Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)(52)

Polly pressed her forehead against the wall, chewing her bottom lip to trap the moan of his name dying to break free. “Is that why?” she managed instead.

“Yes. Although I suspect there will be a different reason each time.” He transferred the massage to the opposite side. “Your ass is already so tight. I can’t even contemplate what a few more weeks of f*cking each other will do to it. You’ll be illegal, Polly.”

“You’re pretty confident…in how the next few weeks will be spent.”

“I can’t imagine why that would be, sweet. I’m only massaging your bottom in a public hallway.” His mouth traced down her neck, before it opened and…French-kissed the space below her ear. There was no other description for the passionate movement of his lips and tongue. He may as well have been performing the kiss between her legs because—holy God—wetness rushed and gathered with such swiftness, she couldn’t find the wherewithal to draw breath. “When you opened the door,” he murmured, his hand still working the flesh of her backside, “were you thinking of sucking my cock?”

“Yes,” Polly gasped. “And you knew it. Happy?”

“Quite,” he growled. His touch moved, wedging between her stomach and the wall, before dipping lower to capture the juncture of her thighs in a firm hold. “Any time you want it, all you have to do is bat your eyes at me. I’m a slave to you and this *. I don’t know how to make it any clearer…” He shoved his mouth against her ear in an unexpected move that made her gasp. “Mistress.”

His mouth, his hands, his voice. They all deserted her at the same time, sending her pitching toward the wall. Another purposeful maneuver, she was sure. Before and after Austin. With and without Austin. If he’d wanted to remind her what their chemistry had been like in the dark and what it would be like to live without it now, he’d made his point. Now that he wasn’t touching her, however, she continued to rewind to his promise of…holding. And she couldn’t help but suspect that the sexual trappings that came after had been his way of disguising the importance of that promise. To avoid freaking her out?

Or himself?

“Go on in ahead of me,” Austin said, giving her hip a nudge toward the door. “I can’t walk in there just yet or I might poke someone’s eye out.”

Polly turned to find Austin bent forward, hands on his knees, performing what looked to be breathing exercises. A smile curved the corners of her mouth. “You need something gross to think about?”

“I can’t think of anything but you, Polly.”

Despite the immediate schooling of his features, Polly’s toes curled in her shoes. “Oh. Um.” She laid her hand on the doorknob. “Once when I was in police custody, I found a Band-Aid in my oatmeal. Does that help?”

“Thinking of you in police custody?” He straightened, but kept his eyes closed. “Yes, I believe that just might do the trick.”

“I’ll see you inside.” She opened the door quickly and stepped into the apartment, before he could see the scarlet blazing up her neck. How could such blunt statements have the effect that romantic poetry or a dozen long-stemmed roses might?

Polly busied herself making coffee for everyone while they waited for Austin to rejoin them. For once, she was grateful that Bowen and Sera were too absorbed in each other to give two craps about what was going on around them. Bowen was content to turn the wedding ring on Sera’s finger again and again, saying things into his wife’s ear that gave her a blush almost rivaling Polly’s. After two minutes, Austin rejoined them, his confidence causing a palpable difference in the atmosphere. He sent Polly a wink before focusing on the couple seated at her functional, Ikea-bought dining table.

“Right, then.” Austin clapped his hands together once. “Driscol. You’re wondering why you’re here.”

Bowen’s leg bounced in a restless gesture. “You think?”

“Constantly.” Austin hesitated, a rarity for him. “You’re here because you’re the closest thing to a con on the squad. Apart from me, obviously, but I have to work behind the scenes on this one. So. Sloppy seconds it is.”

“Man.” Bowen dropped a fist onto the table. “Just when I think I can’t hate you any more, you up your game.”

It had always been a source of amusement for Polly, how much everyone disliked Austin. She’d been one of them—maybe she still was and her better judgment had been buried under a landslide of lust. But right about now, she didn’t think everyone’s open animosity toward Austin was so funny. In fact, it put her back in the meeting room when Erin pointed the gun at him. If anyone pointed a gun at him or implied he was a shithead, it would be her, thank you very much. Furthermore, he was defending his daughter here, although she doubted he’d be imparting that bit of information anytime soon.

Before Austin could respond to Bowen’s barb, Polly moved to stand at his side. “Just hear him out, okay?” She ignored the surprise Austin turned on her. She was too busy fielding her own. “You think he would ask for help if he didn’t really need it?”

“No,” Sera answered. “He looks like he’s swallowing nails.”

“Look.” Bowen plowed a hand through his dark blond hair. “Ask for any favor you want. But unless I missed Captain Tyler on the way in, he’s not the one issuing this assignment. Which means it’s f*cking shady. And any time there’s a chance for Sera to be in danger, the answer is no.”