“You’re not serious.”

He actually seemed to ponder. “Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess I am.” One of his long arms whipped out, snaked her waist, lifted her off her feet, and dragged her to the couch. Seconds later, he turned her upside down over his lap.

She blinked.

His palm came down hard on the fleshiest part of her rear. All the blood rushed to her head. “Ow! Oh, my god! You are kidding me!”

Another smack. “Does this feel like I’m kidding?” Whack.

“It feels like you’ve lost your mind.”

“Never felt saner.” Whack. Whack.

“This is wrong in so many ways. I don’t even know where to start. Ouch! Yes, I do know! I’m calling my lawyer.”

“You don’t have a lawyer.” Another smack. “Besides, don’t you read? Rough sex is the rage these days.”

“Only between consenting adults! Stop it! Do I look like I’m consenting?”

“If you weren’t, I’d be on my ass right now.”

True. She was hardly helpless. She let another smack land, then gritted her teeth. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You worry about yourself.”

Another whap. And then his hand stalled. His palm curled around the sting. Lingered. Rubbed.

“Cooper Graham! You are feeling me up.”

“I’m sure I’m not.” His hand slid between her legs, cupping her through the denim, and his voice held a husky edge that made her weak with lust. First she’d engaged in playground behavior, and now she’d let herself be turned on by caveman theatrics. She was hopeless. And, despite all the lectures she’d given herself, she didn’t care. “My mistake,” she said, her voice as raspy as his.

He slipped his hand under her Bears jersey and traced his thumb up the bumps of her spine. He stalled at her bra. “You have too many clothes on…”

She didn’t know whether he helped her or she levered herself up, but within seconds, she was on his lap, straddling him, her knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs.

He clasped her waist. She slipped her hands around the back of his neck and gazed into that granite-carved face. “Are we really going to do this?”

His forehead creased. “It seems like it.”

It seemed that way to her, too. “What about your scruples? I’m still the hired help.”

He leaned forward and nibbled on her bottom lip. “You’re not the help. You’re the obstacle.”

She nuzzled the cleft in his chin. “To what?”

“My peace of mind.”

That was something she definitely understood.

He brushed his lips across hers. “What about your scruples?”

“Temporary leave of absence,” she murmured.

He found the corner of her mouth. “I never spanked a woman in my life. Never even thought about it. Damn, it felt good.”

She resisted the urge to rub her tingling bottom. “It didn’t hurt one bit.”

He drew back so that she was looking straight into those tarnished golden-brown eyes. “I’m still furious with you,” he said.

“Understood.” She met his gaze straight on. “If it’s any consolation, I’m even more furious with me.”

Maybe that satisfied him because he brought his lips to her neck. “Promise you won’t fight any more of my men?”

She tilted her head to give him more room. “I promise.” Unless they’re not watching out for you.

He dumped her off his lap. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

She was done for. Hopeless and reckless. She reached for the bottom of his sweater and pulled it over his head.

It didn’t take long before they were both naked and back on the couch. Even a short interruption while he protected them didn’t dampen her desire. She wanted this-wanted dirty, no-holds-barred sex with this man. And maybe, maybe, she wanted to make him lose control the same way he’d done last time.

But he wasn’t playing her game. “Keep your hands to yourself, lady,” he said as she reached for him.

“You, too,” she replied. “No. Wait. You can put your hands anywhere you like.”

And he did.

She straddled him, the position opening her to the intimate abrasion of his fingers. His eyes were darker now, burnished with desire, but their gazes were no longer locked. That was an intimacy neither of them wanted.

She lowered her mouth to his, delivering a deep kiss, a kiss that began to feel as if it held too much of her. A hand tunneled into her hair, keeping her there. Mouths, teeth, tongues merged and battled. She lowered her hand to clasp him, but he was having none of it. He pushed her back into the cushions and pressed open her thighs. He gazed at all he’d exposed, and then claimed what she so willingly offered.

The press of his thumbs into her thighs, the sweet laceration of his mouth, the teasing, the torment… And then the abandonment. The cruel, callous, abandonment… until he shifted his weight.

This time there was no mistaking that hard thrust-sweetly painful. Her fingers dug into his back, slick now with sweat. The delicious burden of his body pressed down on her. Into her. Deep and deeper still, this tight, powerful breaching.

A crazy fracas broke out behind her eyelids. Inky swirls orbiting into a whirling vortex that spun faster and faster until it erupted into a perfect supernova.

He thrust on, full press. Her head thrashed. She cried out. His hips drove deeper. Stilled.

Finally… The silent howl of his arched neck. Muscles convulsing. The long shudder of his body.

And then the quiet.

They calmed. When she could breathe, she maneuvered for a more comfortable position only to send them both to the floor.

They lay there for a few moments, on their sides, wedged between the couch and his flying saucer coffee table. His finger circled the breast he’d neglected while he’d been busy with other parts. “You felt like a virgin.”

“It’s been a while.” She rested her head in the crook of his arm and gave in to the inevitable. “This can’t interfere with work.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, even more vehemently than she had.

“Because if it’s going to…”

“It won’t. We’re too smart for that. And we both know this had to happen. Now we’re going to see it through.”

“Lovers when we’re naked,” she said. “Business associates when we’re not.”

“I couldn’t have phrased it better.” He wedged up on one elbow. “Have I mentioned how much I like you? When I don’t feel like killing you.”

She smiled. “I like you, too. Most of the time, anyway, and that’s rare. I’m much too critical of your sex.”

He tweaked her nipple. “From the way you were screaming, I think my sex did pretty damn well for itself.”

“Definitely better than last time.”

“You aren’t going to let me forget, are you?”

“I’m not that decent.” She tugged hard on a piece of his hair. “You’d better not try that spanking thing again, because you won’t get away with it twice.”

“I’ll treasure the memory.”

She traced her fingers down the hard slope of his arm. “You should know I’m not usually so selfish. I believe in giving as well as taking.”

“You’ll have to prove that.” He nuzzled her neck. “Let’s hop in the shower so I can see if you’re all talk.”

“So soon?”

“I’m a highly trained athlete. I have powers far beyond those of mortal men.”

She definitely couldn’t argue with that. He helped her off the floor, and they headed for the open staircase, but before they got to the top, she had to make sure they were clear. “We agree, right? No games. We’ll do this until we get bored with each other or until another ravishingly beautiful movie star decides she needs some quarterback arm candy.”

He grinned and squeezed her rear. “It’s a deal. And no screwing around with your cop boyfriend.”

“Not until I’m done with you.”

His walk-in shower was bigger than four of her bathrooms. Its tumbled marble walls, multiple nozzles, and movable showerheads became a sexual playground for an inventive couple. Which they were.

“You’re definitely not selfish,” Coop muttered sometime later as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath.

Not selfish, but maybe stupid, she thought. She pushed the idea aside. She finally knew what she was doing. She’d set her boundaries and been up front about her needs. Most important, she was aware of her limitations when it came to having a relationship with a wealthy celebrity sex god, a man so far out of her realm of experience that the two of them barely occupied the same planet. She wasn’t beautiful or sophisticated. Didn’t care about clothes or makeup, and wouldn’t know how to swish her hair even if it were a foot longer. He was attracted to her out of novelty. And novelty was, by definition, temporary.

She gave them two weeks max before it fell apart. And she was okay with that. Two weeks of mind-blowing sex was perfect. But as she wrapped herself in an oversize bath towel, a shadow fell over one corner of her heart, a premonition that, when the sex stopped, she’d have lost a friend. One of the best friends she’d ever had.

15

On Monday morning, she got a call from the owner of a neighborhood minimart who’d seen her flyer. He wanted her to investigate what he believed was a fraudulent injury claim from one of his former employees, a guy named Wylie Hill. She headed south to check him out.

Pilsen was a predominantly Mexican-American Chicago neighborhood, rich with art and immigrant tradition. Two men leaned against a mural of the Virgin of Guadalupe and watched a couple of hipsters walk by. An old woman in bedroom slippers came up the steps from her basement apartment to sweep the sidewalk.

Wylie eventually appeared and sat smoking on the stoop of the row house where he’d rented a room. She was happy to have a new client, but stakeouts were her least favorite part of the job. First, because they were boring, and second, because they gave her too much time to think, especially today.

She and Coop had spent most of yesterday in bed, and not once had she been plagued by the emptiness that had always come over her when she was with a man-the panicky disconnect that made her look for excuses to get away. With Coop, there’d been nearly as much talking as there’d been sex. She’d described a couple of Duke’s more interesting investigations. He’d talked about ranch life and urban gardening. They’d exchanged surprisingly similar opinions about politics and religion. He’d even pried out some stories about her schizophrenic upbringing-stories she now regretted sharing. Too much talking. Too many places inside her she didn’t want him to see. From now on, she was leaving his place as soon as he put his clothes back on.

Wylie Hill had either genuinely hurt his back unloading boxes or was the laziest man alive, because he didn’t do much except sit on his stoop. By late the next afternoon, when she couldn’t stand the boredom any longer, she made a quick trip to her office and did some work on her Web site. As she was getting ready to lock back up and return to her stakeout, Coop appeared, bringing an influx of testosterone along with him. He gazed around, taking in the framed posters of pulp detective magazine covers. “You really do have an office.”

“A little humbler than yours, but it’ll work until my luxury suite in the Hancock opens up.” She surreptitiously turned the notepad she’d been writing on facedown. “What are you doing here?”

“Curious to see how the other half lives.” He reached across her desk and flipped over the notepad she’d tried to conceal. “Your shrink?”

She’d intended to keep what she’d learned to herself until she had more information, but she couldn’t do that now. “I finally tracked down your ex-bartender. He’s working in a Bridgeport dive bar.”

“You weren’t planning to tell me about it?”

“After I talked to him. That’s what you pay me to do, remember?”

“Right.” He skirted the borders of the rug to poke at the soil of her windowsill orchid, a gift from Amber. “When are you going to see him?”

“Tonight. He goes on duty at nine. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No need. I’m going with you. And you’re overwatering that orchid.”

“Thanks for the info, and you’ll only complicate things. Now, go away. I have some surveillance work to do for a new client.” And simply breathing your oxygen is fogging my brain.

“Great. I’ll come along. It’ll be interesting to get a glimpse into the seedier side of your life.”

“Surveillance is way too boring for you.”

“I can handle it.”

At first he did. But after a few hours, he grew restless and stared rummaging around in her backseat. “Got anything to eat in here?”

“Fresh out.”

“What’s this?” He held up her pink Tinkle Belle.

“Ice cream scoop.”