He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he swung hard, catching Jonah in the side of his jaw and sending him bouncing against the Dumpster. “You’re fired, you son of a bitch. I don’t ever want to see your face around here again.”

“She started it!” Jonah cried, cradling his jaw.

The adrenaline that had been driving her began to ooze away, leaving her tired and dispirited. “I kind of did,” she said.

Coop swiveled around and stared at her. When he finally spoke, each word was a surface-to-air missile. “You kind of did?”

“I hit him first.”

Ernie and Bryan nodded. “She did, boss.”

“I’m not good at self-restraint,” she said, as if that weren’t blindingly clear. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fire Jonah.”

Coop’s dangerous eyebrow went up.

“You would?” Jonah said, clearly dumbfounded.

“Not because of me, anyway,” she said.

Coop was furious. “Maybe I should fire you instead? Because clearly you can’t be left unsupervised.”

“If I could respectfully disagree . . .” Ernie said. “She’s been making our job a lot easier.”

To her shock, Jonah spoke up, even as he continued to cradle his jaw. “That bachelorette party tonight. A couple of ’em were causing trouble, and she took care of it.”

Coop looked ready to explode. “Everybody get the hell out of here!”

She was more than willing to do that.

“Except you.” His finger aimed at her temple. “Stay right where you are.”

He kept her waiting until all three men had hastily driven away, and then he grabbed her arm and started dragging her toward his car.

She tried to dig in her heels. “It would probably be better if I went to my apartment now.”

“You’re going to my place.” He planted his hand on top of her head as if he were a cop and shoved her into the Tesla’s passenger seat. “I don’t want Jada and Karah to hear you scream.”

Not good at all.

He took off down the alley, tires spitting gravel. Even when he was calm, he was an aggressive driver, and since he wasn’t calm now, he was hell on wheels. As she breathed in the scent of his brown suede jacket, she ticked off all the ways she’d failed them both. She’d been juvenile, unprofessional, and hotheaded—dangerous qualities in an investigator. And all because she hadn’t been enough of a grown woman to put her leftover childhood insecurities behind her. Coop had every right to be furious with her.

The area around his garage was mercifully free of predators, except for him. When she didn’t get out of the car quickly enough—and why should she hurry?—he extracted her. As soon as her feet hit the cement, he pressed her against the car and ran his hands over her body, touching pretty much whatever he wanted to touch, his jaw set like tempered steel. “Not armed?”

“I wanted to teach him a lesson, not kill him.”

His hands slid up the insides of her thighs, then moved from her butt to her waist. When he was satisfied, he led her from the garage. “Let’s go.”

“Look, Coop . . . I understand you’re pissed, and I don’t blame—”

“Oh, no. I’m not pissed. I’m way beyond pissed.” He clasped her upper arm again, not hurting her, but holding her in a lock she’d have trouble breaking.

They were inside his condo much too soon, but now that he had her there, he didn’t seem certain what to do with her. A perfect time to make a dash toward the kitchen. “Hungry? I’ll fix you an omelet.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said thoughtfully. “I’m trying to decide whether I want to do this rough or easy.”

She held up her hand. “I vote for easy.”

“You don’t have a vote.” He tossed his suede jacket over the back of the couch. “So I’m clear . . . You started the fight, right?”

“Technically.”

“Technically?”

“We have a history, but—”

“And you decided the best way to handle that history was to go after a former Clemson linebacker in the alley? Do I have that right?”

“If you give a bully an inch . . .”

“That’s only true when you’re twelve!”

Before she could concede his point, he stalked toward her. “If you had problems with Jonah, you should have come to me.”

Suddenly, she was as hot as he. “I handle my own problems.”

“By damn, not any longer. I’m either going to fire your ass or . . . or . . .” He seemed to be having difficulty coming up with something more dire, even though getting fired was at the top of her personal dire list. “Or . . . spank it.”

“You’re not serious.”

He actually seemed to ponder. “Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess I am.” One of his long arms whipped out, snaked her waist, lifted her off her feet, and dragged her to the couch. Seconds later, he turned her upside down over his lap.

She blinked.

His palm came down hard on the fleshiest part of her rear. All the blood rushed to her head. “Ow! Oh, my god! You are kidding me!”

Another smack. “Does this feel like I’m kidding?” Whack.

“It feels like you’ve lost your mind.”

“Never felt saner.” Whack. Whack.

“This is wrong in so many ways. I don’t even know where to start. Ouch! Yes, I do know! I’m calling my lawyer.”

“You don’t have a lawyer.” Another smack. “Besides, don’t you read? Rough sex is the rage these days.”

“Only between consenting adults! Stop it! Do I look like I’m consenting?”

“If you weren’t, I’d be on my ass right now.”

True. She was hardly helpless. She let another smack land, then gritted her teeth. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You worry about yourself.”

Another whap. And then his hand stalled. His palm curled around the sting. Lingered. Rubbed.

“Cooper Graham! You are feeling me up.”

“I’m sure I’m not.” His hand slid between her legs, cupping her through the denim, and his voice held a husky edge that made her weak with lust. First she’d engaged in playground behavior, and now she’d let herself be turned on by caveman theatrics. She was hopeless. And, despite all the lectures she’d given herself, she didn’t care. “My mistake,” she said, her voice as raspy as his.