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“I know that,” I sighed. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Eyeing both men in case this was some strange joke, I slowly lowered to the floor. On my knees, I looked up at him through my dark lashes and waited.

Only for my mouth to dry out at the dark expression I found on his face.

My heart kicked into overdrive, hammering against my chest as heat licked beneath my skin. This was so not the time to be this turned on, but it was a visceral response. There was no stopping the way my core fluttered, or the desperation of wanting him to weave those thick fingers into my hair, guiding me exactly where he wanted. Too many times, this happened in my dreams. Him standing over me, ordering me to do whatever he said. Which I did, oh so willingly.

And now with the bonus of Jameson watching.

Maybe joining.

With a curse, he jerked around, breaking our heated stare and putting his back to me. All the hope and desire that had swelled within me with his hooded green eyes directed at me turned to lead and dropped in my gut, making my stomach roll. I flicked a worried look to Jameson, who leaned against the doorframe, lips pursed as if he were annoyed.

Forcing a wide smile, I cleared my throat.

“Now what?” I asked, tone as raw as I felt on the inside. I probably looked pitiful staring up at him with hearts in my eyes and a blush flaming across my cheeks.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jameson muttered, now glaring at Slade.

“Lie on your back and I’ll show you what I’m thinking.”

Jameson popped off the doorframe and sauntered deeper into the office, falling onto the couch. “Well, this just got interesting. You okay, Raindrop?”

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head as I lay down, wiggling until I was as comfortable as I could be on my office floor with two sexy men watching my every move.

“I thought we agreed in Nashville that was a terrible nickname.”

“No,yousaid it was terrible. I like it.”

My hair rasped along the thick rug when I rolled my head so I could study Slade as he moved to stand over me.

“This would be better on a bed,” he mused.

“Not much of an exhibitionist?” Jameson quipped, making me smile as some of the embarrassment and dejection faded away.

“I’ll admit I’ve never been much for doing anything on the floor,” I said, adding my opinion to the mix. “Too hard on your back.”

Slade just blinked while Jameson’s grin grew, turning almost catlike. “Then maybe you needed someone under you.”

I tilted my head, brows pulled in tight. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Does to me.” Jameson shot me a wink before turning his attention to Slade, all humor gone. “Get this circus back on track there, Detective. Why is Dr. Evans on the floor?”

“Do you trust me?” Slade rasped. I nodded, unable to form words as he slowly lowered. The insides of his knees pressed against the outside of my shins, holding my legs together. “Imagine you’re in the same level of pain as this morning’s victim.” I dipped my chin. Though the pain would be hard to recreate, I somewhat understood what most nervous systems and impulses came with that kind of pain from school. “Now try to fight back.”

Keeping my focus on not moving my back or my core, because of the wounds there, I thrashed on the floor. Two large hands gripped my thighs, keeping them secured to the floor like his legs were doing lower. When I swiped at him, doing anything I could to get free, he snatched my hands and pressed both to either side, keeping his hold loose enough to not bruise.

I stilled.

“You think this is how the killer kept a hundred-and-fifty-pound man pinned to the bed?” Jameson mused.

“There has to be a reason there are no defensive wounds. Even if the pain was incredible, his adrenaline would’ve been pumping and given him a boost. Not much of one, but long enough to get a hit or two in.”

“This won’t work.” My gaze flicked from where Slade hovered over me to where Jameson now crouched by my head. Reaching out, he moved a rogue hair from across my eye, the tenderness in the touch sparking a need I didn’t realize was there deep in my chest. “You’re a mammoth, Slade, and she’s not the same size as our victims. Let’s switch.”

Pointing at Slade, Jameson snapped his fingers and gestured for him to stand. Once Slade was up, Jameson reached down to help me off the floor.

“Switch places?” I said, rolling my shoulders to ease the stiffness. Not only from lying on the floor but being hunched over the victim for the last several hours, looking for trace evidence and performing the autopsy. I needed to get to the gym to work some of this stiffness out, but there hadn’t been time recently. An uptick in homicides would do that to an ME’s downtime.

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