Page 195 of Irreversible

What I’m already planning to do again.

Laughing with the endorphin high, she flings an arm over her eyes. “I’m exhausted.”

“Fine.” I collapse onto the mattress next to her, wrapping a hand lightly around her throat. I turn her toward me, claiming her swollen lips one last time. “I guess I can allow a quick breather before round two.”

45

The phone buzzes on the bedside table like an angry wasp. I send a glare in its direction, too fascinated by the spiral curl currently wrapped around my finger to care. The languid warmth of Everly’s bare skin against mine makes it hard to stay awake, a cocktail of post-sex endorphins still buzzing beneath my skin. When she sighs against my chest, snuggling like she can burrow into me, I allow myself to enjoy it.

Just for a few more minutes…

Tanner can wait. So can murderous sociopaths, and the entire damn world, for that matter. Let it all burn down around us.

Christ, this isn’t like me.

She dozes like that for an hour or more, the steady rhythm of her breathing soaking into me until I begin to drift, too. But I can’t afford to let my guard down. Any minute, the whole world can shift—this is a lesson I’ve learned the hard way, and I can’t afford to get distracted. The stakes are too high.

She saves me from waking her by rolling over, balling up under the comforter like a contented cat. The buzzing has gone quiet, my lone contact finally getting the hint, so I jump from the bed and retreat to the shower.

Beneath the driving pulse of scalding water, I relive the past several hours. Everly on her knees, her hot mouth enveloping me. Her pale skin illuminated by the slivers of moonlight peeking through the blinds as layers of clothing slid off her body. The way she felt, writhing on my lap. Like I’m the only man she’ll ever dance for again—the only one who matters. The sounds she?—

“What the hell isthis?”

I pull my face from the stream and look down. My cock is in my hand, fully erect despite the multiple orgasms it delivered last night. It pulses at the sound of Everly’s voice, oblivious to her tone.

Or maybe the potential of her anger is exciting. It’s a sadistic fucker sometimes.

The shower curtain is ripped open violently, leaving steam to fill the room. With the water still streaming in rivulets over my body, I look at her.

My phone is in her hand, the screen lit with a name.

Tanner.

Should have kept him listed as Dickhead.

Dammit, here we go.

“That’s nothing,” I say casually, knowing she won’t buy it. “Wrong number.”

“Okay, great. I’ll tell him.” With a cold smile, she slides her finger over the screen to answer and taps the speaker symbol. “Hello,Tanner.”

“Shit,” he says, and hangs up.

She plants one hand on her hip, her voice as venomous as her glare. “Explain.”

“We’re friends.” I shrug, pulling a towel off the rack and wrapping it around my waist. Since I’m not entirely sure how this conversation is going to go, there are some parts of my anatomy it would be wise to protect.

“You’re friends,” she repeats, her tone flat.

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to find Vincent since he escaped the bust. Tanner passed the information he’d gathered to me.” It’s not technically a lie, just a little out of order. I grab a second towel and use it to dry the rest of my body.

“You’ve been…” Her brows bend inward for a second, and when her eyes widen, I know all hell is about to break loose. “Oh my God, he was right.”

Dammit. I’m not ready to deal with this.

“It’s no big deal.” Stepping out of the shower and around her, I leave the bathroom.

“Wait a minute.” She follows me, piecing the subtext together as she goes. “Tanner’s a detective.”

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