When all eyes are on you, there’s nowhere to run…except the truth.

Behind Blue Eyes

© 2010 T.L. Schaefer

Crime-scene photographer Sara Covington hides behind her camera from the otherworldly ability that’s caused her nothing but grief her whole life. Yet denial doesn’t protect her when she runs across a serial killer with an aural signature she’s never encountered.

Suddenly she’s without a job and with nowhere to turn…except to an enigmatic, sexy-as-hell detective with a disquieting talent for seeing right through her defenses.

Brian Roney’s fascination with Sara compels him to bring her in on the case that ultimately gets her fired. Even though he senses her mutual attraction, something holds her back from stepping into his arms. He’s as determined to find out why she’s pushing him away as he is to keep her safe.

When the killer strikes again, Sara realizes the only way to stop the madman is come clean about her painful past—and embrace the gift she has so long denied. Before the grisly trail of bodies leads right to her doorstep.

Warning: A sexy alpha cop, a heroine with a past (and super spidey sense) and a maniac on the loose…what’s not to love?

Enjoy the following excerpt for Behind Blue Eyes:

With a weary sigh, Brian finally stood. “The uniform will stay right where he’s at until we know Burke has moved on to another city. It’s probably a waste of manpower, but we’ve got to be sure.”

I walked him to the door, admitting to myself he wasn’t going to make it over the threshold. My quotient for being scared was up, and I wanted Brian Roney…bad. Did I feel guilty about using him for my own satisfaction? Yeah, a bit, but I could guarantee he’d leave here smiling. So I took the step I’d been anticipating—and denying—since the day I met him.

He leaned in for a brief kiss, and I latched on with everything inside me. He let out a surprised grunt, then returned my passion, his tongue teasing mine as his hands grasped my hips and pulled me close.

I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him for all I was worth, running my fingers through the hair at his nape.

“Don’t send me home, Sara,” he breathed against my lips, moved down, caressed my cheek, then the underside of my jaw with tender, hot kisses.

“I’m not.” My breath hitched. My nipples pebbled against his strong, broad chest.

He drew back and searched my eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Damned straight.” I met his gaze as I moved a hand down, tracing the vee his shirt made.

And still he hesitated. Could I be so lucky? “Stop thinking so hard about it.” I brushed my lips across his before pulling back. “You’ve got condoms, right?”

He chuckled, back in his own happy space. “Let’s put it this way… I’ve had them in my pocket since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

My breath caught. A girl didn’t need much more than that, now did she?

I grinned and returned for a kiss…a repeat of the tease we’d shared far too often. He met me stroke for stroke, his tongue tangling with mine. The sensation lit a trail of fire that streaked across my body, bringing my nipples to an almost painful point, and low, sensual heat coiling in my core. This was going to be so very good.

I stood on my tiptoes so I could meet him mouth-to-mouth, unrestrained, and it was everything I’d remembered and fantasized about on the plane, in the hotel room. And yes, before that. He took my mouth wholly, as if kissing me could sustain him for the rest of his life. It was heady, and the moment I thought I had him pegged, he broke away and turned me so I couldn’t see him. He pulled me tight against him, and banded his arms around me from behind, his erection a long, hard promise of strength and pleasure against my back. His hands cupped my breasts, learning their weight and fullness. I melted against him, heart thumping in my chest, my breath coming in sharp little pants, and I lifted my arms, looping them around his neck, allowing him free access.

His thumbs brushed across my nipples, and I gasped as pleasure streaked through me, then his hands were moving, sliding beneath my blouse. He spanned my waist, fingers ducking beneath my waistband for a scant, teasing second before they drifted up to my breasts again.

I stopped breathing as his palms covered me and his mouth dropped to my nape, delivering tiny little nips that made me quiver, head to toe.

“The things I want to do to you aren’t legal in most states,” he breathed in my ear, his voice low, guttural. Completely, over-the-top sexy.

My body stiffened in reaction. In anticipation. No aura to overwhelm me, no reading what my partner was feeling in his gaze. This was going to be so good.

I spun in his arms and met his eyes, which had gone turbulent. “Yeah? I could say the same.” I grasped his hand, leading him to my bedroom.

It was the one room in my house he hadn’t seen, and I was proud of it, even if my brain was clouded by a desire so strong I was amazed I could see at all. It reflected the hidden me, decorated in scarlet and sage, eye-popping royal blue and creamy taupe. Since I’d come to Dallas, no other man had seen it; every other sexual liaison had been in neutral territory.

Would he even notice? Why the hell did I care?

But notice he did, standing stock-still in the doorway, his hands settling on my waist, pulling me back against him once again. “This is the real you, isn’t it?” He leaned in to lave my ear, sending thrills through my entire body. “It’s beautiful, just like you are. I imagine what you see when you look at the world. But know how I see you. You’re vibrant, a nexus of the colors that defies anything I could describe.” His hand rested possessively on my belly and his voice had gone gravelly. “And when you come, I imagine the expression on your face because I know you’ll be coming for me.”

He spun me around to face him, and the look on his face was anything but easy. It was predatory and utterly male. “Now strip. I want to see you naked.”

My breath clogged in my lungs at his audacity and how much it turned me on. How could he possibly know, I marveled, even as my body overruled rational thought. I’m a take-charge kind of girl when it comes to everything else, but in the bedroom, I want a man to lead, and somehow, some way, he’d intuited that. It’d taken me years to figure it out myself, yet he knew exactly how to play me in seconds. That knowledge made me impossibly hotter, wetter.

I locked gazes with him. Everything he made me feel was ours alone. No bombarding emotions, no aura to cloud my response, to anticipate his. My fingers shook as I pulled my blouse over my head, then loosened the clip at my nape.

He stood mere inches from me, eyes blazing as he watched each and every move I made.

My heart banged against my ribs. I stood in my bra and slacks, hair brushing against my shoulders, while he remained fully clothed, inspecting me.

“You’re even better than I imagined,” he breathed.

What he’d pictured, I couldn’t possibly conceive of until he began seducing me with his words. Not that he needed to.

“You’re lusher than I thought. You hide behind baggy T-shirts too often.” His hands settled on my hips. “You’re meant for tasting, for savoring all night long.” He dipped his head to my breasts. “But you don’t know that, do you, Sara?”

Any reply I might have made was completely annihilated by the sensation of his tongue on my lace-covered nipples. Instead I moaned. Not in surrender, but agreement.

His tongue flicked from one breast to another, his hands tightening against my hips until I was flush against him. He bowed me back as he loved my breasts, cradling me against his erection, rocking me gently until I thought I’d go insane. I began to fall into sensation and reached out blindly for something, anything to hold onto.

“Shhhh,” he murmured, his breath warm and hot against my breast. “I’ve got you, Sara. Remember that.” Then he was lifting me, settling me on the bed, his mouth still teasing my nipple even as his hands deftly unfastened my slacks, sliding them to the floor along with my panties.

His clever fingers teased my mons with feather-light touches as the pressure of his mouth increased and he applied his teeth. I jolted upward, into him, and felt him laugh against me.

“I knew you’d be like this, you know.” His voice was rough, needy, even though he was in complete control.

One big palm closed over my breast and squeezed as he dropped to his knees, his breath wafting in tiny little gusts along the inside of my thighs. His mouth covered me, tongue teasing me as one finger slid inside, then two, pumping in time to the delicious motion of his tongue.

I moaned, bowing on the bed as I grasped the bedspread in both fists as he devoured me. Pure, blinding fire flashed through me, setting every nerve ending ablaze, and I toppled.

Tender fingers unlatched my front-hook bra, and I jerked as his knuckles brushed across my nipples. Over the pounding of my heart and the rush in my head, I barely heard the rasp of his zipper, the crinkle of cellophane.

Then he was covering me, his mouth hot on mine, his big, wicked hands tilting my hips, and in one sleek move, he was inside me, sheathed to the hilt.