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Slade stopped her from opening the door to the loft. “Security is always an issue. Even when there isn’t an imminent threat. You’re becoming a famous novelist, and you’re hanging around other famous novelists, and the four of you want to close cold cases. Besides that, you’re dating a state homicide cop…”
“Are we dating?” she asked. He hated seeing that look of trepidation in her eyes.
“I don’t know what you heard about me in high school, but I can guess. The stories I heard about myself were so far from reality it wasn’t even funny. The fact is I don’t sleep around—well, not much. Not anymore. I’ve never lied to or misled any of the women I slept with. And until you came back into my life, I wasn’t interested in a relationship. But I hope I’m more than some goodtime guy for you.”
The look of relief that passed over her face was almost heartbreaking. Slade knew he’d need to make sure she understood he was in it for the long-haul.
“I’d really like that, but I didn’t want to let myself think it and get clingy.”
He pressed her back against the door and, still holding two large bags of groceries, he leaned down, capturing her mouth with his, letting her feel the hunger he’d kept in abeyance all afternoon.
“Now, open the door and let me feed you so I know you’re properly nourished.”
Grinning, she opened the door, and they filed in. Her loft was maybe a third of the size of the A-frame, but he knew if the A-frame bothered her because of Daniel or she just preferred the loft, he didn’t care. As long as he was with Fiona—had her to come home to—he had all he needed.
While she downloaded the pictures of the photos and documents she’d taken and swept them up onto the murder board, Slade began grilling the filet, basting it in French butter while he made the salad and the aged balsamic dressing to go on it.
He would never let her know, but he’d been more than a little worried when they’d been working throughout the day. Nothing made sense, but it was that very fact that kept him from becoming discouraged. At the end of the day, they’d found hand-written notes, photographs, and a lot of accompanying articles. At least now he felt as though they had a trail, however scant, to follow.
“Babe, dinner’s almost ready. Save whatever you need to and come sit down at the island.”
“Why don’t you just bring it over here? We can work while we’re eating.”
Setting the two perfectly cooked filets on the cutting board to rest, he washed his hands and headed over to her office area.
“Nope. One of the first things you learn if you want to be a good investigator is that you have to nourish your body and let your mind rest. It’s amazing the things your brain will put together when you let it work in the background.”
“But Daniel and Mike were murdered.”
“Which means they’re dead. We owe them the best we can do, but we don’t owe them our lives. We have something we can start teasing away at. Close it up. We’ll have dinner, take a nice long bath and then we’re going to fuck like a couple of bunnies.”
Fiona laughed, and he thought that not only did he want to hear that song for the rest of his life, but he might die if he never heard it again.
“Twist my arm,” she teased.
“If I twist anything, babe, it won’t be your arm.”
Laughing, Fiona allowed herself to be led to the island where he’d made them a simple but delicious meal. On top of the grilled steak was a dollop of goat cheese that he had mixed with finely cut scallions and sundried tomatoes. He served them with the salad and gently warmed and sliced bread and more of the French butter.
Fiona’s laugh was not that of a frothy, light-headed, and spoiled young girl, but the full-throated laugh of a woman who had seen the highs and lows and ups and downs of life and could still laugh at it. The first was like summer sun and lemonade. But Fiona’s was far more complex and reminded him instead of well-aged single malt with deep and harmonic notes of barley, spring water, and yeast. You could hear in her laughter that she had experienced both sides of what life had to offer and was content to continue to explore and find all that she might be able to take from it. Slade had always preferred the finessed taste of a fine single malt.
After dinner, he left Fiona to wash the dishes and tidy up the kitchen while he went into her bathroom and ran a nice long bath. She was just finishing up when he’d finished, finding and lighting candles before returning to her, sweeping her up in his arms and carrying her back to the only room in the loft with walls.
He set her down and they hastily removed each other’s clothes. Slade helped her into the bath, towering over her like some conquering hero come to claim his prize. His cock was fully erect, and he knew his size was impressive, but he also knew how to use it to bring her as much pleasure as she could stand and then some.
“You didn’t have some cockeyed idea that since it has been a long and somewhat stressful day that you’d play the gentleman and ignore that thing, did you?” she asked in a husky tone.
“Trust me, babe, that thought never entered my mind. The only thing I found stressful about today was not being here where I could have my way with you.”
Fiona splashed him. “Have your way with me? Seriously? I do not write sweet romances where all the good stuff is done behind closed doors. If my characters have sex, they have sex, and the woman gives as good as she gets.”
“Really,” he said speculatively as he approached the tub.
Fiona rolled up onto her knees, letting the water drip from her body as the water danced in the firelight and the full moon shone down through the skylight above the tub. She reminded him of all the tales he’d heard of mermaids and sea sirens enticing men to their doom. But Fiona wasn’t offering him any kind of harm. No. She offered him home.
When he was within reach, Fiona grasped his cock in her hand before wrapping her lips around it. Slade groaned in abject appreciation. They were definitely going to be working more from home from now on. He thought of all the ways and places he wanted to fuck her. When she swirled her tongue around the head of his dick and began licking the underside, he lost the ability to think. All he could do was feel.
Fiona took him deep, swallowing him down so that the tip touched the velvety spot at the back of her throat, then reached between his legs and captured his balls, massaging them gently. Before she could undo him completely, Slade unpinned her messy bun, fisting her silky locks and taking control of her head, making Fiona moan in pure arousal. He stilled her head, steadying it as he began to plunge more deeply and forcefully in and out of her mouth. She responded by licking, humming, and sucking his cock as he made use of her heated mouth.
