Get a Clue(78)

“Now,” she whispered.

“Yeah, now.” But her jeans caught on her boots. They spent another breathless moment fighting their clothes, laughing like idiots, and finally, finally, she was in his lap facing him, her thighs opened and draped over his.

By the time she helped him roll on the condom, he was trembling and already on the edge. “Slow,” he said, hands to her hips, lifting her up, guiding himself inside her.

“Fast,” she corrected, then let out a gorgeous sound of helpless desire when he thrust up.

“Yes,” she said fiercely, rocking her hips.

He’d wanted to take his time with her, draw it out, lose the both of them in the moment, but she didn’t let that happen—she never let that happen. She wanted the kick and she wanted it now.

And buried so deeply within her that he could feel her heart beating in his ears, or maybe that was his own, he was in no position to slow them down. In a last desperate move, he gripped her oscillating hips. “Keep that up, and it’s going to be over before we even get started.”

“We started already. God, Cooper, I love to watch you lose it.”

Just the words nearly accomplished that, and he tried to adjust his slippery grip on her hips. But she kept moving them, arching, rocking. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Bree—”

“More,” she panted. “God, please. More.”

Ah, hell, he was a goner. All he could do was hold on and meet her thrust for thrust, closing his eyes to savor her clutching heat, quivering as he fought the orgasm building like a bus barreling down the highway. But he couldn’t keep his eyes closed; he wanted to see her. Her head had fallen back, her skin gleaming. “Breanne.”

Lifting her head, she opened her eyes, too, adding an unexpected intimacy Cooper hadn’t expected. It hit him like a one-two punch. Her gaze was clear and open, allowing him to see more of her than she’d ever allowed him. Trusting.

His throat tightened. “Bree—God. I’m going to—”

“I know—” Her voice was tight. Strangled. “Me, too—” That was all she managed to get out as she exploded in a series of shudders that milked his own climax out of him. Vaguely he heard her cry out his name, and thought . . . love the sound of that, before the roaring of his own blood in his ears overtook all rational brain activity.

When it was over, they slumped together, breathing like misused racehorses. Breanne stirred, lifted her head from his shoulder. Her hair had rioted, sticking to her damp face, but her victorious smile said it all. “That was very . . . nice,” she said mischievously, using the word he’d objected to. “Yes, nice just about covers it.”

In answer, he lightly slapped her on the bare ass, making her laugh and hug him so tight he could hardly breathe.

But breathing was overrated, anyway, and he hugged her back. “Let’s get the hell out of here and back into that suite so I can start all over again and do it right.”

“No can do.” She stood on wobbly legs. “We have to dig out.”

Oh, yeah. They were getting out today. Going their separate ways, which she wanted.#p#分页标题#e#

He wanted that, too.

He just couldn’t remember why.





Twenty-three



You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be misquoted and used against you.

—Breanne Mooreland’s journal entry





Breanne stood up in the theater closet, and, much to Cooper’s consternation, began to look around for her clothes. “I really didn’t write that note just so we could . . . Well.” She laughed a little as she bent over at the waist to snap her teddy back into place.

Cooper’s body twitched. Down, boy.

She shrugged the straps of her teddy back on her shoulders, then reached for the sweater. “You sidetracked me.”

Watching her toss back her hair, he thought about sidetracking her again. And again. “Who sidetracked who?”

She smiled but it didn’t quite meet her eyes, and then she turned away entirely to work on her jeans.

Uh-oh. Taking her arm, he pulled her back around to face him. “What’s wrong?”

She shimmied her jeans up her hips. “You mean besides my life being a shambles? Besides being stranded here, hearing mysterious humming that no one else does, and oh, yeah . . . finding a dead body?”

“Yeah.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears. “Besides all that.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes dark and unreadable. “Nothing.”

He nodded, started to let it, and her, go, because really, what did it matter? But it did matter. At least to him, he was discovering, and he pulled her around again. “Did you know you wrinkle your nose when you lie?”