Touch of Red (Tracers #12)(52)
“Sean.” She scraped her fingers through his hair. “Sean, please. I need you up here.”
He moved up her body and lowered himself onto her, and she gasped at the hard pressure.
“Wait.” He grabbed a condom from the table and quickly pulled it on, then he was inside her again, moving against her, and everything felt so full and perfect she couldn’t stand it even a minute more.
She clutched him against her, sinking her teeth into his shoulder to keep from screaming this time, and he reared back and came into her with a fierce push that sent them both into oblivion at the same moment. Then once again she was shaking beneath him as she clung to his shoulders and gasped for air.
When she could breathe, she let her eyes drift open, and he was propped on his elbows, gazing down at her. She let her arms fall limply at her sides.
“Mmm . . . namaste.”
He kissed her. “Better than yoga?”
“Hmm. Much better. I’m so relaxed I don’t think I can move.”
“In that case, it’s probably easier if you stay tonight.”
She sighed. “You’re probably right.”
CHAPTER 16
Brooke awoke to an annoying buzz.
Sean’s phone.
The bed shifted as he got up, and she turned her face into the pillow, shutting out reality for just a few more minutes of sleep. . . .
“Brooke.”
The mattress sank, and she opened her eyes. She was in Sean’s bedroom, surrounded by deliciously cool sheets that smelled like him.
“Brooke, honey, wake up.”
She lifted her head. He was sitting on the edge of the bed in jeans. No shirt. Yellow light spilled in from the bathroom.
“What is it?” She sat up and pulled the sheet with her.
“I’ve got a callout. I need to run you home.”
She processed the words as she glanced around the room. Where the hell were her clothes?
He stood, fastening his jeans. Then he reached for a shirt draped over a chair in the corner.
She spied a pile of her clothes on the end of the bed. He must have brought them in here while she was dozing. She grabbed her sweatshirt and dragged it on. “What time is it?”
“Six fifteen. Can you be ready in five minutes? We have to hit it.”
“Yeah.” She stood up and winced.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
It was like a hangover, but different. She felt stiff and groggy, as though she’d slept for days, but it had only been a few hours. Her knees were bruised from tackling Cameron Spence to the ground, and the cut on her elbow burned.
She spent several minutes in the bathroom, trying unsuccessfully to avoid the mirror. She looked horrid, and she wished she had a ponytail holder to do something with her hair. She twisted it into a knot and returned to the bedroom to look for her boots. She found them in the living room, along with her socks.
Brooke sank onto the sofa to put them on as Sean stood by the fireplace, talking on his phone and watching her.
He ended the call as she stood and grabbed her purse. “Ready.”
Sean led her out to the driveway. The air was cool and damp, but the rain had stopped and the sky was beginning to lighten.
They rode in silence as Brooke’s brain clicked into gear. From Sean’s end of the conversation, it sounded like a homicide. Something near the lake. Brooke checked her phone. She hadn’t received anything yet, but the detectives often got the call first. Anyway, it might not involve the Delphi Center.
She stared out the window at the slick pavement that shimmered purple and pink as the sky brightened.
“Sorry to wake you.”
“No problem.”
She glanced at him. He looked remarkably alert for having been asleep ten minutes ago. Brooke had developed the same skill over the years, but this morning she felt off.
He turned onto her street, and her stomach twisted. Casual. No pressure. But what did that mean in the light of day? She’d spent the night naked in his arms, and she felt a wave of panic as she remembered everything they’d done together.
He swung into her driveway, and she had the door open before he came to a halt.
“Hang on.”
“You don’t need to—”
But he was out and coming around to her side before she could finish the sentence.
“Sean, I’m fine. Don’t make yourself late.”
He ignored her and walked her to the door. She saw his gaze skimming over her hedges, her windows, her porch. She unlocked the door and turned to face him.
He glanced over her shoulder into the house. “Everything look okay here?”
“Everything’s fine. Go.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m going to be tied up today.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll see you when I see you.”
? ? ?
Sean drove across the dam and hooked a right onto Ridge View. Two point three miles, according to Ric’s directions. Sean skimmed his gaze over the roadside, looking for anything unusual leading up to the crime scene. He didn’t see anything, but the shadows this time of morning played tricks.
Would Brooke and her crew show up here? Sean didn’t know. With it being a homicide, there was a fair chance Delphi would ultimately get involved.
He thought about the way she’d looked standing on her porch a few minutes ago. Last night had been a breakthrough. And not just the sex, all of it. He pictured her on his sofa in the dimness. He’d done everything he knew to get her to relax with him and let her guard down, and it had worked. Mostly.