Lorie O - Strong, Sleek and Sinful

“I love you, Kylie,” he whispered against her mouth when he finally glided deep inside her.

His words along with the pressure he applied took her over the edge. She ignored the pang in her thigh when she arched underneath him, gripping his arms and actually panting as she fought to catch her breath.

“Oh, God, Perry,” she cried, feeling another emotional roller coaster hit her, and worried she might start crying in the middle of making love to him. “I most definitely love you, too.” And she had for quite a while now, possibly well before leaving him.

“Don’t leave me again.” It wasn’t an order, although not quite a request. And he didn’t wait for a response.

Perry impaled her, and when she howled from the depth he reached, he devoured her mouth, taking all she offered and giving as much in return. Her world tilted, all anxiety, the panic attacks, her worries and pain vanishing as their bodies became one. She exploded, the dam of passion releasing and her orgasm pushing her to a new level.

He continued fucking her, bringing her to a hard orgasm several more times, obviously not exhausted in spite of working all night. When he finally released, deep inside her, pumping all he had until his body was covered with a shiny sheen of sweat, his bulging muscles appeared larger and more defined. It was definitely the sexiest view she’d ever witnessed in her life.

Kylie relaxed slowly, taking time to catch her breath while running her fingertips over the tight, dark curls in the middle of his chest. “This afternoon at four I have a job interview,” she told him, knowing the time was right.

“Oh?” He didn’t roll over next to her when he slowly pulled out but instead moved to a sitting position, pulling her into his arms and cradling her with her injured thigh away from him. He moved his finger slowly around the still-tender scar and slightly puffy flesh where the bullet had entered her. “I thought you weren’t leaving the FBI.”

“It’s an interview for the supervisor’s position at the field office here in town.”

His gaze shot to hers, one eyebrow tilting slightly as his gaze narrowed on hers. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner? You have come back to stay.”

His excitement was so noticeable it was impossible not to smile. “Perry, I needed to know you wanted me here no matter what.”

“You knew I did,” he growled.

“I thought you did until you were so cold toward me when you pulled me over for speeding.” She spoke easily, relaxing in his arms and letting her head rest against his arm. “Then I wasn’t sure what to do. I almost left, but couldn’t without talking to you first.”

“I didn’t want to endure the pain of you entering my life again only to leave.”

“There is a possibility I might be here for good.” She studied his face closely and saw only the love he’d professed to her while making love to her.

“Do you want a desk job?” He surprised her with the question.

When she was sure he would be excited at the prospect of her remaining in Mission Hills, Perry knew her well enough, even after being apart for three months, to know the thrill of solving the case, being on the streets and piecing together the puzzle pieces, meant more to her than anything else in her life. Although she was beginning to believe Perry meant as much to her.

“It’s going to take a while before I’m completely healed,” she admitted, noting how easy it was to share that information with him when only a few weeks ago the knowledge had made her sick to her stomach. “And there is no insurance I’ll get the job here in town, but my supervisor in Dallas arranged for the interview with the area field supervisor. I have a feeling the job will be mine if I want it. I’ve put in my time, and since I’ve been injured, they know my experience and knowledge of solving cases can still be put to good use with me running the office here in town.”

Perry glanced at his dresser, where a clock radio glowed with digital numbers. It was already almost ten in the morning. “I need to get some shut-eye, and have to be at work at five. But I’ll take you to that interview.”

She could drive herself, but the thought of having him take her, wishing her luck, and being there afterward so she could share what had happened sounded really appealing.

“Have you had enough to eat?” she asked.

Perry was already pulling the blankets back on his bed, keeping her in his arms while adjusting their bodies until they lay next to each other in his bed. “I have for now,” he growled, nipping at her ear. “You should take a nap, too. You’re going to need to be rested. I have a feeling I’m going to wake up a starving man.”

“There will be plenty for you to eat when you wake up.” She cuddled in next to him, the warmth of his body enveloping her and assuring her once again she was home, for good.

Home was where her heart was, and she had known she’d find it if she came back.

Read on for an excerpt from the next book

by Lorie O’ Clare

Play Dirty

Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

Greg King loved not having to worry about getting a warrant. But if he shot to kill, he would face murder charges. He really did hate some of the laws on the books.

Keeping his Glock pointed to the ground, he hit the street, humidity causing his shirt to cling to him like a second skin. It wasn’t even light out yet. It would be another scorcher, tolerable only if he nailed the fugitive they’d been tracking since two AM before the sun got too high in the sky.

And they said life would be boring once he retired from the LAPD.

“Marc, you in place?” he hissed into his Bluetooth.

“Yup,” Marc whispered in his ear, sounding somewhat winded. “Stationary and ready for fireworks.”

“Jake, what’s it like out front?”

“All quiet. He’s still in there.” Jake’s anxious tone sounded as if he were running high on adrenaline.

But then, weren’t they all. It had been one hell of a night.

“I’m going in,” Greg informed his sons.

Marc and Jake both loved the kill, although technically no one died. Or they weren’t supposed to. Greg and his sons were only paid when they brought their prey in alive. A dead fugitive was no good to the bondsman who’d hired them, or in this case, bondswoman.

Greg knew the craving to make the bust, bring down the fugitive, and slap on those cuffs, ran strong enough in his blood that both of his boys would get high from the adventure just like he did. Pulling all-nighters like this never got old. Dealing with the bureaucratic red tape that forced him to wait on judges’ signatures and stalling until he got the go-ahead from his senior officers got old as hell. Those days were behind him now. Being a bounty hunter allowed him freedom to do exactly what he planned on doing right now, and would have killed to do for the past twenty years.

Greg cut between the dilapidated house and the house next door where Charlie Woods supposedly lived, moving silently in spite of his size. Size did matter. No one would convince him otherwise. But Greg knew how to move his over-six-foot-tall body-six foot four inches to be exact-without disturbing a soul. There wasn’t any reason to wake the entire neighborhood simply because Pedro thought he could jump bail and make a run for it. Charlie was a known member of the Hell Cats, a gang Pedro Gutierrez had once belonged to. According to reliable sources, Pedro was hiding out at Charlie’s. Greg wouldn’t learn the truth by simply knocking on the door.

He reached the backyard and hurried across the lawn, slowing when he reached the metal screen door. He kept his gun down, pulling the door open with his left hand, then braced it with his body as he turned the handle on the door.