The trick was to soothe his male pride without making any demands.
Yeah, no problem.
And next she would solve cold fusion.
“That depends,” she murmured, forcing a teasing smile to her lips.
His brows drew together. “On what?”
She lifted her head to give his chin a small nip. “You have to apply for the position.”
His tension eased as a wicked glow chased the shadows from his eyes.
“Is that right?”
She licked his bottom lip, forgetting this was supposed to be a distraction.
Hell, she was the one distracted.
In the best possible way.
“Mmm.”
He groaned deep in his throat, his swelling c**k pressing against her inner thigh.
“And how would I go about that?”
“Oh, it’s a very rigorous process,” she breathed.
“I can be rigorous.”
She chuckled, remembering the sound of the headboard slamming against the wall less than an hour ago.
“You most certainly can,” she agreed, a husky edge of lingering pleasure in her voice.
It had taken a while to convince the stubborn man that she was far stronger than most women he’d known, and that she fully approved of his . . . rigorous . . . lovemaking.
He captured her lips in a deep, drugging kiss. “Or I can be slow and thorough.”
The shudder of anticipation started at the tip of her toes and rippled all the way through her.
“That works.”
“But first.”
Lost in the sensual spell he could cast all too easily, Callie was puzzled when Duncan pulled back to study her with a narrowed gaze.
“What?”
“I want you to tell me the truth.”
Was this a game? If it was, she hoped it included more of those slow, thorough kisses.
“The truth about what?” she asked, willing to play along.
“You’ve been quiet since we left the station. What happened?”
Oh . . . crap.
She’d convinced herself that she’d managed to hide her distress at Frank’s unwelcomed confrontation. The last thing she’d wanted was to cause trouble with Duncan’s friend.
But she should have known she hadn’t fooled him for a second. Sergeant Duncan O’Conner missed nothing.
“If I tell you—”
“Callie?” he prompted.
“I don’t want you to overreact.”
His jaw instantly clenched and Callie heaved a resigned sigh. What the hell was wrong with her?
Just warning him not to overreact was a sure way to make him overreact.
“What makes you think I’ll overreact?” he snarled on cue.
“You’re male.”
He blinked at her blunt accusation, then his lips twisted into a rueful smile. “Fair enough,” he muttered, his fingers lightly stroking her cheek. “Tell me.”
Despite his gentle touch, he was wearing his cop face.
He wasn’t going to let this go.
“Your friend Frank was concerned that you weren’t thinking clearly,” she grudgingly confessed.
His fingers tightened on her cheek, but there was no surprise that Frank had been the one to approach her. The coroner had never been particularly discreet in his dislike for high-bloods.
“About you?” he asked between clenched teeth.
“In part.” She ran her hands down the length of his rigid back, her touch soothing. “He believes you’re devastated by the marriage of your wife.”
“Ex-wife.”
She tried not to be pleased by his fierce correction.
But hey, she was human. Or at least, she had the usual human emotions.
Her fingers skimmed back to his shoulders. “He’s convinced that she was your soul mate and that you’re going to regret our relationship once you come to your senses.”
The hazel eyes darkened with the threat of violence. “He said that?”
She grimaced. “Yes.”
“The bastard. I’ll kill him.”
“No, Duncan, he’s your friend,” she said in urgent tones. This was exactly what she feared. “Of course he’s going to be worried about you.”
“He hurt you.”
She shook her head. “No he didn’t.”
His fingers cupped her chin as he held her gaze with a somber intensity. “Callie, if this is going to work we have to be honest with each other.”
He was right. The words that Frank had spoken were already festering deep inside her. Threatening to destroy the joy she felt when she was with Duncan.
The only way to deal with it was to get it out in the open.
Like lancing an infected wound.
“He didn’t hurt me, but he did remind me of the cost you’ll have to pay to be with me,” she said, her voice so low he had to lower his head to catch her words. “It’s . . . not going to be easy for you.”
He stilled, as if surprised by her words. “Not just me, Callie,” he finally said. “It’s going to be difficult for both of us.”
She reached up to touch his jaw. “Are you sure you’re ready for it?”
He studied her concerned expression before he slowly dipped down to kiss her with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes.
“I’m trying,” he murmured against her lips. “Although I can’t guarantee that I won’t get pissed off when I think you’re being insulted.”
“I don’t want you losing your friends.”
Another kiss. Slower . . . deeper.
“If they’re truly my friends then they’ll understand when I tell them to f**k off.” His tongue stroked a damp path along her lower lip. “And if they want to be turd-heads, then they can get the hell out of my life.”
She gave a reluctant chuckle. “Turd-heads?”
“Yep, turd-heads.” He trailed a line of kisses up her jaw before he lifted his head to regard her with a hint of question. “And you? Are you ready for it?”
She held his gaze. “When I’m with you I feel like I can face anything.”
His expression softened, some undefinable emotion smoldering in his eyes.
“Even jackass cops?” he rasped.
“I’m more afraid of your mother.”
He smiled with a sinful intent, his hand sliding over her shoulder and down to cup the swell of her breast.
“You know, I have a perfect way of taking your mind off my ma and interfering friends.” His thumb rubbed the tip of her nipple into a tight peak. “Oh, and the potential end of the world.”
“Hmm.” Her nails scraped down his back, a honey-heat flowing through her body. “This had better be a damned good distraction,” she teased, her foot stroking up the back of his calf.