“No.” She said it too quickly.
I’d been trained in interrogation techniques. Interviewing hostiles. All with someone a hell of a lot more difficult. And not in ass-cupping sleep shorts.
Megan was lying to me.
And for some reason, she kept pointing that damn gun at my head.
I arched a brow. “Are you daring me to disarm you, baby doll? Because I had a different kind of tussling in mind tonight, but I am totally down with whatever gets you hot.”
Her eyes narrowed, but I saw a gleam of interest in them. She hit the release button to drop the magazine cartridge from the Glock then pulled back the slide to spit the live round out onto the floor. She loosened her shoulders. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”
Fuck. As much as I loved throwing my weight around in bed with Megan, in this scenario, I was loath to manhandle her. This was a losing proposition.
As in, I’d better let her win because me winning would definitely be the wrong move.
How did I know this? The gun to the head was a pretty solid giveaway.
I eyed her for a solid ten seconds before my hand shot out to knock her wrist up. She landed an impressive karate-style kick in the center of my chest that knocked me back and out of range.
This was how she wanted to play?
“You’re toying with me,” she accused.
“Nah.” I held my hand out for the weapon, and this time she handed it over. When she did, I caught her wrist and spun her around until her back hit my front, and I could restrain her from behind. Our arms were banded about her torso, and my hard dick was nestled against her perfect ass. “I just wait for the right opportunities,” I murmured against her ear.
“Mmm.” Her body had gone soft and supple against mine. After six nights, she knew I’d give her everything she needed and more.
“Who broke into your house?” I kept my voice low and seductive like we were still talking about sex.
Wrong move.
She stiffened, further proving she’d lied. “You did,” she snapped. “And I’m sick of it. Just ring the damn bell.”
I stroked my thumb across the soft skin of her belly. “Give me a damn key.”
“Not happening, Hayes.” There she went using my call sign again.
I slid my hand up inside her shirt to cup one of her bare breasts, groaning at the feel of that ripe, firm curve in my palm. I dragged my lips along the column of her neck. “Can we take heavy artillery off the table?”
I felt her belly flex in a chuckle and sank my teeth into her neck. She ground that sexy ass of hers back against my lap, making me even harder.
I cupped between her legs and confirmed she wasn’t wearing panties under the soft cotton shorts. My fingers found that damp flesh and caressed.
Megan let out a soft sigh.
“That’s right, baby doll. I’m going to make you feel good,” I promised, kissing along her neck as I gently worked her folds.
Fine. She didn’t want to tell me who broke into her house? I’d figure it the fuck out. I worked for a world-class private security firm and had the persistence of a bulldog. She wasn’t the only one who could play detective.
Or, I’d get it out of her eventually. Megan Hager was skittish, that much was sure. But I was in it for the long game. I’d win her over eventually. Earn her trust. Pry her secrets out of her.
Someday, Megan would come to me with her problems, and I would burn the world down to solve them.
I looked forward to that day. In the meantime, I slipped two fingers inside her and made her moan.
CHAPTER
TEN
MEGAN
“Did you finish with the paperwork for the revised parade route?” Mary asked.
I looked up from my work and glanced at Dan. We swiveled in unison toward the office manager who was at her desk by the station’s lobby. Fortunately, it was a quiet Saturday, and we hadn’t left the station for more than assisting the volunteer fire department with motor vehicle accident training. They’d used a totaled car to practice the jaws of life and other tools that were used on actual scenes. Dan and I led the incident command for it and flagged in a helicopter in a nearby field.
Ford Ledger had purchased–yup, actually bought–a helicopter for the security company he operated. I wasn’t exactly sure what he needed a chopper for in rural Montana, but he’d volunteered it, along with the services of the pilot, to the community for emergencies.
Quincy had been quick to introduce herself and work closely with the local paramedics to make a plan if someone needed a flight to the regional hospital in Missoula.
Since then, Dan and I had been planning the route for the annual Labor Day parade. With a bridge under construction, the route had to be shifted this year.