Free Belle Fury: Manhatten Ten, Book 3 by Lola Dodge

answer when I knocked…”
    “Come in.” I minimized the crime scene photos filling my monitor. She didn’t need that on her mind. “How was your morning?”
    “Productive.” She set one of the caf’s to-go boxes on my desk. “Figured you’d be working. Angel said you liked the teriyaki bacon burger.” Belle shook her head. “Before this, I thought my ballet studio was awesome for putting in a water cooler.”
    “Perks.” I salivated, and not just for the burger. In her flowing skirt and spandex, she looked like some burlesque angel.
    “I’ve been thinking.” Belle hadn’t moved from my side of the desk. I wanted to grab her and sling her over my lap, but Angel would have my ass if I busted the office again. “If I’m going to be here a while…”
    “Yeah?” God, I hoped she was. We were only starting to get to know each other.
    “I’d like to make the most of it.” She grabbed the armrests and leaned in, her breath heated my ear. “What do you think?”
    This woman. Damn.
    That quick and I had Belle in my arms. She pulled my hair back and pressed her lips to mine. My hands fisted in her hair, drawing her closer. Both of us were all gasps and heat. I needed to slow down, but I wanted her too bad to care.  
    “Time out.” Belle broke our kiss when the lights flickered. She backed away and took a deep breath. “We’re gonna have to continue this later.”
    I kicked the wall, rolling my chair back to my desk. No other way to hide the hard-on. “That better be a promise.”
    “Have a nice afternoon.” Belle finger-waved on the way out. I put my head down on the desk.
    It was like that all week.  
    All. Week. And the more I got to know about Belle, the more I wanted her. Her determination made me want to be a better hero. Hell, a better person.
    Belle yoga’d and practiced during the days and hung with me at night. We made out on the couch, dry-humping like teenagers, breathing each other in as long as we could until one of us exploded something or flipped the coffee table. Then we’d chat, comparing Georgia and Washington and trying to decide whose childhood was more messed up. She usually beat me on that, and I wished I could take away her bad memories. I was on the verge of taking a vacation day to go South and tell off her parents face-to-face.
    Belle found me in the elevator or my office, and our hands and lips got more adventurous, but we kept the clothes on. I counted the seconds until that changed. At least I got some work done. It got easier to combat the suck, knowing Belle would be there when I left the office, and I never knew when she’d drop in for a “visit.”
    By Friday morning, I was so wound up I almost hopped in on her in the shower, but I only got as far as gripping the doorknob. If things got out of control—and they always would with Belle—neither of us were trying to be naked around that much shattered glass.
    I was sipping coffee when she breezed through in another one of her flowing semi-see-through outfits.
    “Morning.” She poured herself a cup.
    “You headed down?”  
    “Yeah. I’m close to really getting it under control.”
    I downed the rest of my coffee. It was great for Belle—even more amazing considering the short time she’d had her powers—and it showed the crazy effort she was putting in. That didn’t make it great news. Belle had a penthouse ready to go upstairs, but she didn’t have to stay if she didn’t want. She had every right to leave and try to salvage her dance career…
    I didn’t want her to.  
    Selfish, dude. Selfish.
    “You mind if I tag along?” I’d popped in to check on her but hadn’t tested her as much as I should. If she was that close to control, I had to be the judge. You can always say she’s not ready…
    “Sure.”
    We headed down in companionable silence. Or maybe our coffee hadn’t kicked in yet.
    The stadium was too big to be crowded, but Belle was slowly moving in more equipment. Her barre stood near