Page 101 of Brazen Criminals

Walker’s hand strokes up and down my side as I wait for him to answer. He presses a gentle kiss on the top of my head. “Do you think Bryce is a good guy?”

“Not really. Not anymore.”

“Do you think he deserves to go to jail?”

I shrug, not wanting to reveal the beast clawing its way between my ribs, this creature that wants to snack on Bryce’s liver. A creature, unknown and terrifying, scrabbling around my chest, hungry for blood. I’m fairly certain it’s always been there; I just never had a reason to let it out before now.

Walker stills his hand at my shrug, gripping gently at my waist. “Clara, he fucking sold sex tapes to some internet broker. Sex tapes you didn’t even know existed. And he’s into young girls. What kind of doctor was he going to be? What was his planned specialty?”

“Sports medicine,” I say, and shiver. I’ve had my share of sports injuries. As a teen athlete, I had a lot of time alone with doctors. If one of them had been sweet and good-looking like Bryce—God. I can see it.

I nod against his chest, ceding the point.

“Here’s the thing I’ve figured out, Clara. The police only go after the people who are dropped in their laps. Bryce could go his whole life and never get caught. No one would ever even look at him if he was careful. We’re doing the world a favor.”

Walker makes me look up at him, his hands moving from my waist to cradle my face. “And to make it even better, we’re getting something for ourselves out if it too. We’re getting back Trips and a measure of our anonymity.” Walker’s face stretches into his half grin, and I press against him, Jansen still warm against my back.

I want to kiss him. I could totally kiss him. But what about Jansen?

What about RJ?

And who the fuck knows what to do about Trips?

I brush my nose against his lips, wondering if he has the same thoughts I do. His half smile morphs, his lips pressing against my nose, then my mouth. I sigh into the kiss, melt into the warmth, the trust, the safety here in this moment.

We just kiss, his hands holding my face like I’m something precious, my own hands locked between our bodies, my fingers flat against his chest, the softda-dum da-dumof his heart playing under my fingertips.

Jansen stirs behind me, and I stiffen. Shit.

Walker pulls back just enough that our lips aren’t quite touching, his eyes barely open as he brushes his thumb across my cheek.

Jansen catches my waist, a soft kiss touching the side of my neck. “Morning,” he murmurs.

I freeze.

What do I do? What do I say? What happens if they fight? If they decide they don’t want me? If they storm out of here and never talk to me again? How in the world did I get to this point with both of them at basically the same time?

Shit.

Walker doesn’t move his hands from my cheeks, so I can’t turn to see if Jansen is really awake or not. Maybe he’s still asleep and this won’t be a big deal.

There’s a second kiss, followed by a nibble on my ear. A gasp escapes, entirely unintentionally. Shit shit shit.

I risk looking up into Walker’s eyes, and what I see doesn’t make any sense. He’s staring at me, but his gaze is full of curiosity rather than rage. One eyebrow is slightly raised as Jansen pulls my earlobe into his mouth with a gentle tug, making my pelvis tilt forward into Walker, pressing against his hardening erection. He grins.

“I think she likes that,” he says, glancing over my shoulder at Jansen. I wish I could see him too. This is suddenly so much more, and honestly better, than I’d imagined—God, I hope I didn’t just fuck shit up.

Jansen’s hand slips under my shirt, a finger tracing around my belly button. “I’d hoped she would,” he says behind me, another nuzzled kiss against my neck, followed by a swipe of his tongue around the lobe of my ear, and I’m pretty sure I’ve turned into a puddle. All of me tingles.

Walker takes my mouth, his tongue dancing with mine, while Jansen licks and nibbles down my neck, the two of them working together to tug my shirt off. Once I’m topless, Jansen continues soft kisses over my shoulder, across my back, and I’m panting, trying to keep my head above water while all these sensations try to pull me under. My fingers trace over Walker’s chest, a delicious expanse of ridges and valleys.

Walker lets go of my face, a hand trailing down my neck to my breast, his fingers teasing one nipple, around and around, and the combination of kisses, touches, and nibbles down my back swamps me. My eyes flutter closed. Walker sucks my lip into his mouth, nipping at it, and I arch into him. Jansen’s hand drifts across my stomach to the top of my sleep shorts, slowly sliding under the waistband, nudging them down until I kick them off myself, eager to see where this will lead.

Jansen’s fingers trace the lines of my panties, and my skin is electric. Walker pulls back from my mouth, shifting away from me, lower in the bed, his mouth latching onto the nipple he was just teasing, and my moan drowns out all other sounds.

The brush of Walker’s lips against me, both his hands playing with my breasts, has pleasure flooding my brain, and I forget how to breathe. I dig my hands into his hair, urging him to stay, to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. Jansen chuckles behind me before slipping his hand into my panties, inching down until his fingers brush along my slit one, two, three times before two fingers plunge in. My moan is ragged, my body overwhelmed by too many hands, too much sensation. Perfection.

Jansen curls his fingers just right before pulling them out and thrusting them back in, setting a driving rhythm while pressing the heel of his hand down on my clit and rocking against it. Walker laps around my nipple before biting down, teasing, and I shudder. Jansen laughs, his voice hoarse. “Whatever you just did, do it again. She’s fucking drenched,” he says.

---