God’s sake, Liza, I’ve been inside you.”
A ripple went through her, of what she wasn’t entirely sure. Shock at his frankness, excitement at the memory, both of those maybe. Her body turned toward his, as if of its own accord. She had this sense that there were magnets inside them, pulling, forcing them together. Part of her wanted to deny the sensation, but part of her wanted to give in to it the way she had that night.
She felt vulnerable, off balance, and she’d fought so long and hard not to feel that way. She’d become a different version of that scared, helpless girl and she didn’t ever want to be her again. “Talk to me,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, his face so close she could see the velvety fringe of his lashes, the smooth texture of his lips, and the tiny dots of dark stubble on his jaw. She remembered the way it felt against her nipples—
She leaned in even closer, that unseen force pulling, insisting. Wanting. He smelled good, not like any particular product, just like cleanliness and male skin and maybe a hint of some oil he used on the gun holstered at his waist. God, she liked it. She liked it far too much.
Someone cleared his throat behind her and Liza sprang away. Reed moved back as well, and Liza turned to see Chad standing in her doorway. His eyes were narrowed. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.” My God, he heard us.
“We don’t,” she said, standing and smoothing her skirt. Reed stood too, but he wasn’t looking at Chad, he was still looking at her, his expression full of so much disappointment, she had to look away.
Reed turned toward Chad. “Hello, Dr. Headley. I actually stopped by your office first but you were with a patient. Do you have time to answer a few questions now?”
Chad gave Reed a smile, one of those disdainful ones that Liza hated. She cringed inside, hating that he’d walked in and ascertained that she knew Reed. Intimately. For God’s sake, Liza, I’ve been inside you.
“Of course, Detective. Please follow me.”
Reed began to follow him. He looked at Liza and she could tell he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply left the room, closing the door behind him.
She sank back down into her chair, trying desperately to slow the speeding of her heart. She didn’t know if Reed’s departure made her feel relieved or disappointed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Reed turned up the speed on the treadmill, increasing the incline as well, his feet pounding rapidly on the black rubber belt.
He pushed his body, running uphill at maximum speed for fifteen long minutes. When the belt slowed, coming to a halt, Reed brushed his drenched hair back, breathing harshly under the bright LED lights of the gym.
He used a towel to wipe away the perspiration, taking a long drink from his water bottle as he stepped off the machine and walked toward the locker room.
“Good workout?” a brunette in a tight sports bra and running shorts asked, smiling as he approached.
He smiled back. She was pretty and was looking at him with clear interest in her eyes. He should stop, chat for a minute, see where it led . . . “Yeah, thanks. You have a good workout too,” he said as he moved past.
He should, but he didn’t want to.
Because, fuck it all, he couldn’t get another woman off his mind. And not even pushing his body to the damn near breaking point had helped.
Yes. I was using you.
He hated that her words had hurt him. A stranger he’d spent one night with. And then he’d asked her to tell him why, as if it was really any of his business. If she’d used him, he’d basically let her do it. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t gotten anything out of it.
They’d made no promises to each other.
He heard his phone ringing from inside his locker and hurriedly dialed the lock code, swinging the door open and fishing for his phone inside his gym bag.
“Ransom.”
“Morning. Hey, listen, we might have a case from a few months ago that’s similar to our two vics.”
Reed threw his towel over his shoulder as he sat on the bench. Similar? “Well, I know it’s not a pair of missing eyes. We would have heard about that.” The Cincinnati detectives all had their own cases and they didn’t always share specifics. But something unusual and grisly like