The Heat Is On by Jill Shalvis

now.”
    â€œBut—”
    His hot gaze swept down her body one more time. He pressed in close, kissed her hard and just a little bit rough, and loving it, she kissed him back in the same way, but then he was pulling free, shaking his head as he moved away. He shoved his hands into his pockets as if he didn’t quite trust himself. “We can’t— I can’t sleep with you while this case is open.”
    â€œIt’s not your case.”
    He let out a long, slow breath, as if struggling for control. “You need to be careful with what you’re saying to me. Only last night, you wanted me to think you were moving to Siberia.”
    This was unfortunately true. “Yes, but there’s something I didn’t anticipate.”
    He just looked at her.
    How to explain that last night, when he’d been pulling off her clothes, his hands everywhere on her, both demanding and somehow gentle at the sametime, she’d been aware even then that being with him was going to be different.
    Better than anything she’d known.
    It’d scared her in the heat of the moment. But now, she wanted to experience it again.
    Just one more time…
    The fact was, in the dark of the night, he’d made her body sing the Hallelujah Chorus, and in the light of day her body wanted a repeat. “We seem to have a little chemistry problem.”
    He didn’t move, but she could see the agreement in his eyes. Plus, he was still hard. Gloriously hard. Her fingers itched to touch, and she reached for him to do just that, until his words stopped her.
    â€œHow long are you staying in Santa Rey?”
    â€œI don’t know. Why? Trying to figure out if this still qualifies as a one-night stand?” She smiled. “Because I have no problem with a two-night stand. Maybe even a three-night stand if you play your cards right. And by the way, I don’t have an aversion to daytime sex, either.”
    He ran his gaze over her features. Finally, he turned to the door.
    â€œLet me guess,” she said to his back, fascinated by the play of muscles as he reached for the handle. “This time it’s you who’s moving to Siberia?”
    When he looked back at her, the heat was still in his gaze. His mouth barely curved in a hint of a smile, testosterone leaking from his every pore. “No. I stick, remember?”
    â€œThen?”
    â€œMaybe I’m just giving you time to absorb what’s happened.”
    â€œThe murder?”
    â€œThe fact that we’re drawn to each other like a moth to the flame. The fact that it’s only a matter of time before I get you in bed again—if you’re still around. And this time, there’ll be no pretty lies at the end. It is what it is.”
    Every single erogenous zone in her body quivered. “And what is it?”
    He flashed her a wicked, naughty grin, and opened the door. “Lock the door,” he said, and then he was gone.
    Â 
    J ACOB DROVE HOME TO his ranch-style house in the sprawling, rolling hills that backdropped Santa Rey. He’d bought the house back when it was a piece of shit and no one had wanted to live all the way out here, and as a result, he’d gotten it and the land damn cheap. Good thing, as he could never afford it now that the area was in fashion.
    He’d slowly fixed the place up one room at a time, using his own hands and cheap labor—his brothers. He’d found that for the price of beer and pizza, he could coax them out on the weekends, and as a result, his place had become Madden central.
    So he wasn’t all that surprised when he pulled up and found Cord and Austin in his backyard, drinkinghis beer and idly watching his two horses roam the pen they’d all worked on putting up.
    Austin handed him a beer.
    Cord offered an opened tin of cookies, half-empty.
    No one spoke until Jacob had taken a long pull from the beer and put away two chocolate-chip cookies, obviously