Page 151 of Buried Too Deep

Maybe it was the stress, maybe the momentary euphoria of discovered treasure.

Or maybe it was just Cora Jane Winslow.

“Careful,” he muttered when he missed a step and they stumbled. He grabbed her close with one arm and gripped the handrail with his free hand, stopping them from plummeting to the landing below. “Don’t want to break our necks before we can finish this.”

Whatever this was. All he knew was that her body was pressed to his, her breasts soft against his chest and her arms linked tightly around his neck.

She laughed, a joyous sound. “Sorry. A little. But only a little.” She slowed down, though, sliding her hands from around his neck down his chest, clutching his hand, tugging him down the remaining stairs to the landing where SodaPop waited patiently.

The dog trotted over to the wall where they’d slept the night before, dropping to her belly and curling up in a golden ball of fur. Such a good girl.

Still holding Cora’s hand, he threaded his hand through her curls and crashed their mouths together again, savoring her little moan. He wanted more of that sound. He wanted her looking up at him with dazed eyes, seeing nothing but him.

He pulled back, searching her face expectantly, and exhaled, releasing the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying. There was the look he’d hoped to see.

Like he was the only person in the world.

She tilted her head. “If you want to stop—”

He kissed her hard. “Not unless you do.”

“No,” she whispered, then grinned wickedly. “But we have to be quiet.”

“Where?” he asked simply.

She tugged him again, this time down the hall and into her room. She clucked her tongue and SodaPop followed them in, curling up once again on the braided rug next to her bed.

“Is this okay?” Cora asked, hesitation clouding her eyes.

“Perfect.” He kissed her again, his heart pounding even harder when she began to tug his T-shirt from his jeans.

He’d need to take SodaPop out, but his dog could wait a little while. He’d walked her only a few hours before. He also needed to check the locks.

That couldn’t wait. “Stay here. Don’t move.”

He stepped back, headed for the windows. He tested the locks on the windows, then the door to the balcony just as the last of Burke’s crew was pulling out of the driveway. Only Molly’s big red truck remained.

Phin wished they could be completely alone, but Cora was safe and that was all that mattered. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out to check, just in case it was something he needed to do.

It was from Stone. Delores says to check your wallet. For the record, I didn’t know anything about this.

Frowning, Phin did as he was told, then blushed when he saw the condom tucked behind his cash. Delores, you naughty girl.

He returned to where Cora stood, just as he’d left her. A smile curved her lips. “Everything locked tight?”

“You’re safe, Cora Jane.”

“I know.”

Then his mind cleared of everything when her hands slipped under his shirt, touching his bare skin. “Cora,” he whispered.

She glanced up at him through her lashes. “Is this okay?”

“Still perfect.” He stroked her curls from her face. “What do you want?”

She drew in a breath. “I want to keep feeling good. I want you to feel good. And I want to feel you. Against me.” She exhaled. “In me.” She nodded once, resolutely. “That’s what I want.”

“That’s a very good answer, Cora Jane.”

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