“Am I under arrest?” Felicia seemed to have snapped fully awake at his statement.
“No, ma’am.” Troy left Laura’s side finally and moved in beside his partner. “Just for questioning. If you resist, however, we can charge you with impeding an ongoing murder investigation.”
“Oh.” Felicia shuffled her bare feet, frowning. “All right. Let me put on some clothes. You want to come in while I do that?”
“We’ll wait in the hall, ma’am.” Hopkins stood guard outside the door, and Felicia mumbled something under her breath before closing it.
Troy moved in closer to Laura again. “Answer me.”
“What?”
“What the hell are you doing here? This place is dangerous right now. You should go.”
“Why? You think Felicia did it?”
The muscles around his tight jaw tensed and he crossed his arms. “Nope. No more leaks from me today. You reached your quota.”
“I thought we were friends, Troy.”
“I thought you were going to be more careful, Laura.”
Flustered at being caught at her own game, she looked away. “I am careful. Besides, Felicia Gomez is hardly a threat. I could take her blindfolded with one hand tied behind my back.”
Troy’s blue gaze narrowed. “Who says I’m talking about Felicia Gomez?”
Touché.
Before she could respond, the apartment door opened and Felicia stepped out, dressed now in a pair of faded jeans and an old UNLV sweatshirt. Laura could feel the weight of Troy’s stare on her even though she ignored him. As Felicia passed by her, their eyes met, and Laura would’ve sworn she saw a flicker of guilt cross the other woman’s face.
Good. As they all rode down to the lobby together, she couldn’t help feeling a bit vindicated. Felicia seemed like the logical choice for murderer. All the pieces fit. Or at least made sense. Either way, it was one less reason to blame Mike for the killings, and that made Laura happy.
Perhaps she hadn’t fallen for a diabolical psycho killer after all.
Eleven
Laura wandered the streets of Vegas for awhile after leaving the Regency. She could have gone home and tweaked the article she’d started on the second murder victim, added in the new details about Felicia and the police taking her down to the station. Of course, nothing was concrete yet, but everything seemed to point to her now being responsible.
Except she didn’t head home.
Instead, she drifted northward, past the 1020 Café and the Mob Museum and the 18b Galleries, all the way to the Turnberry. Damn. She’d not intended to go see Mike, but somehow that’s where she ended up.
The same bulky guard that had been stationed at the gate that first day was there again. He gave Laura a little wave as she passed, the fan she’d bought him whirring on the small desk in front of him. This time, though, there was no need for bribery. She’d never gotten around to returning the keycard the concierge had given her that first day, so all she had to do was flash it, and he let her pass without question.
Once inside the lobby, she walked to the elevators, then hesitated. What was she doing here? Mike wasn’t expecting her, and she needed to have at least the hint of a credible reason for her unexpected arrival. Something more than not being able to think of anything but him for the past week or the fact she’d walked in a constant haze of lust since their last kiss. She supposed she could use the documentary angle again, but she didn’t have the camera with her this time. Maybe her phone might make a plausible substitute, given the circumstances.
Satisfied with her story, she pressed the buzzer.
No answer.
Well, crap.
Her shoulders hunched, and disappointment pinched her heart. All because a guy who had no idea she was coming over to begin with wasn’t home. Man, she had it bad. This was a stupid idea, anyway. Embarrassingly stupid to be chasing after a guy who she knew nothing about. Except his mind-blowing kisses.
It was good he wasn't home. To be sure, she pressed the button once more, resolved that if there was no answer this time, she was so out of there.
“Yes?” Mike’s gruff voice sent a flurry of involuntary shivers down her spine.
She resisted her urge to fidget and instead gave a tiny wave and smile into the camera. “Hey, it’s your favorite pest of a filmmaker again. I wondered if you might have a minute for a few final questions.”
Silence.
Finally, he sighed. “Okay, but I can only give you twenty minutes.”
“Great.” She hadn’t realized how tightly her hands were clenched until her fingers went numb from lack of blood supply. Laura waited for the doors to ding open then stepped into the elevator. As she rode skyward, she closed her eyes and took several breaths. She could do this. She could get through twenty minutes with Mike McQuade and keep her hands to herself and be a good girl and not jump his bones.
She could. She should. She would.
So what if the guy was now most certainly innocent and most certainly interested and available. They were both adults. Adults didn’t tackle other adults to the floor and kiss them senseless.
The car jostled to a halt, and the doors opened to reveal Mike, looking hotter than any man had a right to in his body-hugging faded jeans and tight black T-shirt.
Her pulse thudded loud in her ears, and she licked her lips.
Then again, maybe getting it on like Donkey Kong was exactly what adults did.
“Uh, we can talk in the living room again,” he said, turning away. But not before she’d seen the way his gaze narrowed on her mouth or how his dilated pupils made his eyes darker and sexier than usual. She did her best not to stare at his perfectly formed ass as he led her into the other room. “You said you had more questions for me?”
“What?” She forced her attention away from his delectable bod and met his gaze. “Oh, um, yeah. More questions.”
“No camera today?”
“No.” She took a seat on the sofa and pulled out her phone. “I walked here from my place and didn’t want to lug all that equipment around. I’ll just take some footage on my phone, if that’s okay, then transfer it over in edits.”
“Right. Whatever. Sure.” He sat down beside her this time instead of across from her, and the soft skin of his bicep brushed against her shoulder. Hot electricity zinged through her nervous system, causing a swarm of excited butterflies to take flight inside her. His knee bumped hers, and he mumbled an apology, but he didn’t pull away. “So, what else could you possibly have to ask me, Laura?”
She gripped her phone tighter in one hand and flashed him a hesitant smile. “They just took Felicia in for questioning on the second murder.”
“Really?” He rested his arm on the back of the sofa behind her, and she did her best not to snuggle into his side. Funny, but she’d expected more of a reaction from him over the news. Relief, maybe, or at the very least agreement with law enforcement’s decision to take her into custody for questioning. The gal had stalked him, after all. He had the restraining order to prove it. The fact he seemed to have little to no reaction at all bothered her a little, but she reasoned it away. Mike was a private guy. He didn’t let his emotions show. For all she knew, he could have a major buzz over the news.
She was certainly buzzing. For entirely different reasons, of course.
Mike shook his head, his firm lips quirking into a half smile. “Huh. Wow. Felecia’s always been nuts, but I never thought she’d commit murder.”
Laura relaxed back into the overstuffed cushions, enjoying the nearness and heat of him, the sense of intimacy their close proximity created. “Well, you must’ve had some concerns since you took out a restraining order on her, right? Judges don’t issue those without proof of a threat.”
“Yeah. I suppose.” He ran his free hand through his already messy hair, and she inched just a bit closer to him, drawn by some invisible cord she couldn’t explain. Pressure built low in her belly, and moisture gathered between her legs. She hadn’t wan
ted anyone this badly in so long. Too long.
If he noticed how turned on she was, Mike didn’t show it. Just kept rambling on about Felicia. “I mean, she used to hang around my offices, acting all crazy and throwing herself at my programmers.”
She wanted to ask if Felecia had thrown herself at him too but didn’t.
Instead, she shrugged, which caused his fingers behind her back to brush against her shoulder. He maintained the contact, rubbing small, absent circles over her sensitive skin. She glanced over at him, but he continued to stare at the toes of his black boots, frowning, seemingly lost in thought. Feminine resolve bubbled within her. She wanted him to be as aware of her as she was of him. Emboldened, she reached out and laid her hand on his thigh, near his knee, lowering her voice a smidge so he had to lean closer to hear. “Crazed fans will do anything to get close to their obsession. I’ve seen it happen.”
“Really?” He looked at her then, his grin slow and sexy and seductive as hell. “Make a lot of documentaries about obsessed people, huh?”
Laura swallowed hard, unable to keep from staring at his mouth as his hand moved from her shoulder to trace lightly up and down her back. His muscles beneath her palm bunched, and he closed a bit more space between them, watching her with his heated brown gaze. A girl could drown in that warm chocolate depth and die a happy woman. Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected by their nearness as she’d thought. She tossed her phone aside, all pretense of an interview gone. “I meet all kinds of interesting people in my work.”
“I bet you do.” His voice sounded as full of need as she felt.
She tipped her face up to his, and he captured her lips once more. Instant desire—white hot and undeniable—flared once more. Laura gasped at the sheer pleasure of him pressed so tight against her, and he took advantage, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth to slide against hers, tasting her, devouring her. Her hands slid up his thigh, brushing against his erect cock before gripping the front of his shirt. She wanted him close, closer, so damned close she couldn’t tell where he started and she stopped. At her touch, Mike growled low in his throat and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning her body slightly to slide her down onto the seat.
A tiny niggle of warning dinged in the back of her mind. They should take it slow, get to know each other better, use caution. Then he stretched out beside her, his body half atop hers, one of his legs sliding between hers and pressing exactly where she needed him most.
Screw caution.
Laura tangled her fingers into the thick, soft curls at the nape of this neck and arched against him, craving more intimate contact.
“You feel amazing,” he murmured into the hair near her temple before nipping her earlobe between his teeth. He slipped his hand beneath the hem of her shirt and stroked her quivering stomach. “So soft and hot and gorgeous.”
“So do you.” Laura traced the backs of her fingers over his cheek, down his neck, inside his collar, enjoying his tiny shudder. “Like that?”
“God, yes.” He nuzzled her neck as he flicked open the buttons down the front of her shirt, slowly, confidently, his sexual skill evident. Who’d have thought a man who sat behind a computer all day could be such a storm-force of passion in bed? That’d teach her to judge a book by its cover. She smiled and wriggled closer to him. He leaned back and grinned down at her. “What?”
“Nothing.” She ran her nails over his scalp, and he moaned, his cheeks flushing.
“Do that again.”
“Do what?” She blinked up at him, coy. “This?”
She massaged his scalp again, and his whole body vibrated against her. He lowered his head and kissed her deeply.
“You keep that up and I’ll tell you anything you want to know, give you anything you want.” He ground his hips into hers for emphasis. “Anything.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.”
She pulled him down for another open-mouthed kiss, cool air drifting over her torso as he pushed her shirt to the sides and cupped her breasts through her bra. His thumbs rubbed and flicked their sensitive peaks through the lace, driving the passion coiling inside her to a whole new level. She wanted them naked and together, now. Skin on skin, soul on soul. Laura reached for the bottom of his shirt and hoisted it high on his chest, dropping a kiss on his taut abs and muscled pecs before hiking her chin at him. “Off. Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He’d just tugged the garment over his head and tossed it aside when an annoying buzz started near her head. At first she ignored it, lost in the feel of Mike’s hot flesh for the first time—tasting him, stroking him, reveling in the spicy smell of his cologne and clean, aroused male. So good. So damned good she never wanted to leave this space, this man, this moment.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
Mike chuckled and collapsed beside her, a brow raised. “Want to get that?”
“No.” She sighed and reached above her head for her stupid phone. Onscreen flashed an urgent reminder:
ROCKFORD SECURITY
STAKEHOLDER MEETING
15 MINUTES
“Shit.” She rolled up into a sitting position as Mike did the same. She missed his heat and touch immediately but had no choice. Laura hastily redid the buttons on her shirt and glanced Mike’s way. “Sorry. Got to go. Work meeting.”
“Right.” He grabbed his T-shirt off the floor and pulled it back on. “No problem.”
With a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair. Considering what they’d just done, now seemed as good a time as any for a dose of truth. Wasn’t like she needed to keep her cover now anyway. “I’m, uh, not really a documentary filmmaker. I’m actually a reporter for the Chronicle.”
“Yeah, I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Thanks for telling me, though.”
Confused, she picked up her messenger bag then pushed to her feet. “What do you mean you know?”
“You don’t think a man in my position would let just anyone up here for an interview, do you?” He stepped closer and kissed the tip of her nose before walking back out to the foyer. “I knew who you were before we did our first interview.”
“Really?” Her passionate haze diminished slightly. “And you just let me go on pretending?”
“Sure.” He winked and pressed the elevator button. “After all, you were so cute setting up your camera and all.”
“Cute?” Laura wrinkled her nose. “I am not cute.”
“How about beautiful, then? Gorgeous? Irresistible?” He punctuated each word with a kiss as she boarded the elevator once more.
“Better.” She leaned out for one more kiss then slung her bag over her body and crossed her arms. “Talk to you later.”
“Oh, yeah.” He grinned, an arm resting on each side of the elevator doors, the position highlighting his firm, muscled physique and making her blood pump hot and thick. As the doors slid closed, he blew her one last kiss. “Bank on it, baby.”
The whole ride down to the lobby and the walk back to her apartment passed by in a blur. She’d just made out with Mike McQuade. Laura climbed into the Impala and took stock of her appearance in the rearview mirror.
Pink cheeks, swollen lips, glittering eyes. Yep, she looked like a woman who’d just been thoroughly kissed and thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
She started the car then pulled out of her spot and headed toward the Rockford Security offices. She needed to get rid of that look and quick. If her family sensed even the slightest hint of romance, they’d pounce on her like mice on gouda. So at the next red light, she smoothed her mussed hair back into a slick ponytail, made sure all her buttons were done up properly, and dabbed on a fresh coat of lip gloss.
There wasn’t much she could do about the flushed cheeks or sparkling eyes, but at least she looked more sedate and normal than before. Blake and Liv were the two she needed to watch out for. With luck, she could just avoid them altogether. She was a bit late arriving, so she’d just stand near the back and escape as soon as the meeting was done.
>
Easy.
As she pulled into the lot of Rockford Security and climbed out of the Impala, she took a deep breath. Except she’d forgotten one important thing. Where her family was concerned, nothing was ever easy.
* * *
Mike stood at the elevator for a long while after Laura left, lips tingling and pulse pounding. That had been one hell of a hot interlude, no matter how foolish said interlude might’ve been.
In truth, the last person he should be involved with was Laura Rockford. She’d lied her way into his life and his home, and that alone should have exterminated his trust. Add in the fact she made him feel things he’d thought well out of range for a man like him, and that should have been the final kicker. But try as he might, he couldn’t get her out of his system.
He’d thought the first kiss would do it. Then the second. Now this.
Shit. Just shit.
He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. What a fucking mess.
Slowly, he walked back into the living room and slumped down onto the sofa, the same spot where moments before he’d held Laura in his arms, stroked her silky skin, tasted the sweet, spicy desire of her mouth. Hell, if he put his hand on her cushion, he still felt her heat there. He let his head fall back into the cushions, and the fragrance of her floral perfume wafted around him.
At least she’d finally told him the truth of who she was, what she was.
That counted for something, right?
His brain was so scrambled that he didn’t know which end was up anymore.
Mike glanced over at his own phone, plugged into its charger on the nearby end table, and spotted an alert on the small screen. He grabbed it and squinted at the message from Ted.
GOT A NEW PROTOTYPE.
THINK YOU'LL DIG IT.
Shaking his head, he clicked off the device and tossed it back onto the table. Ted seemed to have really gotten his shit together lately.
Fatal Games (The Rockford Security Series Book 2) Page 10