Position Secured by Olivia Brynn Page B

joke or a ploy.”
    Just then, she heard an authoritative voice boom through a megaphone from behind her house. “Drop the gun, Wilson.”
    “Hurry up, ma’am,” the cop on the other side of her door growled. His low tone impressed the urgency. “I’ll break the door down if I have to. It could mean the life of an officer.”
    If it was a ruse, he’d gone to a hell of a lot of trouble to set it up. The megaphone voice went off again, matching this guy’s intensity. She clutched her robe closer to her chest and unlocked the door.
    Lieutenant Pearson burst in, barely nodded his thanks and, without a word, stormed down the hall and into her bedroom. Chester tore out and skittered back under the couch in record time.
    Mari just stared after him. He even smelled good. Her entire body reacted to the testosterone surge filling her home. If she weren’t already on the brink of an amazing orgasm, his mere presence would have kicked it into gear. She followed him into her room, where he’d swept a stack of books from her windowsill onto the floor and knelt close to the edge of the window. He was in place with his rifle pointed out the open window.
    Damn, he was hot. Lieutenant, huh? Marcus Pearson. Marc, maybe. With his dark hair cut short, he reminded her of an armed forces poster boy. His sunglasses were now buried in that hair, perched on his crown. He adjusted the black earpiece with connected microphone. The spiral cord disappeared down the collar of his shirt. A thick neck, muscular shoulders, arms that bulged with just the right amount of muscle and, holy hell…an ass that should be in Calvin Kline underwear ads. Mmm, Marc.
    “Echo three, in place. Target locked. Awaiting go-ahead.”
    Francotirador. A sniper. Good Lord. She might actually have to witness this man shoot another. Mari gasped, and the sound seemed loud in the utter stillness.
    “You might want to leave the room, ma’am.” The cop spoke in the same voice he’d used to communicate with his team, so she wasn’t completely sure he was talking to her until he continued. “Just stay away from the windows.”
    “I…okay…”
    “Echo three, affirmative. Position secured.”
    Mari backed against the hallway wall. She still had a good view of him through the door. Long moments passed. Mari’s breathing echoed in the hallway, and her heart thumped a heavy cadence. The megaphone below blared, but the sniper in her bedroom hadn’t moved one sinewy muscle. She wasn’t sure if he’d even blinked.
    Damn, the man was one giant hunk of sex. His face had that rugged masculinity that she found extremely appealing. He wasn’t one to cover a men’s fashion magazine. Nor would he fit the part as a boy band front man. This guy looked like he’d been in a few fistfights in his time. He had an imperfect shape to his nose, and the stern set to his lips made him look fearsome and deliciously sexy, which was odd, because she didn’t even prefer white guys. Or cops. There must be something seriously wrong with her if there was a bad deal going down in her backyard—bad enough to call in a sniper—and she could think only of the man’s sex appeal.
    Her hand was still clutching her robe to her breasts. The rapid rise and fall of her curves moved the satin across her nipples. A glance at her bed and Mari almost groaned. Atop the pillows stacked in the middle of the mattress lay Bob, pretty and pink as could be. She could almost see the indentation of her body in the rumpled sheets. She should be embarrassed. She should run into the room and hide the evidence, but instead her loins reacted in an entirely unexpected way. There was a hot as hell cop in her bedroom. Kneeling by her bed. With a gun. And testosterone oozing out of every pore, not two feet from where her sheets still held her body heat.
    Marcus still didn’t flinch. He was completely focused on his job. In an uncharacteristic and severely reckless move, Mari slipped her hand between the folds of her robe