your tiny corner of it. Then one day you were forced to wake up and realize the world isn’t so big after all and the bad guys live right next door.”
How could he do that—make things feel so intimate between them while speaking of a day that had all but destroyed her life? Claire’s belly tumbled with lust even as her mind sought a defense. “Been witness to a lot of murders, huh?”
“Let’s just say I’ve seen my share of evil. I’ve also seen things that appeared evil but when it came right down to it were little more than an accident at the hands of stupidity and boredom.”
Was the passion in his voice another trick of his training, or did firsthand experience back up his words?
Even if he answered that question, she wouldn’t have any way of knowing he spoke the truth. And even if he did have firsthand experience, what difference would it make in his ability to heal her? Likely, none. Focusing on the feel of his hands in hers, the strength of his body mere inches away, the warmth of his breath as it left his mouth…these things could make a difference. These things could get her through the countless long, lonely days and nights that lay ahead.
Looking at him from beneath lowered lashes, she circled her thumbs against his palms. “The sex doesn’t have to be off.”
“Better to fuck than talk?”
“We’ve been talking the last seven minutes. I haven’t fucked anything more substantial than a vibrator in over seven months.”
Chris released her hands and sat back on the couch. His smile returned, first slow and soft, and then in that broad, wicked way that made the enticing cleft amongst his chin stubble emerge. His gaze journeyed from her face to her breasts, eyes darkening to near gray. “What do you say to a compromise? Every question you answer gets a piece of clothing off me and us one step closer to doing the deed?”
How very tempting to sing out an emphatic yes. But was she ready for the stakes? “What if I can’t answer?”
He met her eyes with a shrug. “A piece of clothing goes back on.”
That didn’t sound so bad. The worst that could happen was she got his tasty man-candy on display only to have it covered up again. The best…the best she would be experiencing in a matter of minutes. “All right. Me first.”
“I never said this was a two-questioner game.”
“But you meant to.” And Claire meant to get this game over with fast and a much more pleasurable one started. First came work. “You know I’m a staff reporter?” He nodded, and she peeled off the socks she’d put on in his absence. “Am I allowed to write an article about my experiences here for the Herald? It’d be a win-win deal. Ecstasy gets free promotion. I get paid.”
“That’d be one to ask Treah, the resort owner. He had to take off after our meeting but should be back on Friday or Saturday.” Curiosity entered his eyes. “Why would you want to write about this place when you’re already convinced your time here will be pointless?”
Smiling, she tugged at the front of his sweatshirt. “Oh, no, buddy. Not without losing the shirt.”
Chris sat dutifully forward and tugged the shirt over his head. Leaving it in a pile on her laptop, he raised a dark blond eyebrow. “Better?”
“A little.” Truthfully, she was feeling a whole lot better and a whole lot hornier now that all that gorgeous, golden brown skin was back on display. Her pulse raced and if her pussy were a mouth, it would have been drooling.
Granting herself the right to touch, she brought a hand to his abs and stroked the lean, firm muscle at the waist of his jeans. He pulled in an audible breath as the muscles contracted beneath her fingertips. Laughing delightedly, she walked her fingers up to a dark nipple. The short white line she’d noticed when she confronted him in the kitchen this morning pulled her attention away from toying with the flat disc.
She ran a fingernail along the mark less than an inch above his heart. Maybe he did know a thing or two about evil and had the proof to show for it. “Is this a scar?”
“You owe me an answer, sweetheart.”
“Right. The article. I don’t think I’ll be cured of my issues when I leave here. I do have every faith that numerous other women have been, or this place would have shut down long ago. Besides, your approach intrigues me. As does this.” Giving the white mark another caress, Claire glanced up at his eyes. They still held plenty of heat, but also now caginess. “What happened?”
“You really want me to put my shirt back on?”
“Hypocrite.”
“I’m not the one still fully dressed.” He took the front of her sweater in hand and gave it a tug as she had done to him.
More than happy to oblige, she sat back and peeled the shirt over her head. She left it on top of his and then impulsively settled herself onto his lap. Mmm…What do you know, straddling a guy’s lap still felt as incredibly good as she remembered. The press of a semihard cock against her ass upped the enjoyment factor by about a hundred.
Chris scooted down on the couch a couple inches. His wariness was gone for now at least. His smile went wolfish as he eyed her chest in that panty-evaporating style he had. “Orange suits you well.”
Heat lashed through her breasts, spiking her nipples and warming her blood. She shook her head in mock disgust. “Men are so color challenged. My bra is coral and you’ve already seen it.”
“Not when I was invited to look.”
Yeah, and the difference was clear. Before, he’d appeared interested in her breasts. Now, he appeared as though he wanted to get his hands on them in a big way. She doubted he was the type to hesitate for long. Since she wasn’t either, Claire tapped her fingernail against the mark she presumed to be a scar. “Tell me about this.”
“My best friend from high school was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He kept his attention locked on her breasts as he answered in a sober voice. “I got knifed trying to stop him from being killed.”
“Did you save him?”
Long seconds of silence passed before he lifted his gaze to hers. Playfulness glinting in his eyes, he wiggled his eyebrows. “You owe me some jeans.”
Her mind on his friend as much as getting naked, she stood from his lap and quickly stripped the jeans down her legs. Chris let out a wolf whistle. Then he equally shocked and thrilled her by pulling her sideways between his thighs and swatting her butt. “Boy panties. Gotta love ’em.”
Her ass tingling with awesome sensation, she goaded, “Like boys, do you?”
“Nope. But I like the way these ride up into your cunt when I pull on them.” His fingers came around to the front, tugging the crotch of the panties between her labia and tight against her clit.
Moaning with the erotic chafe of the soft cotton, she sank back onto his lap and ground the crack of her ass against his cock. Between his grunt and the impressive feel of his member through his jeans, it was safe to assume he was no longer semihard but fully engaged and ready for action.
“So, did you save your friend?” she pressed before she either forgot or decided she no longer cared.
His eyes went steely. “That time I did. Why do you call it The Incident?”
Claire heard the words he didn’t speak. Once he’d saved his friend, but another time he hadn’t managed. Chris probably had been in her position. Probably did understand her better than most anyone else could. For now, she chose not to question him further on it, instead leaning forward to tug at a nipple with her teeth. The nipple hardened and his cock jerked against her butt. Taking her butt into his hands, he gave a chastising squeeze.
She reclined back to send him a cheeky smile. “According to my mental coach, I have a small-world complex.” Her smile attempted to falter with her next thought, but she forced it