Touch of Red (Tracers #12)(49)

Him. That’s what she wanted. She felt nervous and excited and even a bit terrified of what this might do to their relationship, but she wanted him. And when his dark silhouette appeared in the hallway, all the anxiety faded in comparison to how much she wanted him.

He’d gotten rid of his clothes except for black boxer briefs, and she admired his body again as he dropped a strip of condoms on the table and lowered himself over her.

He kissed her, brushing her hair away from her face. “You all right?”

“Yeah.”

He looked her in the eye. “You sure?”

“Yes. Find what you needed?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She kissed him to prove she was fine, and they picked up right where they’d left off before her flurry of doubts. She stroked her hands over his hard muscles, down the indention of his spine, over his hips. She dipped her fingers into the back of his waistband and pulled him close.

He rolled onto his side and slid his hand down her body and between her legs, and she felt a hot rush of desire. When he cupped his hand over her, she nearly shot off the couch.

“Sean—”

He kissed her, pressing against her as she squirmed and moaned. Then he shifted to sit up. With one smooth motion, he lifted her onto his lap and helped her straddle him, then started kissing her neck and her breasts.

His hands glided up her back as he held her close, and she tipped her head back as he kissed her and lavished more attention on her breasts than she’d ever thought possible. His fingers slid down between her legs, and she rolled her hips against him.

“Take these off.” She pushed at his shorts.

He did as she asked, and she wrapped her arms around him as she heard the tear of the condom wrapper. Then she lifted her hips. He reached between her legs to move the silk aside and guided her onto him, entering her body with a deep thrust that left her breathless.

“You okay?”

She moved her legs, trying to get comfortable.

“Brooke?” His voice was strained as she shifted her weight.

“Yes. Like that.”

He clasped her hips and moved her against him as he kissed her mouth. She arched into him, loving the friction where their bodies were joined. He pulled her even closer, and the rasp of his chest against her breasts nearly sent her over the edge.

“Sean.” She surged against him again and again, and the sensation of him filling her was so impossibly good that she felt her control slipping. “Sean.”

She clutched her arms around him as everything shattered. He held her through the aftershocks, then she slumped against his shoulder.

He brushed her hair back from her face and looked at her, smiling.

“Sorry. Couldn’t wait.”

“Good.” He kissed her. Then he lifted her off his lap, lowered her back onto the cushions, and finally pulled the last scrap of silk off her body before settling between her legs. She draped her arms over his shoulders and closed her eyes as she braced herself for the next part, and he pushed into her with one hard stroke.

Brooke wrapped her legs around him, and they moved together, finding a rhythm again. She’d thought she was done, but when she opened her eyes to look up at him, the raw male desire she saw in his face made her hot all over again, and a whole new tension started to burn and build inside her.

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back.

“Brooke, look at me.”

She did.

He took her hands and stretched them over her head and held her gaze as he drove into her over and over, until she thought she’d scream. Then she did scream, and he came into her with a powerful thrust and collapsed against her.

Silent seconds ticked by as she lay dizzy. He was heavy and crushing her, and she didn’t care at all as she traced her hands over his strong back. In all her life, she’d never felt like this. Ever. She couldn’t form a thought. Or utter a word.

Her mind was blown.

? ? ?

Callie ended her week the same way she’d started it. Working.

She jammed a stack of paperwork into her bag and headed out of the bull pen, giving a wave to the officer manning the phones tonight. He’d been leaving the station to go home when she’d arrived this morning.

Pathetic.

Callie trekked through the drizzle to her Jeep, pondering when, exactly, her life had gotten so out of whack. Not so long ago she’d had interests outside of work. Hobbies. A social life. But all of those things had more or less disappeared in the year since she’d earned her detective’s shield. Not that she wasn’t glad for the promotion—she’d busted her ass for it, and she loved her job. But sometimes she wished she had something in her life besides work. Such as a hot guy to keep her company on a cold and rainy night.

Ah, pipe dreams. She needed to focus on reality—such as what she planned to eat tonight, because she was going home with a growling stomach to an empty fridge. Delivery or carryout? She checked her watch. Delivery was her only option unless she wanted to swing by the grocery store.

What the hell. Nothing like a late-night trip through the produce section to lift her mood.

Callie got into her Jeep and tossed her stuff onto the passenger seat. She started up the engine as a faint chirp sounded from the depths of her bag. She dug out her phone and spotted Gabe’s number. Her nerves skittered.

Be careful what you wish for, she told herself as she swiped her thumb over the screen to read his text.