Steam rose around her, light, foggy tendrils that drifted in the air. She turned back around—
And saw the outline of a man’s body through the distorted glass of the shower door.
Her heart beat faster, faster—
Colin pulled open the door. He was naked. And aroused.
Emily swallowed. Forced her gaze to lift. “I-is your partner gone?”
“Umm.” His own gaze swept down her body, lingering on her br**sts, the dark hair at the juncture of her thighs.
He stepped into the shower, closed the door with a soft click behind him.
“H-he’s wrong, you know. I didn’t have anything to do with Darla’s murder.”
He pressed his fingertip against her lips. “I know.”
The water poured over them in a warm, steady stream.
Emily opened her mouth. Her tongue snaked out, licked the tip of his finger.
His pupils flared in hungry response.
She drew his finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him and sucking softly.
“Don’t tease me,” he growled.
She released his finger. Heady power filled her. It was the kind of sensual power she’d never felt—until Colin. He made her feel beautiful, sexual.
Wanted.
She wasn’t a freak with him. She didn’t have to choose her words for fear he’d discover her secret. She didn’t have to pretend with him. She could just…be.
Her fingers trailed over his chest. Found his ni**les. Rubbed. “Who said I was teasing?” His c**k pressed against her belly, fully aroused, easily thicker than her wrist.
She bent her head, let the water rush down her back, and took his nipple into her mouth.
His fingers tangled in her hair, held her closer. She heard him suck in a sharp breath.
Keeping her mouth on him, her fingers slipped down to his groin. Found the hard length of his arousal. Wrapped around him, squeezed.
Oh God, but she couldn’t wait to feel that c**k in her, driving deep, filling every inch of her sex.
Colin pulled lightly on her hair, forcing her head to lift. His mouth locked onto hers, his tongue sweeping inside, claiming her.
He spun around, pinned her against the smooth tile. His fingers dipped into the dark curls at her sex. Parted her folds and plunged inside.
Oh yes! Her hips ground against his hand. Her mouth jerked away from his and she hoarsely demanded, “Colin, more!” He knew just how to touch her. Knew where to press, where to stroke, where to—
He pushed three fingers inside of her. Emily squeezed her eyes shut. Her sex trembled around him.
“You’re so damn sexy,” he growled, licking his way down her neck. “Every time I see you, I want to take you.”
Her hips twisted against him, jerked. He was holding his fingers still now. The pressure was maddening. She needed him to move, to—
He pulled his hand away and Emily moaned in protest.
Colin laughed, but the sound was strained. “It’s all right, baby, I’ll give you what you need.”
His hands locked on her waist. Lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me.”
Damn, but she’d forgotten just how strong he was. Shifter strength.
Her legs curled around his hips. The head of his c**k nudged her entrance.
Then he drove deep inside, lodging his c**k balls deep in her sheath.
Her sex clamped down on him, and she squeezed him, loving the feel of his flesh inside her.
He was moving then. Pulling back. Thrusting deep. Again and again.
Her hands rose to his shoulders, gripped the slick flesh.
His mouth captured her breast and his tongue swirled over her nipple.
His hips slammed into her. Withdrew, plunged.
And his mouth, oh, his mouth—
His fingers edged between their bodies. He found her clit, pressed with his thumb.
She came, her sex contracting as a powerful orgasm shot through her.
Colin lifted his head, watched her. “Damn, I love it when you come.” Another thrust. “You. Feel. So. Fucking. Good.” And then he was shuddering against her, his own climax claiming him.
When the waves of pleasure finally stopped, Emily didn’t move. Her back felt bruised, sore from contact with the tile, but she didn’t really care.
Her fingers stroked the back of Colin’s neck.
He kissed her shoulder and held her.
Terrace Lane was one of those quiet, unassuming little streets that looked like it belonged on a greeting card. Perfectly groomed lawns. Large, brick houses. Neat little sidewalks. Cute kids playing in the yards.
The neighborhood made him tense. He didn’t belong there. Wasn’t part of that picture-perfect world.
And neither was the doc.
How had she felt, he wondered, growing up there? She’d been seeing demons and vampires, and the other kids had been playing basketball and hopscotch.
She’d never fit in. And neither had he.
“All right. Donna Tillman, the neighbor on the right”—Brooks lifted his notebook and pointed to a house with a large bay window—“said she saw Dr. Drake arrive a little after seven-thirty last night.”
Colin grunted. It was the same story he’d gotten from Tom Henry, the neighbor on the left. “She sure about the time?”
“Yeah, said she was taking out her garbage when she saw her.” Brooks turned his attention to 2801 Terrace Lane. “Mrs. Tillman thought it was real odd, too, because apparently, Dr. Drake never comes to visit, and when she did get here, she stayed in the car for about fifteen minutes before she went inside.”
He was sure that the helpful Mrs. Tillman had been peering through her window that entire time, so she probably had an exact count on those minutes. “They’ve confirmed her alibi.”
Brooks lifted a brow. “Neither of them remember when she left.”
“Then let’s go ask the mother.” And Colin had to admit that he was curious about Emily’s mom. The schoolteacher. The woman who’d sent her daughter to Serenity Woods.
They rang her doorbell, and the soft peal echoed back to them. A moment later, the door was opened and a small, delicate woman with short black hair and wide green eyes peered up at them. “Yes?”
Colin pulled out his badge. “Atlanta PD. I’m Detective Colin Gyth, and this is my partner, Todd Brooks.”
Her fingers curled around the side of the door. Turned white. “Wh-what do you want?”
Brooks flashed her a smile. “We just have a few questions to ask you, ma’am.”
Her eyes darted between them. “About what?”
“About your daughter, Emily Drake.”
Colin saw her flinch.