Last night had been good. Fucking fantastic. And he wondered, just what would it be like if he let go of his control? Would the doc be able to handle him?
Her ni**les were hard, stabbing into him, and he had to touch them. Keeping his mouth on hers, sweeping his tongue against hers, he lowered his right hand and cupped the warm weight of her breast.
Damn. He wanted that breast in his mouth. His fingers edged under her shirt, slid past the lacy bra, and found her nipple. When he squeezed her with the tip of his fingers, she gasped into his mouth, and the rich scent of her arousal perfumed the air.
They were alone in the hallway. Dimly, he could hear the slow beat of music coming from the ME’s office. Smith had started the jazz CD again. She wasn’t going to come out and find them. And no one else was down in the Crypt.
He walked Emily back a few steps, pushed her up against the wall and slowly lifted his head. She was watching him, her eyes wide behind her glasses, her bow shaped, f**k-me lips a dark red, glistening.
Oh, those lips. He wanted to feel them around his cock. He’d fantasized about the doc, imagined her taking him inside and licking him with that sweet, skillful tongue of hers.
But the Crypt wasn’t the place for that. And they didn’t have much time.
And he needed a better taste of her.
He jerked up her shirt, exposing her bra. Black, of course.
“Colin, no, someone might come—”
He pushed her bra aside. Gazed down at her br**sts. The woman truly had the best br**sts he’d ever seen. And he’d seen his fair share.
Not too big, not too small, just perfect for his hands. And so sweet…
He closed his lips over her nipple, pulling gently, then stroking her with his tongue.
“Oh, Jesus, Colin…” He could hear the need in her voice, and it filled him with fierce satisfaction.
I do know you, Emily. I know just how to touch you, know just what you want.
Emily might think she could dismiss their physical connection, but he’d show her just how wrong she was. Sex might not be the key to linking them, but he figured it was a damn good start.
He caught the fabric of her skirt in his hands, pulled up the material slowly, very slowly. He liked the way she felt against him.
Warm. Soft.
He pulled her breast deeper into his mouth, sucking strongly. And he f**king loved the way she tasted.
Her hips bucked against him. Her nails cut through his shirt and dug into his skin.
The doc had claws. Oh yeah, he liked that.
Growling his pleasure, he pushed his hand between her spread thighs. Her panties were wet with cream, and when he eased his fingers beneath the small band of fabric, Emily’s breath choked out. “Colin—”
“Easy.” They both needed this. His fingers stroked her. His thumb pressed against the button of her desire. Just a few more minutes…
A slow, grinding rumble reached his ears. Then a soft, faint ding of sound.
Shit. The elevator. He jerked down her skirt, spun around, covering her with his body. “Someone’s coming.” Someone with extremely piss-poor timing.
He was so aroused that he hurt, and he’d been minutes, seconds, away from finding release with Emily.
He glanced over his shoulder. She was frantically rearranging her shirt. Her face was flushed, but he knew it wasn’t due to passion.
Making out in the Crypt probably wasn’t the doc’s usual style.
Another strike against him? Or one in his favor?
Damn. He hadn’t meant for things to go so far. He’d just wanted to touch her, wanted to remind her of what they had.
Sex like that—the heat, the fast combustion—it was damn rare. And worth fighting for.
“Emily…”
Her chin jerked up. Fire flashed in her eyes.
And the elevator doors swished open. Colin’s head jerked back around just as Brooks stepped forward. Looked to the left, then the right—
“Gyth! Damn, man, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Pity the guy couldn’t have kept looking for another two minutes.
Brooks noticed Emily. One brow rose, and the light seemed to dawn. “Uh, is this a bad time?”
A very bad time.
Emily pushed past him. Her clothes were perfect again, but her ni**les were thrusting against the soft fabric of her shirt, her lips were plump and darkly pink, her eyes bright.
Brooks wasn’t an idiot. He knew what those signs meant.
Wisely, his partner didn’t say a word when Emily crossed in front of him.
“Where’s McNeal?” she asked.
“His office.” He also managed to keep his eyes on her face. Good man. He wouldn’t get punched.
Emily nodded. Stepped into the elevator.
Well, damn. Not even a good-bye. Colin lunged forward, shot out his hand to stop the doors from closing. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Her jaw locked and she stared at the control panel. “I have to think, Colin. There’s too much going on…”
He heard Brooks’s soft footfalls. The guy was inching back, probably trying to give ’em some privacy.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he repeated. They had to talk. About Darla. About Serenity Woods. About the demons who’d attacked them.
Her gaze flashed to his. “This is the second time you’ve given yourself an invitation to my place.”
“Yeah, but you want to finish what we started as much as I do.” He let his eyes drop to her br**sts. His voice thickened as he said,
“And we will finish, Doc, that’s a promise.”
Colin stepped back. The doors slid closed, and Emily disappeared.
Brooks whistled softly. “Tell me you weren’t just making out with our profiler in the Crypt.”
“Fine. I won’t tell you.” He actually didn’t want to tell him a damn thing about Emily. She was his. His business. His woman.
“I don’t think a place like this is, uh, quite what Dr. Drake is used to,” Brooks said softly.
Yeah, no shit.
Damn. The doc—she was different. She made him feel different.
Wanting to f**k and wanting to protect—what in the hell was up with that?
“Listen, loverboy, I’ve got some pictures upstairs I want you to look at,” Brooks said. “Maybe you can match the tat on that guy who jumped you.”
“Forget it. He’s not an issue now.”
“What? You can’t be serious, man, the guy tried to kill you—”
“And now he’s lying on a slab in Smith’s cold chamber.” While the guy’s spirit might be sending some kind of message to Emily, he sure as hell wasn’t talking to them.