"Arty finally got into the police database. He is trying to run facial recognition between the sketches and known mugshots.
"Which only helps if they've been arrested," I said, sighing. If they were careful enough to use normal people as forced assassins, they likely didn't get pulled in on other charges either.
"Don't lose hope. We will figure it out. We always do. Right, McCoy?" he called, making me turn to find him walking in from the front.
We hadn't exactly gotten as much time together as I was thinking we would. He and his guys had thrown themselves into hitting up local contacts with copies of the sketches. Between that and the fact that the guys and the girls and the kids were around a lot of the time, we had almost no time alone to talk since we'd shown up.
"Right, what?" McCoy asked.
"Your girl here needs some comforting," Remy declared, patting McCoy on his back before moving off to see the kittens with Belle.
"He right?" McCoy asked, wrapping an arm around my waist, then pulling me with him back into the kitchen.
"I'm fine. I was just saying that we are only going to find the guys if they have been arrested before."
"There are always ways. Impatient to get out of here, huh?" he asked, voice a little tight, like he didn't like the idea of that.
"No. Not at all. I just... I don't like worrying about you guys every time you leave."
"Us guys, huh?" McCoy asked, brow raising. "All of us?"
"Well," I started, smile tugging at my lips. "Maybe one of you more than the others," I said. "I mean, I have really gotten attached to Eddie's cooking," I finished.
And I did it.
I finally did it.
I got an actual smile out of the man who seemed allergic to them.
"Eddie, huh?" he asked, eyes bright as he released me, but only so he could stalk toward me, backing me up against the wall. "So, it wasn't my name you called out in your sleep last night?" he asked.
Had I?
I had no recollection of it.
But, you know, I'd been asleep and all.
If I had, he likely would have been able to hear since Belle and I were crashing in the room right across from his. Huck's old room, if I remembered correctly. Which was massive enough to hold a regular-sized couch that Belle opted to sleep on to avoid my habitual sleep flailing.
"Seems like you went from fighting Mr. Hicklerman to fucking me in your dreams," he said, making my sex clench hard just at the mention of it.
"Well, it couldn't have been all that good, though. Since I don't remember it at all," I teased, shooting him a smile.
"Well, maybe sleep me isn't as good as real me," McCoy suggested, leaning inward.
"I have no proof of that, I'm afraid," I said, tssking my tongue.
"Think I can do something about that," he told me, pressing in, pinning me to the wall, then resting his forearm on the wall above my head, towering over me.
"Really? Like what?"
"Maybe something like this," he said a second before his lips crashed down on mine. Hard, hungry, setting off a wave of sensation through my system, making me acutely aware of the feel of him, the scent of him, and the taste of him.
A low moan moved through me as his hands moved down, grabbing my wrists, then pinning them over my head as his teeth nipped my lower lip, as his tongue moved inside to claim mine.
McCoy ground his pelvis into me, making me acutely aware that I wasn't the only one who was aching with need.
With my arms pinned, all I could do was raise my leg and hook it around his lower back, opening myself up to him as he pressed against me one more, this time touching just where I needed it most, getting a deep, ragged sound from me that had him pulling away to look down at me with hungry eyes.
McCoy's hands released my wrists, grabbing my ass instead, yanking me up until I had no choice but to reach out and grab him as he lifted me up, and started walking me toward the stairs.
I had no idea how he managed to ascend as his lips were on mine again, pressing, teeth nipping, tongue circling, but the next thing I knew, we were inside his room, and my back was slamming against the door as his lips ripped from mine, then started to kiss down my neck.
"I think I need more proof," I murmured, desperate to feel his hands on me, his weight on me.
The only answer I got to that was a deep, sexy growl that moved through him and vibrated into me as he turned and walked toward the bed. There was a short pause before I was flying backward. Before I even stopped bouncing on the mattress, McCoy's hands were grabbing the waistband of my shorts and panties, and dragging them down my legs.
Anticipation shivered over every last nerve ending as the cool air teased over my bare skin.
I figured he would spread my legs, would come over me.
But no.
Instead, his hands grabbed my ankles, sinking in, folding them over each other, then yanking, and rolling me onto my back.
It was only then that I felt the mattress depress as he lowered onto it, then leaned forward, his lips pressing a kiss at the small of my back, then moving upward. His hand grabbed my shirt, inching it up, his lips and tongue tracing each exposed bit of skin.
Once between my shoulder blades, he pressed back onto his heels, then reached for me, his hands sinking in at my sides, pulling me onto my hands, then back against his chest, allowing him to remove my shirt, then bra.
My head fell back against his shoulder, turning into his neck, taking a deep breath.
McCoy's hands slid down to my hips, then moved forward over my belly, then up until his hands covered my bare breasts.
"Better than dream me?" he asked, voice rough as his hips shifted forward, his hard cock pressing against my ass.
"Well... I thin—ah," I whimpered as his fingers grabbed my nipples and pinched hard enough to sting. I didn't expect the rush of need between my thighs at the pain, but there was no denying it either.
"McCoy..." I whimpered, my hips rocking against him.
"Yeah?" he asked, his tongue teasing down the side of my ear, then nipping the lobe.
"Please," I cried.
"Please what, babe?"
"Please, touch me," I demanded, my hand moving upward, grabbing his wrist, and guiding it down my belly, then pressing it between my thighs.
A growling noise escaped him as his fingers slid up my slick cleft, finding my clit, and circling it. "So wet for me," he rumbled in my ear, making my hips do a circle.
On an impatient groan, my hand pressed on top of his, guiding his thumb to my clit, and pressing his fingers downward.
"Please," I begged again, beyond anything even resembling pride. I was too far gone, too needy, too ready for him.
That growling noise moved through him again as his fingers tapped on the entrance to my body a few times before sliding in.
"So tight," he mumbled as my walls grabbed his fingers.
He wasted no time driving me upward, his fingers starting slow and steady, then faster and faster until I was writhing and whimpering.
"No!" I cried when I was just about pushed to the edge, and his fingers pulled out of me, left me completely. The disappointment was a sharp, aching sensation that had me trying to push his hand back down.
But McCoy refused to cooperate as he grabbed me and pushed me forward, grabbing my hips, and tossing me onto my back.