Darsh held his silence and just let her talk. Let her get all the ugliness out.
“So one beautiful September day he comes home after a shitty day at work, and he starts picking a fight. I knew it was going to be bad, but something inside me needed it to play out. He finds my cell and goes through my texts like some overprotective father. One of my buddies had sent me a heart smiley just as part of the conversation, harmless. It didn’t mean anything, but Graham lost it.” She shook her head, and he couldn’t resist sliding his fingers into the silken tresses of her hair, trying to soothe her agitation.
“He hit me again. Tried to force himself on me,”—good thing the fucker was dead—“but I didn’t hold back this time. I fought back with everything I had. He broke two of my ribs, but I’d upped my training with a martial arts instructor I’d been going to. I gave him as good as I got, and he wasn’t expecting that. I kicked his ass and when he was down, I ran out of that house faster than you can say ‘divorce proceedings.’ I got patched up by a doctor I knew from high school and went home to my parents.”
His fingers clenched against her waist, pulling her closer.
“He came around the next day with flowers and some made up story about our ‘little’ argument. But I’d told my parents the truth about what happened by then—he hadn’t expected me to do that. He’d expected me to be too ashamed to admit it, as if I’d done something wrong. My dad and my brothers were all there waiting for him in our little front room. Five badass cops with a personal grudge.” Humor touched the side of her mouth. “Let’s just say he was lucky to make it out of there alive, and he knew it. After that I started getting incessant messages about how he was sorry—like when I was in Quantico that night.” She’d gotten a dozen texts at four in the morning, which was how the subject of a husband had come up. “Then, when I was obviously not falling for it, the messages started saying if I didn’t come home to him he was going to kill himself.” There were tears is her voice. “And then he did.”
He hugged her close again. She felt good there tucked in beneath his chin. Like she belonged.
“So what was I?” he asked after a few moments of silence. “Some sort of declaration of independence?”
She laughed, but the way she clung to his shirt and refused to look up made something in his chest tighten. “That’s exactly what you were. I went to that bar determined to reclaim ownership of my life and my body. When you walked in…” She finally looked up and met his gaze. “Well, you know what happened next.”
She licked her lips, and his eyes tracked the movement. Three years ago he’d been blindsided by the beautiful blonde smiling at him in that bar. Now he knew the kind of person she was, hardworking, smart, dedicated. She blew his mind.
“This is why you connect so well with the victims, you know,” he said.
The shadows in her eyes flickered. “I don’t like being thought of as a victim.”
“You’re a survivor, not a victim. There’s a difference.” He brushed a finger across her cheek. Every particle in the room seemed to ionize and electrify.
“This is a really bad idea,” she said hoarsely.
“I don’t care if you don’t.” But he wasn’t taking any part of the decision-making process away from her. It was more than obvious he wanted her. The proof was pressed against her stomach and evident in the way he couldn’t leave her alone. He’d been circling her like a planet around its star since he’d arrived, and no matter he told himself it was about the case, that was a lie. And he wanted to get closer. Much closer. But he wasn’t going to pressure her in any way. As a woman who liked to walk away, it was important that she chose to come to him.
She leaned back in his arms, and he braced himself for disappointment. He wasn’t about to try and change her mind. Not today. Not after what she’d told him about the asshole she’d married. There were a million reasons for her to reject him and most of them made way more sense than acting on this ill-fated, ill-conceived attraction.
She slid her hands over his jaw and rubbed her thumb across his bottom lip. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
She nodded.
Green light.
He lifted her up and brought her eyes level with his. He wanted her mouth, those sweet lips. Wanted her naked in his arms. But he didn’t want to rush this. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he secured her in place with a hand on her ass and pressed her tight up against the wall.
“You’re sure about this?” He palmed her breast, and she arched up into his hand.
“Only if it’s as good as last time.” She sucked in a breath as he found her nipple unerringly through the fabric of her clothes and gently pinched the sensitive tip.
“Nothing could be as good as last time.”
“Then we better brace ourselves for disappointment. Or die trying.” She nibbled closer to his mouth. Small kisses getting nearer to his lips, but never quite hitting the mark. Driving him crazy with want.
Finally he captured her jaw in his hand and held her while he took her mouth. Her lips were warm, soft. She opened them slowly, making him work for a real taste of her. He ran his tongue around the inside of her bottom lip, and she groaned, pressing her center against his arousal. He sank deeper against her, searching her lips with his, stroking her tongue, taking it deeper, tasting the sweet essence that was all Erin Donovan.
And suddenly need burst through him like a supernova, and she felt it too.
Frantic fingers unbuttoned her shirt, and he pushed it off her shoulders, trapping her arms behind her back as she tried to get it off. The lacy white bra that had teased his senses all day looked incredible against pale smooth skin. He pulled the cup of her bra down to expose a rosy nipple. He plumped it between his fingers and sucked.
“You don’t play fair.” She moaned, gripping him tighter with her legs, still struggling with her cuffed sleeves.
“Why would I?” he asked honestly, enjoying the taste of her, unable to believe they were doing this again, and so far it was just as good as last time.
He noticed an even paler strip of skin. “Tan lines?” He ran his tongue over them.
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Let me know if you don’t like anything.” He smiled against her skin. “And I’ll stop.”
“I will.” Her fingers clutched at him. “But please don’t stop.”
He dragged the second cup of her bra aside and played with her other nipple, loving the way it hardened and glistened in the moonlight. So beautiful. He blew across the dampness and she trembled. So responsive.
He wrenched at the sleeves of her shirt until it fell away. She reached behind her for the clasp on her bra, and he dragged it from her body and tossed it to the floor. And there she was, half-naked in his arms.
“We’re taking this very, very slowly.”
“No.” She sank her fingers into his hair and kissed him open-mouthed, before breaking apart. “I don’t want slow. I want it hard and fast against the wall. Right.” She nipped his lower lip. “Now.”
Her words made him so aroused his hands shook, but who was he to argue with a woman who hadn’t had sex in three years? She slid her feet to the floor and reached for his belt, jerked the leather free. “You have protection?”
He swallowed and nodded.
Heat spread through his body as he watched her free him from his pants. The feel and sight of her small hands stroking him almost drove him over the edge. He found a condom in his wallet and handed it to her. He made short work of her pants, and she kicked them off, along with her socks, until she was standing there in only a pair of white lace thong panties. She went to slip them off, but he stopped her with a firm grip on her wrist. “Leave them on.”
He took the wrapper from her shaking fingers and covered himself. He was almost entirely dressed, but she leaned almost naked against the wall looking like the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
Her gaze held his, begging him to give her what she’d asked for.
He stepped closer, and she wrapped a leg around his waist. She was so tiny and so perfect. He knew she was resilient, but he didn’t want to hurt her. He moved her panties aside and slid a finger into her hot wet core. Then he lifted her up, and she wrapped both legs around him, and he buried himself so deep he went blind from pleasure.
He thrust inside, over and over, straining into her soft willing body, feeling her arousal grow, feeling her need burn through her natural reserve. This woman who hadn’t had sex in three years wanted it hard and fast against the wall. He almost grinned, but it was too much effort. Her fingernails bit into his neck, sweat making them both slippery, but he wouldn’t let her fall. He ground against her, lifting her higher and hitting the spot she needed until she cried out, muscles rippling around him, squeezing him tight.
He wanted to hold back. Wanted to treat her with reverence, but he was beyond slowing down. Her gaze met his. Urged him on. “Do it.”
Part of him wanted to curse her for reducing him to a rutting animal, but the expression on her face wasn’t sordid or dirty. It was lust and want and desire.
He held her steady and rammed into her, over and over, feeling her arousal build again, hearing her cries of passion as she crashed over the edge, and his climax exploded and blew out his brains even as she pulsed and spasmed around him.
After a few moments of being strung out following one of the best orgasms of his life, he rested his forehead against hers, his hammering heart slowly steadying.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, nuzzling her ear.
She laughed. “Gravity made a few adjustments over the last three years, but thank you for not noticing.”
“Gravity looks good on you. Thankfully it doesn’t affect guys in the same way.” He rocked his still hard cock inside her.
“Thank God,” she murmured, dragging his mouth back to hers with a tug on his hair.
He kissed her again, savoring the flavor of her, the heat of her flesh, the playfulness escaping her usually tightly controlled demeanor.
Truth was she looked better now than she had three years ago. She’d been skinnier back then—stress, he realized with new insight. Her curves were softer, sweeter. She ran her hands over his shirt and started loosening his tie. He was still wearing his suit jacket. The view of them still joined together made him want her again. In a bed this time. Slowly. Thoroughly. Lazily.
He eased out, lowered her carefully to her feet, and got rid of the condom. He fastened the button of his pants, forcing himself to slow things down, to savor and enjoy. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and let it fall to the ground. She undid the knot in his tie and drew it in a slow glide through his shirt collar. His skin buzzed where she touched him. She bit her lip as she undid the first button of his shirt, then the next.
Finally when they were all undone she smoothed her hands over his bare chest. She touched the bullet he wore around his neck. He usually took it off before a date, but he hadn’t exactly planned this encounter.
“Spare ammo?” she questioned. She made a joke, but there was curiosity in her eyes.
He captured her fingers and wrapped them around the warm metal. It was hard to put into words exactly what that talisman meant to him. “Old sniper superstition.”
“You weren’t wearing it last time.”
The fact she remembered proved that night had meant something to her. The fact that she hadn’t been with anyone since meant it was special.
“It’s a hog’s tooth,” he said.
“Hog’s what?” She frowned as she examined the 7.62 mm bullet.
“Acronym. You know how the military loves acronyms.”
“What’s it stand for?” She looked up at him between her lashes. The fact she was pretty much naked kept distracting his small brain.
This probably wasn’t the best time to remind her he was a bona fide trained killer. He hesitated, cleared his throat, wondering how she was going to react. “Hunter of Gunmen. It’s a tradition for those who graduate Scout Sniper School.”
Some women got excited by the idea of his having killed. Others were repulsed.
Erin looked somber, but not horrified. She carried a weapon too.
“You know that old saying about everyone having a bullet with their name on it? This is supposed to be mine.” He brought it quickly to his lips. It represented more than that to him, though he’d never admit it out loud. Hard work, brotherhood, sacrifice, and honor. “Helps us believe we’re invincible.”
Erin’s pupils widened as she looked up at him. “You were good at it, weren’t you?”
“For a while, but it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life.” His throat got tight. Ironic. Being a sniper was all about leaving emotion behind and becoming a killing machine.
Her touch lingered on the necklace for another moment, then she smoothed her palms over his chest. “I love your skin.” She pressed her lips above his nipple.
He cupped her breast. “I love your skin.”
“But you’re so smooth and hot.” She ran her fingers over his abs. “All these fine muscles I want to explore.”
He tweaked her nipple between thumb and forefinger just hard enough she gasped.
“And I like your hands,” she laughed.
He grinned. “Is that so?”
“Definitely.”
He lowered his mouth to her breasts again. Her nipples were ripe, sweet, succulent, like raspberries. The hollow of her collarbone was ridiculously appealing. He nibbled his way over her body, not sure which part he liked best. Body? Or brain?
“And I’m very fond of your mouth.” She leaned back against the wall, her hair falling like a cloud around her shoulders as he held her up. She looked at the ceiling and closed her eyes as he began making slow love to her body. She started to whimper, her fingers digging into his scalp. “I want you inside me again.”
He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress, and she swiveled in his lap, pressing him back against the cool cotton covers. Her hair brushed his skin and in an instant he was catapulted back three years to the first moment he’d seen her. She’d been the most beautiful girl he’d ever met. That hadn’t changed.
He moved them both farther up the mattress and reached for her, but she dodged him. “Not yet. I want to take it slow.”
“You’re going to destroy me.” He held her gaze. “And I’m going to beg for more.”
“That’s the intention.” She tugged on his pants, and he shifted his hips so she could remove them and his boxers. He toed off his socks so he lay completely naked on the bed, at her mercy.
She kissed his chest and played with his flat nipples. A sweat broke out on his brow. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to last if she put her lips on him, but damned if he wasn’t willing to give it a shot. By the time she’d kissed her way down his body he was trembling. The memories had faded compared to the reality, and those memories had kept him company on many a lonely night in anonymous hotel rooms.
The moment that hot mouth wrapped around him, he knew he was doomed. He started reciting windage and distance calculations in his head, trying to recall the Coriolis force at this latitude, easing away from her when she took him too close to the edge.
“Did I do something wrong?” Her lips curved into a wicked smile.
“You’re perfect. You should know that already.” He drew her up to lie beside him, tracing his fingers over the pale skin of her breasts, over the tanned skin of her arms. “I want to make the most of tonight.” He cupped her jaw again. Leaned forward until he could brush his lips over hers. “I’m glad I found you again. I’m sorry I was such a jerk last time.”
Her smile was sad. “I could have told you I’d served him with divorce papers.”
“Why didn’t you?” He tucked her hair behind her neck, absorbed in the play of light over her face.
“I guess giving you a reason to walk out on me made it easier to end things.”
“You let me believe the worst,�
� he admonished her.
“You said you were a Marine and I was still officially married. I was terrified you were going to get into trouble and it would be my fault.”
He winced. “I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I was supposed to be keeping a low profile for an undercover op—infiltrating Islamic terrorists.”
“Ah, that old ‘national security’ saw. Now I feel even more guilty.” She ran her hands over his body, clearly enjoying touching him. He let her explore even as he ached to bury himself inside her again. “I used you for sex,” she murmured. “I’m Catholic. Trust me, I’m still not over the guilt.”
“You used me for empowerment. And I’m all for female empowerment.” His fingers went to her panties, and he tugged the scant material down her legs. She kicked them off, and he pressed his hand over her mound, just touching her opening. “Use me again.”
He kissed her as she opened for him. He turned them so she straddled his body, and she pressed her core against his rigid flesh. He bit back a groan.
“Are you sure?” She was teasing him.
He grabbed her wrists as he stared up into those shadowed eyes. “I’m sure, baby. Take whatever you want. As much as you want. For as long as you want it.”
Chapter Sixteen
He stood in the shadows long after they’d disappeared from view. His palm pressed against the rough bark of the maple, using the tree to hold himself together as his life and plans unraveled. Her betrayal traveled through his bloodstream, pain resonating with every heartbeat.
To do that with another man in their home…she couldn’t have hurt him more if she’d taken a blade and stabbed him in the heart.
Nausea rolled inside his stomach, and he had to swallow repeatedly so he didn’t vomit.
He’d thought she was saving herself for him. After what she’d gone through with her husband he’d assumed she needed a long, slow, romantic courtship. Not to be fucked against the wall by a near-stranger.
Cold Hearted (Cold Justice Book 6) Page 19
