Page 73 of Shark’s Pride

I punched the button that set the metal door rolling upward. Its loud clanging provided the perfect excuse to consider our conversation over.

During my drive up the 110, my phone dinged. The sound was unique for texts from Rio. It would have to wait until I parked downtown. I did, however, crave a check-in with Sebastian. I was raw right now, and he was the only balm that would help.

Through the van’s Bluetooth interface, I used the voice command to connect me directly to Bas’s desk. Anytime I could bypass talking to Terryn, who seemed stranger by the day, I did. The phone rang four times. If it went to five, I’d just tell the system to disconnect the call. I hated interrupting him when he was busy—but when wasn’t he?

“Shark.”

His deep and determined voice echoed through every corner of the van.

“Hey.” I breathed it more than spoke it, which made me pull the car off to the shoulder and take a few deep inhales. Seriously? Could I have sounded any more wanton? “Uhhh…hey. It’s me.”

“Little Red.” His smile drenched his husky voice, relieving some of my awkwardness. But only some. “I was just thinking about you.”

He dropped his words into a purely seductive range too, ensuring he wouldn’t be taking care of my lust so easily. Not that I was complaining. Not by a single syllable.

“Oh yeah? Well, tell me more, Mr. Shark. Was I naked in your thoughts?”

Holy. Shit.

Where on earth had that all come from? I couldn’t believe it had been my own brain. Not just the thoughts but the bravery in voicing them. This was so new. And exhilarating…

“Of course you were.” Oh, definitely exhilarating. The way his voice dipped into a timbre usually reserved for the bedroom was my beautiful confirmation. “And just an FYI, imaginary you is banned from wearing clothes. Ever. Except for knee socks. Those are always allowed.”

“Knee socks?” I repeated. “That’s a new development.”

“Not inside my mind.”

“Interesting.” The line went quiet for a few seconds except for our heavier breathing—corresponding, I assumed, to our mutual thoughts of knee socks. Me, wondering where I could pick up a pair or two to surprise him. I hoped his had to do with envisioning me in them—as he spread my legs wide and prepared to roughly screw me.

The rougher the better…

“Abbigail?” His voice was gritty and strained.

“Yeah?” Mine was breathless and lusty.

“What can I do for you, girl? You called for a particular reason, I assume—beyond giving me an erection in the middle of the day?”

With a little laugh, I pressed the button to lower the driver’s-side window. The freeway was noisy, but I needed the fresh air to help me refocus.

“Well, I had to leave just as you were coming to bed, and I figured the last thing you’d want to do was give me the play-by-play.” I groaned. “It’s already been a long and crazy morning…” I tugged at my lip with my teeth again, deliberating about dumping on him about the tension with Rio. “I can’t believe it’s not noon yet,” I stated instead. “And I guess I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You know I’ll never turn down hearing yours,” he answered in that same low, intimate tone. “No matter how painful it makes my pants.”

He’d turned me to mindless mush with that romance book narrator voice, so all I came up with as a response was “So…what’s going on with the hunt for Tawny? Any leads from Elijah or the cops?” I gulped hard, switching out some of my desire for some old-fashioned dread. “And what’s going on with whatever was in the pool?”

“I have details,” he disclosed, though he changed out his own tone for something between careful and guarded. “But I’d rather tell you everything tonight at home.”

“Good idea,” I returned. “Because lunch delivery has to be a flyby today.”

“Why?” There was a rustling sound, denoting he’d surged up from his chair. “Is it that last-minute job Rio called about? Will you be really late?”

“Nope. I’ll probably beat you home, if I hit decent traffic,” I explained. “After the downtown deliveries, I’m dropping hors d’oeuvres trays for an anniversary party in Thousand Oaks. Rather than backtrack to the kitchen in Inglewood, I’m just taking the van home overnight.”

“Outstanding,” Bas stated. “Makes much more sense rather than sitting in traffic all night.”

“That’s what I thought too—although the logistics switch put Rio hot on my trail about my current living arrangements.”

“Hot on your trail…how?” he asked with a bit of growl.