Page 39 of Draven

Voices drift along on the breeze, getting closer, their accents local. Two men. No, make that three. One of them laughs at something another says, the sound easily traveling in the quiet of the night.

Draven holds his forefinger to his lips. I nod, though my breathing is labored. I try to hold it, afraid they’ll hear me. The first man comes briefly into view, followed closely by the other two.

Don’t look right. Keep focusing straight ahead. Nothing to see here.

I get my wish. The men pass, their footsteps growing faint until I can no longer hear them.

I purse my lips, controlling the flow of air from my lungs. “Close call,” I whisper. “Our guys?”

“No. Probably just workers on a late shift.”

Draven inches his way out of the gap and peers to his right to make sure the men have definitely gone. He glances over his shoulder, gives me a curt nod, then resumes the lead on our systematic search. Another thirty minutes pass with no sign of Shala’s car. We’ve covered a good proportion of the plot but still have maybe a third to go. It’s then that I see it. The black limo parked up between two warehouses.

“There.” I point, relief whooshing from my lungs. “But which one?”

“No way of knowing,” he murmurs.

“Fuck. Well, we can’t break cover until we know for sure.”

I tuck myself into a gap between two warehouses opposite where Shala’s limo is parked. They should give us cover of darkness but allow his car and both buildings to remain in sight. Draven slides in beside me. There’s a little more room here than our previous hiding place, but not much.

I shiver, more from anxiety than a chill. If there’s even a one percent chance that Kiera’s inside either of those warehouses, to have her so close yet still so far away is worse than torture. The big sister in me wants to storm in there, slit the throats of anyone who gets in my way, and rescue Kiera from their revolting clutches. As a police detective, I know that patience is the name of the game, and the option most likely to have a positive outcome. It doesn’t make the waiting any easier, though.

“C’mere.” Draven wraps his burly arms around me.

Once again, his unexpected kindness takes me by surprise, but I almost push him away. I’m tired of the constant head-fuckery of his wild mood swings, yet his solid body and the heat pouring off him has me snuggling closer. Tucking my hands inside his leather jacket, I run my hands up his back. He shifts, the muscles rippling with the movement. He rests his chin on top of my head, and an involuntary sigh falls from my lips.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Hold that thought, Lola. It’s coming, and so are you.”

Knots coil in my stomach, and a raft of butterflies flap their wings against my insides. He’s made it perfectly clear what his plans are when this is all over. And I want to… God do I want to, but I can’t shake the niggle that Draven still holds a deep-seated grudge against me, and I wouldn’t put it past him to use sex as a weapon—a way of dishing out the punishment he still believes I deserve.

He shuffles his feet, mashing our lower halves together, and his rigid erection presses against my stomach. Bending his knees, he circles his hips, making direct contact with my clit. He only does it once, but it’s enough to send a jolt of electricity zinging right through me.

I moan quietly and press my thighs together, trying to stave off the instinct to tilt my pelvis and rub up against him to get the release I so desperately need.

Draven has no such restraint. He grips my hips and grinds his erection into me, almost lazily, hitting the target every single time. I close my eyes, my head lolling back, relishing wave after wave of pleasure, the likes of which I haven’t experienced in so long.

In forever, actually.

I’m close. So close.

Kiera!

What the hell are you doing?

I snap open my eyes and wriggle out of his grasp, enraged with him, and with myself for succumbing so easily to his touch. My gaze shoots to the warehouses, then to Shala’s car, but there’s no movement. Relief swamps me. If we’d missed our chance because of?—

“Do you ever let yourself go, Lola?”

“Yes,” I hiss, resenting the insinuation. “But not when we’re supposed to be on a stakeout with my sister’s life on the line.”

“I may be a man, but I can multitask. I had it under control. You closed your eyes, but I had mine wide open.”

“Is that what that was about? A way of proving you can do more than one thing at a time?”

Draven comes up behind me, his breath warm on the back of my neck. He slips his arms around my waist, resting his chin on the top of my head, but I don’t have the mental strength to push him away. Dammit, I don’t want to push him away.

“I bet you come fast,” he murmurs. “Should make for a fun night when I finally get you into my bed.”

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