Exposed (35 page)

“Stay here, okay? Don’t move.”

He jumped up and disappeared down the hallway, and of course, she did move. She switched off the lamp, which was just a tad too bright. Then she hurried to turn on the closet light. She left the door ajar, which created a nice glow in the room but kept her from feeling so self-conscious.

“Hey.”

She hurried back to the bed as he stepped into the room again. He watched her, gaze narrowed, as he deposited his gun on the dresser. Then he moved closer to the bed and put a strip of condoms on the nightstand.

Okay. So either he’d planned for this, or he just happened to carry that many around with him. Both prospects made her uncomfortable, so she put the thought out of her mind and shifted her attention to the simmering look in his eyes. She got onto her knees and slid her arms around his neck.

She still couldn’t really believe he was here, in her bedroom, after she’d spent so much time convincing herself this was a bad idea. It was hard to think that way now, as he slid his hands up her sides and kissed her with so much skill it made her heart race. His taste was addictive. And his smell. And every single thing he was doing to her felt so good. She realized, with a rush of excitement, that as incredible as it had been last time, there had been a veil of alcohol over it all. She ran her hands over his chest, and everything felt infinitely more intense—the coarseness of his hair under her palms, the warm slide of his hands down the back of her thighs, the sharp male taste of his tongue against hers. Everything he was doing thrilled her, and she tried to focus on that instead of the repercussions she was going to have to face in the morning.

I know it’s complicated, but I like you
.

He was going to go there again, and her heart made a little lurch as she thought about what she’d say, because her drunken-lapse-in-judgment excuse wasn’t going to work again.

But then he was easing her back on the bed, and she forgot about everything. He still wore his jeans, and she got the sense that he was enjoying the unfairness of it as she clutched his thigh between hers and moved restlessly.

His eyes glinted down at her. He leaned forward and kissed her, right beneath her ear, and she wondered when exactly he’d figured out that was her sensitive spot. His mouth glided down her neck, down her body, stopping to linger around her belly button. She propped herself up on her elbows and gazed down at
him in the dimness, and her pulse quickened at the look of pure male admiration on his face. He slid his hands over her thighs, and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. And when he had her squirming and moaning and gripping the sheet in her fists, he kissed his way back up her body and hovered over her.

“You are so hot,” he said thickly.

She pulled him down for a kiss and reached for the snap of his jeans. Finally, he got rid of them, and this time, when he sank down on her, she felt the electrifying friction of skin against skin. She was beyond talking. Beyond waiting. She wanted him now, but he seemed to be enjoying drawing it out. She combed her fingers into his hair and kissed him. And then their limbs were tangled together, and they were in some kind of intense race to the finish. He reared back, and she stared up at him, breathless and dizzy. She heard the tear of a condom wrapper, felt him moving around in the dark. Then he shifted her beneath him and roughly pushed inside her. She cried out, clutching him, but he seemed to know it was a good cry, because he kept going, setting a fierce pace. She clung to him, gripping him with every ounce of strength she had. She kissed him frantically, loving the hardness of his body and the dampness of his skin and the raw, relentless force of him. She felt filled to bursting with need and emotion. They were as close together as two people could possibly be, and the utter perfection of being
joined
with him was mind-blowing.

“Maddie.” His voice was hoarse, and she clutched him tighter. “Baby—”

“Yes.”

Everything fused in a white-hot burst of light, and
then her body seemed to shatter into a million shimmering pieces as he gave a last powerful push.

He collapsed on top of her. She lay there, boneless. Little waves of pleasure rippled through her as the brilliant starburst faded to black. Seconds ticked by. Minutes.

When she opened her eyes again, she was staring at his neck. On impulse, she sank her teeth into it.

“Ouch.”
He pushed himself up on his palms. “What was that?”

She smiled up at him. “You taste salty.”

He muttered something and flopped onto his back.

“What?” She propped herself up on an elbow and gazed down at him.

“Shit.” He let his arm fall over his face.

She smiled. Then she rolled onto her back and nestled her head against him. “Well, that’s romantic.”

Silence settled over them. She’d used the
R
word. Even in her hazy, blissful state, she realized it was a bad choice. She waited to see if he’d say anything.

But he didn’t say a word. He lay beside her, stroking her shoulder and staring up at the ceiling, and the steady thud of his heart against her ear was the only sound. She glided her hand over his chest and felt the texture of his hair under fingertips. His skin was still warm and damp from all the exertion. Hers, too, and it felt amazingly satisfying. She’d forgotten.

A few more minutes floated by. She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were closed. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and confirmed that they were done arguing for the night.

Emma was in a greenhouse, surrounded by butterflies. Her pigtails were tied with yellow bows, and she wore her favorite overalls with the T. rex on the pocket. Orange-and-black monarchs flitted in and out of the sunbeams and alighted on her outstretched arms.

Mommy, look!

Pretty, sweetie. Look at all your butterflies
.

Emma smiled up at her, and Maddie’s heart convulsed.

They tickle!

That means they like you. Look, here’s another one!

Maddie stepped closer, yearning to scoop her up, to gather her in her arms and shower her face with kisses. But she knew if she moved to touch her, everything would vanish. She settled for smiling.

I miss you, sweetie. I miss you so much
.

But Emma didn’t hear. She was entranced by the butterflies. She lifted a pudgy arm as yet another one landed on her skin.

Maddie drank in the sight of her—her springy curls, her dark lashes, her perfect little upturned nose.
One of her bows was crooked, and she reached out to straighten it. Her fingertips brushed over the curls—just an instant, but it was enough.

No
.

Maddie snatched her hand back, but it was too late, she knew it.
No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, but it was no use.

A heartbeat later, Emma was gone.

A faint buzzing noise pulled Maddie from sleep. Her head felt heavy, swollen, and she sensed the headache even before she opened her eyes.

Another buzz.

Brian’s phone, she realized. She glanced down at his arm slung over her waist. She felt the warmth of his thighs pressed against her bottom as she glanced over her shoulder to confirm that he was still out cold. Immensely relieved, she lifted his arm and slowly eased from the bed. She grabbed her robe from the floor and, still watching him, wrapped it around her shoulders.

She squinted at the meager sunlight that filtered through the shade in the bathroom as she brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face. She shuffled into the kitchen and spied the overnight bag on the floor. The phone was silent now, but she doubted it would remain that way for long.

Maddie reached for the coffee pot, embracing a few more moments of distraction before reality rolled in like a thunderhead. She counted out coffee scoops, doubling her usual amount because she had company,
not to mention a punishing headache. She turned on the faucet and filled the carafe.

Another muffled buzz.

She sighed with resignation and flipped on the coffee maker.

“ ’Morning.”

She turned around. “Good morning.”

Brian leaned a shoulder against the door frame and crossed his arms over his bare chest. His gaze settled on her.

“You’re popular today,” she said.

With a quick glance, she took in his jeans and bare feet. He looked solid and sleepy and not nearly as rested as she would have expected, given the way he’d crashed so hard in her bed.

He was watching her intently, and she started to worry. Maybe he
hadn’t
crashed hard. Maybe he was a light sleeper and knew exactly what a tumultuous night she’d had.

The buzzing started up again. He crouched down beside his bag, and she tried not to admire the ripple of muscles in his arms and shoulders as he rummaged for his phone. He checked the screen and stood up.

“I have to take this,” he said gruffly.

“Sure.”

He disappeared into the back of the house, and the coffeemaker beeped at her. She took down a pair of mugs and filled them. She held the cup in her hands as she let the rich aroma perk up her senses, and she considered the best way to handle things.

When he came back in, he was wearing the gray T-shirt he’d had on when she first went to bed last
night. He crossed the kitchen and reached over her to open a cabinet.

“I poured you coffee.”

“I need water.” He set a glass on the counter and paused to look at her. She saw something in his eyes again. Worry? Wariness? Before she could pin it down, he surprised her by cupping his hand against the side of her face and planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

The gesture was so tender, so intimate, she was taken aback.

His hand dropped away, and he reached for the faucet. “How’s your arm today?”

“Fine.”

But she could tell he didn’t believe her, as he leaned back against the sink and swilled water.

“A little sore,” she admitted.

He drained the glass and set it down. He glanced at her robe but didn’t look at all put off by it as his gaze zeroed in on her bandage.

“I’ve got to go in this morning.” He crossed the kitchen and pulled a pizza box from the fridge. “Want some of this?”

“No, thanks.”

So far, this was all pretty normal. Maybe it was going to go better than she’d thought. Maybe they could focus on logistics and sidestep the relationship discussion she’d been dreading for days.

“I have to go in this morning, too,” she said.

He shot her a disapproving look as he picked up a slice and folded it in half. “It’s Sunday.”

“You’re working Sunday,” she pointed out.

He chomped into the pizza, frowning at her as he chewed.

“I’m meeting Ben,” she added, hoping to quell his disapproval.

But the worry line between his brows deepened. He finished off the slice in a few more bites and dusted off his hands.

“You’re working on the case,” he stated.

“It’s the facial-recognition software I told you about. We may have a new lead.”

He shook his head and looked away.

“What?”

“It ever occur to you to let law enforcement take care of things?”

She crossed her arms. “Letting the police ‘take care of things’ hasn’t worked out that well for me in the past.”

“You’re becoming obsessed.”

“No, I’m not.”

“This isn’t about Emma.”

The words were like a slap. She stared at him. People didn’t talk about Emma. Most people wouldn’t even say her name in Maddie’s presence.

She cleared her throat. “I’m aware of that, obviously. I care about all of my cases. If I can do something to help Jolene Murphy, I will. If I can do something to help anyone.”

His jaw tightened. He had something he wanted to get off his chest, and she instinctively knew she didn’t want to hear it.

“I may be gone tonight, too,” he said.