* * *
A STRANGE FEELING clutched at Max’s chest as Rose sat there, her face ethereal in the light pouring in from the bedroom. He’d judged her this morning, labeled her. He’d been happy to stereotype her and move on.
That wasn’t like him at all. At one point he’d been an advocate for treating people fairly, without presumption. Now he was just as bad as those jaded cops he hated, the ones who gave all officers a bad name. Max swallowed, guilt seeping through him like a toxin.
“No one’s ever called me smart before,” she said grudgingly.
Without makeup she looked younger, more vulnerable. The bruise had deepened on her cheek, marring her otherwise perfect skin. The intruder had been able to hurt her because Max hadn’t kept her in his line of sight. He vowed then to never let that happen again.
“I’m not trying to win your sympathy,” she continued, narrowing her eyes at him as if warning him not to be kind to her. “It’s a fact.”
“I believe you.”
“I think we’re more alike than you first assumed.” She shifted on the couch and moved closer to him.
Her robe loosened, revealing a triangle of pale skin across her décolletage. The fluffy white fabric hugged the slope of her breasts, revealing the barest hint of creamy cleavage. The delicate bumps of her collar bone were exaggerated by the angle of the light; the slender length of her neck was exposed beneath her short hair.
“Do you?”
She nodded. “I think we’re two people who’ve been screwed over, who have to fend for ourselves. We don’t trust easily.”
“Are you sure you’re not a detective?”
Her words stirred something deep in his gut, a feeling that he’d packed down. Buried. Almost forgotten.
“Positive.”
“Who screwed you over?” This could be the perp. You’re not asking because you care.
“Next question,” she said with a sad smile.
“It could be helpful for the case, Rose. If there’s someone who might want to harm you...” He reached out and touched her arm.
The minute his hand connected with the robe he knew he’d made a mistake. She moved forward, her face coming closer to his. Her breath was warm on his ear, the scent of her perfume soft and gentle in the air, mingling with the scent of mint on her lips. Desire rocketed through him, unleashing the force of months of loneliness. “You won’t hurt me.” A statement, a demand.
“I’m here to protect you.” He choked the words out, the onslaught of arousal clouding his mind.
She cupped the side of his jaw and turned it until they were face to face, her thumb stroking his lips. “I want you to do more than protect me.”
He shook his head to dislodge the voice screaming yes! “It’s my job to ensure your safety. That’s it.”
“You’re not on the clock now.” Her other hand found its way to his thigh.
God, he was so hard. His cock strained against the zipper of his jeans, creating a solid ridge beneath the denim. If she brushed her hand just a little higher...
It had been so long since he’d had sex...months. Since he’d walked away from his job, his family and his fiancée, women had been few and far between. A one-night stand every so often, one fling that had lasted a week. No emotional involvement, no commitment, no expectations.
That was all he could fit into his life. Hell, it was all he could fit into his mind.
“Let’s distract ourselves.” She pressed her lips to his jaw.
Need ran through him, lighting up his body like a Christmas tree. “Rose,” he growled.
Her hands went straight to the knotted belt of her robe. The fabric parted to reveal paradise. Pale skin stretched out in sloping curves, the rise and fall of her breasts giving way to a smooth stomach, rounded hips and slender legs.
A scrap of pale lace covered her breasts, but did nothing to hide their beauty. Her nipples pressed through the fabric and he fought the urge to take one into his mouth.
“We need to deal with this sexual tension. It’s going to get in the way if we don’t.”
“What tension?” Had he been that obvious?
“I see the way you’ve been looking at me, Max.” She pushed up and straddled him. “You want me.”
Her thighs pinned him down, and it was all he could do not to buck up against her. She draped her arms over the back of the couch on either side of his head, her breasts inches from his mouth.
“I’m supposed to be working.” He tilted his face up to hers.
She lowered down onto his erection. The heat of her sex made him groan, the anguished sound echoing in the quiet hotel room. She had him.
“Tell me you don’t want this.” She rolled her hips gently against his, increasing the pressure just enough to make spots dance in his vision. “I can feel that you want it.”
He knew it was wrong; it was totally against company policy to sleep with the client.
She’s not the client. What his bosses don’t know won’t hurt them...
“I want you, Max.” Her eyes were wide, blackened with arousal.
At the sound of his name on her lips his control shattered like glass against concrete. “I’m still not going to read you that bedtime story.”
“I can read on my own.” She reached for the hem of his T-shirt and tugged upward. “Or maybe I can read to you.”
He grabbed her by the hips, pressing her harder against him, grinding his erection against her heat. She fell forward, her lips coming down on the base of his neck. Teeth scraped as she worked her mouth up to his jaw, her hands under his T-shirt.
Heat consumed him as he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue pushing between her lips and claiming her. He ran his hands up her arms, slipped them under the robe and pushed it from her shoulders. Without the extra fabric she felt small in his grip, his arm easily encircling her small waist and holding her tightly against him.
She rocked her hips, pushing him closer to the edge. Yanking the T-shirt over his head, she gasped as he moved his hand between them, pressing his thumb against her center through the lace of her thong.
“I want you,” she repeated, shoving his hands aside to get to his belt. “I need you inside me. Now.”
“Damn,” he muttered as she wrenched the buckle and zipper open. Her hand found him hard and throbbing.
“No underwear?” A cheeky grin spread over her face and she laughed. “I like it.”
“It’s laundry day.” He pressed his lips to her neck as she stroked the length of him, pausing to squeeze the tip before sliding her hand back down. “God, Rose.”
“Inside me,” she whispered into his ear. “Now.”
Growling, he hauled her off his lap and flipped her over so that she faced the back of the couch. He yanked down his jeans and fished out his wallet, praying his emergency condom would still be in there.
His fingers found the foil packet and he said a silent thank you to the sex gods. He sheathed himself and kicked off his jeans. A gasp escaped Rose’s lips as he stood behind her, trailing his hand down her spine and following his fingers with a line of hot, openmouthed kisses. Her back arched, thrusting her sweet ass against his crotch.
“Slowly,” he commanded.
He flicked the clasp of her bra, undoing it so that his hands could reach