‘I didn’t use too much of your hot water,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know how big your tank was.’

Abruptly she closed her mouth and leaned against the door frame, trying for cool and knowing she was failing utterly. ‘It’s tankless. It heats the water as you need it. You can run it until you’re a giant prune and not run out.’

‘Good to know.’ He spread his arms wide, making her mouth water. ‘So then, come on in. The water’s warm.’

‘In a minute. I want to look. You are . . .’ She sighed again. ‘Just as I knew you’d be.’

‘You’re wearing too many clothes, Detective,’ he said lightly. She stepped back into her bedroom to strip, but he wagged his finger. ‘No, no. Stand there. It’s only fair.’

‘Just a minute.’ She took off the vest, placing her phone on the nightstand and her gun in the drawer. She considered not checking her messages, but knew she had to. Thankfully there were none. They had a momentary lull and she was taking advantage of it.

She returned to the doorway to peel her shirt over her head, revealing the bra she’d put on after her morning shower. She’d chosen it thinking about the way he’d look at her when he saw it. Pink and lacy, it was one of her very favorites.

His grin faded, his expression becoming the same one that had made her kiss him up against that SUV. ‘Come here,’ he said quietly, and she walked to the open shower door while her legs shook like jelly. He ran his finger under the scalloped lace edge of the bra, teasing her. Tempting her. ‘So damn pretty.’ He met her eyes. ‘I like it. Take it off before I tear it off.’

It was a front clasp, and he groaned when she popped it open. ‘That’s all I had to do?’

She laughed and let it fall to the floor, gratified at his sharp intake of breath.

‘My God,’ he whispered, then stole her breath by taking a breast in each hand reverently, measuring their weight. He kissed the slope of each one, then dropped his hands to his sides, clenching them into fists. ‘Keep going, but hurry. You’re killing me here.’

She didn’t comply, taking her time in pulling out all the pins that held her braid in place. He watched silently, his eyes missing not a single movement as she removed the last pin, her braid falling to the middle of her back as she dumped the pins in a pile on the vanity. She started to loosen the braid, but he stopped her.

‘Let me,’ he said quietly. He began untangling her hair and running his fingers through it. ‘I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you. I’ve fantasized about your hair spread all over my pillow.’ He smiled. ‘Spread all over me.’

Her arousal growing exponentially now, she kicked off her shoes and pushed her slacks to the floor, leaving her clad only in her matching pink lace panties, along with socks and an ankle holster.

His chest expanded as he inhaled. ‘Very nice,’ he said gruffly. ‘The ankle holster is hot. Makes you look very badass.’

‘I think the pink lace cancels any badass-itude,’ she said, hooking her pinkie in the string that held the front and back triangles together.

‘It’s a synergistic effect. Trust me on this. Are your panties wet?’

She drew a deep breath. ‘If they hadn’t been already, they would be now. But they’ve been wet every time I’ve been around you today.’ She dropped to one knee to take off the ankle holster, then came to her feet. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘Hurry.’

She obeyed, quickly putting the backup gun next to her service weapon in the nightstand drawer, but when she returned, Marcus was leaning back against the shower wall, slowly stroking himself.

Scarlett couldn’t have looked away if someone had threatened to shoot her on the spot. ‘You started without me.’

His dark brows lifted, making him look like a smug Greek god. ‘I told you to hurry.’

Yanking off the socks, she shimmied out of the panties and kicked them aside. She joined him in the shower, closed the door and turned on the spray.

He pulled her under the water, playing with her hair as it grew soaking wet. He squirted shampoo into his hands and began to wash her hair, strong, long strokes on her scalp. She moaned and leaned her back against his front, letting him drive some of the tension from her shoulders and neck even as he built a sweeter tension between her legs.

‘You have a lot of hair, Detective,’ he said, his mouth next to her ear. His soapy hand slid down the front of her body, lightly caressing one breast before darting between her thighs, one wicked finger delving deep into the part of her that had already been wet for him. Her gasp made him chuckle. ‘This could take a while.’

She wasn’t sure if he meant the washing of her hair or the slow stroking he was doing with that finger of his. She didn’t care. Didn’t think. Just leaned into him and savored the contact after so many months alone. He wasn’t rushed, didn’t hurry. He just stroked her, languidly working her into a delicious froth until she began thrusting against him, urging him to go faster. Harder.

She protested when he withdrew the finger, using both his hands to rinse the shampoo from her hair, then casually sniffing the various bottles of body wash in the caddy hanging from the shower, as if they had all the time in the world. ‘Marcus,’ she said, her voice husky. ‘Hurry.’

‘This is the one I like,’ he announced, picking the honeysuckle-scented body wash and pouring it into his hand. He washed her thoroughly, torturing her with touches that were far too light and far too fast, chuckling when she cursed him.

‘You’re enjoying this,’ she accused when he went down on his haunches to soap up her legs, massaging her calves and feet.

He picked up her handheld sprayer and started rinsing her body with warm water, a teasing smile on his face. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Yes, but— Oh God.’ She choked on the words when he abruptly rocked forward to his knees, slid his hands up the backs of her thighs to grab her butt and buried his face between her legs, licking up into her. ‘Oh God. Yes. There. Please.’

In seconds he had her whimpering, moaning, her legs threatening to fold beneath her. She clutched his hair, her hips thrusting to get closer, get him deeper. She was close, so close. Then . . . ‘No!’ she cried when, as abruptly as he’d started, he lurched to his feet, leaving her on the edge and ready to claw his shoulders to make him go back down. Until she saw his face.

He was no longer smiling, his eyes dark and glittering with need. Without looking away from her, he turned the water off, backed her against the wall and kissed her so hard she saw little white lights floating behind her eyelids. He broke off, letting her gulp air into her burning lungs, then lifted her arms around his neck, curved his hands over her butt and shoved the shower door open with his shoulder. He picked her up, and she wound her legs around his hips, wiggling to get his erection up inside her folds, rocking against him as he carried her out of the bathroom. Once in the bedroom, he carefully laid her down on the bed, both of them still soaking wet, the overhead lights blazingly bright.

But she didn’t have even another second to think about the wet, because he followed her down, sliding down her body until his mouth was between her legs again. He didn’t lick, but went straight for her clit, sucking it into his mouth, making her scream. He didn’t stop, sucking her hard, and then his finger was back inside her, then two, stroking her faster and harder and higher.

The orgasm exploded inside her. Hands clawing at the sheets on her bed, her body arched like a bow and she tried to breathe, but the air was stuck in her lungs. And still he didn’t stop, sucking and stroking until the wave broke and she collapsed, shuddering and gasping.

And crying. She was crying, tears pouring from her eyes, a sob pushing its way out of her chest. Instantly he was there, hovering over her, brushing the tears away.