Their breath mingled, harsh sounds that only served to heighten sensation until she couldn’t think, could barely breathe and white-hot flashes sparkled in her head and pleasure consumed her entire body in a blinding, spectacular release that never seemed to end.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice rough and sexy in her ear. “Keep coming.”
And somehow she did, taking him right along with her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
COOP RETURNED FROM the bathroom and collapsed on top of Lexie. She accepted his weight, enjoying the feel of his hot skin against hers, even if she could barely breathe.
“Coop.” She tapped his shoulder and he rolled to his side, taking her with him.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to crush you. Are you alive?” he asked, his breathing still labored.
“Barely.” Lexie flexed her toes, feeling sore all over. “But in a good way. In an amazing way, actually.” She curled against him and, to her surprise, his body twitched in response.
“So fast?” she asked, unable to hold back a laugh. Damn, she had some effect on him, she thought with no small amount of feminine pride.
“I knew we’d be good together, but that was beyond.”
Pleased, she relaxed into him and inhaled deep, taking in the musky scent of man and sex lingering in the room. Coop held her, his groin twitching against her back, but clearly his thing and his brain weren’t on the same page, because his limbs grew heavy and his breathing deepened.
After a few minutes, she realized he’d fallen asleep.
So he was one of those men, she mused. Sex relaxed him. Not so for her. Sex wired her. She lay staring at the ceiling and decided she needed to work off her excess energy.
Getting up from the bed she contemplated whether she ought to leave and immediately decided against it. Coop hadn’t given her any reason to think he didn’t want her here when he woke up. She glanced over at the bed where he lay sprawled on top of the covers. His tanned skin stood out in contrast to the white sheets and she couldn’t help but be drawn to him.
He was so handsome, generous, sexy and caring. No, Lexie thought as she listened to the sound of his breathing, she wasn’t leaving because she wasn’t finished with him yet.
Instead of her halter and shorts, she pulled her underwear and his T-shirt on, comfortably happy when it fell to midthigh. Then she headed to the other room. From his bookshelf, she pulled a copy of his novel, Street, the murder mystery he’d had published, and settled onto the couch to work. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to get an Internet connection on her machine because he had a locked modem and she’d need his password to get in. And she wasn’t about to wake him to ask for it.
His laptop sat on the table where she’d left it and she couldn’t imagine him minding if she worked there, considering he’d let her play around with it earlier. But a quick check told her the darn thing was still running the defrag program, so she couldn’t work there.
She glanced around and caught sight of the desktop PC in the corner. She’d noticed it the other day when she’d helped him clean his apartment. She decided he wouldn’t mind if she used it for a little while.
She sat down on the chair, glad it was covered in fabric and not cool leather. A quick shift of the mouse and the large screen came into view.
“Excellent,” she said aloud.
But instead of the desktop screen, Lexie came face-to-face with a Word document. Notes on the Ring, the top line of the page read.
Lexie bit down on the inside of her cheek and continued reading. The page detailed a famous jewelry designer, Trifari, known for the insignia inside the shank of its rings. She scanned farther down and noticed a reference to a robbery known as the Lancaster jewel heist. Probably an inside job, accomplished during a dinner party given the same evening as the theft. Probable suspects originally included anyone in the home that night, but the entire staff had been questioned by the police, their whereabouts accounted for, and all had been exonerated.
The police suspected a ring of highly skilled thieves who posed as staff for the evening, including the chauffeur. All three had disappeared without a trace. Coincidence, Coop had written. Or could the chauffeur be Lexie’s grandfather?
And then another question jumped out at her from the bottom of the page. True crime or fiction story—which will hit bigger?
Betrayal coursed through her.
Well, to hell with not waking him. Lexie stormed into the bedroom, turned on the bedside lamp, picked up a pillow and tossed it at Coop.
“What the—?” He bolted upright in bed. “What’s wrong?”
Lexie perched her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You are, if you think you can use my grandparents as fodder for your career or a stepping-stone to bestseller status!” She swallowed over the tears that always formed when she was blinding mad.
She wouldn’t let herself be distracted by his hard body or sexy, sleepy good looks or by the fact that they’d just shared incredible sex. And to think she’d told herself she could trust the man.
“Well? Talk to me,” Lexie demanded.
Coop forced his mind to focus on what she was saying. One minute he’d been fast asleep and the next she’d slammed him with a pillow and begun hurling accusations and demanding answers.
She didn’t bear even a passing resemblance to the pliant sensual woman who had shared his bed earlier.
He pulled the covers over his naked body, not because he was embarrassed but because he even found her anger sexy, and he doubted she’d appreciate seeing the evidence.
“Exactly how did you come to these conclusions?” he asked.
“I couldn’t sleep and decided to start working on your Web site. When I couldn’t get an Internet connection on my laptop and yours was still running scans, I decided to use your desktop instead.”
He exhaled a long groan. He couldn’t accuse her of snooping. He’d left his notes up on the screen. “If you’ll calm down, I can explain.”
“I’ll bet you can,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.
“Lexie?” he asked, deceptively calm.
“What?”
“Sit down and be quiet for five minutes.” He pointed to the edge of the bed.
Glaring, she flopped onto the side of the mattress, far from him.
He wanted her to calm down and think clearly, something she wouldn’t do if she were steaming mad and working up a snarky answer to everything he said.
“You knew I was going to be looking into the history of the jewels, remember?”