The Feel Good Factor(47)

“Put some clothes on first, will ya?”

“Yes, that’s it. I’m going to interrogate suspects in my birthday suit.”

“I like your birthday suit.”

She narrows her eyes. “Want me to interrogate you, then?”

I let my eyes stray downward to my crotch. “You can interrogate me with your sexy mouth, officer.”

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Trouble. I will do that soon enough.”

I gaze up at the ceiling and press my palms together. “Thank you, Lord.”

Rolling her eyes, she nudges my waist with her elbow. “There’s no rush on the investigation. I’ll deal with it tomorrow and discuss it with the chief when I see him.”

I tap her forehead. “Also, since you mentioned my magnificent dick, can we talk about this magnificent brain? The way you put that together right now in the middle of a conversation about cops and robbers was damn impressive, kitten.”

She mimics me from earlier, blowing on her fingernails.

“I mean it. Watching you crack the case was hot. Though that might be because you’re naked in my bed, with that just-been-fucked look. Incidentally, you wear the just-been-fucked look quite well.”

“Do I?” Her voice dips into sexy, smoky territory.

In response, my dick heads to the land of the upright. “You wear it spectacularly well.” I trail my hand down her side, groaning appreciatively at the intoxicating feel of her soft flesh. “Hey, Perri?”

“Yes?” Her voice is vulnerable.

We’re side by side, and she looks at me as I run a hand along her hair. “You’re beautiful.”

She smiles shyly, and I’ve never seen her look like that, but it suits her. That hint of sweetness, that touch of demure. “So are you.”

In that moment, with the moonlight slicing through the windows, with the night wrapping around us, something shifts. We’ve stripped off the teasing; we’ve removed the barbs and the jabs. And we’ve given in to the physical.

But this second goes further. It feels emotional. It feels possible, like we could be more than two housemates who are hot for each other.

Trouble is, I don’t know how we stay on this level. I don’t know if she wants to.

With my gaze locked on hers, I swallow then ask an open-ended question. “So where do we go from here?”

She throws it right back at me. “Where do you want to go?”

And maybe this is the snuggling question all over again. Maybe it’s best if we focus tonight on the horizontal.

“I feel like you’re not out of my system.” The words don’t quite come out like seduction. They come out like the truth. They have a double meaning, although I suspect the bedroom definition is easier for both of us.

“I feel like you’re not out of my system either.” She punctuates her words with a soft, barely-there kiss. A kiss that seems to reveal that maybe we’re on the same page.

But pages like this are hard to stay on when you’re not entirely sure.

They’re hard to stay on, too, when you’re hard.

She wraps a leg over my hip.

I yank her body against mine, bringing her closer. “So, should we try to get out of each other’s systems a few more times?”

Her eyes are flirty, giving me the answer I need for now. “I think that’s a really great idea. You do make me feel pretty damn good.”

“I can make you feel good again, kitten.”

“Is that so?”

“I can definitely give you more of the feel-good factor.”

Her eyes sparkle. “I’ll take it. Why don’t we work on feeling good till the kissing contest?”

I smile. “It’s a deadline.”

“It’s a deadline,” she repeats.

A deadline and a deal.

I roll her to her back, put on a condom, and do everything I can to get us out of our systems.





26





Perri





Jansen points at me, shaking a finger in admiration. “You’re brilliant.”

I beam as we talk in his office the next day. “That sounds possible, doesn’t it? An inside job?” Excitement blasts through me as I review the details I didn’t share with Derek last night.

From his spot behind the desk, Jansen lifts his coffee cup, nodding as he drinks. “Sounds not only possible, but likely.”

I tap the desk. “And insurance money has to be the motive.”

“I agree with you there. I’ll review it later, but good work on this, Keating.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I leave his office, walking on sunshine and hope.

For the rest of the day, I have to force myself to stop smiling. To wear my serious cop face as I finish my patrol work. But inside, I swear I can taste the promotion. I’m reaching for it. I feel it in my grasp.

When I leave the station that evening, I’m the one bopping down the steps, and it’s not because of a viral video or a dance move. It’s because I might have proven I’m the best man and the best woman for the job.

I don’t feel an ounce of guilt for going after the promotion and trying my hardest to nab it. I flash back to Derek’s advice from the other night. He was right. He kept me focused. He kept me from spiraling into a worry that’s far too common for women. And I’m damn grateful because I love my job and I love this town.