"But... oh God... Wait. How'd you get in here?"
"You left the back door unlocked. I took it as an invitation. Now answer the question. What do you do?"
Willow gasped and pressed back against him, causing him to clench his teeth with wanting. Almost going cross-eyed, he grabbed her hip to hold her back just a few seconds longer. "DeVane," he coaxed in a sing-song voice. "What... do... you... do?"
"I... I can't... how the hell am I supposed to concentrate? You're naked."
"Yeah, and your housebreaker might be naked too." He pulled another inch away from her, making her growl out her frustration. Rolling her into her stomach, he climbed on top of her, pinning her to her bed with his body. When she tried to push her butt up to unite them, he stopped her.
She slapped her pillow with an irritated muffled sound and struggled to have her way, but he held her fast, pressing her tight to the mattress. "What do you do?" He refused to give up on the question.
"I don't know!" she screeched. "I'm too tired to think."
"Well, he sure as hell isn't going to give you time to wake up and think."
He wanted to lecture further, make her realize just how dangerous it was to keep her back door unlocked. But he could see too much of her tousled hair and smooth naked back in the moonlight filtering into the room through the closed window blinds. He could feel too much of her soft skin to play defense instructor any longer. He answered the question for her. "Throw your head back and crack him in the face with the back of your skull. Okay?"
"Okay." She grew still, purring as he continued to stroke her. "And if I want him to stay?"
"Then let me in. Now."
With a grateful sigh, she did.
Twelve
Willow let out a depleted hum of contentment when Malloy finally pulled himself from her still-thrumming body. She listened to him collapse on the mattress somewhere behind her, landing on his back and letting out a yawn.
Completely awake now, she waited a minute until he stopped moving. Then she reached over, turned on the night lamp and rolled around to make sure it was really him back there. Of course it was, but she'd never had some guy sneak into her room in the middle of the night and make hot, intense love to her without once turning on a light.
It was a little exciting not seeing his face through any of it. Now that it was over, however, she looked at him fully, appreciating how handsome he was. She reached out and touched his black hair. For such a rough and rowdy guy, he sure had silky soft hair. It was beautiful. She let herself enjoy running her fingers through what little of it he had let grow.
Suddenly, she realized what she was doing. This was the same man who'd snuck from her bed a week ago without saying goodbye and hadn't talked to her since. Now he trespassed back into her home as if he owned the place and crawled into her bed with every confidence she'd let him stay. And here she was, letting him stay.
Pulling her hand from where she'd lovingly planted it in his short locks, she frowned when he murmured in his sleep, letting her know he didn't want her to quit stroking him.
"Hey," she said, jabbing him into the fleshy sensitive part of his ribs, just under his arm where she'd seen his sister nudge him to get his attention.
He answered with an irritated, half-conscious grunt.
"Oh, no, you don't."
"Hmm," he mumbled sleepily. "Don't what?"
"Wake your butt up. Damn it, Malloy. How dare you come in here uninvited and rouse me from a dead sleep only to wham, bam me and then pass out like nothing just happened?"
He groaned like a rebelling child being forced to eat all the vegetables on his plate. Then, patting her on the butt, he said, "Thank you, ma'am," after which he slung a heavy arm over her hip and asked, "There. Now can I get some freaking rest?"
Unable to believe he would dare, Willow gasped. "Hell, no. You're the one who jerked me from a nice, peaceful dream. Now, get up and talk to me until I fall back to sleep."
"Talk?" He said the word as if he'd never heard it before.
"You know," she helped. "Stringing a list of words together to form complete sentences and then speaking them to another person. It's called conversation."
"What in the world do you want to talk about?" He sounded dumbfounded. "You can't want to know if it was good for me. I think that was pretty obvious. And if you were trying to keep it a secret how it was for you, then you should've been a little less vocal when you came."
"Oh, my God, Malloy," she growled, jerking to a sitting position and swinging around to ream him a new one because she'd never met a man with so much insolence. "I cannot believe you said—"
Willow stopped talking midsentence, distracted by the heap he'd left on the floor. "Did you just get off work?"
She couldn't seem to take her eyes away from his duty belt crumpled to the carpet on top of his bulletproof vest and combat boots. It was interesting to see all the things cops wrapped around their waists when they went to work. Good thing Malloy was such a big guy; if he were any skinnier, there was no way he would be able to fit all that stuff around his hips. Twisting at the waist, she frowned at him in confusion.
"But you were working earlier today at the courthouse. Shouldn't you have gotten off duty hours ago?"
"Mmm," he answered at first, only to wet his lips. Finally, he cracked open one eye and glanced up at her. "I worked a double. We had an officer quit."
"Oh," Willow said. She watched him lie there a moment, his eyes reclosing and his lashes resting against his cheeks.
He looked exhausted. She wanted to reach out and cuddle him.
"If you're so hog-wild to talk," he mumbled, opening both eyes this time to point a scowl up at her, "what was wrong with speaking to me earlier today at the courthouse? I didn't see you demanding a conversation then."
She blinked, surprised by the accusing tone in his voice. She hadn't expected him to be irked over it. Because, well—
Scowling in realization, she set her hands on her hips. "You know, you didn't exactly race over to talk to me, either."
The arrogant, pin-headed man. If he had made one move to talk to her, she would've given him every bit of her attention. God, she probably would've dragged him to the nearest bathroom and had her wicked way with him. It was somewhat funny to think about now. She'd been aware of no one but him from the moment she'd spotted him huddled with the other uniformed men. And here, he thought she hadn't even noticed him. What a joke.
The only reason she hadn't immediately gone straight toward him was because he'd been surrounded by his friends, and she really hadn't been in the mood to watch all his cop buddies eye her like a piece of free meat. She'd been so sure he would've told everyone about their extra-curricular activities. He'd scored with the judge's pretty daughter. Woohoo.
When she finally realized none of them had a clue, she—
Her mood turning a complete one-eighty, Willow suddenly leaned down and kissed him softly on the mouth. "Thank you."
He blinked repeatedly, looking dazed. "For what?"
"For not turning me into some kind of trashy locker room gossip." She sighed. "You can't imagine how many men have claimed they've been with me when they never have. You, on the other hand, would've actually been telling the truth, yet you told no one." She beamed gratefully.
He frowned, looking a little confused. "And just who was I supposed to tell?"
She shook her head. "No one. I just... None of those officer friends you were talking to today seemed to know."
He snorted sourly. "Like they would've believed me even if I had told them. By the way you completely ignored me, I couldn't believe it myself."
"Oh, you poor baby," she crooned mockingly, stroking his hair to give herself a reason to touch him again.
He glowered and caught her hand. "Or maybe I haven't said anything because I don't have a clue where I stand with you. Spending two nights together doesn't exactly mean we're going steady. I'm not sure if they were freak incidents or if we're actually starting something. Hell, I was fully prepared to get kicked out on my ass when I came in here tonight."
"Were you?" she murmured, grinning as she tugged free of his hold to trace her finger up his nicely-defined chest. "How cute."
He caught her hand again. "Not cute," he retorted. "It's called damned confused. Since we've done this on three different occasions, I'm guessing we can no longer call it a one-time deal."
"Why, Malloy," she murmured, lying down on her stomach next to him and resting her chin on her hands to bat her lashes like a schoolgirl. "Are you asking to go steady? I'm flattered."
Now she really had him flustered. And she loved it. She loved that he wanted something more than sex. Her belly tightened with excitement.
"Damn it," he muttered. "I'm not asking to—"
Cursing under his breath, he sat up and pinned her with a dark look. "Look, when I sleep with a woman, I don't share. So, if we're going to continue this—whatever the hell it is—it's going to be exclusive. You might as well consider your little county councilman officially blocked."
"County councilman?" she repeated before rolling her eyes. "You mean Cole?" She snorted and sarcastically replied, "Yes, I'm sure he'll be crushed." She must've been a lot slower on the uptake than she realized because it took her another second to comprehend what he was saying. "Wait a second. What do you think you know about me and Cole?"
He shrugged, not exactly meeting her gaze when he answered, "There's some gossip going around about you and him."
"That we're sleeping together?" she asked, incredulously.
Sure, she'd expected Malloy to kiss and tell but she hadn't thought Cole would ever start rumors, especially false ones. It made her supremely happy he'd never gotten past a goodnight kiss.
"Just which one of your deputy friends heard I'd been with Cole?"
That question seemed to amuse him. "Actually, they each thought you were sleeping with a different person. I can't remember which one of them pinpointed DiAngelo."
"So, which one of them was right about who I've actually been entertaining in my bedroom?"
Giving her a cocky grin, Malloy answered, "I was."
"You..." Willow stopped breathing. So, he had tattled. She didn't want to dwell on the disappointment pulsing through her, but it kept swirling around her stomach like an annoying gnat that refused to go away, bothering her more with each breath she drew.
"I said I knew who you hadn't been sleeping with: any of them."
The relief bloomed in her chest. Willow couldn't help but smile. "Did you?" she answered. "How did they take that?"
"They called me an ass."
She laughed and curled toward him, pressing her back against his chest and spooning into a comfortable spot. He sneezed and pushed her hair out of his face.
"Well, they're right about one thing." She grinned, closing her eyes and feeling suddenly very content. "You are an ass."
Behind her, Malloy made a growling sound and pinched her hip. "Watch who you're calling names, woman, or I'll let the entire department know who really warms your bed."
He was bluffing, and they both knew it. Making a purring sound deep in her throat, she cuddled closer. "So, who else am I supposedly doing?"
He yawned and evaded the question. "Why do you keep your kitchen light on at night?"
She blinked, curious as to why he wouldn't answer her. "I don't."
"It was on when I showed up," he countered. "Why do you think I went ahead and came inside?"
She frowned. "It was not on."
"Was too."
He didn't seem to be lying, which was odd. She very clearly remembered pausing in the kitchen before going to bed and staring at the back door. She purposely hadn't locked it as a small rebellion to him. Smiling, she'd turned and cut the lights before strolling back to her bedroom.
"Maybe Dylan came by again for some more bread," she murmured thoughtfully, though she couldn't picture Dylan leaving the light on either.
"Taggart," Malloy growled the name on an accusatory tone of voice. "He visit you a lot in the middle of the night?"
Willow yawned this time, feeling sleep seep in around her. "Only that once."
"In other words, you only caught him that once. Might be, he comes over all the time."
"He'd be welcome if he did," she retorted, growing irritated. If Malloy wanted to become suspicious of anyone, Dylan should be the last man on his list.
"Might be," he suggested as if he hadn't heard her. "He's been stalking you for some time now."
She laughed. "Malloy, you are so far off it isn't even funny. Dylan loves his wife. He's absolutely crazy about Camille. There's no way he looks at other women, much less stalks them. He treats my cousin like a queen. Okay? So, just stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking."
He didn't answer, but she could tell by the tension in his body he disagreed. She rolled her eyes and patted his arm, wondering if it was in a cop's basic nature to be so pessimistic and unreasonable. As she moved her leg up along his, delighting in the feel of his hairy skin sliding against her smoothly shaved calves, Willow decided his bad attitude wasn't really so annoying. It was actually sweet that he worried enough about her to suspect everyone else of evil doing. Even her closest friends.