Brooks jerked his head in agreement, turned toward the door.
Colin caught his arm in a steely grip. He figured Emily should be proud of him; he’d held onto his cool a good fifteen minutes. "Not so fast, partner." He applied just enough pressure to grind bones.
"What the he-"
"Don’t ever fucking come to my house and rip into my woman that way again, you understand me?" He didn’t let up on the pressure, not for one minute.
Brooks tried to jerk away. Colin just tightened his grip. "I asked if you understood." He’d hate to break the guy’s arm, but he had a point to make.
Don’t mess with Emily.
"I’m doing my job. Our job." Moisture appeared above Brooks’s upper lip. "I have to check her out."
Yeah, but it was more than that. He’d seen Brooks check out hundreds of suspects before, and he’d never had the tight rage in his voice that he’d had when he confronted Emily. Understanding dawned. "You don’t like her, do you?"
"I don’t trust her."
Colin eased his grip. He’d deliberately reached for his partner’s left arm. No sense putting his shooting hand out of commission. "You don’t have to trust her."
"You shouldn’t either. There’s something about her…it’s just…off." When Colin’s hold lightened, Brooks managed to jerk his arm free. "Don’t let the fact that she’s a good piece of ass screw up your head, Gyth. She’s got secrets, and those secrets could be deadly."
He wrenched open the door, stalked into the bright morning light.
Colin watched him leave, watched as he revved his small sports car and spun out of the drive.
Brooks was getting drawn deeper and deeper into the Butcher case, and the guy was a good detective.
There was a chance he could find out the truth.
How would he handle it?
The guy seemed certain that Emily was a threat. How would he feel if he learned the true danger came from his own partner?
You fucking freak! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!
He rolled his right shoulder. Been there, done that. He hoped there wouldn’t be a repeat performance this time around.
He shut the front door, heard the faint spray of water from the shower.
His head tilted at the sound, and an image of Emily, her pale body glistening with water, filled his mind.
Hmmm. He’d told Brooks he’d meet him in an hour.
More than enough time…
The warm water slid over her skin. Ah, God, it felt good. Emily tilted her head beneath the spray, letting the water soak her hair. Steam rose around her, light, foggy tendrils that drifted in the air. She turned back around-
And saw the outline of a man’s body through the distorted glass of the shower door.
Her heart beat faster, faster-
Colin pulled open the door. He was naked. And aroused.
Emily swallowed. Forced her gaze to lift. "I-is your partner gone?"
"Umm." His own gaze swept down her body, lingering on her breasts, the dark hair at the juncture of her thighs.
He stepped into the shower, closed the door with a soft click behind him.
"H-he’s wrong, you know. I didn’t have anything to do with Darla’s murder."
He pressed his fingertip against her lips. "I know."
The water poured over them in a warm, steady stream.
Emily opened her mouth. Her tongue snaked out, licked the tip of his finger.
His pupils flared in hungry response.
She drew his finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him and sucking softly.
"Don’t tease me," he growled.
She released his finger. Heady power filled her. It was the kind of sensual power she’d never felt-until Colin. He made her feel beautiful, sexual.
Wanted.
She wasn’t a freak with him. She didn’t have to choose her words for fear he’d discover her secret. She didn’t have to pretend with him. She could just…be.
Her fingers trailed over his chest. Found his nipples. Rubbed. "Who said I was teasing?" His cock pressed against her belly, fully aroused, easily thicker than her wrist.
She bent her head, let the water rush down her back, and took his nipple into her mouth.
His fingers tangled in her hair, held her closer. She heard him suck in a sharp breath.
Keeping her mouth on him, her fingers slipped down to his groin. Found the hard length of his arousal. Wrapped around him, squeezed.
Oh God, but she couldn’t wait to feel that cock in her, driving deep, filling every inch of her sex.
Colin pulled lightly on her hair, forcing her head to lift. His mouth locked onto hers, his tongue sweeping inside, claiming her.
He spun around, pinned her against the smooth tile. His fingers dipped into the dark curls at her sex. Parted her folds and plunged inside.
Oh yes! Her hips ground against his hand. Her mouth jerked away from his and she hoarsely demanded, "Colin, more!" He knew just how to touch her. Knew where to press, where to stroke, where to-
He pushed three fingers inside of her. Emily squeezed her eyes shut. Her sex trembled around him.
"You’re so damn sexy," he growled, licking his way down her neck. "Every time I see you, I want to take you."
Her hips twisted against him, jerked. He was holding his fingers still now. The pressure was maddening. She needed him to move, to-
He pulled his hand away and Emily moaned in protest.
Colin laughed, but the sound was strained. "It’s all right, baby, I’ll give you what you need."
His hands locked on her waist. Lifted her. "Wrap your legs around me."
Damn, but she’d forgotten just how strong he was. Shifter strength.
Her legs curled around his hips. The head of his cock nudged her entrance.
Then he drove deep inside, lodging his cock balls deep in her sheath.
Her sex clamped down on him, and she squeezed him, loving the feel of his flesh inside her.
He was moving then. Pulling back. Thrusting deep. Again and again.
Her hands rose to his shoulders, gripped the slick flesh.
His mouth captured her breast and his tongue swirled over her nipple.
His hips slammed into her. Withdrew, plunged.
And his mouth, oh, his mouth-
His fingers edged between their bodies. He found her clit, pressed with his thumb.
She came, her sex contracting as a powerful orgasm shot through her.
Colin lifted his head, watched her. "Damn, I love it when you come." Another thrust. "You. Feel. So. Fucking. Good." And then he was shuddering against her, his own climax claiming him.
When the waves of pleasure finally stopped, Emily didn’t move. Her back felt bruised, sore from contact with the tile, but she didn’t really care.
Her fingers stroked the back of Colin’s neck.
He kissed her shoulder and held her.
Terrace Lane was one of those quiet, unassuming little streets that looked like it belonged on a greeting card. Perfectly groomed lawns. Large, brick houses. Neat little sidewalks. Cute kids playing in the yards.
The neighborhood made him tense. He didn’t belong there. Wasn’t part of that picture-perfect world.
And neither was the doc.
How had she felt, he wondered, growing up there? She’d been seeing demons and vampires, and the other kids had been playing basketball and hopscotch.
She’d never fit in. And neither had he.
"All right. Donna Tillman, the neighbor on the right"-Brooks lifted his notebook and pointed to a house with a large bay window-"said she saw Dr. Drake arrive a little after seven-thirty last night."
Colin grunted. It was the same story he’d gotten from Tom Henry, the neighbor on the left. "She sure about the time?"
"Yeah, said she was taking out her garbage when she saw her." Brooks turned his attention to 2801 Terrace Lane. "Mrs. Tillman thought it was real odd, too, because apparently, Dr. Drake never comes to visit, and when she did get here, she stayed in the car for about fifteen minutes before she went inside."