of her shorts.
“Rhys!”
His hands slid under her panties, two fingers pumping inside her.
She moaned, her hips moving.
“You’re drenched,” he said.
She made a husky sound and rocked.
“Yeah, ride my hand, baby.”
She did and he gripped her hip, helping her move.
“Oh God.” Her head fell back, giving him a view of her long neck.
“That’s it.” He thumbed her clit.
“Rhys.” She rocked harder.
“Look at me, Haven. Now.”
Her head fell forward, their gazes locked.
“Come,” he ordered.
He watched her orgasm roll over her. Her thighs trapped his hand, and she shuddered and moaned his name.
Pure beauty, right there. He earned this. Every dirty fight, every dusty hellhole, every cursed mission had brought him to this.
She collapsed against him, her face pressed to his neck.
He liked holding her limp, well-pleasured body as much as he liked pleasuring her. He stroked his hand down her back.
“We need to shower and get to work.” He needed to find the thieves and whoever the fuck was pulling their strings.
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled.
“That includes you, beautiful.”
“What?” She blinked at him.
“You’re coming with me to the Norcross office. Shower first.”
She lifted her head. “Am I showering alone?”
“Yes, otherwise I’ll spend the next few hours fucking you, and we’ll be late.”
She licked her lips and he felt it in his gut. He slapped her ass. “Move it, and I’ll go make some breakfast.”
“You can cook?”
“I can toast bread and scramble an egg.” That and grilling were about the extent of his cooking abilities, much to his mother’s dismay. Clara Norcross loved to cook, preferably hearty Italian food, but it hadn’t rubbed off on Rhys.
He gave Haven a slow kiss, and took his time. He waited until she had that dazed look on her face. It made him smile.
“Now, get moving, babe.”
Chapter Ten
She’d never been to the Norcross office before.
As Rhys led Haven inside, she took it all in. Unsurprisingly, it was a gorgeous space. Huge and open, with an industrial vibe. There were touches of wood and metal, with a polished-concrete floor. It definitely said “badasses work here.”
Rhys’ office was all glass walls. His desk was…messy.
“How do you find anything?” she asked.
He shot her a smile. “I know where everything is.”
“I don’t buy that, at all.”
There were sticky notes everywhere, stacks of files, half-scribbled-on notepads, and pieces of paper dotted all over.
Her gaze fell on his smile. He had a really, really nice one. It made her remember what they’d done in his bed that morning. Her body tingled. It wanted more. Meanwhile, her brain was screaming at her to run.
“Haven, if you’re still trying to go with the sworn-off-men thing, stop looking at me like that.”
She licked her lips.
“Stop that, too,” he said.
She looked away. Across the space, she spotted a man and froze. Wow. He was really muscular with smooth, brown skin, and cropped, dark hair. He glanced her way, and she almost swallowed her tongue. He was gorgeous, with strong features, a hard jaw, and pale green eyes. He nodded at her and she waved.
He looked like a movie star. He looked like he should be in an action movie, scaling cliffs and leaping out of planes.
“You can stop drooling now,” Rhys said, tone amused.
“Who is that?” she asked.
“Rome. He’s our main guy for bodyguard duty. Guy has a sixth sense for trouble.” Rhys pushed a chair over to her. “Sit.”
She sat and watched as Rhys dropped in his chair. He pulled a file across his desk and opened it.
“I forgot to mention that my friend Harry called,” she said. “He’s an art dealer. He heard a rumor of an underground auction of a very expensive painting.”
Rhys’ gaze sharpened. “He have any details?”
She shook her head.
“How good of a friend is this Harry?” Rhys’ tone turned growly.
“Very good. He’s handsome, a good dresser, kind, funny, and an art lover.”
Rhys gripped the arms of her chair and wheeled her closer, scowling.
“I get on very well with him and his husband, Trent.”
Rhys relaxed. “You’re a pain in my ass. That’s earned you some punishment.”
She just smiled at him. God, it was nice to feel safe. To know that this man was looking out for her.
“I need to make some calls to Miami,” he said.
Her good feelings plummeted. “About Leo.”
“Yeah. Kitchen’s over there.” He pointed. “Get yourself some coffee. And you need to call your insurance.”
Leaving him to his calls, she puttered around in the glossy kitchen and made herself a latte. She turned, and through the glass wall, saw Rhys leaning back in his chair, deep in conversation on the phone.
She hadn’t