Slowly, he stroked his hand over my back, tracing the curve of my spine, the swell of my rear. “Yes,” he said, in a voice heavy with lust and heat. “You’re perfect, Sloane, so fucking perfect.”

I said nothing. I wasn’t perfect—not by a long shot. But in that moment, I felt like I was.

He leaned over, his clothes brushing my naked flesh in a way that made me shiver almost as much as his words. “I’m going to fuck you, Sloane. Fast and hard. I’m going to lose myself inside you, and I’m going to hold tight as I feel you explode.”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I could only wait in breathless anticipation as he took off his jacket, then folded it and gently placed it between my belly and the edge of the desk.

I drew in a breath—Tyler’s hands, his touch, his words all made me wet with longing. But that one tiny courtesy had me close to crumpling with desire and respect and something that, in another place and time, just might be love.

He touched me, using his fingers to open me wide, make me even more aroused, so that I was whimpering with need by the time I heard the distinctive sound of his zipper.

And then—oh, thank god—I felt the thick head of his cock push against me, gentle at first, teasing me, and then with one solid thrust he buried himself inside me, and I cried out as the warmth of his body pressed up against my ass, trapping me between him and the desk.

I leaned forward more, stretching my arms so that I could clutch the far side of the desktop. “Hard,” I said. “I’ve wanted you inside me since that damn dressing room. Fuck me hard, Tyler, please.”

He didn’t answer in words, but his hands tightened on my hips and the pounding rhythmic thrusts were all the answer I needed. Again and again he entered me, burying himself deep inside me until I was swirling outside myself, lost in the sweet heat of it all.

I heard myself crying out in pleasure. Heard the slap of his body against mine. And then, when he slipped his hand between our bodies to stroke my clit and bring me even higher, I lost everything except the brilliant, burning glow of the orgasm, building and building until it threatened to send me shooting off into some other plane of existence, where only Tyler could find me.

He came after me, his cry of release so wild and masculine and loud, I was certain that everyone still in the club knew exactly what we were doing. Right then, I really didn’t care.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, then curled me into his arms and laid me gently on the desktop.

I smiled lazily at him. “That was seriously awesome,” I said.

His answering grin was smug and very male. “Oh, yes,” he said. “I do like our arrangement.”

“Mmm,” I murmured in agreement as I stretched like a cat, as if this desk was as comfortable as the most plush of beds. “Right now, I’m a very satisfied customer.”

The jacket had fallen to the floor, and Tyler bent to pick it up. Then handed it to me. I slipped it on, breathing in the scent of him that clung to the material.

I was starting to button it when the door burst open.

“Goddammit,” Tyler began, but he stopped when he saw Cole, his expression a mixture of anger and fear.

Cole’s eyes darted to me, then focused on Tyler.

“Lizzy” was all he said.

Chapter Twenty

Tyler caught the attention of the first nurse we came across as he, Cole, and I barreled into the ER at Cook County Medical. “Elizabeth Rodriguez,” he said. “Car accident. Where?”

“Just one moment and I’ll find out for you.” Her words were calm and her manner efficient, and it was clear that she was used to handling crises. She crossed to a work station and typed something into the computer. “Exam room A. Down the corridor and then to the left.”

Neither man ran, but I still had to in order to keep up with their long strides. I’d changed in a hurry, and when I couldn’t find my shoes, I’d snatched a pair of flip-flops that someone had left in the break room. The flip-flops were a size too big, and slapped at the polished tile floor as I ran.

I still didn’t know exactly what had happened other than that their former employee, Lizzy, had been in a nasty car accident that afternoon. She’d been unconscious for over an hour, which had worried the doctors, but had otherwise gotten away with only severe bruises and lacerations.

The car, apparently, had been completely totaled.

When she’d regained consciousness, she’d asked that the nurse contact the owners of Destiny.

She was asleep when we came in, and in the dim light of the various machines, the mottled purple and red bruises and welts on her face stood out gruesomely.

I hung back as Cole and Tyler approached the bed, and I saw the way their shoulders straightened, saw their posture go rigid with anger over this offense to the human body.

And then—though I hadn’t seen it coming—I saw Cole lash out and smash his fist through the thin, pressboard wall.

I jumped in surprise, but beside him, Tyler didn’t even blink. “Calm down or take it outside, man. She doesn’t need to see you breaking shit.”

“Fuck.” Cole rubbed his hands over his shaved head, and as he turned back toward Lizzy, I caught a glimpse of a dragon tattoo on the back of his neck, the bulk hidden beneath his conservative suit jacket. “Jesus, fuck, just look at her.”

He took a step closer to the hospital bed, then took Lizzy’s hand. I edged farther into the room, then moved down toward the foot so that I could see everyone, but still be out of the way.

Even with two black eyes and a nasty bruise rising on her cheek, I could tell she was pretty. Her blond hair was matted now, but I could tell she wore it in the same style as Amy, shoulder-length with bangs. Her arm was in a cast, and I had no idea about the state of her legs.

At the bedside, Cole gently stroked the fingers of her healthy hand while Tyler ran a gentle hand over her hair.

“Hey, Lizzy girl,” Tyler said. “You in there?”

When there was no answer, he glanced toward Cole. Their eyes met, and I saw so much pity and concern between the two of them that I wanted to cry.

“She worked for you?”

“Used to dance at Destiny,” Tyler said. “Earned her GED a few months ago, and just got her first office job. She’s one of ours,” he added, with a quick glance to me.

I nodded, understanding that she’d been pulled out of the trafficking ring. Poor girl had been through more than anyone should have to endure.

At her bedside, Tyler shook his head as if to clear it. “I’ll need to call Franklin. Get a temp to fill her slot.”

Her chart hung at the foot of the bed, and I flipped through it. I’m no expert, but when you work homicide, vice, or sex crimes long enough, you see the inside of a lot of hospitals and have the occasion to look at more than a few charts. As far as I could tell, Lizzy looked like a woman who had gotten supremely lucky. She’d be in some serious pain for a while, but in the end, bruises would fade and broken bones would heal.

I told them so, not sure if my words would give any comfort or not. To my surprise, it was Cole who turned to look at me. He nodded, one quick motion. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

I’m not sure what compelled me, but I moved from the end of the bed to Tyler’s side. “Do you want me to get you guys anything? Some coffee, maybe, while we wait.”

“No,” Cole said. “I’m good. Appreciate it.”

“Stay,” Tyler said, and as he spoke, he reached for my hand.

I took it without thinking, and as Lizzy stirred, Tyler’s fingers tightened around mine.

“Lizzy. It’s Cole. Wake up, sweetheart.”

At first, she didn’t react, and I feared that she’d fallen back into a deep sleep. Then her eyes fluttered. The left one blinked open, the swollen right one remained glued shut.

“Hey there, kid,” Tyler said, softly. “You’re going to be just fine.”