Page 46 of Guarded Secrets
Why that conjured images in his head of Keeley in the midst of an orgasm he’d orchestrated, god only knew.
The single ounce of self-preservation he’d managed to retain was yelling in his head to fucking knock it off.
Not only was Sawyer sitting outside probably thinking of the best way to castrate him, but Keeley deserved better than to be jerked around by a guy who could never be what she deserved.
“Fuck, Keeley. No, not fuck. Wrong word.”
Her response of “yes, please” ping-ponged around in his head to accompany another round of erotic images of a naked Keeley. He shook his head to clear it. “Never mind. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let things get this far.”
Perfectly arched brows lowered over hazel eyes. “Ikissedyou, Owen. I’m the one who initiated whatever this is. And I’m perfectly fine with how far things have gone. In fact, I’m pretty sure I indicated I’d be happy if they went farther.”
“Right. Sure. But they can’t. We can’t.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.
“You weren’t acting like kissing me was a chore. Or like having your hands on my breasts was distasteful. In fact,” she glanced at his crotch where things had yet to subside, “evidence suggests you enjoyed what happened as much as I did.”
He turned away so he wouldn’t have to lie to her face. “That’s a physical reaction.”
“I see. You’d have responded like that with any woman.”
“Right. Yeah.”
“You’re such an asshole. And a liar.” Keeley pushed herself off the counter. “At least I can admit I have feelings for you and feelgood about it. You say you like me then have a freakout when we actually do what people with a mutual attraction do.”
“I’ve been clear I don’t have relationships. Sure, I like you, but that doesn’t change anything.”
Asshole that he was, he shoved away from the sink and strode out of the house.
***
Jerk.Keeley stood in her kitchen.Sure, I like you.Who says that? She rubbed her forehead with a balled-up fist, then winced when it pulled at the stitches.
What the heck had just happened?
She’d gone with the impulse and kissed him, and, oh boy, had Owen responded.
She’d put that kiss right up there as the number one kiss of all kisses she’d ever experienced.
He’d been into it until it seemed his brain had caught up with his body and he’d slammed on the brakes. Of course he could say no, his feelings didn’t have to match hers. But that’s not what she got from him. Something was holding him back, and he wasn’t willing to explain.
Deciding she couldn’t do anything about the situation in that moment, she refilled her coffee mug and picked up the plate with her egg sandwich and carried both out to the patio.
Sawyer was on his phone sounding like he was wrapping up a call while Owen sat in his chair, a scowl on his face and arms crossed over his chest. She gave him her sunniest smile for the express purpose of messing with him.
Sawyer tossed his phone on the table and leaned back in his chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and released a sigh that sounded like it came from the depths of his soul. He dropped his hand and said, “That was a detective from Sacramento PD. A woman’s body’sbeen found buried under trash in a dumpster behind an office building.”
His gaze zeroed in on Keeley. “Her clothing matches the description you gave of your assailant last night. Medium height, medium frame, blue fleece jacket, and blue and green New Balance shoes.”
Keeley set down her sandwich, nausea suddenly making her stomach roll.
Owen swore under his breath.
She licked her lips and asked, “How was she killed?”
“Preliminarily, it looks like head trauma. Rigor had set in already when the body was found by an individual searching for recyclables around seven a.m. That puts the time of death a minimum of two hours before that.”
“Have the police ID’d her?” Owen asked.
Sawyer nodded slowly. “She had her phone in her pocket, ID in the phone case. Photo on the driver’s license matches the body. Forty-two years old, lived in the Sacramento suburb of Carmichael. Her name is Pamela Lynn Demaris.”
