her lips to his.
He opened his mouth, deepening the kiss until he stole her breath away. His tongue mated with hers, sliding in and out of her mouth. His hands were busy, too, pushing her coat off her shoulders so it dropped to the tiled floor along with her purse. Then he slid his fingers up under her sweatshirt, over her bare rib cage.
His breath shuddered out. “You’re not wearing a bra.”
She wore a heavy sweatshirt and hadn’t thought she needed it. His hands closed over her breasts and she trembled. “Ben…”
“Shh…you don’t know my name,” he reminded her as he moved his mouth across her cheek and down her throat. His tongue lapped at her throbbing pulse.
“Then what do I call you?”
“Shh…” he murmured again as he moved his hands, sliding them up and down so that his palms teased her hardened nipples.
“Ooh…”
Her moan must have broken his control because his touch got rougher, more urgent. They began to shed the rest of their clothes, and he pulled the sweatshirt over her head and then dragged her jeans down over her hips.
“You’re wearing underwear,” he said, tsking, as if disappointed. But his eyes flared with passion as he studied the polka-dot satin panties. He dropped his pants and the black boxers he’d worn beneath them.
Her breath shuddered out now. “Ooh…”
“Your turn,” he said, hooking a thumb in the satin at her hip and dragging it down. Then he lifted her until her bottom settled onto the cold surface of the bar.
“Ben, it’s freezing,” she protested.
But she wasn’t cold for long, not as his mouth and hands moved over her body. Heat coursed through her, burning her up as he joined her on the bar. He rolled so his back was on the cold, glossy surface and she straddled him. She rose up, then settled down…onto him, taking him deep inside her.
His hands gripped her hips, helping her ride him until they both shouted out their release. Paige collapsed onto his chest; his heart raced beneath her damp cheek.
“Wow…” She kissed his shoulder, damp with perspiration. “I wouldn’t mind another round of that.”
His hands skimmed over her bare back, shaking slightly as he caressed her. “I can’t get enough of you, Paige.”
He didn’t sound pleased; he sounded resigned. Was that all they were to each other, a bad habit? When they’d started back up, with their stolen moments of passion, Paige had considered their sexual involvement light and uncomplicated. Because they trusted each other, because they knew each other, they felt safe to play these sexual games with each other. But she should have remembered nothing was ever light and uncomplicated with Ben.
“I’m worried about you,” he said. “Worried about you being here.”
She sighed, too tired—physically and emotionally—to argue with him. “I’m not going to be here much longer. I’m going home.” To her empty bed.
She scrambled off the bar and, too vulnerable to be naked with him, slipped into her discarded clothes. But it didn’t matter if she wore a parka and boots, she was still exposed to him. He had always been able to see right through her. But when she looked at him, as she did now as he pulled his clothes back on, she saw a stranger. A handsome, successful man with whom she’d lived for ten years and loved even longer, but who had never really let her get to know him the way that he knew her.
She turned away from him and walked toward the entry with the black slate floor and the long narrow couches. His shoes scraped across the floor as he followed her out. “How were you going to lock up for Sebastian?” she asked.
“I have a key.”
“Of course.” Sebastian would have given him one. Her brother was closer to her ex than she’d ever been. Her half brother hadn’t found her until ten years ago—their dad having deserted him and his mother just as he’d deserted Paige and hers. That should have been a bond that drew them close, but even though Paige had opened her home and her heart to Sebastian, he held something of himself back from her. Just as her husband had.
Secrets. She was sick to death of them.
Ben reached around her to open the door. And as he did he leaned close enough that the morning light, streaming now through the window, illuminated his face and the spatter of blood across his cheek. She lifted her fingers to it and rubbed away the smear. “You’ve got blood on you.”
He covered her hand with his. “There must have been some on the bar.”
“Is there any on me?” she asked as she made a mental note to find out who had gotten hurt. These were her employees now. Even though Sebastian managed them, she was ultimately responsible for them.
Ben’s gaze slid over her face as thoroughly as his fingers had over her body just moments before. Her breath caught in her lungs as if he had caressed her, the way her fingers were now caressing his cheek. Touching him was never a good idea. She pulled her hand away and fisted it. Even after what they’d just done…she wanted him again. Still.
“I need to get some sleep,” she murmured, protesting her own need. She could inspect the flowers later—when she had enough energy to deal with them.
“Paige…” His eyes darkened with emotion, but he said nothing more, only opened the door, so she could step into the outside stairwell first. After turning the key in the lock, she hurried ahead of him up the cement stairs to where she’d parked Sebastian’s car. When she’d left earlier, with the night’s deposit, he’d insisted she drive his sports car instead of walking home at the late hour.
Dread gripped her as she noticed the glass broken on the pavement beside the red BMW. “Sebastian’s going to kill me,” she murmured as she stepped closer to the damaged vehicle.
The side window had been broken, and the air bag spilled out of the steering wheel—deflated now with a wooden stake protruding through it and the leather beneath it. She glanced around, but that eerie sensation had left her. No one watched her now, as they had earlier.
Perhaps they trusted that she would understand their message this time. Paige shivered as she realized that none of this had been a mistake. The voice in her head had told her the truth. She didn’t belong here; it was too dangerous.
The office door rattled under a pounding fist. Paige’s heart skipped a beat as fear filled her. At Ben’s insistence, she’d locked that door but not the one to the outside stairwell.
Why hadn’t he stayed?
“Paige?” a female voice called out. “Are you all right?”
“Kate!” She sprang up from her desk and fumbled with the lock.
The detective stood outside the door, her gun clutched in her hand. But the friend stepped into the office, her eyes soft with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.”
