She sucked in her breath. “Okay. I’m going.”

“Yes. Go.” Jack pulled himself up and kissed her—just one last time. Then he felt Cameron’s hands unzipping the fly of his jeans. She reached into his boxers, and he groaned as she wrapped her hand around him.

He peered down and saw the sparkle in her eyes.

Work would just have to wait a few damn minutes.

“Do you have any condoms left in your suitcase?” he asked raggedly, at least having the presence of mind to think of that while she worked him over. The woman had the most incredible hands.

“Top outer pocket,” Cameron said.

Jack stepped away, swore as he rummaged around, finally realized he was in the wrong pocket, grabbed a condom, and came back.

Holy f**k.

The little minx had taken the initiative of slipping off her jeans.

But she’d left the naughty-boots on.

“You know I feel naked without my heels,” Cameron said.

Jack tossed the condom onto the stairs. He shrugged off his blazer, then took off his gun harness and set it on the stairs next to the condom.

“Slide up two steps,” he ordered her.

She did. He spread her legs and knelt between them on a lower step. He watched her eyes widen as he slid one of her legs over his shoulder, then the other. He felt her tremble as he bent down and licked the top lacy edge of her panties.

“Jack . . .” she murmured, threading her fingers through his hair.

He hooked his finger around the waistband of her panties and pulled them down a few inches. He lowered his mouth.

Cameron moaned. “Oh god, you are the devil . . .”

Enough said.

Twenty-eight

CAMERON STOOD IN her closet, zipping her bridesmaid’s dress into a garment bag, when she noticed a figure hovering in the doorway.

“Were you just singing ‘Bette Davis Eyes’?” Jack asked with a lazy grin.

Cameron blushed, not having realized that’s what she’d been doing. Nice—a mind-blowing double orgasm and Jack literally had her singing.

“I might have been humming a little,” she said nonchalantly.

He cocked his head. “I thought that was your song with Collin.”

She laughed at this. “I don’t have a ‘song’ with Collin. It’s just a song I like.”

Jack appeared somewhat appeased by this. “Your Internet connection is too slow.”

Thank God—he was cranky about something. This Jack she could handle. The Jack who cupped her face as he whispered the most romantic and sexy things anyone had ever said to her as he made love to her on her own staircase, on the other hand, was a force of a different nature.

“You mentioned that the other day,” she said. “I’ve never had a problem with my connection before. Are you trying to run some super-fast secret agent program?”

“Yes. But it’s slow even for that.”

His teasing eyes made her stomach do a little flip. So this is what it’s like to fall in lov—hold on—not going to go there yet, Cameron told herself. She’d been dating Jack for all of—what—two days?

“I hope you’re not looking to me for answers about this Internet thing,” she told him. “If there’s a problem, I turn the computer off and then on again. If that doesn’t fix it, I call Collin.”

Jack folded his arms across his chest. “I think we need to talk about this Collin dependency. Because there’s a new sheriff in town.”

“Hmm. That’s a little alpha for my tastes,” Cameron said with a disapproving air.

She tried not to look totally turned on.

“I’m going to take a look upstairs at your computer,” Jack said. “Maybe one of your neighbors is tapping into your wireless signal. It’s easy to do in the city, with houses as close as they are. What’s your password?”

“You won’t need one. I leave the computer running and just let it go into sleep mode whenever I’m not using it.”

Jack threw her a look that said this was a big no-no. “I think I now know why you’re having Internet problems.”

“What is it you’re trying to do from your laptop, anyway?” Cameron asked.

“Just a few things I want to have ready when Wilkins calls. I can log onto the Bureau’s network remotely—I want to take another look at Lombard’s cell phone records that we pulled a couple weeks ago. Plus I’ve been thinking about setting up a trace on his phone, although I’ll need one of the tech guys to help me with that. Then we can track everywhere Lombard’s been—at least with his phone—over the last few days.”

Cameron put the bridesmaid’s dress back into its spot on the rack behind the door. She glanced over her shoulder. “Without a warrant, that sounds highly illegal.”

“Legal, illegal, there are so many gray areas.”

“I didn’t hear that, Jack.”

“Nothing to hear, counselor. I never said a word.”

WHEN HE REACHED the third floor, Jack turned left and headed into the office. Cameron’s desk faced the window, overlooking her front yard and the street below. Jack went over to the desk and took a seat. When he moved the mouse, the computer sprang to life.

Possibly, he just needed to reboot the system since she’d left it running for who knew how long. Still, he wanted to be sure. He checked to see how many computers were linked to her router—as he’d said to her, maybe someone was pilfering her wireless connection and that was slowing everything down.