Page 5 of Missing Justice
“I think you owe me some mind-blowing sex in order to make it up to me,” Taylor said, kicking off her shoes.
Matt let her skirt drop and then he shoved her unbuttoned shirt off her shoulders. For a moment, he stood still, his eyes raking over her from head to toe.
Taylor sucked in a breath, pulling in her abdomen at the same time. Total vanity, but she couldn’t help the reaction. She wanted the man in front of her to continue thinking she was the brainiest, sexiest woman in the place.
He reached out and touched the satin of her bra, brushing his knuckles against her tight nipples and whistling softly. “You are stunning, Agent Sinclair.”
Taylor sat on the bed and reached for the zipper of his slacks. “Bring it on, Mad Dog.”
* * *
Ringing phone.
Matt opened his eyes to a ray of light slipping through the curtains. He stared at the back of a very attractive blonde head, but focused on the sound of a ringing cell phone.
Not his.
Good. Because his extremely engorged dick had plans that didn’t include phones.
He might do some talking, but it wouldn’t be on the phone.
He locked one leg over Taylor and tightened his arm around her waist. Jesus. They’d slept like this? All wrapped up? When it came to getting a solid night’s rest, being a decent sized guy, he needed space. A lot of it. Particularly in crappy hotel beds.
Taylor’s arm shot out, her hand blindly searching for the still-ringing phone on the bedside table. The glare of the digital clock announced the time to be 6:43.
“Ignore it,” he croaked.
“Can’t. Boss’s ringtone.”
“Then I’d definitely ignore it.”
He bit the back of her shoulder, nudged closer, bringing that badass erection flush against the curve of her ass, leaving no doubt what he—and it—had on their minds.
“That’s a healthy beast you’re sporting there, Mad Dog. Now shut up while I talk to my boss.”
At that, he laughed. This woman. From the first day he’d met her, back when he’d supposedlystolenher case, he’d had a thing for her. An undefinable yearning that left him wanting to…possess. And that was also unusual. Women weren’t objects to own. He’d lectured his buddies on this fact for years, but at thirty-three, he’d suddenly found a woman who challenged, cajoled, and rattled him enough that he’d fantasized about pinning her to a mattress and bringing a smile to her face.
Which he’d done three times last night.Here’s hoping for a fourth.
She cleared her throat and poked at the phone. “Good morning, Mer.”
Matt busied himself by pulling her closer and nibbling on the back of her shoulder blade. Was he being an idiot? Sure. But Taylor getting a call before seven a.m. meant something was cooking and being the dedicated civil servant she was, she’d look to hightail it from this bed before he had the chance to put that fourth smile on her face.
The nibbling? Hopefully she’d see it as the prelude to what could be a fantastic morning.
“Yes,” she said. “I understand. I’ll be there.”
Matt stopped nibbling. Dammit.
She tossed the phone on the nightstand. “I have to go.”
“Okay.”
But he didn’t loosen his hold. He did abandon his nibbling campaign, opting for a full attack of licking.
She let out a soft moan and his hard-on became painful. How many times had she moaned like that last night? When he was so deep inside her and still wanted more.
“Matt, I can’t. I have to—”
