Lost Souls (A Caitlyn O’Connell Novel) Read Online Free

lead? “Third floor? Room 323?”
    Her gaze swung, locking with his. “Exactly.” Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Why were you here? You knew I’d be on stakeout until late. Thought we weren’t meeting until Friday.”
    Sam frowned. “Leland wants you.”
    “Another case?” Her glance held steady. “The room?” At his nod, she cursed. “I knew it,” she muttered, lips tightening.
    “I’ll show you what I have if you show me yours.”
    Her cheeks flushed, and her lips stretched. “No more sexy talk. I can’t think when you say things like that. Another full-moon case?”
    “Right up your alley, baby.”
    She pushed off the sofa and walked toward her bedroom.
    He trailed behind.
    When her face turned toward his again, her expression was tight, her skin a little pale. “Ready for another round of crazy train?” she asked softly.
    Sam wasn’t ready for another case like the last one, but if he wasn’t the one to bring it to her, Leland would rope her in anyway. His boss, her old nemesis, was a believer now. “So long as you let me have your back.”
    Her eyelashes fluttered. “Sure that’s all you want?” she drawled.
    Sam canted his head. “Thought you wanted to lose the sexy talk.”
    She walked to him and leaned against his chest, rubbing her breasts against his body. Her eyelids dipped. “Is that really what you want?”
    Knowing she was stalling, but not caring since her nipples were tight and scraping his chest, he dipped his head toward hers. “Maybe we should get this out of the way before we get down to business.”
    “I like the way you think, Detective Pierce,” she said, her hands flicking open the buttons of his dress shirt.
    Sam inhaled deeply, content to let her do the work while he watched. He lifted his hands to cup her hips and drag her against the part of him most eager for her attention.
    “You’re not making this any easier,” she murmured, bending slightly back so she could finish with the buttons. Then she slid his shirt off his shoulders, forcing him to let go so the garment could fall to the floor.
    Then all bets were off. He rucked up his T-shirt, dragging it over his head. Her busy fingers were already freeing his belt, opening his trousers, and reaching inside—
    The moment she wrapped her firm grip around his shaft, his eyes squeezed shut. “Jesus, Cait.”
    “Love the way you say that,” she said, her voice a throaty murmur.
    Her hair brushed his belly, and he opened his eyes, eager for the sight of her dropping to her knees in front of him. With one hand holding his cock, she bobbed forward, taking him into her mouth. Engulfed in sweet heat, he rocked on his heels. Then she grabbed for the waistband of his trousers and shoved them down his tightened thighs.
    She’d forgotten his shoes, and he couldn’t step out of his clothing. Maybe that was her intent, because she scrambled backward and began removing her own clothes, slinging away her tank and shoving down her jeans, all the while watching him with a slightly wild glint in her eyes. When she was nude except for her bra, she grabbed his arm and swung him toward the bed.
    He went down, sitting on the edge, his feet bound together. She didn’t mind. Her smirk was wide, her eyes glittering with triumph as she straddled his lap and shoved at his chest, forcing him to lie back.
    Above him, she shook back her long hair, looking every inch the exotic Irish witch: pale skin, rusty brown nipples, dark thatch of hair between her legs. Her slender but strong frame undulated, the muscles of her abdomen bunching then stretching as she rubbed her sex along his length. She leaned down, bracing on her arms as she scooped his lips with her own lushly swollen mouth.
    He kissed her back, his arms encircling her. “This would work so much better if you got my shoes off,” he whispered.
    “Think I want you in charge?”
    The challenge heated his blood. He gave her a rueful smile. “Don’t you always?”
    She traced his