Slenderman by CeeRee Fields (good novels to read TXT) 📗

felt special. The desire she felt for him simmered just below the surface waiting for a touch, a look, or a taste of him before flaming hot. They knew each other’s hotspots, knew how to drive the other to lose their mind, and she especially loved how they could slow it down and drag the lovemaking out for hours.

Her skin sparked as he mapped her like the first time. Both of them needed the reminder they were alive. After this morning with Ned and after the incident with the pimp, she knew he needed to see her skin to verify she was unharmed. Just as she needed the same after walking out to meet him and seeing a guy almost cave Rhys’s head in with a tire iron.

The scar from where he’d been shot didn’t detract; instead, it hit home how close she’d come to losing him once before. Just as she brushed her fingers across the scar on his upper thigh, he nibbled up the side of her neck.

Their ever-present heat flamed. His fingers clutched at her as his mouth sucked up marks that her clothes would cover.

Then he was gone, his ass flexing as he rushed to the cabinet next to the refrigerator. He yanked the Prune box off the top shelf and pulled a condom out. Tossing the box on the counter, he was sheathed, and pressing into her before her skin cooled.

“Rhys,” she whispered across his ear.

He cupped the back of her head and tipped her lips to his. His tongue drove into her. The copper taste of his blood made her growl in anger, but the sound was devoured in the all-consuming kiss.

Jo was lost to him as she answered his unspoken demand for her surrender. The edge he could rush her to so easily came over as he demanded her surrender. Demanded her release. Stars sparkled behind her eyelids as her body shuddered. He followed her over the edge. Wanting to see him, she forced her heavy lids up and was rewarded with his head thrown back, the tendons in his neck bulging as he shouted her name.

His weight settled over her and she held him. A few minutes later he stood and stepped away. She pushed herself from the table. Leaving her clothes where they were, she tossed a smile over her shoulder. “Shower and then I’ll meet you in bed.”

His amber gaze met hers with a teasing glint. “Sounds like a plan.”

“First one there has to wash the other’s back.” She tossed over her shoulder hurrying into the hallway.

Exhaustion forgotten, she turned to race down the hall.

~ ~ ~

A pat to her rear and a kiss pressed to the back of her neck roused Jo. They’d made love in Rhys’s office since he’d caught her before she had only made it a few steps into the hallway. The door to his home office had been cracked, and they decided to christen his desk. Hunger drove them from the office and back to the kitchen where Jo had grabbed his shirt from the floor and Rhys had pulled on his boxers before putting together sandwiches. Sated, they’d cleaned up and headed for the master suite where she and Rhys had relaxed in the garden tub. Exhaustion had finally sent them stumbling to bed.

“How late is it?” she asked, her face buried in her pillow.

“Almost three and before you worry, I tossed our clothes into the laundry room. What time do you go in tonight?” he asked.

She groaned and rolled over. “Sullivan and I are hitting Southside to look for the homeless guy who stabbed the man in the parking deck.”

“Did the stabbed man make it?”

She loved how worried Rhys was for someone he didn’t know. His open heart was one of the things that had pulled at her when they first started dating. When he’d carefully tucked a victim’s dress around her before zipping the body bag closed, Jo had been hooked. He cared about everyone, and it was now her job to make sure no one preyed on his altruism.

“Yeah, but the couple who found him were so focused on keeping him alive, they didn’t pay a lot of attention to the homeless man. So Sullivan and I hit a few hookers up last night.” Jo groaned. “And then we had to arrest a pimp because he tried to cut Sullivan, I told you about that. Now we’re going to hit a few of the homeless pockets and see if we can grab him.”

She watched Rhys’s fingers adroitly button his cream-colored button-down and strap on his leather watch. Each motion was economical and precise. It was a rare treat to watch him dress. Unlike her, he took his time and checked that each piece of clothing hung just so before moving on to the next piece. Even tucking in his shirt was precise, as he undid his belt buckle then the button of his pants before lowering them to his thighs and smoothing the hem over his tight white boxer briefs. Done, he eased the pants up and tucked the hem down again, so the shirt hugged his waist with his pants buttoned and the belt buckle closed.

“Do you think he’d have hung around?”

She answered after he had made the last tuck. “Probably. The wackadoos always hang around.”

“Josephine Lavette Rayburn—”

“What? The guy is off his rocker, Rhys. His elevator does not go all the way to the top. He’s one sandwich short of—”

“I got it. But how would you know that fact?”

“He was praying over the guy he was stabbing, talking about needing to cleanse the guy’s blood.”

He shook his head. “What you’re saying is the homeless guy will need to be admitted to the psych ward for a while.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, be careful and call me if you bring him to the hospital. Dr. Carmichael owes us one now, we’ll see if he can get the poor man admitted and seen to.” Rhys slid his lips over hers. Before she could drag him