Page 16 of Embrace Me Darkly

“—Homeland swooped in and took over. It’s bullshit, sir.” Sara held the phone to her ear as she paced the short distance from one side of her condo to the other as Porter’s voicemail listened patiently at the other end of the line. “And I logged into the docket when I got home. They’ve done the same thing in over a dozen cases in the last year alone. Taking over murder investigations where there is absolutely no basis for Federal jurisdiction, and if we just put up with it—”

A sharpbeeeeeepinterrupted, signaling that the message had cut off, and she cursed. She considered calling the DA back, but she’d already told Porter everything she knew. At this point, she was just venting.

With another soft curse, she tossed her phone onto the bed, then went into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. It was almost one in the morning, but she was too worked up to sleep, and she knew the wine would help relax her. Some, anyway.

She took it with her as she headed into the bathroom, stripped, then took a quick shower—just long enough to rinse the day off and leech some of the chill out of her bones. Not from the cool night air, but from what she’d seen. Braddock’s pale face. The ragged wound on his neck.

And, in her mind, her father with a similar gaping wound.

She closed her eyes, then pressed her forehead against the tiles, letting the waves of sadness and loss wash over her. Her mother had always been distant, but her dad … well, her dad had been her best friend.

No.

The word rang sharp in her thoughts. She was not going to roll around in grief. Not now.

Instead, she turned off the water, dried off, then slipped on her bathrobe. She stepped out of the tiny steam-filled room and into the main area, taking a sip of her wine as she moved toward the sliding glass door. The rain had started again, and so she kept the door closed then turned off the overhead light so that the only illumination came from the cityscape.

A mist had gathered on her porch, swirling on her balcony. She watched it, mesmerized with the way it seemed to move, not with the wind, but in spite of it. She took the final sip of her wine, then turned to set her glass on the small table by the balcony door. As she did, something flickered in her peripheral vision.

Luke.

She moved closer to the glass, chastising herself as she did. She was on the twenty-fifth floor. Of course, Luke wasn’t standing outside. And yet somehow she could feel him. The remnant of an attraction she hadn’t expected, but seemed so familiar. As if something lost had been found.

She drew in a breath, then untied the belt and shrugged the robe off her shoulders. It pooled at her feet, leaving her naked in front of the door. This high, there was no one to see her, and yet she felt deliciously exposed. Watched.

Turned on.

She knew she should pick her robe back up, turn away, and ignore whatever erotic fantasy had started to play out in her mind. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. Something about Luke had called to her in a way that was both new and familiar. And the disappointment when he’d left had been a visceral thing. Like losing a limb.

She’d lost the thrill of his hands on her earlier tonight, but she could still have the pleasure. The fantasy.

With a soft breath, she closed her eyes, then slid her hands down over her body as she imagined that he was out there, standing on the balcony, craving her. His own body hardening in response as he watched and wanted. The fantasy was intense. Desperately real. And as her hands stroked her breasts—as her palms grazed her sensitive nipples—she gasped, so caught up in the fantasy that her legs could no longer support her.

Unsteady, she moved forward until she reached the door, then pressed her palm against the glass to steady herself. In her mind’s eye, she saw him lost in the mist, his eyes fixed on her, his expression rapturous as she slid her free hand down her belly, then lower still to find the slick heat between her legs.

She swallowed a moan, her neck arching back as she teased her clit, imagining his touch. His fingers. His mouth. She wanted him kneeling before her, his hands steadying her hips as his tongue sucked and teased. In her fantasy, he removed one of his hands from her hip, then thrust his fingers hard inside as his tongue continued to tease and torment until her knees buckled. And in the moment that she cried out Luke’s name, her body shook, the orgasm that crashed over her sending her tumbling to the ground in a wash of wild, pure ecstasy.

Slowly, Sara opened her eyes, surprised to find that she really was on the floor, her body tingling. She closed her eyes, suddenly self-conscious. A ridiculous emotion since she’d been her only witness. But still, to lose herself like that to a man she’d met only once. A man who wasn’t even there.

A man she might never see again.

She pushed the thought away, then climbed to her feet, clutching the robe. She started to put it on, then froze.Why?Why should she feel self-conscious in her own apartment? Hell, that had been a better orgasm than she’d had with most of the men she used to drag home, desperately trying to burn off some wild energy she didn’t understand.

Own it.

She glanced once more at the balcony. The mist was gone. The moon hung low in the sky, as if skimming the top of the downtown high-rises.

She smiled, then let the robe fall back onto the floor before striding naked to the bed and, hopefully, to a slumber filled with dreams of Luke.

ChapterSix

Afine mist swirled lazily twenty floors below Sara’s balcony. At almost two in the morning, the deck was empty. Then the mist grew thicker, easing into the shape of a man.

When he was whole, Lucius Dragos sat hard on the raised edge of the hot tub, his constant craving for Sara on overdrive after what he’d just witnessed. And his name on her lips had only intensified that hunger.

Luke.He closed his eyes with the memory, his body tightening with longing.

He had only himself to blame. He should never have started this. Should never have watched her from the shadows all those months ago, and he certainly shouldn’t have let her catch sight of him. It wasn’t carelessness, though; he was far too good at his job for that. No, Luke’s sin had been a combination of greed and hubris. He wanted her, plain and simple. Had craved her for years.

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