Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Potent.
I was flushed with heat, my skin branded everywhere he touched me. I raised a finger to run it along my swollen lower lip. Hot damn, that had been a hell of a kiss.
But my life was a mess. I was homeless, my career on hold, and temporarily flat broke. I was not in a position to be starting anything with any man. Definitely not with my reluctant partner, who was helping my investigation but also keeping things from me.
On one hand, I trusted Eli with my life. And on the other, I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him—which, considering his size and my biceps, wasn’t very far. So many good reasons to forget he’d just laid one on me.
I jumped as the kettle shrilled beside me. Fuck, it had all happened fast. In the time it took to boil water, Eli Bishop had rocked my world.
I took the kettle off the heat and flipped the spout open, shutting off the whistle. I filled my cup with steaming water. Eli’s sat beside it. Guess he hadn’t really wanted that tea. What he had wanted—for just a few minutes—was me.
I bobbed the tea bag in my cup, thinking as red hibiscus spread through the hot water. On one hand, getting involved with Eli was a terrible idea. Of course it was. Mixing business with pleasure. Blah, blah. But we were both adults, and my body hummed with desire for more. Everything had been going wrong lately—but not that kiss. That kiss had felt very, very right.
Lost in thought, I added honey to my tea, gave it a stir, and followed the same path Eli had taken down the hall to the bedrooms, turning left where he’d turned right. His door was firmly shut, light leaking from beneath.
Was he really going to bed, or was he just avoiding me? I didn’t know. Did it matter? Not if there wasn’t going to be a repeat of that kiss.
I went through the motions of getting ready for bed. There wasn’t much to do, considering I was already in my pajamas and had already washed my face. I brushed my teeth, thinking fleetingly that doing that before drinking tea with honey was probably a waste, but God knew I wasn’t perfect.
I crawled under the covers and turned off the light, sitting up in the dark, sipping my tea and thinking. I’d been exhausted, my stomach full of casserole, the day dragging at me, but that kiss had been a shot of espresso. I wasn’t sure if it had woken up my brain, but it had fired up my body. I shifted my legs, crossing one ankle over the other.
Down, girl. You have enough trouble as it is. Getting involved with Eli Bishop was probably not a great idea. But who said we had to be involved? I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or a long-term anything. I didn’t have room in my life for that.
We were temporary work partners, investigating Emily Shaw while we figured out how to unfuck my life. Why not have a little fun together? Going by that kiss, fun with Eli would be worth the risk. And he wasn’t indifferent—he’d walked away, but it wasn’t because he didn’t want me. I was sure of it. I’d been there. I’d felt how much he wanted me.
After a good twenty minutes of dithering and sipping at my tea, I put the mug down on the bedside table with a decisive click. I hadn’t gotten where I was in life by dithering. I pushed the covers off and stood, shaking my loose hair out over my shoulders—still damp but not soaking wet anymore.
The worst that could happen, I reminded myself, was that he could say no and I’d be momentarily embarrassed. But I was used to hearing no, not necessarily from men I wanted to have sex with, but when you investigated a crime, people often didn’t want to talk. Some of my best interviews had come from people who’d turned me away multiple times. I’d learned to suck it up, take the no, and try again if it really mattered. I could handle a brief embarrassment.
And if he didn’t say no, I thought as I eased open the door of my bedroom—
Yeah, it was worth the risk.
I crossed the hall, noting that the light was out beneath his door. Had he gone to sleep? Maybe, but my gut said he hadn’t. I rapped lightly at his door before turning the handle and cracking it.
“Eli?” I said in a low voice in case he was sleeping.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding too alert to have been asleep.
“Can I come in?” I pushed the door open.
Sheets rustled, his body moving in the bed. “Sure.”
I stepped into his dark room, blinking as my eyes adjusted to see him sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled at his waist, his bare chest exposed—smooth golden skin speckled with hair, stretched tight across corded muscle. My mouth watered, my fingers itched to touch. I looked to his eyes—not at all sleepy. The chocolate brown was almost black in the dark, but alert, simmering with heat.