Absolute Pleasure. Jamie Denton
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pace. He imagined her above him, the enticing sway of her breasts as she rode him. Slow. Easy, taking him deep inside her tight, hot sheath until the pressure built and her body demanded more. Harder. Faster, driving toward fulfillment with each thrust of their bodies until they came together in an explosion of heat.
She guided his hand from her breast, over her flat stomach and lower, sighing into his mouth when he cupped her sex. She tested his control when she rocked against his hand.
A loud rap on the door sent them scurrying in opposite directions. Duncan dragged his hand through his hair and watched Sunny walk unsteadily to the far side of his office. Her shoulders rose and fell as she drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. When she slipped a bouncy curl behind her ears her hand trembled.
He took comfort in the fact she was obviously as rattled as he by the unexpected passion of that kiss. The past few months he’d been too swamped with work to pay much attention to anything not related to business. The explosion of heat between them reminded him that he hadn’t gotten laid in weeks, nothing more.
Another loud knock saved him from having to think too much on the subject. He went to the door and opened it to find Lucy Barstow, the agency’s office manager, giving him one of her cast-iron glares over the rim of her bifocals.
He blocked the door, but that didn’t stop her from craning her neck to get a better look. “Yeah?” Somehow he managed to maintain a civil tone. “What is it?”
“We have a situation.” Lucy handed him a neon-yellow sticky note. “Abe from Able Pawn just called. He acquired a sizeable diamond engagement ring last week that showed up on the regional hot sheet that went out today. He’s giving you twenty minutes to see if it’s one of ours before he has to call it in to the Baltimore P.D.”
Despite the interruption, a slow smile spread across his face. Hot merchandise often showed up in pawn shops. By law, the owners were supposed to notify the cops when they inadvertently received stolen goods, which the cops would then confiscate. Since the brokers would be out the cash they’d paid for the pawn, as a result, they were only too happy to line their pockets with the finder’s fee Duncan paid them if the property turned out to be an item he’d been hired to recover.
In Duncan’s opinion, it was a win-win situation. The client paid a recovery fee, not a full-loss claim and the claimant’s property was returned. The brokers were happy because they recouped a fraction of an otherwise total loss. The system wasn’t perfect and pushed the spirit of the law, but when all concerned were pleased with the final outcome, he didn’t see a problem.
Duncan checked his watch. “Call Abe back and tell him I’ll be there within the hour. And have Marisa track down the Burbank and Ricci files.”
“What about Locke?” she asked, jotting down his instructions. “It’s a three-carat rock, and Abe did say he had a big one.”
“Pull the file,” he said. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Lucy rose up on her toes, trying to get a peek inside his office. “Anything else you need? Bail money? A lawyer?” She lowered her bifocals. “A cold shower?”
Lucy had been in his employ from day one and knew as much, if not more, than he did about the agency, the cases they handled, the people he employed and even himself. He couldn’t begin to imagine how the agency would ever get along without her. At the moment, however, the concept suddenly had merit.
“Just get me those files,” he told her. “I can handle the rest.”
She made a “harumph” sound, clearly indicating her opinion on the subject. With one last glance, she strode down the hall calling for Marisa, his administrative assistant.
Duncan closed the door and turned back to Sunny. “Sorry about that,” he said.
Uncertainty clouded her eyes when she faced him. “I better go.” She made no move to leave.
He snagged the tie he’d removed earlier from the hook on the back of the door. “How’s seven sound for dinner?”
She glanced nervously around the office. “Good,” she said, not looking at him. She cleared her throat. “Uh, where should I meet you?”
He would’ve preferred to pick her up himself, but he understood and respected her caution. Despite the hot kiss that still had his blood simmering, she knew very little about him. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t follow him back to his place after dinner, he thought hopefully.
Finished with his tie, he jotted the name of a casual restaurant close to his apartment on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “See you at seven.” He considered the wisdom of one last kiss. One final taste of sweet peppermint and hot passion.
She folded the note and slipped it inside her pocket. “I’ll see you then.”
He circled the desk. The door swung open and Lucy stormed in with one of the files he’d requested. “Here,” she said, thrusting the file in his direction. “The rest is somewhere in this mess.”
“I’ll find my way out,” Sunny said, then disappeared down the hall.
He turned to glare at Lucy. “Whatever happened to knocking?” Duncan complained. Her interruption—again—annoyed the hell out of him. So much for testing the wisdom of one last kiss.
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