The words prodded the reaction she’d wanted.
He pushed her down on the sofa, tore open her slacks, and stripped them from her legs. Looming above her, he stared at her panties a long moment, clearly surprised by the frilly, sexy underwear beneath all those conservative clothes she wore. What the hell had he expected? She was a woman too. Just because she didn’t screw every man she met, like her sister, didn’t make her less of a woman. Then he ripped those lacy panties from her body. Anticipation roared inside her.
He kneed his way between her thighs. Wrenched open his trousers ... and hesitated. “Changed your mind yet?”
“Shut up and do it.” She shoved his trousers and boxers down his hips.
He grabbed her hips, lifted her, then pushed fully inside her.
She forgot all else as she wrapped her legs around his and instinctively ground her pelvis against him. The fight drained fully out of her as they settled into that old-as-time rhythm.
Along with a heart-stopping orgasm that coincided with his, reality crashed around her. What the hell had she done?
He pulled out, righted his trousers, and stumbled off the sofa.
She snatched up her slacks, jerked them on. Tried to pull her blouse back together to cover herself.Obviously, I have lost my mind.
His gaze collided with hers and she recognized that she’d said the words aloud. She turned away, couldn’t look at him. Her face burned with embarrassment.
And she had no one to blame but herself.
“What ...” He cleared his throat. “What had you running down the stairs?”
That he could back away and move on to business as if they hadn’t just doneitsent renewed fury firing through her veins.
The blood . . . the words . . . Shelley’s things . . .
Oh God. CJ grappled for her composure. “Upstairs. There ...”Pull it together;think rationally. “Someone broke in. Left a message on the bedroom wall.”
“Stay here. I’ll check it out.”
While he was upstairs, she grabbed her ripped panties from the floor. Half the buttons were missing from her blouse. She truly had to be losing her grip entirely.
What the hell had she been thinking?
She hadn’t. That was the point. Months ago, when she’d thought he was so charming and trustworthy, she’d been certain they had a future together. Then she’d discovered that he was not the person she thought he was. She’d tried to forget him completely, but Shelley just kept bringing him up.
Even now, with Shelley dead, Braddock was still an integral part of what was left.
Maybe that was the reason CJ had lost total control tonight. She’d needed a mindless outlet, but mostly she’d needed him. He’d just happened to walk through the door before she regained her senses.
CJ’s fingers stilled in their efforts to tidy her hair. She hadn’t heard him knock; she’d just rushed down the stairs and found him in her living room.
She walked over to the door, turned the knob. Unlocked. His SUV was parked on the street.
Had she left it unlocked when she came in? Did he have a habit of just walking in uninvited? Maybe Shelley allowed him that privilege, but CJ—
The sound of him coming down the stairs had her turning to face him.
“What’re you doing here?” she demanded, her body still hot and quivery from the sex. Ensuring the panties were wadded in her fist, she folded her arms over her chest to hide the missing buttons.
He looked uncharacteristically tousled and too damned good-looking. She hated, hated, hated that she couldn’t not notice that about him.
“I was on my way home and I wanted to check on the house. I figured you would be at Abbott’s or at a hotel.” He gestured to the door. “When I stepped up onto the porch”—he shrugged those broad shoulders—“I heard you scream. I tried the door and it was unlocked, so I came in. You plowed into me.”
This was all too overwhelming. “What about the ...?” She pointed upstairs. “Is that blood? I didn’t get close enough to inspect it.”
“Definitely blood. I called for a forensics tech. He’s on the way.”
