he couldn’t resist.
She smelled it on him. His power over her. Hers over him. If she touched him, he’d explode like dynamite. He was on the edge. They both were. All she had to do was strike a match, put her hand on his chest, her lips to his throat, one tiny little come-on, and she could get him to do anything for her. It was only a matter of time.
“She’s setting you up, Max,” he whispered straight into the middle of her thoughts. A little zing shot to her center as if the words were hot and sexy. “You want a conspiracy theory? Here it is.” He put his hand under her chin to tilt her head back as far as it would go. His eyes were hot blue flames, his body rigid against hers. “Bud Traynor got your Angela to kill Lance, and now they’re going to try to make you take the fall for it.”
Max gaped. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Well, not the most ridiculous thing.
He flattened his hand around her throat. “Did you think about it?”
“Huh?” She knew her face reflected a dumfounded look.
“The orgasm I promised you.” He stroked the side of her neck with his fingers.
Dammit, how did he change to hot and bothered in less than a second? Men were like that. They got angry, said what they needed to say, then got over it with a snap of their fingers. Things didn’t fester for them.
Witt flexed against her, hard in the pants and blazing in his touch. Okay, some things did fester, like an orgasm they’d thought about all day. Max shivered beneath the soft caress at her throat. “No, I didn’t think about any orgasms. I forgot the whole thing after you left.”
The side of his mouth quirked. “Liar.”
She shifted from one foot to the other, her nipples giving his chest a tantalizing brush. “Actually, I finished myself off rather than bothering to wait around for you to do it.”
He leaned down, breathed her in, first one side of her throat, then the other, like an animal scenting prey. “Nope. You waited. And now you’re so damn hot, you’d come with one thrust.”
That was really going too far. He was obsessed, she wasn’t. She was in control, not him. “I’m not having sex with you tonight.”
He lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Compared to him, it was almost true. “Wrap your legs around me.”
“No.”
Leaning her against the door, one big hand holding her butt, he pulled her thigh to his waist. “Jesus, you’re not wearing panties.”
“I was playing a role.”
Switching hands, he did the same with her other leg. “You make me crazy.”
He did the same to her. She locked her feet behind him. No panties, just the thigh-highs. She was combustible.
“I’m not liking this.” She put her head to his shoulder so he wouldn’t see her bite her lip to hold back the moan.
“That’s because you love it. Reach into my back pocket.”
“What for?”
“The condom.”
“Do you always carry condoms? What if you whipped your badge out of your pocket and the condom fell out with it?”
He laughed, a great rumble against her chest, the sensation shuddering up her arms, to her toes, and straight to her clitoris. “Sure don’t keep my badge in my back pocket with the condoms. And yeah, since I was planning all day to break into your house and drill the hell out of you, made sure I had the requisite devices. Now get it out.”
“God, you’re impatient.”
He hefted her higher, his slacks grazing her, sending ripples of pleasure out from the sensitive spot. “Can you reach it?”