Page 117 of A Story of Love

Fast shook his head. “So…Garcia didn’t have it, and it wasn’t in Jensen’s belongings. And—if Moreland’s brute Carey is to be believed—Moreland doesn’t have it, either.”

“Maybe there was no confession?” Gregg suggested.

Fast had considered that, too. “Well, that doesn’t much matter any longer. Without Jensen, the confession would lack conviction. “I wonder if Moreland knows that Jensen is dead,” he mused, his mind speedily waking up.

“I can’t imagine how,” Gregg said. “If Garcia—or somebody he was working with—killed him then the last thing he would have wanted to do was tell Moreland about it.”

“I agree. Let’s send him a letter. If he knows Jensen is dead, then it can’t make matters worse. But if he doesn’t know, we might be able to lure him out.”

Gregg nodded. “What do you want me to write?”

“Say that Jensen just arrived in London and has the confession in his possession. And that he was supposed to sell it to me, but that he has changed his mind because Moreland has his sister.”

“I’ll do it right away,” Gregg said. “Anything else?”

Fast shook his head. “No. If we are fortunate, Moreland will take the bait and produce the girl.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Gregg asked.

Fast met his friend’s concerned gaze and smiled grimly. “Don’t borrow trouble, Gregg. We’ve got plenty of that already.”

***

Lori drifted in the shallows between sleep and wakefulness, her body humming in a way that was becoming pleasurably familiar to her.

If she opened her eyes, it would stop—she just knew it would.

But when she reached down to rub herself harder and encourage more of those feelings her knuckles encountered something hard.

“Ow!” a muffled voice muttered, yanking her from her dozy state.

Broad shoulders pressed against her inner thighs, warm, strong finger stroked the intimate folds between her legs, and a hot, insistent mouth sucked and licked.

Her lips curled into a smile when she realized she’d not been dreaming at all. She carded her fingers through his messy hair and ground herself against his mouth, focusing his tongue exactly where she needed it.

Rather than be annoyed at her rough, demanding usage, he chuckled and slid a finger inside her, pumping her with hard, deep strokes as his wicked mouth worked its magic.

Lori’s hips began to jerk and then buck as the most powerful orgasm she’d yet experienced gripped her in its punishing fist.

She was lost for a time, only vaguely aware of his tender kisses and gentle stroking. As she came down from the ecstatic heights he crawled up her body, until his messy head emerged from beneath the covers.

“Good morning, my delicious lover,” he murmured, kissing her with lips that were swollen and slick and tasted salty and musky. Of her.

He chuckled, once again reading her mind with an ease that was disconcerting. “You taste good, don’t you?”

“Not as good as you,” she retorted, and then bit her lip, shocked at her own words.

“Mmmm,” he rumbled. “I’m so glad you feel that way.” His hips thrust lazily against her thigh, the hard length of him making her shiver.

Lori opened her legs in silent invitation.

He paused his sensuous frottage and arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not too sore?”

“I wasn’t a maiden, you know.”

“I know.” He smirked, easily moving up her body. “But then you’ve never encountered a… specimen as huge and impressive as mine before, have you?”

Lori laughed. “Oh dear. I can see it was a mistake to say such a thing aloud. You’re going to get a big head, aren’t you?”