My field of expertise might be missing persons rather than things that went bump in the night, but it still involved late nights and long shifts. Monsters mostly preferred the cover of darkness, it seemed.
But the second worst thing about working for the aforementioned agency was having a boss who had no respect for the “eight hours between shifts” rule, made law years ago.
So when Frank’s phone call woke me up after I’d barely been asleep for three hours, I was neither happy nor surprised.
“Rioli?” he said, his voice more gravelly than usual. Meaning he’d either been up all night or he’d hit the smokes again. “Need you in here ASAP.”
“Frank, I only just got home from the Harbor case—”
“This one’s important, Grace. Be here by seven.”
I glared blearily at the clock. He’d given me a whole thirty minutes. How generous of him. I hung up, dragged myself out of bed, and threw on some clothes. Luckily for us both, the traffic at that hour of a Sunday morning was practically nonexistent, and I found a parking spot right out in front of the agency’s multistory building.
It turns out I wasn’t the only investigator Frank had called in early. And when I heard the rapid tattoo of footsteps coming up behind me, I barely restrained a groan. There was only one man in this building who could make the mere act of walking sound so sexy, and I really wasn’t in the mood to cope with his banter this morning.
“Hey, Ravioli, wait up.”
“Ravioli is a food,” I said tartly, not breaking stride as I headed for the elevator. “And my name is Rioli. I’d appreciate it if you’d actually remember that.”
“Are you always this touchy in the mornings?” he asked, his voice so warm, so rich, that shivers of delight ran down my spine.
But then, I’d been supersensitive to this man’s presence from the moment he’d walked elegantly—and oh-so sexily—into the Preternatural Investigations offices eighteen months ago. Luckily for me, I was not alone in my admiration, and Ethan had wasted no time dipping into the pool, so to speak. The man was a werewolf who knew how to work both his aura and his lean, powerful body. He was sex on a stick, as one of my cubicle mates had noted. Right before she’d taken him home and enjoyed his stick.
Thankfully, I’d been spared the grittier details of their activities the following morning. I had imagination enough when it came to Ethan.
Which wasn’t to say I’d never been tempted to do more than imagine, but I often worked with the man on missing persons investigations. Unless you were very lucky, mixing business and pleasure always got messy.
Not that I’d actually mind a little of Ethan’s mess every now and again.
I blew out a breath and punched the elevator button. Control. I needed control. Ethan would smell the merest hint of arousal, and that would only stir his interest more. And I needed that like I needed a hole in the head. Especially when it had been so damn long since I’d had anything decent in the way of sex.
Weres of any breed might be free and easy when it came to sex, but I was a wolf shifter, and my parents were depressingly old-fashioned when it came to the whole mating act. Though I was pretty sure I could shake their overly strict sensibilities if the right man and moment came along. Ethan certainly wasn’t that man, hence the cobwebs and me feeling hornier than a bitch in heat whenever he got within hormonal radar distance.
I punched the button again. As usual, the damn elevator was taking its freaking time getting here.
“Or is it just me that brings out the worst in you?” he continued, from right behind me.
I took a breath that was filled with the warm, spicy scent of him, then slowly turned to meet the vivid blue of his gaze. A gaze that was too bright, and saw too much. A gaze that never gave much away, no matter what the situation.
But Ethan Garrison wasn’t just sex on a stick, he was ex-military, and a dangerous man despite his to-die-for smile. He was dressed in black this morning, his roughly rolled up shirtsleeves emphasizing the strength of his shoulders and upper arms, while his close-fitting jeans paid homage to the long, lean length of his legs. Even his boots and baseball cap were black. With his golden hair and skin, it was a potent combination.
“Going for the bad boy look today, are we?” I said, more to break the tension that always seemed to build between us than from any real need to talk to the man.
“Heard you liked a bit of bad. Thought it worth a shot.” His grin was pure cheek, and crinkles of amusement touched the corners of his bright, watchful eyes.
A combination that had my hormones doing happy little cartwheels.
“The bad boy is getting no closer to me than the other incarnations you’ve dreamt up,” I said, and wished my words would come out less breathy. “You and I work together. That’s enough.”
One dark eyebrow rose as he stepped a little closer. “Care to take a bet on that, Ravioli?”
The sheer heat of him slid across my senses like a caress. A caress I so wanted. My heart was doing a triple-time dance and desire not only swirled through me, but around me. His nose flared and a lusty spark ignited deep in his eyes. Damn, I was in trouble now.
Still, I raised my chin. Defiant to the end, that was me. “I don’t bet.” Especially when I was likely to lose.
“Shame that. I enjoy a challenge.”
“Then I challenge you to take a flying leap out of a twentieth-floor window and make like a bird.”
He smiled, and my breath caught somewhere in my throat and refused to budge. Smiles like that should be declared lethal weapons.
“You’d miss me if I did.”
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a note of dryness into my voice. “Like I’d miss a proverbial pain in the butt.”
His gaze slid downwards. “And a very nice butt it is, too.”
The chime of the elevator arriving saved me from answering. I gave a silent sigh of relief—then wondered why as the doors opened, revealing the empty interior. Confined elevator spaces and Ethan were not a wise combination right now.
“Are you going to stand there gawking all day?” he asked, voice dry and a knowing smile touching his lips.
It was a thought. Not a practical one but a thought all the same.
I stepped inside and punched the tenth-floor button. “What floor you going to?”
“Tenth, same as you.”
He stopped beside me, so close he made me burn.
Damn, damn, damn.
I stepped back, trying to get some space between us, trying to cool my overheated body. “So Frank has called you in?”
“Yes. Something urgent has come up.”
Oh, I had no doubt about that, I thought, my gaze detouring briefly down his long, lean length. Man, what I wouldn’t give to be able…I wrenched my mind away from that particular direction and tried to think of boring things in an effort to calm my pulse.
Only nothing boring would come to mind.
The doors slid closed and the elevator began to rise at what seemed like a snail’s pace. Ethan took a step towards me. I couldn’t help taking another one back—though there weren’t many places I could go in such a confined space. I pressed my back against the cool steel wall and watched him almost breathlessly. Anticipating his touch, even though common sense suggested he was only teasing. After all, there wasn’t much he could do in an elevator in the space of ten floors.
Was there?
He moved closer. My breath stuttered to a brief stop. Like a rabbit caught in a spotlight, I watched as he bracketed his hands on either side of my head. Then he leaned forward, sending my senses into a spiral of delight. My nipples hardened, as if reaching out to brush his body. Which they couldn’t, because he wasn’t that close.