Fifth Grave Past the Light Page 63

“Dutch,” he said into my ear, his hold so tight, I should have screamed in agony, but I relished the feel, the strength of his orgasm as it crashed into me. He tensed, his breathing labored as it shuddered through him in sweet, astonishing waves.

When he came down off his high, he rolled over and took me with him until I was on top. Then he locked his arms around me, refusing to let go. Not that I wanted him to. He sought the comfort of my neck, burying his face in the crook before saying with a muffled voice, “We should date.”

I laughed, curled him into my arms, and kissed the soft spot underneath his earlobe. “You’re going to have to go to obedience school for that to happen. You have authority issues.”

“Never mind. We should have sex again and then date.”

“Since you put it that way, okay.” I squeaked out a protest when he rolled me back over with a growl and started the whole thing again.

It was a pretty weak protest.

14

If god is watching us, the least we can do is be entertaining.

—BUMPER STICKER

Someone was knocking. Pounding. And as I fought the lids that wanted to stay closed and the body that wanted to stay horizontal, I swore by all things holy someone was going down. Whether that someone ended up being the intruder or me remained to be seen, but come morning, one of us would by lying on the ground, moaning in agony.

“What the bloody hell?” Reyes asked, fighting lethargy as well.

I tried to answer, but my voice came out sounding more like a rabid moose with a head cold, so I shut up and wiggled out from under his arm and Artemis’s hind legs. Then I fell off the bed, which wasn’t that unusual.

“You okay?” Reyes asked, his face buried in a thick down pillow. The guy had taste.

“Mmm,” was all I could manage as I navigated the room in search of underwear and a bra. I just had them. How far could they have gotten?

The knock sounded again. Then voices. Then footsteps followed by a lighter tapping on Reyes’s door, and I realized the earlier knocking had not been on his door but either Cookie’s or mine. Artemis raised her head, but only for a moment before sleep won out.

I found the towel Reyes had been wearing and wrapped myself into it. If people were going to knock on doors in the middle of the night, they needed to be prepared for the consequences. After dodging a coffee table and narrowly missing a planter, I found the door and opened it. Then I saw the front door, so I closed the pantry door and headed that direction.

Another soft knock sounded. More voices.

“What?” I asked, tearing open the door. I could almost see at that point, though everything was a blur of grays and blues. Until I saw Cookie.

“Oh, Charley,” she said, wearing a fuchsia robe and lime green slippers. My pupils constricted in horror. “Mr. Swopes was looking for you.”

“Call me Garrett,” he said to Cookie.

She smiled bashfully. Darn it. Uncle Bob had better get a move on.

Then Garrett turned to me. “Charles. Late night?”

“What the f**k, Swopes?” I still sounded like I had a head cold. “Do you know how rude it is to knock on someone’s door at —” I had no idea what time it was. “— early in the morning?”

“I thought that was your favorite pastime.” He wore a heavy tan jacket and had a backpack thrown over his shoulder.

Reyes walked up behind me in a pair of long pajama bottoms, his hair mussed, his jaw shadowed, his lashes tangled. Tangled! Freaking men. Sexy just didn’t get any sexier. Cookie sucked in a soft breath when she saw him. Garrett stiffened.

“It is,” I continued, rubbing my left eye with a fist, “but I’m privileged. You have no excuse.”

“Can I sever his spine?” Reyes asked. He put his arms on the doorjambs on either side of me and stepped forward until his body molded to mine.

Garrett straightened further, accepting the challenge. They were almost the same height, same build, same blinding good looks. I had such a hard life.

“Don’t even think about it,” I said under my breath. I looked up and chastised Reyes with my infamous death stare, then led Garrett to my apartment, opened the door, and shoved him inside. “Wait here,” I said, adding a warning edge to my voice before going back for my clothes. “Sorry he woke you, Cook.”

“Can I make some coffee?” she asked, the hope in her voice so endearing, I couldn’t possibly refuse her. “Sure. Though I think Swopes is more of a beer guy.”

“Coffee’s fine,” he said from inside my abode.

I grinned at her. “Coffee it is.”

Garrett called out again. “And bring your boyfriend with you.”

After tearing her eyes off Reyes, Cookie headed into my apartment while I herded the son of evil back into his and hurried to find my clothes. How my socks ended up in the kitchen sink was beyond me, but I found everything else with relative ease and began getting dressed in the stylish contemporary bathroom. My bathroom was contemporary, too. Or it would be if we were living in the late seventies.

Reyes stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, watching me with a particular interest as I jumped to get my pants up faster. “I didn’t realize you two were so close,” he said.

The sensation radiating off him raked over me, left tiny slits in my skin as though someone had thrown a box of razor blades at me. I sucked air in through my teeth, suddenly understanding what he went through earlier at the bar. This was jealousy.

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