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Traumatized Boy Returned to His Mother.
That was the second article that mentioned Detective Myles Sumner.
He’d failed to mention he’d solved the case. Brought the boy home.
Of course he’d completely left that part out.
Myles is mean and rough—actually, more like serrated—around the edges and spectacularly crass. But thanks to him continuously proving he’s more than just his bad temper and surly attitude, I am utterly intrigued by him and my attraction to him is sprouting teeth. Sharp ones that dig in a little more every time he rumbles past on his bike and I feel the vibrations on my inner thighs, my belly twisting long and low. I’ve been left hanging twice now, reaching a sexual high and not seeing it through to completion and I’m not going to lie, it’s beginning to get to me.
Bright and early tomorrow morning, I’m going to the local sex toy shop.
Needs must.
I must.
There is no way I can make it another five days without an orgasm after being driven so thoroughly to the edge. I’m going to buy the newest model they’ve got with all of the bells and whistles and then I’m going to take it with me on the longest clawfooted bath time in history. Tomorrow morning, this vacation truly begins.
Myles rides past on his bike again.
I stab a radish with the tip of my butcher knife.
Something is different this time, though. He stops and parks outside of the house. I hear a woman’s voice mingle with his guttural tone. Is he talking to someone? Setting down the knife, I leave the kitchen and cross the living room to look out the front window.
Lisa Stanley. Oscar’s sister is outside. She’s halfway up the steps to our porch, but she appears to have stopped to speak with Myles.
“I just thought I would swing by to check on the house. And the Basseys, of course,” she says brightly. “The broken window is being replaced tomorrow and I wanted to make sure they’ll be here to let the men in.”
Myles’s grunt reaches me through the door. My mouth tugs at one end.
I’m starting to enjoy his caveman sound effects.
The silence ticks by.
“Anyway,” Lisa sings awkwardly. “I’m sure you’re busy with the investigation we hired you for…”
“I’ll be coming in with you. I have some questions to ask you, anyway.”
The bounty hunter’s tone leaves no room for discussion. Is he…suspicious of Lisa? Before that question is fully formed, I’m shaking my head. Of course he’s suspicious of her. Everyone is a suspect to Myles. Except us now, thankfully.
Not wanting to be discovered hovering behind the door, I open it and give Lisa a sad smile. I can’t imagine what this week has been like for her. “Hi Lisa. How are you?”
She’s obviously relieved to see me after Myles’s abrupt greeting. “I’m hanging in there, darling. How are you?”
I’m slightly caught off guard when Oscar’s sister embraces me. With my chin unexpectedly perched on her shoulder, I watch Myles jolt forward on the stairs, his fingers flexing at his sides, like he wants to reach for me. Or us? What is up with him?
“Hey Myles,” I murmur.
He dips his chin at me, his gaze intense but guarded. “Taylor.”
I tug out of Lisa’s arms and gesture to the house. Through the screen door, I can hear Jude hobbling in from the backyard. “We’re about to have tacos if you want to join us. I just have to brown the meat.”
“Oh no, I won’t keep you,” Lisa says, rubbing at the back of her neck. Probably because Myles is drilling a hole in it with his eyes. Oscar’s sister glances back at him with noticeable nerves. “Will you be here tomorrow between one and three? I just need you to let in the window guys for a few hours.”
“Of course. I’ll make sure one of us is here.”
Jude darkens the doorway to my right and holds out two uncapped beers to our visitors. “Thank God you’re both here,” says my brother. “Someone has to help us drink all this beer.”
Chuckling, Lisa only hesitates a second before wrapping her hand around one of the bottles. “I’ll just have a few sips. Lord knows I earned it. Today has been the day from hell. The second one this week!”
I gesture for Lisa to come inside and she glides past me, linking her arm with the one Jude offers. He explains his injury to our temporary landlord on their way over to the kitchen where Jude offers her one of the stools placed in a row along the island, then takes one across from her. Myles watches them over the top of my head, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“What is up with you?” I whisper.
“Just stay close to me.”
He doesn’t give me a choice. He’s hot on my heels all the way back to the kitchen, positioning himself with a hip against the counter adjacent to the stove. His attention seems to be everywhere at once. On Lisa, on the meat I’m cooking. He tips my elbow up a little when I’m adding the chili powder and I smack his hand away—and the action causes an immediate pause in Lisa and Jude’s conversation.
