Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(75)

He flipped on the turn signal. She let out a silent sigh of relief. He drove aimlessly around, passing up several good parking spaces.

"Looking for a black SUV?" she asked.

He braked so sharply that she jerked forward against the seat belt. He parked the car without saying a word.

Connor rattled the broken lock on the front door of the building with a grunt of disgust "Someone should sue the landlord."

"He turns off your hot water if you give him any trouble," she said. "I've learned to leave him alone."

The elevator was still broken. She was grateful for his company as they ascended through the echoing stairwell. The decaying building was depressing at the best of times, but at this time of night, with her life the way it currently was, it would be unbearably creepy alone.

She dug the keys out of her purse. Connor took mem from her, pushed her gently back against the wall and pulled out his gun.

She sighed. Cops tended to be paranoid. She should know, having been raised by one. They had reason to be, and Connor more than most. She waited patiently while he unlocked the door, flipped on the light, stepped in. A moment later he gestured her in. "All clear."

"Thank goodness," she murmured.

His face hardened at the faint sarcasm in her voice, but she was too tired and wired to care. Let him be huffy if he pleased. She felt restless and tingling and strange tonight. She didn't feel like placating anyone.

Connor locked and bolted the door. "Erin," he said.

She slid her suit jacket off and flung it over a chair. "Yes?"

"I can't leave you here alone. I just can't do it."

She stretched her arms over her head, rolling her stiff neck. Connor's eyes wandered down and fastened on her breasts. She rolled her shoulders, arched her back. "You can't?" she said.

His eyes followed her every move with grim fascination. "No," he said. "Not after what I saw on the highway. Not with that worthless lock and piece of shit door. Not even if your locks were good."

She ran her fingers slowly through her hair, and tossed it. "Not even if I lived in a bank vault? Guarded by a platoon of Marines?"

"You're starting to get the picture."

She kicked her shoes off. One bounced off the wall and skittered to the middle of the floor, the other landed on top of a pile of archeology magazines. "So don't leave," she said.

His eyes narrowed. "I thought you hated my guts."

The uncertainty in his voice gave her an exhilarating rush of feminine power. He was vulnerable to her, too. She glanced at her watch, and unclasped it, tossing it on top of the dresser. "It's three in the morning, Connor," she said. "I'm too tired to hate your guts."

She went into the bathroom and let him puzzle over that while she washed her face and brushed her teeth.

When she came out, he was still rooted to the same spot, wary incredulity stamped all over his face. "You're sure?"

She laughed as she hooked her thumbs into her panty hose and shimmied them down. "Didn't you just tell me that I had absolutely no choice in the matter?" she complained. "I can't keep this straight anymore! Who is the boss around here, anyway?"

"Stop jerking me around," he said. "You know that if I stay here, we're going to have sex again."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my. Don't be shy, Connor. Tell it like it is." She stepped out of the skirt, clipped it to the hanger, and hung it in the tiny closet, stretching up so that the blouse would ride up over her bottom. "The bed really is incredibly small," she said. "If you'd rather go home and get a good night's sleep, please feel free to—"

"Don't tease me. I'm not in the mood."

The harshness of his tone froze her into place for a second. She exhaled, and resumed unbuttoning her blouse. She tried to act nonchalant as she shrugged off the blouse, hung it up.

"Your energy is strange tonight," he said. "I can't tell whether you want to jump my bones or rip my head off. It's got me off balance."

She reached behind herself and unhooked the bra. She tossed it away and shook her hair back. "If you're so off balance, Connor, maybe you'd be better off lying down."

He stared at her bare breasts, bright streaks of color in his cheeks. "You're pissed at me, and you're coming onto me at the same time. What's that all about, Erin? What's the catch?"

She smiled at him, merciless. "It's a mystery," she said. "You've got to take your chances." She shucked her panties and walked naked in the burning spotlight of his gaze to the bed. She slid between the sheets. Looked at him. Lifted a questioning eyebrow.

He shook his head. "I don't know what to do next," he said. "I can't figure you out."

"So why don't you stop trying, and get your clothes off?"

His shoulders jerked in silent laughter. He opened up his duffel, which she had not even noticed him bring in with him. He pulled out one of his squealers and mounted it swiftly onto the door.

He sauntered over to the bed. He stared at her as he placed his gun on the bedside table and started yanking off his clothes. Seconds later he stood before her naked, smoothing a condom over his jutting erection. She scooted over to make room for him.

He shook his head. "This thing is even narrower than a twin bed. Do you want to be on top, or on the bottom?"