came home at night, it was to Jamie McKenna. It felt like a little miracle. Sometimes he’d be at his computer, writing … or plotting, maybe. To my relief, Jamie had told me that Ethan Wright was under investigation with Internal Affairs and we’d hopefully hear soon that charges had been filed against him.
Wright and Kramer were crossed off the list.
But that didn’t stop the moments when I felt Jamie was somewhere far away, even when he was right there beside me. I knew he still planned to take down Foster Steadman, and I knew he still wanted me to find out what I could about Elena Marshall’s personal life. I wasn’t ignoring his need for closure. I still wanted that for him. However, I was afraid that we’d sacrifice what was important to get it.
So instead, I distracted him.
With sex. Hours and hours of sex that should have satisfied a craving but only exacerbated our thirst. We had years to make up for, after all.
I also distracted him with conversation.
I wanted to know what I’d missed these past six years and tell him about what he’d missed.
During those conversations, he asked me for advice regarding adaptation rights to Brent 29. It was my opinion that Jamie should do what made him feel comfortable, but I also explained how I thought the book read like a movie and was ripe for adaptation. I could see how it could be turned into a miniseries, too, and despite my proximity to movies and TV, I still thought it would be cool to see Jamie’s story come to life.
He told his agent, Susan, that he’d sign the deal.
The only thing we’d argued about in the last week was Jamie’s refusal to remove the bug from Asher’s car. When I brought it up, he got moody and snapped at me.
So I stormed out of his apartment and wouldn’t let him into mine.
“Open the door, Jane,” he said in that dangerously calm tone of his.
“Not until you discuss this like a grown-up.”
“I can hardly do that with a door between us. You want to talk about childish?”
Realizing he was right, I huffed in annoyance and threw the door open. Jamie crowded me back into the apartment, closing the door. His chest pushed into mine, forcing me against the wall where he caged me in.
My skin tingled with exhilaration even though I was pissed at him.
“It shouldn’t matter to you what I do to Asher,” Jamie said, his breath whispering over my lips. “He betrayed you.”
“And I told you that I can’t just switch off my feelings and stop caring about him.”
His face clouded over. “I don’t want you to care about him.”
“I’m allowed to care about other people, Jamie.”
“Not other men!”
“Don’t yell at me!” I yelled back.
His eyes flashed. “Stop driving me crazy!”
“I don’t have sexual feelings for Asher. He’s like a brother. Remove that goddamn bug from his car, or so help me God, Jamie, I will find it and destroy what I’m guessing is a pretty expensive piece of equipment.”
Jamie’s answer was to slam his mouth down over mine to shut me up. I let him, caught up in the excitement and thrill of just being with him again. We were frantic and needy, him yanking my underwear down my legs, me plucking at the buttons on his jeans.
Only minutes after the argument I was in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, and he was inside me, screwing me against my living room wall. My gasps and his grunts filled our ears as he took me hard and fast and without mercy.
The orgasm blew the roof off my head. When the shuddering shivers of climax finally settled, our breaths slowing, I curled my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. His face was pressed to my throat where he’d buried it as he came.
“Nice try.” I still sounded breathless. “But you’re removing that bug from Asher’s car.”
Jamie groaned as he lifted his head. He stared at me, sated heat and affection on his face. He kissed me and then whispered, “If it means that much to you, I’ll get rid of the bug.”
I was pulled from those heated memories by the sight of Elena departing the yellow building. My skin flushed. Not just with my body’s constant readiness for Jamie McKenna but because I was about to do something that might cause another argument between us.
Or worse.
I hurried out of my car and across the street to where Elena