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Her words hit the mark, making me feel like shit. “I’m sorry, Lana, but I can’t give details on an open investigation."
She leans closer, her scent enveloping me. It's intoxicating, and I have to fight to keep my thoughts clear. "Then why am I here, Henry?"
I swallow hard, trying to maintain my composure. I can feel the heat radiating from her body, see the flecks of gold in her amber eyes. Lana's proximity is maddening, challenging every ounce of my resolve. She’s inches away, and I feel like she’s daring me, but I’m not sure to do what? Reveal details of the case? Fuck her?
We’re playing a dangerous game of chicken, and I’m precariously close to crashing into her.
I swallow hard, using all my strength to keep from kissing her, to keep from stripping her clothes off and sinking into her luscious body. "Why are you here?"
Her gaze slides to my lips and then back to my eyes. "Because I thought I could trust you." She starts to pull away. "Turns out I can't."
She turns away, her body language screaming disappointment and betrayal. I feel a pang of guilt at the pain in her eyes. I realize I'm losing whatever tenuous connection we've built, and that can’t happen. I tell myself it’s for the case, but deep down, it’s for me.
I reach out and take her hand, gently tugging her back to the couch. "You can trust me. You have to trust that even if I can’t give you all the information, I’m going to look for your brother.” A desperation to make her understand this, to make her stay, claws in my gut. I press my hand to her cheek. “I will find him,Lana. I’ll find him for you. I promise.” It’s not a promise I should make. For all I know, Lazaro is dismembered and at the bottom of the river, impossible to find. But the need for her to trust me burns in my gut. It burns so hot that the only next move I can think to make is to lean in and capture her lips in mine to make her understand that I mean what I say.
The moment my lips touch hers, something detonates inside me. It’s fierce and hot and out of control. For an instant, I see my career going up in smoke. But then her lips part, inviting me in, and the only thing that matters in this world is this moment. This woman.
9
LANA
I’m not a hussy or femme fatale, despite how it might seem. Sure, I’ll use charm or flirting to get what I want, but not sex. So I really shouldn’t be kissing Henry. Sure, he’s a good-looking man. He’s smart, clever, and interesting. I enjoy bantering with him. But that’s all been to manage him and his investigation into my family. Tonight, it was about learning about Lazaro, which wasn’t anything at all.
The minute Henry’s lips touch mine, everything changes. The flirtatious attraction morphs into an inferno of desire. It feels out of control. I’m not a woman who is led around by her libido. I don’t sleep with men as a matter of course or to get my way. Not that I’m a virgin. I’ve had a few men I’ve dated, but they never held my interest for long. And none of them made me feel like I might spontaneously combust.
I kiss him back, and that only adds fuel to the fire. Around me, the energy snaps, crackles, and pops. He groans. Or maybe it’s me. He sets our glasses on the coffee table and then tugs me close again. Our lips fuse again, and Henry’s hands roam my body. He pulls my camisole from my waistband and slides his hands along my skin, and I nearly purr in response. Soon, mytop is off, the front clasp of my bra undone, and his hands are on my breasts, then his lips.
“Oh, God.” I surrender to him even as the warning bells clang in my head. He’s a cop. He’s investigating my family. I should stop, but I can’t.
He pushes me back, tugging my skirt up. His fingers slide along the panel of my panties before pushing it aside and rubbing over my clit as his lips suck on my nipple.
I gasp and arch into his touch. “Yes… more…”
Henry comes off as a straightlaced, by-the-books sort of man. One who’d have a vanilla sort of sex. But his touch is like sticking my finger in a light socket. My body is lit up from the inside out as he sucks and laps at my nipple and his fingers, slick with my essence, slide inside my body.
I want to touch him too. To feel the heat of his skin. To feel him inside me. But I’m lost in his ministrations. All I can do is give in to the sensations until pleasure rocks through me. I rock underneath him as my orgasm overtakes me.
“Fuck… yes,” he murmurs against my breast. He pushes himself lower on my body, tugging my panties off and settling his shoulders between my thighs.
“Henry.” What I want is for him to fuck me. But that request is lost as his mouth devours my pussy. I cry out as a new shock of electricity courses through me. He licks and laps and sucks until I’m a writhing mess. My pussy is burning up.
His hands settle on my inner thighs, opening me wider to him. His tongue slides inside me, flicking along the sensitive walls.
“Oh, God… Henry…” I’m teetering on the brink again. I can barely breathe as need coils tighter and tighter.
“Come, Lana. I want to drink you up.” His thumb brushes over my clit as his tongue fucks me. Pleasure crashes through me again, making my body tremble.
He slides up my body, kissing me hard, desperate as he reaches between us to undo his pants.
“I want a turn.” I push at him, and we end up tumbling off the couch onto the floor.
I laugh. “Oops.”
He tugs me down, kissing me again. I’ve never had a man kiss with such intensity. It scrambles my brain.
“My turn,” I say again, straddling him and trying to wrangle control. I unbutton his shirt, running my hands over a chest that is harder, more sculpted than I anticipated. I lean over, licking his nipple, loving the hiss of breath it forces from him. I undo his pants and push them along with his boxer briefs down strong thighs.
His dick springs free, and again, I’m pleasantly surprised. It’s long. Really long.
