Hot Secrets - Page 8/56

He closed his arms around her, righting her footing. “Easy, sweetheart. Big guys like me take up a lot of space.” He swiped a strand of hair from her eyes, fighting the rush of desire. “What were you going to say?”

“Kiss me,” she said, and pressed to her toes and melted her mouth against his.

His will to resist this woman, to make sure she was inside her apartment safely, and then leave, faded with the touch of their lips, damn near crumbling into ash when he felt her tongue press past his teeth. A low growl escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding around her back to mold her closer. There was innocence in the kiss, sexuality undiscovered, a trait so rare, so raw, so intimately just for him, that he knew nothing but need possessive, hot need.

Before Royce knew what he was doing, he had her pinned against the wall, his legs trapping hers, his body molding her close. He deepened the kiss, drinking her in, craving more of her, wanting more of her. And when she whimpered, there was no right or wrong. There was only the moment, the woman, the… cold gust of air coming from his right. He stilled, his ears registering the too evident sound of car horns coming from the street level.

Royce tore his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged, hers as well. “Is your window open, Lauren?”

Another loud horn sounded and she stiffened, her eyes going wide. “I never leave my window open.” Her brows dipped. “Is it broken?”

He pulled her into the kitchen. “Stay right here to be safe and let me check it out.”

She nodded. “Yes. Okay.” He started to turn and she grabbed his arm. “Be careful. I have a fire escape. It would be easy to crawl into my window.” She let him go and reached for her purse. “I’ll have my phone in hand in case there’s trouble.”

Royce was already rounding the corner by the time she finished the statement, making sure he was out of her sight when he pulled the gun from under his pant leg. He eased into the darkness of what appeared to be a living room, with a fireplace in the center of the wall directly in front of him which was framed by windows, one of which was open, a curtain fluttering wildly around it. No obvious sign of forced entry, but that didn’t mean anything.

He flipped on a light, taking in the huge, overstuffed blue couch and matching chairs with plush cushions that would be far too easy to turn into a bed. The image of slipping Lauren’s na**d body beneath his on that very couch sent a wave of pure heat through his loins, his c**k thickening uncomfortably against his zipper. Royce scrubbed his face and loosened his tie. Holy hell, he was in big trouble when he was holding a gun, and thinking of turning a living room into a bedroom, instead of who he might need to shoot with that gun.

With the dining room to his left, Royce could see Lauren staring at him over the bar from the kitchen.

She’d seen his gun so he stopped trying to hide it. He motioned to the only other room, which had to be her bedroom, warning her he was headed to her private space.

He entered the room and flipped on the lights, illuminating the elegant antique furnishings that included a large, too suggestive, sleigh bed. The now familiar scent of vanilla and honey flared in his nostrils, taunting him.

Quickly, he surveyed for an intruder, checking the closet, bathroom, and yes, under that damnable taunting bed. When he returned to the living area, he called out, “All clear,” and went to the window, using the curtain to shove it closed, intending to get finger prints later, if he decided the situation merited it.

She appeared at the end of the hallway, her lipstick smudged, her gorgeous green eyes wide with worry. Her gaze lowered to his weapon, then shifted to the curtain he’d pulled shut, dismissing his gun as if it were expected but then, she worked around law enforcement, so maybe it was to her. “Was my window open?”

“It was,” he confirmed and shoved his gun back into the holster at his calf. “But nothing’s out of order that I can see. Why don’t you take a look and be certain?”

She was already scanning and heading to the other room her bedroom where he wanted to follow her, but would not. He stayed by the window and waited until she returned, her shoes gone, and somehow that little detail made his c**k twitch. It was as erotic as if she had taken off much more. This woman got to him; she got to him in a bad way.

“Did maintenance have a reason to be in here?” he asked, stopping near the doorway to the bedroom in case she needed him, or so he told himself.

“No,” she said returning to the living area, stopping just in front of him. “Well, sometimes they do fire alarm inspections. Maybe it was something like that. But they shouldn’t have left it open. I’m calling them tomorrow to tell them so, too.”

He smiled. She was such a contradiction. All sweet and shy, but also feisty as hell.

She cleared her throat. “Um well. So. I guess we are… safe.” She hesitated. “Can I get you something? A drink? Something to eat?”

You. I want you. “I should go,” he said. “Before we both do something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

She stared at him a moment, then crossed her arms in front of herself protectively, as he’d seen her do before, withdrawing into herself. “I understand,” she said. “Thank you for… everything. And I’m sorry for your truck. And the fact that your picture will probably be in tomorrow’s paper.”

He knew right then that she thought he didn’t want her. If he let her believe that, she’d never let him inside these walls, or hers, ever again. And for reasons he didn’t try to understand, that had nothing to do with why he’d sought her out tonight, he couldn’t live with that.