The Investigator: Norcross Series

by Hackett, Anna

  “I think you should come on my cock, not my fingers.”

  “Rhys, please.” Her body arched.

  “Or maybe, I’ll make you come on my hand, then again on my cock.” He slid his fingers back inside her. His thumb found her clit.

  “Rhys!”

  She rocked against his hand, and her scream felt like a prize. Her body squeezed down on his fingers as she came, and he kept working her, watching every emotion that crossed her face.

  So damn expressive.

  Finally, she slumped back, panting, her lips swollen.

  Rhys yanked his belt free. He had to have her. Now.

  He pulled a foil packet out of his pocket, then shoved his jeans down and kicked them off. Then his boxers followed, and his cock sprang free.

  Haven rose up on one elbow, her hungry gaze on him. She took in his naked body, then stared at his cock. He fisted his erection and pumped.

  Her chest hitched. “You’re big.”

  “It’s all yours, baby.” He grabbed her and slid her toward the edge of the table.

  She gasped.

  He pushed up against her, his hands spreading her thighs. “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Mine,” she whispered.

  “Yours.”

  He quickly tore the condom package open, and rolled it on. Then he pushed forward, sliding his swollen cock against her wet warmth.

  She moaned. He pushed until the head of his cock was inside her. They both moaned.

  Her arms and legs wrapped around him.

  “Do it,” she ordered.

  Rhys plunged into Haven—hard and deep.

  Her cry was loud, her nails digging into his shoulders.

  Tight, hot. He gritted his teeth. “Haven.”

  “So big. So good.”

  Rhys reared back and thrust hard. The table rocked beneath them. He picked up his pace.

  “Hold on, Haven.” His hips slammed into her, in and out of her wet heat. He felt sensation building in his gut, balls, the base of his spine.

  “Yes, Rhys, harder.”

  “Baby.”

  Their eyes met.

  “Connected,” she whispered.

  Hell yeah, connected. He was deep inside her. So fucking good.

  “Come again,” he growled.

  “I’m not sure—”

  He changed the angle of his thrusts, tilting her hips. Her husky cries filled the air.

  “Damn, need you, Haven.”

  “Rhys!”

  She came again hard. She whimpered, her body shuddering, pussy clenching on him.

  Rhys’ release hit him like a knockout punch. A roar echoed through his head and every muscle in his body locked.

  With one last thrust, he ran his teeth along her neck. Then he sank his teeth into the tendon there, and heard her cry out as his body shuddered through his white-hot release.

  * * *

  Haven did not care one bit that the table was hard against her back.

  Her body tingled everywhere. Her breathing was still fast. Rhys’ body was slumped on hers, his face against her hair.

  Wow.

  She stroked a hand down his back. He shifted and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck where he’d bitten her.

  Their gazes met, then his head lowered and he kissed her.

  Oh.

  Her hands drifted to his hair, lazily massaging as he kissed her. This time it was slow and deep, with a surprising edge of sweet.

  She hummed into his mouth and shivered.

  “Got to take care of this condom,” he said. “Be right back.”

  He pulled out of her and she let out a little sound.

  He grinned at her then stalked away, and she had just enough energy to stare at the hardest, most amazing ass she’d ever seen.

  Haven guessed she should feel embarrassed, lying naked on Rhys’ table. She waited a second. Nope. Post-the-best-sex-that-she’d-ever-had bliss was in full effect.

  Rhys came back, still gloriously naked, and pressed his hands to the table either side of her body.

  “You going to sleep on the table?”

  “Maybe,” she answered.

  He grinned and a curl of heat ignited in her belly. Oh, boy.

  He lifted her and she found herself tossed over a hard shoulder. A big hand pressed to her ass.

  “Rhys!”

  That earned her a grunt. He walked down the hall and into his bedroom. He laid her on the bed and she stared up at him. Out the window, she saw the lights of the Bay Bridge.

  He reached over and flicked on the lamp on the bedside table, washing them in a warm glow.

  It just made him look better. The light caressed his hard body, making it a fascinating pattern of gold skin and shadowed dips. She wanted to explore all those intriguing tattoos. She’d never had a thing for tattoos before, but on Rhys…yum.

  “Can check the table off the list of places where I want to fuck you.” He pressed a knee to the bed.

  She saw his long, thick cock getting hard again.

  “Bed next,” he said.

  Haven fought a rush of dampness between her legs. “How many places are on this list?”

  His eyes flashed. “Everywhere.”

  She thought he’d reach for her, but instead he leaned back against the pillows lined up against the metal headboard.

  Then one strong hand circled his cock, and he started stroking himself.

  Her belly went tight.

  “What do you want now, Haven?”

  Her chest filled with air and desire hummed through her. You. Everything.

  He lifted his other hand and crooked his finger.

  She crawled across the bed toward him. God, he had a beautiful cock. She knelt between his legs, and looked up his powerful, sexy body. His bronze skin was a beautiful contrast to the white sheets. On his face, she saw desire and, more than that, a need to possess.

  This man wanted to possess her.

  She wrapped her hand around his cock and made a fist. He grunted. She dragged her hand up from root to tip.

  His grunt turned to a groan. “Baby.”

  “I like this big cock.” It swelled in her hand.

  “It likes you, too. Now, you going to suck it?”

  She lowered her head. “Is that what you want?” Her lips brushed the tip.

  Rhys hissed out a breath. He shifted, and the swollen head brushed across her lips. Haven opened her mouth and sucked him deep.

  He muttered a curse, his hips pumping up. She slid up, then sucked him back in. One big hand slid into her hair. Not to direct her, but like he needed to ground himself.

  She hummed on his cock. She loved the salty, musky taste of him. She licked and sucked, laved her tongue along his hard length.

  “That’s so good, angel.” His voice was deep and raspy. “I love your sweet mouth.”

  As she kept working him, his big body tensed. She saw the muscles in his abs straining.

  Then suddenly, he yanked her off him.

  “No.” She wasn’t done. She wanted to watch him come.

  He pulled her up his body. God, she loved how strong he was, that he could so easily move her around. He pulled her thighs either side of his head.

  Haven’s eyes popped open. Oh, oh.

  “Prettiest pussy I’ve seen.” His mouth closed over her.

  “Rhys!” Haven grabbed the headboard, her knuckles turning white.

  His tongue plunged inside her and she couldn’t even cry out his name, all she could do was make hungry, desperate sounds.

  He licked and sucked, lavishing her clit with attention. His stubble scraped her skin. Soon, her hips were bucking.

  “Yeah, ride my face, baby.”

  With a deep groan, she came. So damn hard. Her back arched, her head fell back, and she screamed.

  Her body was still shaking, pleasure coursing through her like the sweetest drug, when Rhys lifted her again.

  She found herself on her hands and knees in the center of his bed.
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  “Look, Haven.”

  She lifted her head. The mirror on the wall gave her the perfect view of the two of them.

  Rhys was on his knees behind her, and she heard the crinkle of foil before he rolled the condom on. Her belly contracted.

  His hands slid between her cheeks, stroked, and she moaned.

  Then his hands slid up her spine to her shoulder blades. He pushed and she lowered her head to the bed, pressing her cheek to the covers so she could watch them in the mirror.

  Haven shivered, and watched one of his hands wrap around her waist, while the other one circled his cock.

  He looked like a conquering king, about to claim his spoils of war.

  He thrust into her.

  Haven moaned.

  “You like my cock, angel?”

  She moaned again.

  He moved inside her, not fast, but deep and firm. “You are so damn beautiful. I have the perfect view of your body taking my cock. You were made for my cock, Haven.”

  Rhys leaned over her, covering her body with his. One of his hands slid down her arm, their fingers tangling together.

  How could she feel this connected to him? Like they were one. She was surrounded by him—his strength, his power, his possessiveness.

  Right now, there was only Rhys. The rest of the world did not exist.

  He picked up speed, powering inside her. Haven felt her release building again. She shoved back against him, needing more.

  “Can’t get enough, can you?” he growled.

  “Can’t get close enough to you,” she panted.

  She felt his fingers convulse on hers.

  Then she came in a blinding rush. She shoved back against his strong body, his name torn from her lips. “Rhys.”

  “Haven.” Another hard, violent thrust and he came. His roar echoed in her ears as she rode through the shockwaves of her orgasm.

  Rhys’ arms wrapped around her as they collapsed on the bed. She looked into the mirror and saw one muscled, tattooed arm banded across her naked body.

  Warmth unfolded inside her chest. She felt a prick of panic in the back of her head, but she pushed it away.

  There was nowhere else she wanted to be right now except in Rhys’ arms.

  He kissed her shoulder. “Sleep, baby.”

  Warm, well-pleasured, and feeling safe, she did.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rhys woke and stretched one arm over his head.

  Damn. They hadn’t gotten much sleep, but he didn’t regret a thing.

  He reached out and found no warm, soft body beside him, but he heard water running in his bathroom.

  He stuffed a pillow under his head and eyed the bed. The sheets were nearly torn off. He pulled the corner of one sheet over his naked body and smiled. Haven McKinney hid a hot, wild, sex kitten under her tight skirts.

  He heard her humming as she brushed her teeth, and his smile widened. He liked this—feeling good, lazy, his woman in his bathroom.

  Now he just had to convince her not to be scared of it.

  He heard the water shut off. As he lay there, Rhys realized that for the first time in a really long time, he didn’t feel that gnawing need in his gut to leap out of bed and get moving. The urge to get out, find something to distract himself, to stay in motion. He knew that it was when you stopped that old demons caught you.

  But right now, his demons were quiet.

  Haven sauntered out of the bathroom. She was in one of his T-shirts. It was too big for her—it hit her at mid-thigh, and the neckline slid down one shoulder.

  A silky-smooth shoulder. His cock woke up. Shit, when was the last time a shoulder had turned him on?

  Her hair was a sleep-mussed mess. All that brown hair gave him ideas.

  Her steps slowed. “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  Her gaze ran over him. He just had the twist of the sheet covering his hips, one leg uncovered.

  She swallowed. “You look like a debauched rock star.”

  “Well, the debauched part is right.”

  Color flared in her cheeks. She twisted her hair up in a messy pile on her head and fastened it with a band. “I’ll cook us some breakfast. Then I want to go over everything we have on the Water Lilies.”

  Rhys was momentarily distracted. As she lifted her arms up to do her hair, the hem of the T-shirt lifted. He saw several more inches of those slender thighs. Was she wearing panties?

  “Rhys?”

  Her words registered. “We?”

  “Yes.” Her chin lifted. “I’m going to help you find the painting.”

  He was tempted to lock her up somewhere safe, far, far away from San Francisco, and anything to do with the painting.

  But he knew she’d fight him.

  The only other alternative was to stick to her every second.

  “Come here,” he said.

  She hesitated, but then she moved and pressed a knee to the bed. “Rhys—”

  Using his lightning-fast reflexes, he yanked her on top of him.

  “You got panties on under that?” She was half sprawled on him, and he reached out and gripped her leg, just above her knee.

  “I’m not answering that.” She sniffed. “I told you, you have nothing to do with any decisions on what I’m wearing.”

  He slid his hand up, saw her chest hitch. “But I have some say in the clothes you take off.” His hand danced under the hem of the T-shirt, moving toward the juncture of her thighs. “Your skin is so soft, Haven.”

  Then he found out that she definitely wasn’t wearing panties.

  “My angel’s got a naughty streak.” He slid a finger inside her warmth.

  She moaned, her head dropping forward. She pressed her hands to his chest and he loved the bite of her nails on his skin.

  Rhys thrust two fingers inside her, his thumb strumming across her clit. Her hips moved restlessly, and she cried out.

  “Get there, baby,” he murmured.

  She panted, her hips rocking on his hand. “Rhys.”

  “Come.”

  “Oh, God.” She ground down.

  He pinched her clit and she came. He felt a rush of wet on his fingers and her tight pussy squeezing. Her husky cries were the sweetest music. She collapsed onto his chest.

  Rhys reached out to the bedside table and grabbed a condom. He tugged Haven back up to straddle him. With a noise, she shifted her thighs on either side of him, her heavy gaze finding his swollen cock standing up between them.

  He was so damn hard for her.

  “Put it on.” He handed her the foil packet.

  She fumbled and opened it. Then she took her sweet time rolling the latex over him.

  Rhys felt like a wild beast. He needed her. He needed her skin against his. Needed her scent in his senses. Needed her warmth.

  He reached up and yanked the shirt off her. Then he fisted his cock and Haven’s eyes glazed with need. She lifted her hips.

  His gut was in knots, blood hammering through his veins.

  “Take what you need, baby. What we both need.”

  She rocked against him, rubbing against his cock. He hissed out a breath.

  “Haven, do it.” He clamped his hands on her hips.

  She lowered down, and the head of his cock slipped inside her. They both groaned, their gazes meeting.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Work me inside you, angel.”

  She lifted up, then drove down. She cried out.

  Rhys gritted his teeth. He was lodged deep inside her—every hard inch. Desire hammered inside him, then she made an incoherent sound and pressed her hands to his chest.

  She started to ride him, her hips rolling.

  Fuck. Her tight pussy gripped him hard. With every thrust, she let out a harsh breath.

  “Faster, Haven,” he growled.

  She picked up the pace. Her pretty breasts bounced with her moves. He reached up and tugged her hair free.

  It tumbled around her shoulders. She was the most beautiful thing he’d
seen. Haven riding his cock, taking her pleasure.

  “Rhys?”

  “Baby?”

  “Please…rub my clit.”

  His gut clenched. His sexy girl asking for what she wanted. “You want me rubbing your clit while you ride my cock?”

  “Yes.”

  He found the sweet nub, and with one roll, her pussy clenched. She made a strangled cry and her back arched.

  Fucking beautiful.

  Her orgasm triggered his. Rhys yanked her down, his cock buried deep in her. His vision grayed—narrowing to only her and the climax tearing through him.

  With a roar, his release shook his entire body.

  She collapsed on him, and he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her close against his chest.

  He turned his face into her hair and breathed her in. He listened as her breathing slowed, and let his hand trail up her back.

  He wanted more. Turning his head, he found her neck. He kissed her, tasting her skin and the faint trace of salt. He saw the tiny bruise he’d left the first time they’d fucked and he smiled.

  His mark. He gently kissed it and she made a happy, contented sound.

  Then he smacked her ass. “You mentioned breakfast.”

  This time, she made an annoyed sound.

  “Come on, McKinney. I need sustenance.”

  “Because you fucked me most of the night. I’m surprised we didn’t both lose ten pounds.”

  He reached over and found the shirt he pulled off her. He urged her up, he pulled it back over her head.

  She gave him a small smile, and Rhys stilled. Emotion moved through him.

  In that moment, sitting on his rumpled bed with an equally rumpled Haven, he realized that he’d kill for her. Die for her.

  She tilted her head. “Rhys?”

  “Come on, angel. I need bacon.”

  * * *

  Haven finished scrambling the eggs. She eyed Rhys at the coffee machine, and added way more bacon to the frypan.

  She’d gathered her hair back up on her head, and this time, she’d pulled some panties on under his T-shirt.

  Rhys could not be trusted.

  He was wearing a pair of loose sweatpants and had no shirt on. All those muscles and ink were a huge distraction.

  Her belly tightened. She’d had sex—so much delicious sex—with the man. There should be no belly tightening.