“And Mrs. Orton had the seizure right after you applied the lipstick?" Reggie's voice was dead serious. Drea nodded. That little tidbit set off Cam's warning sirens. Not good. Reggie closed his notebook and deposited it in his inner jacket pocket. "Can you think of anything else?" Drea opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. Christ. So she had a possible motive, opportunity, means to kill Natasha Orton, and she was obviously holding something back. She may not be the only suspect, but even Cam had to admit she was a mighty good one.”

“He smiled. "You didn't think we were going to follow orders from a psychopath and run scared, did you?”

“I'm trying to picture you growing up with sisters." "I can do a double French braid in less than three minutes and I've bought more tampons than a thirty-one-year-old man should ever admit to.”

“Her skin glowed in dawn's soft light sneaking in through curtains, and she stretched her arms up toward the ceiling in a move that elongated everything above her waist and below his belt.”

“She rose to her feet, lining her body up with his and closing the gap between them. "What if I need help in a different way?" "Darlin', I'm a full-service kind of helper." His hand dropped to her left hips, sending a jolt of awareness straight to her clit. "You tell me what ache is building and I'll relieve it." His other hand fell to her right hip and he pulled her close. "Tell me where it itches and I'll scratch it." His cock, hard and thick, pressed against her, letting lose a wave of desire that threatened to overwhelm her. "Show me where it hurts and I'll kiss it better." "You make a lot of promises," she managed to get out... "And I'll deliver on every single one." He dipped his head lower, letting his lips brush across hers. "You can count on it.”

“And Mrs. Orton had the seizure right after you applied the lipstick?" Reggie's voice was dead serious. Drea nodded. That little tidbit set off Cam's warning sirens. Not good. Reggie closed his notebook and deposited it in his inner jacket pocket. "Can you think of anything else?" Drea opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. Christ. So she had a possible motive, opportunity, means to kill Natasha Orton, and she was obviously holding something back. She may not be the only suspect, but even Cam had to admit she was a mighty good one.”

“Just dinner?" If there was a God in heaven, no was the answer to that. "Whatever else is up to you and that little voice inside you telling you to jump my bones like a trampoline, darlin'." This time she did roll her eyes. "How charming." "Trust me, my charm isn't what the ladies love most about me.”

“So tell me, Tamara darlin', what other needs can I help you take care of?”

“This was going to be like hunting black cats at midnight on a moonless night.”

“You work with B-Squad." He nodded. "On a come-and-go basis as a freelancer." "Why's that?" From the number of B-Squad clients she'd had to turn away in the past month, Tamara knew the team could use another member. "I've been told I don't play well with others.”

“He'd been going out with his right hand for so long they were practically common law spouses.”