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The sound of the front door opening brought her to a halt. Voices followed, along with the telltale thump of Stacy’s cast crossing the wooden floors.
Through the back wall of the closet, she heard her sister’s voice.
“Thank you for seeing me home all safe and sound, Detective.”
“No problem,” came a lazy, familiar drawl in reply. Ian’s voice. “Is your sister home?”
Some more thumping followed as Stacy came down the hall and stopped outside the bedrooms. “Doesn’t look like it. Both cars are parked out front, but she might have walked down to the store or the Laundromat. She’s funny that way—likes to walk instead of drive. Says it clears her head.”
“After spending the morning holed up in a police interview room, I’ll bet her head could use some clearing,” Ian replied. He was much closer now. It sounded like they were both standing in the hallway between the two bedrooms.
She knew she should speak up, but the thought of emerging from Stacy’s closet, all tear-drenched and pathetic, held her back. Ian would tell Trevor he’d found her hiding in a closet, sobbing her eyes out. No, she’d wait until he left. Stacy would understand if she explained she hadn’t wanted to deal with another cop.
“I know my head could use some clearing, Detective.” Stacy’s voice increased in volume as she thumped into the bedroom. It had also taken on a seductive note. Inwardly, Kylie groaned.
“You want to go for a walk?” Ian asked.
“No, no.” Bedsprings squeaked as someone dropped onto the mattress. Kylie didn’t need even two guesses to know who. “I prefer to clear my head with a slightly different activity. It works best when I have a partner helping me—a strong, able-bodied partner.”
“That so?” Ian’s voice sounded a little thick now. The rustle of fabric and tiny pop of a knee joint suggested he’d crouched down. Kylie’s heart sank. Oh, no…this is not happening.
“Yes. Would you be the man for the job, Ian? Let me show you what it entails before you decide.” More rustling. More springs creaking. The snap of a bra clasp followed by Stacy’s throaty moan. “See, you’re already so helpful.”
“Hmm,” Ian agreed, clearly talking with his mouth full. “And you’re straight up beautiful, as you know.” His voice trailed off and the sound of busy lips sucking and kissing abundant flesh filled the room.
“Oh, honey. My toes curl when you do that. The girls are begging for more.”
“Lie back and get comfortable. I’m about to clear your head.”
The mattress squeaked some more.
“Perfect. I don’t want to hurt your leg, Stacy. Can I—?” Stacy’s groan contained not a hint of pain. “I’m just going to prop this one up here on my shoulder.”
His “How’s that?” sounded distinctly muffled, but Stacy’s “Sweet heaven” rang out loud and clear.
For the next few moments, Kylie counted her sister’s disarrayed shoes and tried to ignore the noises coming from the next room. Stacy’s inarticulate but increasingly desperate moans were hard to block out.
Finally, Ian’s voice cut in. “You’re going to pull my hair right out of my scalp if you keep that up.”
“Inside me,” Stacy ordered. “Right now. Condoms are in the night table.” Her imperious tone gave way to another pleading moan when the wet sound of a busy tongue was the only reply to her demand.
“Inside me,” she panted again.
“Uh-uh. This is about clearing your head. Mine’s pretty clear already. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Apparently true, because in the next second, the bedsprings sang, and Stacy’s long, agonized, and profoundly ecstatic cry of relief reverberated through the entire apartment. Possibly the entire building.
Silence followed, broken by the occasional sound of lips against skin and, eventually, the mattress groaning under the weight of a second body.
“You okay? Your leg—?”
“God, sweetie. I’m better than okay. My leg is fine, hasn’t felt this good in weeks. Give me one second and then I’ll take care of you.”
“Relax. I’ll take a rain check.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard.”
