His sexy smile wasn’t helping her hate him.
On a gritty groan, he said, “I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast.”
“Yessss,” she ground out.
He moved inside her at a maddening pace, her insides humming with euphoria that spread over her like melted butter.
Another orgasm, and she cried out through this one while he moaned, “Fuck, coming.”
She was shattered, drained, yet more alive than she’d felt in years.
The more they fucked, the more addicted she became. He’d been her naughty addiction all those years ago, and he still was. She could pull another all-nighter with him. No problem.
They came together in another panty-searing kiss. When they finally broke away, they were breathless.
His beautiful chest rose and fell, glistening in sweat. She slid her fingers over his biceps, then she dropped her hands by her side. They were partners, not lovers. This wasn’t the tender afterglow. This was work.
Plain and simple.
Her job there was done. She could report back to Providence and let them move in to make an arrest. The club would get shut down. Karen and the owner charged with running a prostitution syndicate.
Would Carrera work the missing persons case with her? He had his own caseload, so she’d go it alone. An overwhelming sadness slithered into her soul. She was used to being alone.
This is crazy.
I hate him. Let him go and move on.
But if shedidn’ttell Providence, and they had to return again and again, until they learned whoownedthe club, she’d have more information to provide when it was time to make an arrest.
That’s a better plan.
Truth was, she liked hooking up with Carrera at the club. It gave her a legit excuse to see him. Screwing him was an added perk. She couldn’t trust her heart to him. He would only break it again. She’d barely survived their first break up. No way would she get over another.
Carrera Santini had wrecked her for any other man.
She felt eyes on her and looked over. The bearded man—the one who’d been talking with Deb—sat alone on the sofa, watching them.
A chill streaked down her spine.
Carrera
Like yesterday,Carrera’s mind was blown. He needed to move Slash out of the club and into a more intimate setting. He had no off-switch around her, had no intention of slowing down. But she wasn’t a booty call. He needed to take this—whatever this was—to the next level.
While cleaning himself off, he spotted the guy on the sofa watching them. Even in the glow of red lights, Carrera couldn’t miss it. The man was locked on them.
Carrera glanced around. New people had arrived, others had left. The aroma of sex hung thick in the air. Since they’d gotten there, the smack of a whip or the cries of ecstasy had caught his ear, but his attention had stayed on Slash.
That was the easy part.
The challenge? How did she want to work this case?
“Hey,” she whispered after slipping into her dress. “You see the bearded, masked guy?”
“Yeah.”
“How long has he been watching us?”
“No idea. I was focused on you.”
