But now he had Emery, at least for a little while. Looking at her, standing there so vulnerable yet so strong, he noticed the hope that usually filled her eyes had been replaced with something else. Sympathy, maybe? He hated that.
Pity was wasted on him. The last thing he needed was for her to see him as one of the victims she worked with every day. He wasn’t her client. He wasn’t a case or a problem she needed to solve.
That’s why he held most of the story back. He’d walked right to the edge, ready to let it all come tumbling out for the first time in years, but stopped. Emery wasn’t part of Quint Associates, a dysfunctional brotherhood of like-minded men he knew and trusted. The few he could call on if he needed a favor or help on a case. Powerful men with drive and impressive resources. Men with fractured backgrounds, just like him. Some far worse than him.
Emery wasn’t like Garrett either or even a friend. Not really. But she did haunt him. The need to be inside her, taste her, pounded him. No way was he going to forfeit the chance now in exchange for hand-holding.
He walked her backward. With each step, their bodies rubbed together. Her breasts crushed against his chest as his hands slid down her ass. He nearly threw her over his shoulder at the thought of how she’d feel when he was inside of her.
Digging deep, he found a reservoir of control and tapped it, but the dance continued. Their legs tangled and his gaze stayed locked on hers. The urge to kiss her, to peel that T-shirt up and off her, nearly strangled him. But he waited. The taste would be so much sweeter if he drew this out, made every second tick by like an eternity.
Her back pressed against the wall and he leaned into her. His mouth hovered right over hers. “I spent all day thinking about fucking you.”
Her arms slipped around his neck. “Sounds like you were a naughty boy at work.”
“Good thing I own the place.” Right then he would have signed it all over to her in a bargain that ended with him ripping off her underwear.
A feverish need gripped him. The pros and cons of taking this step fell away. He didn’t care if it was smart or dangerous. He just wanted it to happen.
She shot him a sexy smile and his mouth crashed against hers. The kiss, hot and wild, burned through him. Blood roared in his ears and raced in his veins. She seduced him just by standing there. Those sweet curves. The slip of her tongue against his. The wet heat of her mouth.
His fingers slid under the band of her shirt. He opened his hands, loving the way his palms spanned her soft skin. The scent of her shampoo wound around him as the kiss pushed on. Not sweet and not lingering. No, this was demanding. All-consuming in the way she lured him in and made demands without saying a word.
His fingertips brushed against the edge of her bra. With two tugs, he had the clasp open. He cupped her breasts in his palms, gently massaging as he captured her gasp in his mouth. Still, the kiss raged. Hands, mouth and a drumming need building inside him.
He had to see her. All of her.
Pulling back, he gave her one last chance to break away. The silence to come to her senses. To grab control and walk away.
She unbuttoned his shirt.
Opening one then the next, those fingers undid each one until she reached his waist. “Levi?”
Jesus, the way she said the name he’d all but wiped from his memory. He had no idea how much he ached to hear it on her lips until he did. “Yes?”
She eased away from the wall, just enough to press her mouth against his ear. To lick her tongue around the outside rim then whisper, “It’s time to be a naughty boy.”
Her breath, that voice, pinged across his nerve endings. Need pummeled him now. Forcing his hands to stay steady, he lifted the thin fabric of her shirt. Up and over, stripping her, almost tearing it.
The light bathed her skin in a soft glow. He rubbed his palms over her shoulders. Skimmed across the tiny straps of the light blue bra balanced there. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Take it off.”
He flicked the straps to the sides, until they fell down and rested against her arms. The front gaped and he slipped a finger just inside the cup, tracing her nipple—back and forth. With each circle her breathing kicked up. Her chest rose as her fingers clenched against his biceps.
The need to get her naked hit him with a fierce urgency. Every muscle shook as he tried to throw on the brakes and make this moment last. With one push, the bra dropped down and she whipped it off, letting it fall to the floor somewhere behind them. Then she was on him. Her foot traveled up the back of his calf as she wrapped her body around his.