She scowled right back at him. “Excuse me?”

  “You said last night that I’d laid out a bunch of reasons why we shouldn’t date.”

  “I did say that,” she agreed.

  “And then I came over here to apologize.”

  “Right.”

  “But I thought maybe we could just be friends.”

  “Spit it out, Spencer,” she said, exasperated.

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can just be friends with you.”

  “We’ve been getting along fine!” She gestured at the table with the burger bags and the cold case files. “You think my crows and candles are weird, but that’s okay. We can still spend time together.”

  “Not without me constantly thinking about how fucking amazing you smell and taste and sound when I kiss you!” He blew out a breath. “You’re driving me nuts and I don’t understand why.”

  Her eyes widened. She had, of course, known that he'd enjoyed the making out. She had not expected him to admit being so worked up over it though.

  She also hadn’t expected to be quite this delighted to know that it had been plaguing him too.

  “It was really good kissing,” she finally said.

  He nodded. “It was. But we drive each other crazy. We were drunk. And it doesn't seem like something between us could work out.”

  She nodded. All of that was true.

  “So why is it that ever since meeting you, my heart speeds up every time I see a woman with red hair? For almost a year, Max. And why do I read your articles all the time now, when before I barely knew who you were? And why do I feel a little surge of admiration, maybe even pride, when I do? And why am I now afraid that even though you didn't make me those cookies, and have no intention of ever making me cookies, and would probably make terrible cookies if you tried, every time I smell chocolate chip cookies from now on I'm going to think about you?”

  Max knew her eyes were as wide as they could go, and her breathing was faster than it should be for standing perfectly still next to her couch. But everything Spencer had just said had her heart racing and adrenaline pumping.

  Several beats passed.

  Finally, she said, “Well, maybe we should just stick to the part we know works.”

  “The part that works?” he asked.

  But rather than explain, she simply stepped close, slid onto his lap, straddled his thighs, ran her hands over his shoulders to the back of his head and into his hair, and kissed him.

  five

  The heat exploded between them instantly.

  Spencer's hands dropped to her hips, squeezing, then sliding lower to cup her ass, bringing her forward against his erection.

  The thin material of her lounge pants allowed her to feel the steely ridge behind his fly, and her nipples rejoiced at being able to press into his hard chest.

  She was right, too, that the buttons that held the blue cotton across that chest took her no time to unfasten, and soon she was running her palms over his hot bare skin and the hard planes of his shoulders, chest, and abs. She relished the way it made him shudder.

  “So you do have tattoos,” she said, running the pads of her fingers over the ink that decorated his left upper arm, shoulder, and shoulder blade.

  “Yeah.” His voice was husky.

  “I like them. I like that I had to strip you out of your uptight button-down shirt to see them. I like that you don’t seem like the tattoo type but—”

  “God, I love your hands on me.” He pulled her in, kissing her deeply. “Fuck,” he groaned as he dragged his mouth from hers, along her jaw, and down her neck. He paused at her collarbone, breathing in deeply. “You feel so damned good. You smell so damned good. I was trying so hard not to do this.”

  “Well, stop trying not to do it,” she told him breathlessly, tipping her head back so that he could drag his hot mouth up and down the front of her throat.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  He pulled back just enough to look up at her. “This is probably a bad idea.”

  “Oh, it is a bad idea,” she agreed.

  “So, we’re on the same page. Bad idea that we’re going to do anyway.”

  “Same page,” she said with a nod.

  She knew they didn't belong together. But this felt good. There was no reason for them not to do this. Neither of them was attached. They both knew what this was. And yeah, if he loved chocolate chip cookies and would smell them in the future and think of her, a tiny part of her liked that idea.

  Then she stopped having ideas. Because Spencer slipped his hands from her ass, up her back, and underneath her tank, drawing the material up and bunching it under her arms, exposing her breasts. He cupped her breasts as she shrugged out of her hoodie. Then he continued to strip the top over her head and toss it to the floor.

  “You look a lot better in cream and pink than in black,” he told her, his thumbs brushing over her nipples and making her whimper.

  She smiled at him. “You don't even like the way I dress?”

  “I prefer you undressed.” He lowered his head and took one of the stiff peaks into his mouth, licking and then sucking.

  She preferred herself undressed when Spencer was around, too, as it turned out.

  She arched her back and ground her hips forward, pressing more insistently against his fly.

  “More.”

  “This is foreplay,” he teased, switching sides and swirling his tongue around that nipple before sucking hard.

  She curled her fingers into his scalp, feeling her inner muscles clench hard.

  “Don't need a lot of that. We already had burgers and crime scene photos.”

  He chuckled against her breast. “Of course you would consider that foreplay.”

  “Well, and a criminal investigation last year and a wedding reception.”

  “You think we’ve been working up to this all that time?” He lifted his gaze to hers.

  She knew looking into those deep green eyes that the answer to that was absolutely yes.

  “I think the first time I walked into Ellie's bar looking for Caroline and assumed that you were hiding her from me, I figured you'd end up taking your clothes off for me,” Max told him. “So let's get on with it.”

  She reached between them for his fly, running her hand down his denim-encased cock.

  He groaned, and the hands at her waist squeezed.

  “Grab the condoms in my wallet.”

  She found them quickly and tossed the wallet onto the coffee table as she kept one of the foil packets in hand. He scooted her back on his lap, unbuttoning and unzipping, then working the denim and boxers over his hips to midthigh. That was all she needed. She reached for his impressive length, wrapping her hand around it and giving him a long stroke.

  “Max,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Just give me a second,” she told him as she stroked again, watching his smooth, hard length slide through her fist.

  “Before you go too far, you need to get rid of some clothes too,” he told her, his voice tight.

  Oh, yeah. She stood, quickly stripped off her pants and panties, and then returned to his lap.

  “Fuck, woman. You're gonna kill me.”

  She arched a brow. “What am I doing?”

  “Rushing. I’m not even getting a good look. Not to mention a good taste.”

  The next thing she knew, she was tipped onto her back on the sofa cushions next to her. Papers and photographs wrinkled underneath her, but she forgot all about them as soon as Spencer spread her knees and settled his big shoulders between her thighs.

  The back of the couch kept her left knee propped up, but Spencer used an elbow to spread her right knee open until her foot slid to the floor. One big hand cupped her ass while the other splayed across her belly.

  She was hot and so ready. She never in a million years would have imagined being in this position with this guy.

  Max lifted up on her elbows. “Wow, this is first-time stuff for you?”

  He looked up from where he had been carefully studying her pussy. She wasn't sure she'd even been so thoroughly examined at her last doctor's appointment.

  He gave her a smug grin. “Does it surprise you that I’m thorough?”

  No, it did not. “This just isn't common first-date treatment.”

  He shook his head. “The members of my gender can be so stupid.”

  She laughed lightly. “You don't have to, you know.”

  He kept his eyes on hers as he moved his hand from her ass to stroke up over her clit and then back down, sliding two fingers into her wet heat. She gasped. She felt the delicious tingles of the stroke, of course, but the way his eyes were locked on hers made it especially hot.

  “Oh, I have to,” he told her.

  He stroked again, watching her face. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and worked to hold his gaze. This was as intimate as she'd been with anyone in a very long time. Not just having him down there, but Spencer made it seem like there was not a single thought or emotion that she could think or feel that he wouldn’t know about.

  She felt incredibly vulnerable. And strangely okay with it.

  “I figure if I'm going to be thinking about you every time I smell a cookie,” he said, his voice gravelly, “you can think about me every time you sit on this couch.”

  “I sit on the couch every single day.” She couldn’t hide the breathlessness as he moved his fingers in and out in a rhythm that made her toes literally curl.

  “You have no idea how often I eat baked goods.”

  He picked up the pace slightly and added a thumb over her clit, and Max let her head fall back as the sensations rippled through her.

  “You also clearly have no idea how much I love every fucking thing about seeing you like this,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

  She could only imagine how she looked. Completely wanton. At his mercy. Totally helpless.

  The foot resting on the floor slid out, opening her even farther, and she whimpered. “Oh God, Spencer.”

  “Yeah, this is such a bad idea,” he muttered.

  Her head came up as he lowered his. His tongue replaced his thumb. He gave her clit a long lick as he continued to pump his fingers in and out. Then he sucked, and she gasped as an explosion of pleasure burst through her.

  Of course he was good at this too. Spencer Landry had this air of competence about him. As if everything he did had to turn out perfectly, and he was personally offended when something didn't go according to plan.

  If his goal had been to seduce her tonight, the project was going off without a hitch.

  If his intent when he’d flipped her to her back was to make her lose her mind and have one of the hardest orgasms of her life, he was right on track to accomplish that objective.

  His tongue moved over her clit in swirls that had her winding tighter with every pass until he finally sucked hard, and her orgasm crashed over her.

  “Spencer!” Her back arched off the couch, and she reached for his head, her fingers clutching his hair as waves of pleasure coursed through her.

  With a growl she couldn't completely decipher, he shifted away from her body. “Condom?” he asked tightly.

  She became aware that she was gripping the foil packet in one hand. She uncurled her fingers and offered it up to him.

  He took it, ripped it open, and rolled it on.

  “You ready for me?”

  She lifted her foot from the floor and wrapped it around his waist. “After that? I might just give you my crow ruby.”

  He was leaning above her, one hand braced on the back of the couch, one on the cushion beside her. She could feel his cock against her clit.

  “How about enchiladas?” he asked.

  “Well, let’s not be ridiculous.” She reached down and gripped his ass, pressing him closer.

  “You drive me nuts,” he muttered. But he followed that up with a nice, deep thrust.

  On the heels of her intense orgasm, he slid home easily. There was a stretch, but it was delicious and welcome and caused tingles to dance through her body, from her scalp to the tips of her toes. He could do that again and again.

  And he did. With a long groan, he pulled back and then sank deep again. Then again. And again.

  Every time felt better than the last. Her already-delighted nerve endings welcomed the friction, and her brain synapses that had just enjoyed an amazing orgasm said yes, more.

  “Goddamn, you feel good,” he said in a near growl as he flexed forward and pulled back.

  “God, same. Honestly, if you wanted to be incredibly cruel to me, you’d stop right now.”

  He thrust forward, deep and hard. “I couldn’t stop right now if the entire nation’s security depended on it.”

  For some reason, that was the hottest thing he could've said. Probably because she was weird. And because she knew this guy and his dedication to his job.

  Still, she brought both legs tighter around him, pressing her heels into his ass and making him stay deep as she clenched around him.

  “Dammit, Max.”

  “I know, this isn’t a good idea.”

  “It’s really not.”

  They might be very different people and never be able to work out as a couple, but at least they could agree that the sex was incredible and that this whole thing had been a mistake.

  “Want to feel you come again. Around my cock, this time,” he said roughly.

  “Good,” she said breathlessly. “I’m almost there.”

  That made him pick up the pace. He started thrusting faster, deeper, and harder.

  “Yes, Spencer, just like that.”

  “Max,” he said in a deep voice.

  She loved that right-on-the-edge tone.

  “You were not supposed to be this good.”

  She laughed softly. “Sorry.”

  He thrust again harder. “No, you’re not.”

  “Not even one bit.”

  He moved harder and faster, and she couldn’t get enough.

  She felt the imminent orgasm, and she clutched his back. “Spencer, I'm so close.”

  “Come on, Max. Come on.” It was clear he was speaking through gritted teeth.

  She felt the beginning ripples.

  “Of course fucking you is amazing,” he said roughly.

  It was probably the graphic language but also the fact that she was getting to him that sent her shooting over the peak. She cried out his name as her body clenched around him, and she came.

  “Yes!” he hissed as he thrust into her relentlessly, as if he’d just been waiting for that moment to let it all go. Finally, roaring her name as well, he came hard.

  He stayed braced above her for several seconds as they panted, trying to catch their breaths. Then he pushed himself up and headed into the bathroom.

  Max covered her eyes with her hand and worked on pulling oxygen into her lungs. “Well, fuck.”

  “Just what I was thinking.”

  She peered at him through her fingers. “So, we did that.”

  He strode toward her, his pants pulled back up on his hips, but his zipper still open. “We sure fucking did.”

  She pushed herself up to sitting and reached for her hoodie, slipping into it but not bothering to zip it. The guy had seen everything she had to show.

  “We wrinkled the crime scene photos,” he said as he dropped onto the end of the couch.

  She looked down. The crime scene photos were still under her butt, as a matter of fact.

  “Oops.” She shifted, pulling the folder from underneath her and tossing it on the coffee table.

  He shook his head. “You know, most women wouldn't have been in the mood for that after looking at those photos, not to mention being nonchalant about being fucked on top of them.”

  “Then most women aren’t properly caught up in the moment. So either you or they are doing something wrong.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Not that I’ve ever tried that with another woman and crime scene photos.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe you've been missing a key seduction technique.”

  He just sat looking at her for a moment. “I don't think so.”

  “Are you staying tonight?” she asked.

  “I haven't been invited.”

  She tipped her head. “Me inviting you to spend the night and you saying yes would be a terrible idea.”

  “It certainly would.”

  “Do you want to spend the night, Spencer?”

  “Yes, I do, Max.”

  six

  The next morning, as he headed out of her bedroom, she sleepily called from the bed, “Don't forget to take the cookies.”

  “You don't want me to leave them for you?” he asked, turning back.

  For fuck’s sake, the woman was sexy as hell, even first thing in the morning.

  She shook her head, her gorgeous hair moving like silk across the black—of course—pillowcase. “I don’t like cookies that much.”

  “You don't like—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “Okay.”

  She didn’t bake cookies, but she didn't even really like cookies? What the fuck was he doing here?

  Having the best fucking sex of your life. Four times. And wanting more right this second.

  Dammit.

  He turned to head for the front door again, not wanting to say anything about seeing her again.

  “You know, they never questioned Matthew’s parents as suspects.”

  He stopped and looked back with a frown. She was thinking about the cold case from last night? First thing in the morning? After the night they’d had? “His parents?” Spencer asked, despite all the other questions.

  She propped up on one elbow, the sheet almost falling away from her breasts.

  Spencer felt his body tighten as if she was lying there bare naked. He wanted her again. Right now. Even after having her, very well, in multiple positions.

  “Yeah. They asked them a few questions about what time he got home, his emotional state, appearance, stuff like that. But his parents should have been suspects.”

  And despite them talking about murder. And a pretty gruesome one at that.

  “Why do you think that?”

 

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