“Going with you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You heard.”

“Don’t tell me to ignore them, because I can’t. I won’t.”

“I don’t care what they say.” He puts his hand on my cheek and leans across the console. “I only care that you’re okay.”

When he’s close like this I forget why things could never work out between us. His scent wraps around me in the small space. I breathe him in and it’s like he’s a part of me. The stroke of his thumb across my cheek echoes in other parts of my body and I feel myself leaning in to him like a flower seeking the sun. I don’t want any of this and yet it’s all I want. I want him in and around and on top of me. I want to not be able to tell where he begins and I end. It’s a winding, twisting sort of sensation that blankets my senses. I become a solid mass of need. My body wants something that I don’t quite understand.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, because I have to know if he understands this any more than I do.

He watches me in the dying summer light. His expression is as serious as I’ve ever seen it. “Don’t you know?”

“No.” How in the hell should I know?

“God, Cora.” His voice is a sigh that arrows straight through me, fanning out into tiny prickles of pleasure and pain.

His mouth is unexpectedly urgent and hot on mine. He pours every intangible thing between us into this kiss. I grab at him, holding on, a willing receptor for everything he has to show me. The more I know of him the more I want to know. His hands roam free over my body. It’s like he’s suddenly let loose, pushing past whatever barriers were there before. He grabs my ass and pulls me tight against him. The console digs into my side, but still I try to get closer, needing something only he can give.

He breaks the kiss as abruptly as he started it. “Get us out of here.”

I shift into gear and hit the gas as he collapses back into his seat. I’m alive everywhere. My nipples are hard, poking against the lace cups of my bra. I can still feel the brand of his big hand on the right one. The throbbing between my legs makes it difficult to drive. Every movement of my feet on the pedals creates friction and it’s all I can do not to shove my hand down my pants and finish what he started. He showed me more than I wanted to know and yet not enough.

He rolls the window down and sticks his head out. He mumbles something that sounds like “I can smell you,” but I’m not totally sure what that means or if I heard him right.

I look over at him. He faces away, his hair blowing back in the breeze. His mouth is a flat, grim line. In another glance I can clearly see his erection pressing against his zipper. I want to reach over and touch it. What would it feel like? What would he do if I did?

Chapter 18 Leo

I want her so badly it scares the shit out of me. If I hadn’t stopped, we might be fucking right now, right in front of my parents’ house for the whole neighborhood to see. My balls ache and my dick feels like it’s going to explode. I don’t even know how long I’d last with her. Seconds, maybe. If I was lucky. Just thinking about the sound she made when I touched her breast—like she’d been waiting forever for me to do it—makes it hard to think about anything except being inside her. Right now.

Her ass is firm and lush, making me think of bending her over a bed, a chair, a table, just about any-fucking-where, and driving into her from behind. I force myself to sing “Take Me out to the Ballgame” in my head. It’s just about the least sexy thing I can think of at the moment. I’m on the third round and I’ve got things pretty much under control when she pulls up in front of her garage apartment.

And then my brain leaps ahead to being alone with her in a place with a bed and a chair and a table…

“What’s going to happen when we go inside?” She sounds expectant yet nervous.

I have to remind myself that she’s not that experienced. I don’t know how inexperienced she is or if that’s what’s holding me back. She’s so damn beautiful I want to touch her to make sure she’s really real. I’m unsure with her in a way I’ve never been before. My brain is telling me to take things slow while everything else inside me screams to hit it full-throttle.

“What do you want to happen?” My voice comes out calmer and cooler than I feel.

Her gaze drops to my lap. “I want to touch you.”

I suck in some spit and start coughing. I’m not fucking calm or cool.

She pounds on my back as I try to wheeze in enough air to breathe again. She catches me off guard at every turn. She can touch any part of me she wants any way she wants. I tell her this and her eyes widen. She gets out of the car without another word and strides up the path to her door. I grab my bag and catch up to her.

She puts out an arm, blocking me from moving past her. With a finger she pushes on her front door. It swings open freely. Son of a bitch. The place is a mess.

“Who would do this? Oliver!”

I grab her arm. “Don’t go in. They still might be in there.”

“Oliver!”

I pull her away from the door and punch 911 into my cell. “Let’s go back to the car.”

“The cat. Where’s Oliver?”

“We’ll find him.” My chest is pounding for a whole different reason now. Cora could’ve been home alone when that asshole broke in.

I give Cora’s address to the dispatcher. While we wait for the police, I help her look for the cat. She’s frantic to find him and at times I worry she’s close to tears. I spot a flash of orange under a bush and creep toward it. “Here, cat.” Crouching down, I see that it is the cat. He lets me pick him up.

“Oh, my God. Thank you.” She scoops the cat out of my arms and hugs him.

An unmarked cop car comes to a halt behind Cora’s.

“You should put him in your car,” I tell her. “So he doesn’t run off again.”

While she takes care of the cat, I go to talk to the officer.

“Someone broke into her apartment,” I tell him.

“Did you go in?”

“No.”

A patrol cruiser pulls up. The two cops confer and then they head for Cora’s apartment, their hands on the butts of their guns. I join Cora at her car and put an arm around her. We watch as the police go in. A few moments later they come back out and head for us.

The big one with black hair speaks first. “Looks like someone was looking for something. Can’t tell if anything was stolen or not. You want to come inside and have a look?”

Cora nods and we follow them into the apartment. It’s a god-awful mess. Worse than my bedroom. If someone was looking for something, it’s likely they found it. Cora takes in the destruction in silence. I put a hand on her shoulder and give it a little squeeze.

“The TV’s still here,” the shorter cop says. “Is anything missing?”

She takes a slow tour of the apartment, picking her way over the debris at her feet. Every drawer, closet, and shelf was cleared and everything is on the floor. Most of it’s broken, either on purpose or when it hit the tile. She’s doing a good job of keeping it together. I wonder how long that will last.

“It’s hard to tell one hundred percent,” she says. “But I don’t think anything’s missing.”

“Do you have an idea who would do this? An ex-boyfriend?” Big Cop glances at me. “A disgruntled coworker or ex-friend?”

“No.”

“We can have a crime-scene crew come over and dust for prints, but if nothing’s been stolen there’s not much of a case here.” Big Cop shrugs. “Just vandalism.”

“We’ll write a report if you want it for your insurance,” Small Cop says.

“No. That’s okay,” Cora answers.