CHAPTER
31
After Zara cooked blackened salmon for dinner, Heath finished checking the sensors one last time. There wasn’t anything else to do but wait.
He hated waiting.
Ryker and Zara then headed to bed for a few hours of sleep before things heated up, while Denver jogged around the perimeter to make sure everything was still in place. Cameras, sensors, and escape vehicles. Anya had gone upstairs to continue reading her files.
The picture of them in the paper should’ve pushed the killer hard—but the timeline of her leaving town . . . Well, now. That set a deadline.
The itch between Heath’s shoulder blades wouldn’t ease. As always, instinct ruled. Something or somebody was coming. Either that or he’d keyed himself up so much that he was losing his edge. Considering all he could think about was the woman upstairs preparing herself to be hunted by a killer, that was entirely possible.
Denver shoved the door open and shook his hair. Snow went flying. “FBI and local cops are staking out the business.”
“I figured.” Heath frowned. “Have we made it too hard for the guy to get inside?”
“No. He likes a challenge.” Denver locked the door and moved past the reception area. “My guess is he’ll make a move early tomorrow morning. When we’re strung tight and tired of waiting.”
“We’re missing something.” Heath moved to the window and stared into the darkness outside. He could sense the cops out there. “I don’t know what it is, but I feel it. We’re missing something.” Maybe he should’ve put Anya and Zara in the hidden headquarters with Ryker as guard. But the killer would’ve seen them leaving the building. This was a good plan. It had to be.
“Stop second-guessing. The plan is good,” Denver echoed.
Heath looked at the stairs.
“Go calm her down. She was nervous as a cat facing a squirt gun earlier.” Denver sat at his computer.
Heath swallowed. “I know. Make sure you pretend to head to bed by midnight just in case the killer is ready to roll.”
“Yep.”
Heath strode for the stairs and quickly entered the sprawling apartment to listen. Heartbeats in the other room, Ryker’s low murmur, Zara’s laugh. The electromagnetic buzzing from sensors surrounded him, and he mentally checked their frequency. Perfect.
He flexed and relaxed his hands several times before crossing the living area to Anya’s bedroom. His bedroom, too. He knocked and waited for her call to enter.
She sat on the bed, her glorious hair pulled up and her face freshly scrubbed. In her yoga pants and Wonder Woman T-shirt, she looked fresh and innocent. Fragile. The bed spread in every direction, way too big for her, making her seem even smaller. She looked up and shut the file she was reading. Her lips were a white line, and stress had drawn dark circles under her pretty eyes. “The wait is killing me.”
Bile rose in his throat at her terminology. If anything happened to her, he wouldn’t be able to breathe ever again. “Do you understand the plan?”
“Yep. Zara and I wait in her reinforced room. You guard the door while Ryker and Denver position themselves downstairs. You gave me that Lady Smith & Wesson, and Zara has a Sig. Cool-looking gun, by the way.” Even though her tone was light, her eyes were dark. Fear. There was definite fear glowing in those green orbs.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Anya.” As a vow, he meant it to his soul.
“I know,” she whispered. “Just don’t let anything happen to you either. I couldn’t stand that.” Her eyes glowed a soft green in the dim light. So sweet and pretty.
Ah man. She just reached right in and grabbed his heart. “Okay.”
She swallowed. “Listen, Heath. I know we haven’t been together long, but I want to say thank you.”
He leaned against the door and tucked his thumbs into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. He needed to hold her. Tight. “For what?”
She lifted a small shoulder. “Everything, I guess. For not treating me like some weak woman who could never stand on her own two feet and for letting me be a part of this op.”
Heath breathed out slowly. “You’re the brains here, baby. The one with the degree and knowledge.” He stretched his neck. “But you’re human and very fragile.” She couldn’t argue that one with him. Her very bones were small and easily breakable. Especially for somebody much larger than she was—which the killer certainly had to be.
“I’m strong enough to do this.”
Yeah, she was. But it still wasn’t right. “You’re made for the white picket fence and PTA, sweetheart.”
She rolled her eyes and glanced at the silver gun on the nightstand. “I don’t think so. In fact, after this, I think I might go into the field. Use my degree for profiling—not just teach about it.” Slowly she tilted her head to the side and studied him this time. “We’re ready for him, right?”
He gave her assurances he didn’t really have. “Definitely. Plus, we have traps in place that we’ll remove at midnight. No way can he get in here until we’re ready.”
She smiled and batted her eyes. “It looks like we have a few more hours together, Heath Jones. What do you suppose we do with those precious minutes?”
Cute. Definitely cute. Her words licked along him and danced around his dick. “We should probably focus.” His voice came out painfully hoarse. Or they could get lost for a few minutes and forget the danger stalking them. He fully understood her need to escape reality for a few moments.
“The security is still on, and Denver is downstairs.” She smiled, a siren’s dare. Tossing the folders onto the table, she stood and moved toward him. “Why don’t we focus on each other?”
The blood rushed south of his brain. Way south. She’d never played the temptress with him, and he had to force himself to keep still. “I appreciate the thought, but maybe we should celebrate tomorrow.” If they lived.
She reached him and slid both palms up his chest. “I want to live tonight.”
His mouth watered as she read his mind. “Living is good,” he agreed, like a hungry puppy. Then he shook his head. “Honey, I really need to be on edge tonight.”
“Oh, you’re on edge.” She caressed down and cupped him through his jeans.
His knees almost gave out. His muscles started undulating on their own, every instinct in his body clamoring for him to take her to the ground. His cock pulsed against her palm as if trying to get to her. Now.
Okay. Calm. He could be calm and gentle.
Yet the stress around him, the tension inside him, clenched his hands into fists. “Anya? Baby? This probably ain’t a good idea.”
Her eyes flared, and her hold tightened.
God. He sucked his stomach in. All right. Focus. Reining in control with everything he had, he slowly lifted his hands to her hair. One pinch of the clip, and the colorful waves cascaded down in a fluff of strawberry scent. He inhaled sharply, taking as much of her in as he could.
Gently he cupped the back of her head and leaned in to brush his mouth over hers. She sighed and opened to him, welcoming him.
His body hitched, while his heart rolled. Without a doubt, he’d never again meet a woman like her. He’d never thought to find somebody who belonged next to him, who felt right. Oh, their timing sucked, that was for sure. But he’d take this night. Before everything went to shit again, he’d take this night.
His way. He’d protect her, and he’d keep her whole. No bruises this time.
Yet as she stroked him through his pants, the primitive male at his core bucked, wanting to meet her challenge.
God help them both.
Anya could feel his body vibrate, his cut muscles hold themselves in check as he tried to be gentle. She didn’t want gentle. Not in the slightest.
Kissing him harder, she stroked him beneath his pants, hard and fast.
He grasped her wrist, and she murmured a protest into his mouth. She needed her hands on him. If their plan worked, this might be their last night together.
; She wanted all of him, and she’d get it. Gathering courage, pretending she was some sort of femme fatale, she pushed away from him. Well, she did have a gun. That made her somewhat dangerous.
He leaned back against the door, his nostrils flared, his lids heavy over glittering eyes.
She swallowed and took another step back. To maintain control. Not to get out of his reach. Nope. Her chest heaved with her breaths, and her nerves zipped lines through her skin while her knees trembled. Now she knew what a trapped rabbit felt like. The way he looked at her . . . like he could eat her whole.
She was brave, and she could handle him. Gone was the woman who’d let anybody treat her like less than she was. While Heath was trying to protect her, he still wasn’t seeing her strength. It was time to show him she was enough for him. More than enough. Keeping his gaze, she grasped her T-shirt and slowly drew the soft material over her head.
Did he groan? She thought she heard a slight sound.
Gaining courage from that, she slipped her thumbs into her pants and shimmied out of them. Her lace panties went with them, leaving her nude.
Yep. Definitely a groan that time.
She smiled. “So—”
He was on her. Faster than any wolf, he had her up and then on her back on the bed, legs over his shoulders. The first touch of his mouth on her sex wasn’t gentle. Not even close.
Oh God.
His broad shoulders kept her thighs apart, and his fingers did magical things along her labia.
She arched into him, her mind fuzzing. Wait a minute. Hadn’t she been in control? She lifted her head to protest, and he swirled his tongue around her clitoris. Ecstasy sparked through her, and she fell back down. She could control the situation . . . in a minute.
He chuckled against her sex.
She cried out, pushing toward him. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Need burst inside her, clawing with hunger. Only for him. “Heath,” she moaned.
He settled and went at her with teeth, tongue, and fingers. As her need built, as she writhed against him, she could almost feel him becoming calm and more in control. But she couldn’t stop him at the moment. He sucked hard on her thigh, no doubt leaving a mark. His mark. The thought sent her spiraling a second before his tongue lashed her clit again, throwing her into an orgasm so wild she could only gasp and hang on.
She came down, her body still on fire for him. She rose up onto her elbows, feeling almost drunk. “Nice start.”
He stood, need etched into the lines on his face. Trapping her in place with his gaze, he drew off his shirt.
Man, he was beautiful. The scars only enhanced his wild masculinity.
His jeans hit the floor next, and his penis sprang free. Whoa. She hadn’t been imagining his size. He moved toward her, and she swallowed, holding up a hand.
He paused, his head cocking slightly to the left.
She got the feeling, the very strong feeling, that if she ran, he’d chase her down. That alone gave her the courage she wanted desperately. “No holding back, Heath.”
His brows drew down as if her words were unclear.
“Did you hear me?” Her voice was way too breathy, but she couldn’t control it.
He leaned over and ran his big palms down her legs. “I won’t hurt you, Anya.”
“I know.” She settled her hands over his and squeezed. “But you don’t have to hold back. I want all of you tonight.”
He studied her, and she fought the urge to fidget. “You want me to fuck you.”
The crassness turned her on. She drew in air, more than sensing the edge he rode. Yeah. The atmosphere around them swelled like the quiet before a storm broke. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
She stilled, instinctively knowing the words would have power—and not only for her. “I want you to fuck me.” Her voice was low but strong.
If she thought he’d just pounce, she was wrong.
In fact, he straightened up and walked, all grace, to the nightstand. “Then you’re wearing this while I do.” He held the pretty green ring.
Vulnerability whispered through her. She held out her hand, and he slipped the ring on, his gaze keeping hers. It felt like more than a piece of jewelry. It was a claim . . . and a promise. For the moment, she let those become her reality. God, it felt good. Real and strong.
By the flaring of his nostrils, he knew it, too.
She had to regain control somehow. Surprising herself, she flipped her legs around and rolled to the other side of the bed to stand. Anticipation and warmth burst in her chest.
His chin lowered. “What are you doing?”
Was that a tremble in his voice? She smirked, adrenaline flooding her system. “You want me? I think you need to catch me.”
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Enough, Anya. Come back here.” No tremble—just raw gravel.
Ah, the warning. Sure, he gave the order as a command, but it was said as a warning. One she had no intention of heeding. “No.”
He moved.
She jumped out of the way, scrambling across the bed. He caught her with one arm around her waist and threw her down, face first.
Yelping, partially laughing, she struggled against him.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her onto all fours.
She tossed her head, and her hair fell down her back. A condom wrapper crinkled. She started to move forward, and he yanked her back against him. She had one second to appreciate him at her core, and then he shoved inside her so hard she nearly exploded in raw pleasure.
Pain and pleasure rippled through her in unison, and she arched her back from devastating sensations. He filled her completely.
Then he was over her back, his mouth at her ear, his hand along her neck, forcing her head up. “You wanted this,” he whispered, his voice dark and deep.
She shivered in his absolute hold. Her back was to his heated front. “Then give it to me.”’
His hand slid down, his palm flattened over her collarbone with a thumb and a finger on either side of her neck. The strength in that one hand should’ve given her pause. Yet it was way too late to stop. She clenched her internal muscles.
The sound he gave was more of a growl than a moan. He tightened his hold, pulled out, and shoved back in, using his hand to keep her upright. “Ah, baby. You’re feeling so brave.”
“Yep.” She tried to sound flippant, but her voice was breathy with need. When he moved like that, he touched every nerve that existed inside her. Twice. She wanted to lower her head, but his hand prevented that, leaving her back elongated and her body slightly off balance.
“Hmm.” His free hand tweaked a nipple—not gently—and then he tapped down her abdomen.
Her eyes widened. “I—” She dissolved into a gasp as he plucked her clit. Sensations bombarded her—too many all at once. She bucked against him.
And he kept her perfectly in place.
She started to protest, and his hold around her neck tightened just enough for her to realize her position. Even her air depended on him. The thought should scare her, but mini explosions rocked her core.
“I see you’re getting it.” His warm breath brushed her ear right before he bit down on her lobe.
She gasped again, leaning into him, wanting more. He was everywhere, and she couldn’t think. So she just stopped thinking to feel, relaxing into his hold.
“There you go,” he rumbled, kissing her ear.
Holding her tight, not letting her move, he started to thrust. Deep and hard, keeping her back arched, he pounded into her. The first orgasm barreled through her, and she shut her eyes, crying out his name.
Yet he didn’t stop. If anything, he hammered harder, taking her, taking everything. Sparks uncoiled inside her. Heat flashed through her, driving her high, so close to the edge of a cliff. Need cut sharp. She opened her eyes, not understanding. Minutes passed, maybe hours, and he slid his fingers against her clit again. She gyrated against him, holding her breath, detonating into a million pieces
.
With a garbled whimper, she settled down, realizing seconds later that he wasn’t done.
“You want me?” he asked. “You’re gonna take all of me. We’re just getting started.”
CHAPTER
32
Heath kept his back to the door and his gun in his hand. The only way into Ryker’s reinforced bedroom was through him, and that wasn’t gonna happen. Even the window had been outfitted for protection.
He’d faced danger, and he’d defied death. But with Anya counting on him, with her needing him, his concentration held a sharp edge. A new one. He shut his eyes and listened.
Two heartbeats behind him and two downstairs.
Midnight had come and gone. With dawn’s approach, he didn’t feel danger near. The sense of air changing or the presence of somebody who shouldn’t be there was definitely absent.
But the morning was young yet.
He tried to banish thoughts of Anya from his mind and focus, but he couldn’t. He’d been way too rough with her, and there was no excuse. Yet she’d sighed his name and had been right with him until they’d gotten dressed and she’d taken position with Zara in the bedroom. She truly was stronger than he’d given her credit for. Damn, he wanted to be back in bed with her, and now.
It had to be about seven in the morning. He drew Anya’s phone out of his back pocket, checked the callers, and dialed Special Agent Reese.
“Yeah?” Reese answered, sounding fully alert. “Anya?”
“No. It’s Heath. Are you still watching the agency?” Heath asked.
“Affirmative. No movement out here. I don’t think he’s coming for her.” Reese sounded relieved.
“Agreed. He’ll see there’s no way to get her, so he might get sloppy. Maybe make a mistake. Do you have that covered?”
“Of course,” Reese said evenly. “We have agents on the families of law enforcement personnel within a two-hundred-mile radius of Snowville. If the guy is here, and if he has a backup plan for another victim, we’ll get him.”
That’s what Heath had been counting on. “Good. Keep surveillance on us.”
“I plan on it, but you need to do the right thing for Anya. Convince her to go into protective custody with us. We’re the best.”
Lethal Lies Page 26
