“All the other pieces of me that hadn’t fallen for you yet? They all just crumbled. I’m completely and totally in love with you.”
Tears gathered in her eyes, shimmering like sunlight on the Caribbean. Holding her face in place, I closed the distance between us, my nose brushing against her cheek first.
Her breath caught, but she didn’t push me away and I held still, giving her ample time to do it.
Granted permission, I brushed my lips over her cheek, slowly, lovingly kissing all the burns, all the scars... all the pain.
Yes, the texture was uneven against my lips, and yes, when I kissed the raised scar in the center of her brow, my heart ached a little for everything she’d been through... but that wasn’t what I focused on.
It wasn’t what I wanted her to focus on.
I made love her to face, to her old injuries and the pain they still caused. I tried to soothe away any insecurity she felt by letting me this close. I wanted her to know that even though the skin was damaged, it could still feel my lips, it was still worthy of caress.
When the flavor of salt passed over my tongue, I pulled back, blinking down at her with half-closed eyes.
She was crying.
Silent tears leaked from her eyes, sliding down the sides of her face and dripping onto the bed.
“Do you want me to stop?” I whispered.
She shook her head.
“Can you feel it now?” I asked her. “How much I love you?”
Another tear slipped free, I leaned down and licked it away.
“I think I can,” she confessed.
“Do you want more?”
She nodded.
There was no hesitation in Nick Preston. Not a single, solitary drop. The confidence in which he touched me, the sincerity in his gaze, left no room for doubt.
In eight years, no one had even come close to this.
In eight years, no one even tried.
Until him.
Until now.
Right now in this bed, under the dim light of the lamp, I wasn’t a beast and he wasn’t a beauty. Though, he was beautiful. There would never be anyone as beautiful as him.
I wasn’t a woman with scars and a missing limb. I didn’t live in hiding, and my heart wasn’t walled off by grief. He wasn’t a celebrity adored by everyone, royalty that could have anything and anyone he wanted.
This room wasn’t crowded by jealous fans, bitter rivals, or people wanting to pull us apart.
I was a girl. He was a boy.
Our hearts beat in sync, and our bodies melted into one.
His breath was hot against my skin, his lips smooth and damp. Every stroke of his tongue made me cry out, and the way his wide frame blocked out the entire world above me offered peace I’d truly never felt before.
When he pushed away, I grabbed to pull him back. His eyes were darker than usual, his face flushed with desire. Instead of pulling him down, I allowed him to pull me up, tugging off the tank top as I sat up.
Air brushed over my sensitive breasts, my nipples already puckered. He kissed me again before climbing off my lap and moving around behind me, positioning me so I was sitting between his spread legs.
Goose bumps rose along my arms when he brushed the ponytail out of the way, fastening his lips on my shoulder. Suckling his way down, he kissed over the back of my arm... over the scars marring the skin. I tensed for the first time when he drew close to the brand, unsure how I would feel if he touched the mark that sicko forced me to wear.
Again, Nick didn’t hesitate, as if he didn’t give a flying fuck some other man branded me, some other man tried to claim me as his.
The thickness of his tongue licked over it, as if it wasn’t the mark of a psycho, but a dessert he couldn’t wait to eat.
I gasped, feeling the dampness of his tongue, the texture of it rubbing over that stain.
Curling his hands around my shoulders, he did it again, and literally everything inside me loosened.
Moaning, I reached around, burying my fingers in his hair as he kissed and sucked across my back, going up to use his teeth on the back of my neck.
My body rocked impatiently, moving against him, feeling his erection against my lower back.
Oh, he was good. So good.
I’d gone from timid and unsure to writhing against him, practically begging for me.
Wrapping an arm around me from behind, he pulled me down, slipping around and pulling off the rest of my clothes.
His body looked like a masterpiece created by a sculptor, not a flesh-and-blood man. The definition of his chest made my hands itch to run over it, and the way his abs rippled all the way down beneath the waistband of his shorts gave me a dry mouth.
Emboldened by the fiery look in his eyes, I reached up, grasping the white string on the front of his shorts, and tugged. His pants sagged, revealing that V-shape muscle that was kryptonite for everyone with ovaries.
“You sure?” he asked, even though his chest was heaving, even though his pupils were dilated and the cock under his shorts was straining to get free.
“I’m sure.”
Diving on me again, his mouth devoured mine, and the cock I’d been ogling seconds before pushed against my drenched center, making me moan.
While I tugged at his waistband, an impatient sound ripped from my throat as he kissed over my collarbone.
Chuckling, he leaned up, reaching into his nightstand and coming back with a row of condoms.
I arched a brow at the amount in his grip, and he offered a roguish grin. “I told you I’m a horny bastard.”
Tossing them down, he pulled his pants free, finally revealing the part of him I’d only felt and not yet seen.
It was beautiful. Did you expect anything less? Rising out of a neat patch of golden hair, skin smooth and shiny, head swollen and thick.
He reached for the condom, and my teeth sank into my lower lip.
Sensing a change, he glanced up, pausing as he rolled on the protection. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed.
“I’ll stop.”
I caught his hand before he could pull off the rubber, stroking his fingers with a reassuring hand. “I want to.” I promised. “I just... It’s been eight years.”
A slow smile spread over his face, lighting up his eyes. “Really?”
“Like you didn’t know,” I muttered.
Finished with his task, our bodies brushed together, my legs automatically opening to accept him.
Brushing my hair away from my face, he gazed down with loving eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared at me... his eyes saying so much without him whispering a word.
“I’ll take care of you, angel.”
All the nerves blew away, and my hand curled around his back.
Our lips fused the moment he pushed into my body. A sound ripped from my throat, but he caught it, swallowing it down. I felt his arms and legs shake as he held himself still, allowing my body time to adjust to his size.
Tugging my lips free, I kissed his shoulder, and he started to move.
Sensation after sensation rocked my body. Currents of pleasure shot like lightning beneath my skin. He moved with care but with strength, and my body succumbed to his completely.
Nick had earned my trust, knowing exactly when to hold back and now knowing exactly when to push. All the fear and stress fell away. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I was present solely in the moment, feeling nothing but the way he filled me.
There was nothing more precious than what he was giving to me, and though I didn’t say the words, my heart whispered, I love you, over and over.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked, delighting my heart.
I was beginning to think this woman could do no wrong.
“Taking a shower,” I replied mildly as the sheets covering her fine, naked body slowly stripped away.
“Then why are you yanking me out of bed?” she asked, covering her naked chest with her arms.
A laugh rumbled out of me. “It’s a little late to be covering that now, sweetheart. I’ve already seen it.”
She smacked me.
I liked it.
Reaching into the shower, I turned on the sprays, stepping back out with her still in my arms.
“Nick!” she demanded.
Her hair was half out of the ponytail it had been in last night, and the strands were all wild about her head. Her blue eyes were fuzzy from sleep, and she had whisker burns on her cheeks from me.
"Guess I need to shave," I said, frowning at the marks.
“Huh?”
Gently kissing the rash, I stepped into the shower, backing in so the water didn’t hit her all at once.
“All my stuff is in the other shower!”
“Use mine.” I shrugged. Leaning into her ear, I whispered, “So you’ll smell like me all day.”
She made a rude sound, but the corners of her lips turned up.
“From now on, you will shower with me,” I declared, setting her down but anchoring an arm around her waist.
“And why is that?”
“I’ve been a bad boyfriend. I should have fixed the shower right away. So I’ll help you until the problem is rectified.”
“B-boyfriend!” she exclaimed. “Who said you were my boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend or husband, angel. Pick one.”
“What?” The shock on her face was pretty enjoyable.
Ah, I was in a good mood today.
“Boyfriend it is.” I agreed.
“You can’t just declare something like that.”
“Rinse your hair,” I said, turning her into the spray.
She gave me a dirty look, but she started rinsing her hair. Popping the top on the shampoo, I held it out for her. “You don’t want to be my girlfriend?”
“I didn’t say that.” She hedged, soaping up her head.
“What would the press say if they knew I was denied by a woman?”
“I didn’t deny you,” she insisted.
Reaching around, I patted her bare ass. “Be a good girlfriend and give me a kiss.”
Her eyes narrowed. I kissed her anyway. She kissed me back.
That meant she agreed.
Conditioner in her hair, I was washing her body when she said, “My future isn’t certain.”
As I lowered the loofah, suds dripped down my fingers, landing on the shower floor. “What?”
She spun in the circle of my arm, lifting somber blue eyes. “I can’t be your girlfriend because I might not be here much longer.” In a much quieter voice, she added, “He’s coming for me.”
The loofah hit the wall with a loud smack. Suds splattered everything, including us. Grabbing her shoulders, I yanked her back to glare down at her.
“You’re saying you can’t be mine because you’re already his?”
Her eyes widened. “N-n-no, I—”
“We’re going to get one thing straight right here, right now.” I fumed. Water from the multiple showerheads and wall-mounted jets sprayed around us. The waterfall from the ceiling rained over our heads, and I brought us backward to pin her against the wall.
“That animal has no claim on you whatsoever. No hold on your life... no right to your death. You saying you won’t be mine because he’s coming for you is bullshit! I know you’re scared. Fuck, I am too. But that’s not going to stop me from holding on to you, loving you.”
Her chin wobbled. Under my hold, she trembled. “What happens if he kills me?” She burst out, a sob ripping from her throat. “It would have been better to not have me at all. Then you wouldn’t have to lose me.”
Her words pierced my heart. The thought of her suddenly disappearing from my life was so awful my chest ached.
I pulled her close, pressing my cheek against her head, cradling her in my arms. “It’s too late for that, angel. Girlfriend or not, you’re already mine. Mine. Not his.” That sicko thinking he had some claim on her made me want to kill. Pulling her back, I stared intently. “I won’t let him hurt you. Your future is not uncertain. It’s here with me.”
“I’m so afraid you’re going to get hurt,” she confessed, the words rushing out and full of despair. “What if something happens to you? What if he takes you away from me?”
Ahh. Here it was. The real issue. Zoey wasn’t afraid that I might lose her. She was afraid that she was going to lose me.
She couldn’t say I love you. She couldn’t put a label on our relationship. She was afraid if she did, it would all be taken away. Like her entire life ended seven years ago.
She’d lost everything, even her own identity. Frankly, it was a miracle she’d opened up to me this much.
Sliding my hands beneath her arms, I lifted. Automatically, her legs wound around my waist. Pinning her against the wall with my body, I brushed the wet hair from her face.
The anguish in her eyes shackled me like armor. There was nothing in this world that could protect me better than the love of this woman, knowing just how devastated she would be if I was suddenly gone. Her fear made me strong. Strong enough to fight everything—even her demons—so I could remain at her side.
Kissing the corner of her mouth, I whispered that I loved her. “You can love me, angel. You can think about next week, next month, even next year. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. You’re stuck with me now, and no one, not even that deranged psychopath, will keep us apart.”
“You don’t know that,” she whispered, cuddling into my shoulder.
“I do know. I’ve known from the minute I first laid eyes on you that we’re connected. It’s the kind of connection that’s strong enough to keep both our hearts beating.”
“Nick,” she whispered.
“We’re going to meet with the cops in a bit. We’re going to find Callie and put that animal in a cage. And then you and me... we’re going to have a long, happy life.”
“I don’t know how you do it. But you make me feel strong.”
“You are strong.”
“I’m not used to... having someone.”
Most of the thunder churning inside me quieted. The calm in her eyes was greater than the panic, and for her to admit she “had someone” was something I considered a win. “You have time to get used to it. All the time you need.”
She nodded, going back in to hug me fiercely.
“So,” I said, injecting some playfulness back into my tone. “You gonna wash my back?”
She laughed. “Get me the soap.”
“So bossy,” I murmured, pulling away.
When I turned to give her my back, I felt the mask I used to cover my dark mood fall away. As her hands slid over my skin, I made a silent promise to myself.
That psychopath took my grandmother... There was no way in hell I’d let him take anyone else I loved.
It was surreal.
I went from a shower with the sexiest man alive to a meeting with the police about the serial killer who was after me, and now I was supposed go to the set like it was just some ordinary workday and everything wasn’t burning down around me.
Wait.
That fire analogy was in really poor taste.
Standing in the window, I watched the detectives’ unmarked car head down the long driveway toward the gate guarding Nick’s property.
Callie.
Thoughts of Nick’s assistant plagued me, creating a sense of urgency beneath my skin and tightness in my chest. The meeting with the police left me with lackluster confidence they would be able to find her. Callie’s whereabouts were still unknown, and the more minutes that passed, the more anxious I became because I—above anyone else—knew exactly what she could be suffering through. The longer that monster had her, the worse it would be.
I didn’t want Callie to end up like me. Or worse... dead.
Guilt overwhelmed me, adding another layer to the panic threatening to bring me down. While she was out there frightened and held captive, I’d spent the night in Nick’s arms, grab
bing hold of something I truly wanted but never allowed myself to have.
I knew it was wrong, but I was weak to Nick. To the way he made me feel.
Meeting him changed everything for me. In such a short time, he shattered the wall I kept around my heart, bulldozed in, and took control.
I felt stronger. More confident. Alive.
Funny, it wasn’t staring into the face of death that made me feel alive. It was staring into Nick’s eyes.
It was love.
If I lost that, if I lost him, then The Moth wouldn’t have to kill me because I’d already be walking around lifeless.
It was selfish, though. I couldn’t sacrifice Callie so I could have happiness. I wouldn’t truly have happiness anyway if it was at the expense of someone else.
The Moth took Callie because of me, and it was me who was going to get her back.
The cops were still piecing together all the evidence, all the information we’d dumped on them since yesterday. This morning added even more to get through. The possibility that the man who’d killed Deborah Ascott was also the Bloodlust Killer, aka The Moth, was a lot to digest. It would take time to build a case, to put together evidence and clues.
Callie didn’t have time.
And honestly, neither did I. He was coming for me. The note he left was proof. The Moth wasn’t the kind of man who would sit back and wait. He’d been playing with me too long.
I knew him better than anyone else because I was literally the only person to ever meet him and live.
This was up to me.
Callie’s life, my life, even Nick’s life and his grandmother’s justice all rested in my hands.
Where could he be? Think!
Something brushed against my side, making me jump. I would have fallen into the window if Nick’s arm didn’t pull me back.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized against my ear. I liked the way his hand rubbed soothingly against my waist, punctuating the apology.
Remnants from the way he made me feel last night poured over me, excitement mixing with the panic already tumbling around.
Overwhelmed with emotions, I turned in his arm, his other one slipping around me as well. Burrowing close, I cuddled against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent.
Moth to a Flame Page 28
