Mallory Kane - Double-Edged Detective

Once he got started, he didn’t want to be hindered by clothes, so he quickly undid the top button of his shirt and tugged it off over his head, then shed his khaki pants.

By the time he was out of his clothes, Nicole had stripped down to her pink panties. Now they were sexy.

He didn’t remove them. Not yet. Instead, he slid his hands along her firm, soft skin. He caressed her breasts, trailing his fingers across their tips and watching them tighten in response. He traced the curve of her waist and the swell of that enticing backside. Just as he’d thought, it was as firm and silky smooth as the rest of her. Then he hooked his fingers around the bikini panties and pulled them off and tossed them aside. He dipped into her, sliding, touching, coaxing her body into response.

“There are condoms in that drawer,” Nicole whispered raggedly.

The box of condoms was sealed, and he couldn’t help wondering how long she’d had it as he tore the cardboard top and retrieved one. He fumbled like a teenager, but finally got it on. In the midst of it, as his cheeks warmed in embarrassment and he thought about stopping while he still had one rational brain cell in his head, Nicole wrapped her hand around him, and that one last coherent thought scattered like dandelion seeds in the wind.

He kissed her again, and retraced the path of his fingers with his tongue. He kissed the petal-smooth skin of her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Then he traced the little tunnel between her breasts. He cupped them again, lavishing more attention on their tips. Once they stood erect, he tasted each one in turn, then grazed them with his teeth. To his delight, she arched her back and moaned with pleasure.

Her skin tasted fresh and sweet, like a crisp, cool melon. His mouth watered as he traced the indentation below her breastbone and slid his hand down to palm her flat belly.

She sat up and pulled him back to kiss his mouth again, while her hand cupped him and caressed him until his erection pulsed against her palm. Then she guided him. He groaned with the effort of controlling himself as he slid into her.

Nicole was riding a wave of hot delicious pleasure like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her few experiences had let her know she enjoyed sex, but this, with Ryker, was something far beyond mere enjoyment.

Her entire body vibrated with almost unbearable desire, building from her sexual core like a volcano about to erupt. And when he sank deeply into her, filling her, the shock of her instantaneous climax caused her to cry out.

He immediately stopped. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly, his forehead pressed against hers. His erection throbbed inside her, as her own body pulsed in tiny aftershocks.

“Yes,” she breathed, and arched upward to take him in more fully. “Don’t stop.”

With a low growl, he began thrusting rhythmically, stirring her already satiated desire to new life. Each thrust took them higher and higher still, until he rose up on his arms and drove her to a new, dizzying pinnacle.

Both of them cried out as they came together. Then Ryker kissed her gently on the lips, floated a fleeting kiss to each eyelid, then pressed his face into the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck. His harsh breaths slowly returned to normal.

Nicole felt as if she had melted into the mattress. Her limbs might as well have been boneless, and her body still trembled in an occasional tiny contraction.

But the most amazing thing was that she felt as if she could drift off to sleep. Ryker lay beside her and pulled her into the crook of his arm. He kissed her temple and murmured, “Are you okay? “

She nodded. “Better than okay.”

“Good.” Then, within a few seconds, his breathing slowed and evened out.

“Are you?” she whispered, but he didn’t answer. Did he feel as safe and comfortable as she did? Or was he one of those self-absorbed guys who fell asleep as soon as they were done?

No, he wasn’t one of those guys. He’d been too attentive, too considerate. And he’d definitely thought of her pleasure. Her very, very nice pleasure.

Her … pleasurable … pleasure …

Drowsily, she realized her thoughts were drifting. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, filling her head with his clean, soapy scent, and her mind with his promise.

I’m going to make sure that nothing—nothing—happens to you.

Ryker emerged into consciousness, leaving behind a sexy dream involving NicoleBeckham. The subtle scent of melon and an afterthought of coffee tickled his nostrils. He shifted, and realized he was lying on his back, sprawled diagonally across a double bed. His eyes opened to a slit, and he saw that faint light was seeping in from behind a set of pale green curtains.

Was he still dreaming? He took another breath and his mouth watered at the scent of melon and coffee. Memories of the night before stirred his desire. Nope. This was definitely not a memory. It was reality.

He frowned and squinted. Surprisingly, he’d slept through the night, something he rarely did—never if there was a woman in bed with him. He tried to lift his arm to check his watch, and found that he couldn’t. His arm was weighted down by Nicole’s shoulder. Her honey-smooth, naked, rounded shoulder.

Then he noticed that more of her was draped across him. She was on her stomach and her face was buried in her pillow. He raised his head and admired the sexy curve of her buttocks half-hidden by a sheet. He looked further. Her legs were sprawled across his calf.

Without allowing himself too much time to think about why he was so reluctant to move, when usually he couldn’t wait to get home after a date, he slid his leg out from under hers, turned over and pressed a kiss to the curve of her shoulder, then slipped his arm out from beneath her.

She lifted her head and gazed at him through heavy-lidded, sleepy eyes. Then her gaze went to the window behind him. “It’s daylight,” she said, sounding surprised.

“We slept all night,” he responded, smiling at her. “How are you doing this morning?”

She sat up, pulling the rumpled sheet with her and pushed her tousled hair back from her face. “I’m fine,” she said on a yawn, then smiled sheepishly. “I don’t usually sleep all night, especially—”

“With someone else in the bed?” he finished. “Me neither.”

She looked at him thoughtfully.

“What?” he asked, sitting up beside her and making sure the sheet covered him.

She blinked. “Nothing. Are you hungry?”

“Starving. What’ve you got?”

“Not much. I rarely eat at home.”

Ryker grinned. “Come on. Surely you have eggs.”

“I think so.”

“And we know you have coffee. So you stay here, and I’ll make breakfast. When I’m done, you can make the coffee in that fancy espresso machine of yours.”

“I thought you said you didn’t cook.”

“I said I didn’t cook much.” He put a finger against her mouth. “Just say thank you. You’ve cooked for me practically every night for almost a year. Let me return the favor.”

“Thank you,” she said against his finger. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, then sat up and grabbed his briefs and jeans and headed for the bathroom.

Once Ryker had gone into the kitchen, Nicole put her hands over her mouth and squealed silently.

What had she done? In the year since the break-in, she hadn’t had one date. Not one. She hadn’t even thought about dating. Certainly hadn’t missed it. She’d been too busy making a reputation for herself as a chef all over again at a new restaurant.

Now, suddenly, she’d fallen into bed with a man—a cop—whose only interest in her was that she’d managed to survive his faceless killer.