Page 41 of Dirty Love

I roll onto my back and his hand slides over my hip and onto my belly. He spreads his fingers wide, finding my scar.

Neither of us say anything for a long while, but I hold still, and he holds me, and that’s something in itself.

When I eventually turn toward him, his hand slips between my legs. We kiss, slow and languid, and in the distance, past the murky goodness of being turned on, I have a vague thought that I might write a song about this. About making love, dirty kisses and soft touches, and the way they crack you open.

We’re way past the point of pretending this isn’t something.

But what can survive the hellfire that is my life?

I pull my lips together, so our next kiss is firm and final. An end to dirty sexy times, because we need to talk.

So not my strong suit. I take a deep breath. “So this thing between us.”

He brushes hair off my cheek. “Yes.”

“You know what I’m going to say.”

“I honestly have no idea. Is this about Grant?”

I make a face. “I was hoping to avoid that conversation.”

“You don’t need to.” He grips my chin, gentle but firm, and brings his face right to mine. “Whatever it is, I’m going to deal with it.”

Unwanted memories roll over me. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is for me. I see you. I like what I see. Every last inch of you. Secrets and pain. And I think you see me too.” He frowns. “Or maybe you don’t.”

I search his face. “What do you mean?”

He traces along my jaw and down my neck. “I hacked into your phone.”

“I know.” And the crazy computer set up is intense, too. “And you’re investigating Gerome Lively. I imagine you break the rules in that pursuit.”

“I break the rules for a lot of reasons.”

“What else?”

“To get things. Do things. See things.”

“You’re a…thief? Conman? Hacker?”

“Sure. Yes. Definitely.”

“What else?”

“I used to work for the government.”

“And not as a park ranger, I’m guessing.”

“Never underestimate a park ranger.” He rubs his thumb up and down at the base of my neck.

My pulse jumps against his touch. “Okay, so…a spy?”

“You could say that.”

“You’re making this whole secret-sharing thing difficult.”

“It’s like washing long, beautiful red hair. I’ve never done it before.”

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