Get a Clue

And then, because he was a very weak man, he let his hand fall lower with each stroke.

She didn't object. In fact, she let out another breath, a hum of pleasure this time, and just like that, the embrace changed. Shifted. He was still holding her, touching her, but no longer for comfort. 'Breanne,' he said very softly.

'I know.' Her lips moved against his throat. 'God, this is crazy. I'm crazy.'

'No.' Another stroke of his hand down her back, slowly, curving his palm over the curve of her ass. Ah, man.

'Cooper?'

Don't say stop. Please don't. 'Yeah?'

'I'm sorry you have to keep saving the stupid chick.'

'You're not stupid.' He let his fingers curl over the edge of her skirt, his knuckles brushing the back of her thigh now. Christ, she had soft skin. Her hair was damp against his cheek. The scent of the shampoo she'd used made him want to bury his face in it, or better yet, have the long strands teasing his bare chest as she rode him. Yeah, that would work-

'I went outside to get my messages.'

He wondered if she knew that her entire heart was in her voice, defeated and sad, and with a breath of regret, he hugged her tight. 'You heard from the missing groom?'

Still pressing her face to his throat, she nodded.

Something about the sudden tension in her body told him that whatever she'd learned had reinforced her no- more-men thing.

'He's in jail,' she said. 'For identity theft and fraud, and God knows what else.'

'You were going to marry a helluva guy.'

She let out a laugh that might have been half sob, and buried her face closer to him. 'I didn't know he was a thief.' She lifted her head, her eyes full of things, with anger and humiliation leading the way. 'I would never have been with him if I'd known.'

He stroked her cheek. 'I know.'

'How?' she asked, seeming surprised. 'You don't even know me.'

'I know you wouldn't kill a spider, even though it terrified you. I know you rushed to help Shelly feel better last night when she couldn't cook for us. I know that despite the whole kick-ass attitude, you're afraid of the dark.'

'Those things don't have anything to do with dating a thief.'

'You wouldn't,' he said again.

She just stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. 'I don't suppose you could call everyone I know and tell them that.'

'Sure.'

She laughed again, with a little more true humor this time. 'You would, wouldn't you?'

'Yeah.'

She shook her head, dropping her forehead to his chest. 'It's my greatest fantasy to wake up and find myself in my own bed at home, this whole thing just a bad dream.'

'Want to hear my fantasy?'

'No!'

He stroked her hair. 'I'm sorry your week has sucked so badly.'

'Thanks.' Her fists had a death grip on his shirt. Slowly she loosened her fingers, and wound her arms around his neck. 'That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me.'

'Don't take this the wrong way, Princess, but if that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, I don't think I like the people in your life.'

'No, I don't think you would,' she said solemnly. 'And chances are, they wouldn't like you, either.' Her fingers tunneled into his hair. 'Cooper?'

She was looking at him with those whiskey eyes, and they'd filled with heat and desire. It took his breath. She took his breath. 'Yeah?'

'Hang on for this one.' She tugged his head down and captured his mouth with hers. It was his dream all over again, this morning all over again, and with a low groan, he hauled her up against him and dug in. She was right. On paper they didn't know each other from Adam and Eve, but in the flesh, their bodies knew enough. They stood there, straining together, dark sounds of neediness escaping each of them, and when she tangled her tongue with his, sucking him into her mouth, he nearly lost it. Her heart was slamming against her ribs, or maybe that was his, he didn't know and it didn't matter.

As long as it never stopped.

He clamped her head between his palms, inhaling her breathy murmur of pleasure as he changed the angle of the kiss to suit him. Only when air became required did he pull back a fraction, staring down at her. 'I thought you were on a no-more-men kick.'

'I am.'

'Then what was that for?'

'Honestly? I have no idea. I just needed to.' Her voice was satisfyingly thick, her eyes glazed over.

'Well, I need more.' And he came at her again, settling his mouth more firmly over hers, moaning when her soft lips clung and her fingers gripped his face as if afraid he'd pull back.

Fat chance.

He had no idea how long he lost himself in the taste of her before he backed her to a set of shelves, slid his hands from her hair, down her body to her hips, which he squeezed, before gliding them both up, cupping her breasts. Her nipples were hard, pressing against the material of that eye-popping top, begging for attention, attention he was more than willing to give.

Breanne gasped when he dragged his thumbs over them, that same sexy little gasp she'd given him this morning when he'd bared one to the morning air and his own hungry gaze. Tearing his mouth from hers, he dragged kisses along her jaw to her ear. Touching the lobe with his tongue, he sucked it into his mouth in a desperate imitation of what he wanted to do to the rest of her.

Panting raggedly against his throat, she gripped him tighter, holding onto his chest in a way that would surely tear out each hair there, one by painful one, and he didn't care. He hadn't gotten enough this morning, and logically he knew he couldn't possibly get enough here, in the light of day, in the library, where anyone could walk in on them.

But she slid her hands beneath his shirt and stroked his bare back in a restless, desperate sort of gesture, and in the coup de grace… sighed his name, just a tiny whisper of a sound, but it was so endlessly, outrageously erotic he fisted his fingers in the stretchy, flashy red material at her shoulders and tugged. The top slid to her elbows, and her breasts popped free, exposing her for his viewing and tasting pleasure.

She wasn't wearing a bra.

'Lariana was still washing my clothes,' she whispered, resting her head back against the shelving unit. 'And I didn't fit into one of her bras-'

'Breanne.' He stared down at her freed, bared breasts, at the way the nipples were tightening into two little buds right before his eyes, making his mouth water. 'Are you somehow trying to apologize for not wearing a bra?'

'Yes, I-'

'Don't.' This came out slightly more harsh than he intended, and panting for breath, he put his forehead to hers. 'God, Breanne. You take my breath.'

She shot him a tremulous smile, and with a ragged moan, he dipped his head and very gently rubbed his jaw along the heavy curve of her breast.

Her head thunked back against the shelf. A few books rained down over them. Not caring, he slid his hands down to the backs of her thighs and lifted her up, supporting her between the shelf and his body as he wrapped her legs around him. Her tight skirt got in the way, and impatient, he shoved that up, giving her the freedom of