hand drifted up my leg, across my ass, and then upward to trace my spine. He hesitated and then his fingers drifted over the neatly healed scar on my shoulder. I turned my face to look at him as he laid down beside me. His gentle exploration stirred something inside me that I wasn’t really prepared to deal with.
“I was a cop.”
“I know.” He touched the scar again. “I looked you up on the Internet when I got home last night.”
“I’m on the Internet?” I frowned.
“Well, yeah. I expected to find you listed on the gallery’s Web site. Nice bio there, by the way. I also found some articles about a young patrol cop gunned down on a highway in Savannah.”
“Did you read the details?”
“The press painted you as a survivor. A woman too pretty to be a cop who witnessed the murder of her partner and took a bullet herself. One witness said that you pulled your gun and fired within seconds of being shot. You called for help and stayed conscious long enough on the scene to report to your commanding officer, a man who just happened to share your last name.”
“My brother. Both of my brothers are cops, and my father was also. None of them wanted me in patrol. They thought I’d ride a desk and be safe.”
“Did you leave police work because of them?”
“No. For a long time I wasn’t all that sure what had happened that day. It seemed to blur and change every time I thought about it. The nurses and the doctors in the hospital were so careful with me—everyone was careful. It made me crazy at first; I couldn’t figure out why they were all treating me like I was a hero.”
“Until you saw the news and realized that every news station in the state was running the footage from the camera of your patrol car.”
I grimaced. “You saw that too?”
“Yes. The Internet is surprisingly helpful these days.”
“The Internet is the single biggest threat to privacy in this country.” I cleared my throat. “I just couldn’t be a cop anymore. Not the kind of cop I wanted to be when I’d first joined the force.”
“I understand.” He touched my hair and sighed. “I think I might have a bit of a crush on you.”
“Wow.” I rolled over to my back and pursed my lips. “I don’t think that’s ever been said to me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
I turned and looked at him. “Why not?”
“You didn’t have a ton of little boys in junior high sending you notes telling you how pretty you were and to check yes if you liked them back?”
“No. I was too much of a tomboy in school to get those kinds of notes. My father raised me and my brothers basically on his own, so I didn’t have much of a female influence until I went to college.” Thinking about my father hurt, so after a few seconds I pushed all of that back and smiled. “After college, I dedicated myself to my career.”
“Why did you become a police officer?”
“I liked order and justice. I wanted to contribute to society in a meaningful way, and I thought a badge was the way to do it.” And giving up that badge had been extraordinarily hard. Talking about my past was unsettling, but I felt compelled to answer his questions honestly.
“You don’t like talking about this.”
“Why do you say that?” I looked at him and saw the shrewd amusement in his eyes. “Okay, fine, I don’t.”
He reached out for me and pulled me close with an easy strength that caused excitement and concern. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but remember the first time we’d touched—just hours before. His hands hard on my arms, pressing me into the floor. Those same hands that now trailed gently down my back as he shifted me completely on top of him.
“I scared you last night.” Mathias pushed his fingers into my hair and met my gaze without hesitation. “I regret that a lot.”
“You said you’d been watching the gallery for a week.”
“I got there late last night, long after closing, and your car wasn’t in the parking lot.”
I sat up and snuggled my ass against his groin. The rapidly hardening flesh I found there was not a disappointment. “You watched me all week.”
“You’re the last to leave.” He slid his hands up my legs to my waist and then upward over my rib cage. “So, yes, I watched you all week. Your routine was just as important as the guard’s. A body in the building can trip the alarm, which would throw off the results of my endeavor.”
I tried to think back if there had been days when I’d looked like crap but couldn’t remember. I normally have at least one day during the week when my hair won’t do what I say or I run my pantyhose before I even get in the building. It never failed.
“Were you really going to take something from the gallery?”
“I had permission from Mercy to remove a small painting from Level 1 in the north wing. I even brought a case for it so I’d be able to transport it safely.”
“Very forward thinking of you.”
“I’m a planner.” He sat up and pressed me against his chest. “I didn’t plan on you.”
“Then or now?” I asked softly as his hands trailed down my back. The soft fleeting touch on skin that I never knew could be so sensitive made my breath catch briefly.
“Either, both. To be truthful, I don’t think I could’ve planned enough for you.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer and tried to remember that it was just sex. Emotionless sex. That’s all it could be. I didn’t have room for more. But that was becoming very hard to keep in my mind. Being wrapped up in his arms, all of his warmth seeping into my body, had me practically stupid.
“You know, I don’t normally have sex with a man just because I find him attractive.”
“I know.” His hands cupped my ass and he moved me until his cock could slide between my labia. “I’m a lucky man.”
“Yes.” I let my head fall back as I moved against the silky skin of his cock. “I’m ready for more.”
“I know you are.”
My fingers tightened on his shoulders as he lowered his head and sucked my nipple into his mouth. It was odd how comfortable I was in his arms, with his mouth on me. I didn’t feel too skinny or boyish. I’ve never needed a man to feel like a woman, yet it was amazing to find a man who did make me feel female and soft. He rolled us with careful hands until I was flat on my back.
I sucked in a breath when he lifted his mouth and sought out my neglected breast without pausing, and I curled my hand against the back of his head and moved my legs against his. His cock was trapped between our bodies, pressed against my thigh, reminding me of how empty I was. I spread my
