Wrecked

by Cynthia Eden

  “Knowing that she’s what?” Ana rose. “Like him? Like Murphy the Monster?”

  Because that was the name the press had given Sarah’s father. “Yes,” he said, nearly biting off the words.

  “She’s not like him. Sarah is nothing like him.” Ana stalked closer. Her eyes gleamed. “She’s a good person. She just had the shitty luck of having a psycho for a father.”

  His chest tightened. “Ana . . .” There’s something I need to say. Something I should tell you. Right the fuck now.

  “Sarah can help us. The guy on the phone—he’s targeting killers. She can build us a profile that we can use to track him down. Say the word, and I’ll contact LOST. When I left Atlanta, Sarah was working a case in Colorado, but I know she will help—”

  He shook his head. “The FBI has profilers already working on the case.”

  Her lips tightened. “You don’t have Sarah Jacobs.”

  No, no, they didn’t. He turned away from her and raked a hand through his hair. “Something isn’t right.”

  “Uh, yes, a killer is calling me. We’re in another no-tell motel and—”

  Cash shook his head. “I mean that I’m missing something.” Something that was nagging at him. The caller said Forrest didn’t escape. That the guy hadn’t escaped anything.

  “I know what you mean,” Ana said. The floor creaked beneath her feet as she moved closer to him. “Why did he say I can’t trust you?”

  Cash spun around. And—Ana was right there. Close enough to touch. To kiss.

  Keep your hands off her.

  But Ana had come back to him. He’d put her on the plane. He’d done the right thing.

  She’d come back. Now what in the hell was he supposed to do? His control was too thin with her. Always had been.

  He’d known about Ana Young for years. Growing up in Texas, he’d seen her photographs in the paper. Watched videos of her on TV.

  And he’d hated the pain she’d endured.

  His hand lifted and his fingers brushed across her silken cheek before cupping her delicate jaw.

  It was her eyes that had gotten to him. He’d been eighteen when he’d first looked up at the news and seen Ana’s dark gaze staring back at him. So much pain had been in her eyes. Pain and horror. He’d wanted to take all of that pain away.

  She’d been a stranger. Surrounded by cops. A survivor. And he’d been . . .

  Wrong. Wrong for her.

  “Cash?”

  Fate had brought her into his life again when she’d come parading Bernie Tate into the FBI field office. He’d looked up and once again, he’d gotten lost in Ana’s dark gaze. Only this time, her eyes had been different. No pain, only determination. Strength.

  Then she’d smiled at him and his whole world had shifted.

  Now she’s back again.

  “Either kiss me or talk to me, but do something.”

  He blinked. “You want me to kiss you?” No, he’d misheard. There was no way Ana had just said that to him. “Your rules. Hands off, remember? You said—”

  “Fine. I’ll do it.” She rose onto her toes. Her hands curled around his shoulders and she pulled him down toward her, and Ana’s lips—her sweet, sensual lips—took his.

  He stiffened when her mouth touched his. That thin control of his? It was shredding with every soft touch of her lips. When her tongue pressed to his mouth, when she gave that soft little moan . . .

  Ana, I tried to do the right thing.

  But he couldn’t hold back, not when the one woman he wanted more than any other was in his arms. When she was kissing him. When her body was against his . . .

  He locked his arms around her and pulled her closer. Still not close enough. He lifted Ana up, held her easily and pinned her against the nearest wall.

  She gave a light, husky laugh, one that slid over his body like a caress. “That’s what I was hoping for.” Desire filled her gaze. “Let go of that control. I don’t want it. I want you—every single bit of you. Wild and rough, no stopping. Just like before. That’s what I want.”

  When she’d left him before—after the one night that had changed everything for him—Cash had worried that he’d been too rough with her. But having Ana in his arms . . .

  He kissed her again. He thrust his tongue past her lips and savored her. She tasted so good. Sweet but rich . . . and the things that woman could do with her tongue.

  She’s starred in a hundred wet dreams since that night.

  If she had any idea just how obsessed he’d become, Ana wouldn’t be letting him touch her. She’d be sticking to her rules. She’d be getting the hell away from him.

  But he couldn’t let her go. Not again. He’d already tried that good-guy role before. Now, he was taking what he wanted. He was taking Ana.

  Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he loved that bite. Stinging and hard. He tore his mouth from hers and kissed his way down her neck. He knew just where to put his mouth on her, knew where to suck and lick and let her feel the faint edge of his teeth.

  She moaned and her body quaked against his.

  That’s right, Ana. I know exactly what you like. I remember everything.

  His cock shoved against the zipper of his jeans. He was fully erect, aching and hard for her. Cash wanted to drive deep and take them both to oblivion. He wanted to forget the damn case. Forget the past. Forget everything but the pleasure they could give to each other.

  Ana’s hands slid down his chest. Her touch seemed to singe him. For an instant, he worried that she was about to push him away. That she’d say she only wanted a kiss. Nothing more.

  He clawed for his control, ready to pull back—

  But her fingers went to his waistband. She fumbled with his belt.

  “Ana.” Her name ripped from him. “Be fucking sure.”

  Her long lashes lifted as she stared up at him. “How’s this for sure?” Her voice was pure sex. “I want you inside me, Cash. Right now.”

  Sonofa—

  He kept a tight grip on her as he whirled away from that wall.

  “Cash!”

  He carried her to the bed. Dropped her on the mattress then backed the hell up.

  She tossed back her hair. “That was . . . interesting.”

  He ditched his coat. Removed his holster. Then he stared at her. Stared and tried to think past the haze of lust that was about to blind him.

  Her eyes swept slowly over him. “Turn off the lights, Cash.”

  She’d done that before. When he’d had her in his bed, she’d made sure all of the lights were off. He’d been so frantic for her, insanely desperate, and that same desperation was already rising in him again but . . .

  Cash shook his head.

  She tensed. “Cash? You don’t want me?” Her expression had gone blank.

  He stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. “There’s something we should be clear about right now.”

  She was sitting up on the bed, hunching her shoulders.

  “I always want you. I look at you, and I get hard. That’s just a fact of life for me.”

  Her shoulders rolled back. She flashed him the slow smile that was like a punch to his gut. “Then just turn off—”

  “I’m seeing you this time, Ana. Every single inch of you. You were the one who did the exploring last time.” Her mouth had been all over him. That tongue . . . “This time, I get to call the shots.”

  For just a moment, her guarded expression changed. Fear flashed on her face, but was gone in the next instant. He leaned over her, putting his hands on either side of her body so that his palms sank down into the mattress. “I will know every single inch of you tonight, Ana.”

  “No.”

  A dull ringing filled his ears.

  Ana pushed her hand against his chest. “No, that’s not how it works.” Her expression was blank but her voice was tight.

  Afraid. Ana is afraid of me.

  He didn’t want that. Not ever.

  “I like the dark, Cash. I need it.” />
  No, she didn’t. He caught her right hand. Lifted it to his mouth and pressed a hot kiss to her wrist.

  “Don’t do this,” Ana said. “Don’t make me leave you.”

  His heart jerked in his chest. There hadn’t just been fear in Ana’s voice right then—there had been pain.

  He pressed another kiss to her wrist.

  “I have a lot of scars, Cash.”

  His heart wasn’t just jerking in his chest. It was breaking.

  “I get that—for some really weird-ass reason—some guys think the scar on my lip is sexy.”

  He remembered the dumbass who’d been dancing with her at the bar. Cash had overheard the guy talking about her scar and Ana’s shoulders had tensed at his words. Pain had flashed on her face, and he’d wanted to pound the jerk.

  “I know about your scars.” With an effort, he kept his voice gentle. His lust had to wait. In that moment, Ana needed his reassurance. “And I don’t give a damn about them.”

  Her dark eyes held his. “They aren’t pretty, Cash. I was sliced . . . Stabbed . . .” She swallowed. “Let’s just turn the lights off, okay?” Her voice was pleading. He’d never seen strong Ana plead for anything.

  And he never wanted her to plead again. “Do you always turn off the lights with your lovers?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes closed. “Ana, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He swallowed and opened his eyes, focusing on her again. “Your scars don’t matter to me. I want to kiss you, stroke every inch of you. I want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

  But Ana was shaking her head.

  The trust isn’t there. Not yet. Ana wants me, but not enough to lower this shield. Not enough to let me have her the way no other lover ever has.

  “Don’t make me leave,” Ana said again.

  And he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He lowered her hand back to the bed. Cash stood fully, then turned as he made his way to the light switch near the door. He hit the button, killing the overhead lights, but a faint glow still came from the lamp on the bedside, a glow that pooled around Ana.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He stalked toward that lamp. “One day,” he said, his voice low and deep, “you’ll let me have all of you. It won’t matter if the lights are on. It won’t matter if we’re out in broad daylight. You’ll want me so much that nothing will matter but being skin to skin.” His fingers curled around the switch on the lamp. “That’s a promise, Ana.”

  He plunged them into darkness.

  Cash heard the quick rasp of Ana’s breathing as she exhaled on a relieved sigh. He stood there a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A thin crack of light slipped through the old curtains that covered the window. Just a crack.

  The bed squeaked and he heard the rustle of clothing. Now that the darkness covered her, Ana was confident again.

  You don’t need to hide from me. Not ever.

  He stepped toward her, toward the bed. His hand reached out and he touched her shoulder. Bare now. She’d slipped off her shirt. His fingers slid over the soft curve and he felt the strap of her bra. “Just because it’s dark, that doesn’t mean I can’t explore you.” His finger eased beneath that strap and he pushed it down her arm. “It doesn’t mean I can’t learn every inch of your body.”

  “Cash . . .”

  “Stretch out on the bed, Ana.” His voice was firm. His hands were rock steady on her, and his dick—it wanted in her.

  But first, he would explore. He’d savor. He’d touch and taste until she was begging for him. And until he was lost without her.

  The bed groaned again as she slipped away from him. Cash ditched his shoes and his socks, but he kept his jeans on—the better to keep himself in check. His dick was locked behind the zipper, and he intended to enjoy her body.

  He climbed onto the bed with her. Ana had positioned herself so that she was centered on the mattress. When he touched her leg, he realized she’d removed her jeans. His fingers slid up her silken skin. She shivered. He felt that little tremble all the way through his body.

  Let’s see if I can make you do more than just shiver, my Ana.

  His fingers touched her panties. A soft scrap of silk. He wanted to rip those panties away and put his mouth on her. Would her sex be as sweet as her lips?

  Wait. Explore. Wait . . .

  His fingers feathered up her side. Raised skin told him that he’d just touched one of her scars. A scar that Ana was so determined to hide. His head bent and he pressed a kiss to that mark.

  “Cash . . . don’t . . .” She reached for him.

  He caught her wrist. Held it tight. And kissed the scar again.

  Her breath heaved out on a low gasp.

  He began to kiss his way toward her breasts. He let her hand go and . . .

  Felt raised skin, just beneath his lips. He kissed that mark, softly, carefully. This line was longer, slicing across her torso. His fingers caressed her. He moved up—

  Another scar. His eyes squeezed shut in the darkness. He wished that he could take her pain away. His hands were sliding over her, and he felt them all—the stab wounds were small lines, while the slices that had cut her beautiful body open were longer, stretching for several inches.

  “Now you see why I don’t like the light.” Her hands reached for him again. “Just stop, Cash. Let me touch you.”

  He caught her hands. Locked both of her wrists in his left hand and held her tight. “You are fucking perfect.” It was time she understood that.

  “Cash . . .”

  He pushed forward, sliding between her spread legs, shoving his cock against the entrance of her body even as he stretched her arms above her head, pushing them toward the old, scarred headboard. “Do you feel how much I want you?”

  “Y-yes . . .” His normally confident Ana was so different tonight, in the dark.

  “You. Are. Perfect.” He kissed her. A deep, hard kiss. One that left no doubt as to what he wanted.

  Her. All of her.

  “Keep your hands up here,” he ordered against her lips. “Don’t stop me.” Because he was just getting started. Slowly, his hand slipped away from her wrists.

  She didn’t move.

  Good.

  He took off her bra. Bent to kiss her breast and—

  A scar. Small, curving, right over her heart.

  I want to take all of her pain away.

  He kissed that scar.

  Her fingers fluttered over his shoulder. “Cash—”

  “Hands up, Ana.” His voice was thick.

  Her hands went back up.

  He kissed her nipple. Licked the tight peak. She gave the little gasp that he found sexy as all hell, so he licked her again. His hand reached for her other breast. He stroked it as he licked, wanting to push her past her fear and her embarrassment, wanting her to need him more than she needed anything else.

  Ana shouldn’t be self-conscious. Ana shouldn’t fear. Ana should just desire.

  Her hips arched against him, a telling movement that was exactly what he wanted. He sucked her harder, loving the way her body responded to his.

  Then his hand eased down her body. He kept kissing her breast even as his fingers went between her thighs. He stroked her through the silk, tracing lightly over her sex.

  The silk grew damp.

  He slid down her body. Locked his hands on her thighs and pushed them even farther apart. Then he put his mouth on her, right through the silk.

  She jerked at the touch, but her hands didn’t come down.

  He enjoyed her for a time that way, kissing and caressing her through the silk. But soon, he wanted more.

  His fingers were rougher than he intended, and he heard the silk tear. “Buy you more,” he promised. Then his mouth touched her sex.

  He’d wondered if she would be sweet.

  She was so much better than sweet. One lick, one taste, and Cash knew he was a goner. He meant to be gentle, but soon he was feasting on he
r. Licking and taking, thrusting his tongue against her, into her, and rubbing her clit.

  Her hips were arching fast against him now, her body going bow tight. Ana’s orgasm was close, and he wanted her to go over that edge. “Do it, Ana,” he urged. His tongue thrust inside of her. “Let go.” Don’t hold back. Give everything to me.

  His thumb rubbed over her clit, harder, rougher, and then he was licking her, not able to stop, desperate to taste her pleasure as—

  She came.

  Her cry was muffled, as if she’d tried to bite the sound back, but her body was shuddering and he knew her climax was sweeping over her. Hell, yes.

  He savored her a moment longer and she gave another ragged moan.

  That moan was it—can’t wait any longer.

  He stripped off his jeans as fast as he could. Cash yanked out his wallet. Grabbed for the condom there and he had his cock covered in less than two seconds’ time. Then he was back at the entrance to Ana’s body. The head of his dick pushed into her and her hands—

  She was reaching for him now. He slammed balls deep into Ana and she pulled him close. Their mouths met, frantic, desperate, and he rolled them on that bed. Ana sat on top of him, straddling him as his fingers locked on her hips.

  The thin stream of light fell onto her body.

  He urged her up, then down, and Ana moved quickly. He could still feel the contractions of her release, squeezing his cock and driving him wild. His hips arched off the bed as he slammed into her. He couldn’t get in Ana deep enough. Couldn’t fuck her hard enough. Couldn’t give her enough pleasure.

  “Cash!” A sharp cry from her, and, hell, yes, she was coming again.

  Her orgasm brought on his release. He drove up into her one more time, and the pleasure blasted him, shooting through every nerve and vein in his body. Stars fucking danced behind his eyes, his heartbeat thundered, and he held on to Ana so tightly he was afraid that he was bruising her.

  Let go. Let go! That was the small, sane part of his brain screaming at him.

  Never. That was his lust, roaring right back.

  Ana collapsed onto him. His arms curled around her shoulders and he held her there, her body arching over his, her legs on either side of his hips, his cock still buried in her body. The thunder of his heartbeat slowed, became a distant drumming.