Page 146 of The Case of the Missing Love Stone

“Already there,” Tom says.

“Good.” He lowers his voice. “Roman, her temperature.”

I reach for the thermometer while keeping Scarlet tucked against me. She accepts it without argument. The display climbs before settling.

“One hundred two point four.”

“Fuck.” Wes exhales through the speaker. “Too high.”

“Below Cole’s transfer threshold,” I reply. “I’m logging it.”

Scarlet tenses harder. Her scent rises, fuller and sweeter, pushing my beta toward the edge of control. My cock aches against her lower back. She feels it and reaches behind her, then curls her fingers around me through my briefs.

“Need you now.”

I kiss her shoulder. “You have me, love.”

She turns in my arms, pulling me over her. Her legs open around my hips. Vulnerability softens every line of her face. “Stay inside me until he comes back.”

I press my forehead to hers. “I can do that.”

I shove my briefs down, then enter Scarlet slowly, bracing myself against her feverish need. I pull nearly free before filling her again.

“Again. Harder.” She squirms beneath me, her hips rising to meet every thrust.

I find a rhythm while cradling her close, sliding into her fast and deep. She makes a mess of my cock, her body chasing release as the heat burns through her. She takes everything I have, the two of us falling into the rise and fall of her breaths.

The bedroom door opens before the last tremors of her orgasm leave her.

Wes returns smelling of greenhouse soil, crushed leaves, and night air. He strips off the contaminated gloves at the threshold and seals them in an evidence bag before coming to the bed.

Scarlet reaches for him. He climbs into the nest and gathers both of us close, one hand spreading over my back and the other cupping Scarlet’s heated cheek.

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice rough with relief.

She rubs her face against his palm. “Did you catch him?”

“No.”

Fear stirs through her scent.

“But we will.” Wes presses his mouth to her temple. “We will keep you safe.”

I shift beside her, and Wes’s hand follows the movement down my spine.

She turns and reaches for a kiss, catching Wes’s lower lip while my hand remains between her thighs. Three mouths. Three scents. One overheated nest.

Beyond the curtains, deputies move through the greenhouse with evidence lamps.

Scarlet’s body climbs toward another wave. She buries her face against Wes’s throat and catches my wrist.

“Need both of you,” she whispers.

Wes’s eyes meet mine over her hair. We close around her before the next cramp can take her alone.

Chapter 34

Wes Osprey