In the Teeth of the Wind Read Online Free Page B

preferred to do the chasing and
    didn't feel comfortable as the quarry.
    "Sonofabitch," he whispered.
    Shaking his head at the encounter, he couldn't believe it had actually happened. He worried over it,
    wondering how Felicity Rogers had found him. Finally, with an angry snort of self-derision, he flipped off
    the bedroom light, dropped the towel from his hips and climbed naked into the bed, flinging the covers
    over him with a snarl.
    For a long, long time he lay there, hands beneath his damp hair, staring blindly at the ceiling. His body
    had not calmed down; his blood and juices still raced through him. He ached as though he'd been celibate
    for months when, in truth, it had only been a day or two since he'd last buried himself in the tender flesh
    of a woman's willing body.
    Frustrated with his lingering lust, he turned over and buried his face in the pillow.

____________________
    *Chapter Three*
    Although most of the cops at the precinct flirted with Detective Rhianna Marek, only a handful had
    ever dared to ask the petite sable-haired beauty for a date. She was considered to be Conor Nolan's
    woman. Despite what the guys in the precinct thought, the Irishman and Marek had a platonic alliance
    and both seemed happy to keep it that way. Their association had become comfortable for the both of
    them. Neither had to worry about being chased at work. Neither had to worry about the complexities of
    an on-going male/female relationship that would eventually go sour because of the nature of their work.
    Neither had to worry about not having a date when they wanted to go out. They were content with the
    way things were and rarely fought. Each was the other's confidante and sounding board. And when
    Conor felt the urge to wander off in search of a bed partner, as he did on occasion, Rhianna always
    welcomed him back without a single word of recrimination.
    Sitting at her desk, listening to Triplett describe his latest encounter with the Culinary Arts of
    Seduction, she smiled and nodded, made the appropriate 'ah' when Trip described how his meringue had
    come out to perfection.
    Her dazed attention shifted across the room to where Nolan sat and she wondered why he looked so
    ragged.
    "And the Wellington was superb!" Trip put his fingers together and kissed the tips. "Magnifique! "
    "But did you get any?" asked Brett Samuel. The black detective leaned over Trip's desk, his
    expression avid.
    Trip grinned. "I always get some with my Beef Wellington, my man! It's all that rich, salty juice flowing
    out of the meat, you know?" He wagged his thick black brows.
    "Which meat?" Samuel demanded.
    Rhianna groaned with disgust and got up from her desk. She swiped up her coffee cup. "You men are
    sick."
    "Rhianna's embarrassed!" Samuel taunted in a singsong voice. He turned and yelled across the room to
    Nolan. "Hey, Conor?" When the Irishman looked around, the black detective grinned. "You must not be
    giving Marek what she needs, bro."
    "Or not giving it to her often enough!" someone else joked.
    The room burst into knowing hoots of laughter. Rhianna's face turned red and Nolan's brows drew
    together in a fierce scowl. Annoyed, he let out a long breath. Rhianna got up and ducked into the break
    room
    "Why don't you assholes grow up!" said Nolan as he pushed up from his desk and followed Marek.
    Rhianna jumped as Conor's hand fell on her shoulder and he bumped against her. "Hey, pretty lady,"
    he whispered in her ear. She tilted her head to the side as he bent to put a quick kiss on her cheek.
    "You'd think they'd get tired of harassing me, wouldn't you?" The moment he'd touched Marek,
    Conor's arousal of the night before came rushing back. It stunned him, shocked him to the core of his
    being with its visceral strength. Her perfume invaded his nostrils to send shivers of lust stabbing through
    his lower abdomen and his hand tightened on her shoulder. Before he knew what he was doing, he had
    pressed himself against her. "God, you do