Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4)

by Morgan Kelley

  How could she exist without him?

  “Emma, now is the time you ask for just about anything, and I won’t say no, like a pony.”

  She laughed at that. “Roll over,” she replied, waiting for him to do just that. As she climbed up his body, she poured more oil on her hands and prepared to rub it into his skin.

  “I smell like you, and I find that I love every second of it,” he muttered, as her fingers began working on his chest, his arms and even down to his palms.

  He couldn’t even move, and when she perched right across his hips, his body roared to life. It didn't take much.

  The scent of his woman.

  The feel of Emma.

  It was all calling to the need that lay dormant just under the surface. As her fingers traced over his pectoral muscles and nipples, his body shook beneath her.

  “Emma, honey,” he murmured, wanting so much more. He wanted to forget everything that was stressing him out, and just fall into the woman above him.

  It wasn’t hard to feel him waking beneath her. After all, she was sitting on top of him. Where she wanted to roll around with him, Emma knew he needed to work. If the papers weren’t signed, and the FBI things weren’t complete, he’d be even more worked up.

  As her hands ran down his ribcage and to his hips, he began breathing heavy. It was amazing to have this much power over a dominant man. In their bedroom, there was no comparison. She was the one in charge.

  Greyson watched her as she slid lower down his torso. When her fingers ran across his abs, his entire body was on alert. His Emma was inches from where he wanted her to be. Licking his lips, he watched in anticipation as she blew a breath across his erection. When strands of her silky red hair fell, tickling his flesh, Greyson was sure that he would go out of his mind with need.

  Want.

  Lust.

  Desire.

  When she glanced up at him, there was nothing less than pure unadulterated love in her eyes. His wife was offering him peace, when he was helpless to hold onto it himself. The fiery redhead, who he promised to protect until the day he died, was offering it right back to him.

  His wife was taking care of his needs.

  “Get comfortable, Greyson,” she said, taking him in her hand. When he moaned at just that simple touch, Emma knew that she couldn’t stop there. Starting at the base of his erection, she ran her tongue up the full length.

  He shook. “Emma,” he whispered, getting wild from just watching his wife lick him like a content cat.

  “Shhhhhhh,” she said, before taking him in her mouth.

  The second her lips closed over him, his brain stopped working. Effectively, his lower anatomy was now in charge, being led on by his very sexy kitten.

  As she worked him in and out of her very warm, welcoming mouth, he fought for control. Sliding his hand into her hair, he guided her strokes. Some were quick and heated, others were long and sensual.

  Emma worshipped his body, offering him the peace that was eluding him. If he needed her, she’d take care of him. When he held on with her hair, she knew he was a man teetering precariously on the edge.

  “Oh, Emma, honey,” he pleaded, as he fell into the most amazing feeling in the world. Okay, anything that involved her very wicked mouth, or incredible body, was equally spectacular. “If you keep that up, I’m going to lose control.”

  That’s what she wanted, as she let him feel what adoration was living inside her for him. This was her one true love, and Emma wanted to care for him like he always did for her.

  He never wanted this to stop. It was a spectacular feeling as he allowed the bliss to wrap itself around him, offering so much calm. When he opened his eyes again, he assumed that he was going to see his wife slowing down. Certainly, she was going to join in and finish him off. When she showed no sign of stopping, a thrill raced through him.

  “More?” she asked, only pausing for a moment to let him catch his breath. When he stared at her with so much lust and need in his eyes, she already knew his answer.

  “Yes! Don’t stop,” he pleaded, as her mouth went back to its mission. In the back of his mind, he knew he should roll with his wife, strip her bare, and make her scream his name, but he was helpless. She had him captivated.

  When her hands cupped him, his body shook.

  “Oh shit! Emma!” he moaned, arching up into her mouth as he fell into the abyss, shattering and tumbling out of control. His body drifted and floated through the pleasure as he fought to get back to the surface.

  The last words he heard were from his wife, as he let the warmth and peace envelope him. He wasn’t strong enough to fight the need to drift.

  Instead, he succumbed to the exhaustion and ecstasy.

  Emma rested there beside him, running her hands through the spattering of chest hair. She was so glad that he’d found a few moments peace. Listening to his breathing, she knew when he was out for the count. Pulling up the comforter, she tucked him in and left a kiss on his cheek.

  “I love you, Grey,” she murmured, turning down their bedroom light. For now, she had work to do. Part of carrying him when he was stressed meant taking care of the work that was now waiting.

  She grinned. It was a good thing that she could sign his name. It looked like she had inherited a whole pile of FBI paperwork.

  And one hell of a long night.

  * * *

  Paris Archer was exhausted. Pulling off his glasses, he rubbed his bleary eyes. What he needed was to find the connection and get some sleep.

  Since he knew one of those two options wasn’t happening, it meant he might as well take a nap.

  Glancing over at his partner, he noticed that she was already out cold. She’d fought valiantly, but forty minutes ago she succumbed to the exhaustion. It wasn’t easy to stay awake when you were staring at a tablet and papers for hours at a time.

  It was hell on the eyes.

  Torture might be a better word for it.

  All night, he had been making notes in his shorthand. In the details, he was starting to find things that piqued his attention. There was nothing solid yet, or worth mentioning, but he was damn sure it was there.

  For now, he’d keep scratching at the surface, trying to unbury the truth. If this was what he thought it was, he’d picked up a trail. It was about following it to fruition, and handing the FBI the vindication they needed to lock this killer behind bars.

  He was going to do his job, and then keep the girl.

  Closing his tablet, he looked around. There really weren’t many choices in the room in which they were working. Since it had been someone’s office at one time, there was a couch, but it wasn’t huge. Well, it was better than nothing.

  Getting up, he moved toward the door to close and lock it. When he reached Tessa, he leaned down to pick her up in his arms. Stirring marginally, he wasn’t sure if she’d wake or not. Instead, she moved her face into the crook of his neck and fell back into a deep sleep. The chaste kiss warmed his soul.

  Carrying her to the couch, he made himself comfortable in the one corner, letting her rest with her body curled over his. If anyone had a key and came in, the jig was up, but odds were in their favor. It was late, and no one was around.

  Okay, the cleaning crews were lurking, but if they caught the two of them, who were they going to tell?

  Slipping down further into the couch, he thought about the woman lying across his body. The feel and scent of her was so familiar, there was a part of him that couldn’t ever remember existing without her.

  It was as if life began the minute she plowed into him.

  She was his beginning and end.

  From his position, he could see the hearts hanging around her neck. It thrilled him knowing that she was his. The boy who grew up too smart, too awkward, and socially inept, had found his true love.

  She was clever.

  Tough.

  Funny.

  And loved him for the man he was inside and out. Paris knew he was blessed to be given su
ch a treasure.

  “I love you, Tessa. I’m going to talk to the boss and see if I can give you what you want most in life. I want to spend the rest of my days making you happy.”

  She didn't reply.

  Leaving a kiss on the top of her hair, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. When he finally did, even there he was chased by dreams filled with screams, blood, and what he feared was to come true.

  The death of his heart.

  * * *

  With a red pen, a line was drawn through the name. All day, there had been this overwhelming desire to cross Jane Pepper off the list.

  She was no better than the rest of them.

  They were a cancer that threatened to get away with murder, and it was time to stop it.

  Shooting her in the head hadn’t been easy, but in the end, watching her body freefall to the ground was a beautiful thing.

  It was fluidity in motion.

  It was poetic justice.

  It was well past time.

  Now, the list was growing shorter, and the FBI was clueless. Wait until they learned who else was marked to die. When realization dawned, there would be mouths hanging open and tears being shed.

  The last few weeks, the victims had been watched. Each of their days were noted and examined. Little did the FBI agents know, they had patterns in their daily lives.

  They made it too easy.

  It was like flicking a flea from a dog.

  And they had no clue.

  It was priceless. As tomorrow turned to night, the next one would be sacrificed in the sake of justice. Maybe it would be a lesson for them all.

  Don’t betray your own.

  The laughter escaped, even as the need for revenge swelled.

  It was time to end this.

  More death was coming, and those who were marked had earned it.

  One betrayal at a time.

  ~ Chapter Thirteen ~

  Saturday Morning

  Tessa could feel a giant lump under her body, as she shifted, trying to escape it. When it moaned and held onto her, she finally figured it out.

  It was Paris.

  Then, alarm filled her. They had been at work when she passed out. Were they still there? Certainly, she would have recalled going home.

  Opening her eyes, she was face to face with the man she loved. He was watching her with an unblinking gaze which unsettled her.

  “Paris,” she murmured, not moving from his arms. Already, she could feel his body going taut beneath her. Her poor man had been her pillow all night. From the looks of it, he didn't sleep at all.

  “Tessa, baby,” he replied, staring at her lips. It had been a long, sleep deprived rest. The entire time, he either had horrifying dreams, or was focused on the woman lying on him. Nothing felt better than having his girlfriend in his arms, especially when they first woke up. In fact, his favorite time to roll around naked with Tessa was when they both were still warm from sleep.

  It was invigorating.

  Stimulating.

  Orgasmic.

  “We can’t,” she replied, knowing what he was thinking. His glasses were off, his hair was tousled, and she was visualizing the same exact thing.

  “Every day, I want you more,” he replied, giving in and dragging her lips to his. The kiss was explosive. It enveloped them both, drawing him under in the wake. Nothing felt like this.

  Nothing.

  As hands wandered and mouths mated, Paris immersed himself in the feel of his Tessa. She could drive him to madness and save him all at the same time.

  When her hands found their way under Paris’s shirt, sliding against his heated flesh, he moaned low in his chest.

  “God, Tess,” he whispered, running his lips over her neck. “I have to have you,” he begged. “If I don’t, I’ll go crazy.”

  She shook in his arms, wondering if they could pull it off. Since this had been an office, it likely wasn’t on the security cameras. “We shouldn’t,” she stated, giving him one last chance.

  “I need you.”

  The words were said with such heat and passion, all her common sense eroded away.

  “Yes, Paris. It’ll always be yes,” she promised, as he pushed her off his lap.

  Immediately, she stripped out of her pants, only undressing part way. When he freed himself, Tessa thought she was going to lose her mind. This was pure insanity.

  “Now, Tessie,” he pleaded, already hard and ready for her. When she climbed into his lap, sliding down onto his erection, they both moaned.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, as he filled her.

  Paris was wild with need, as Tessa was perched above him. “I can’t help but want you,” he whispered. “You’re my all.”

  His words fueled her on, and she began the ride. As his hands went to her hips, it became more than heated.

  It became desperate.

  Tessa had never wanted any other man more than this one. As she repeatedly buried him deep within her body, the pure pleasure on his face made her crazy.

  He wanted her.

  Loved her.

  She belonged.

  Tessa couldn’t love anyone else in her life, since her heart was filled with the man beneath her.

  “More, Tess. Give me more,” he whispered, as she bounced wildly in his lap. This was the hottest sex they ever had, probably because it was dangerous.

  When she dropped her head back and shook, Paris knew the inevitable was about to happen.

  Together, they were going to fall.

  Yanking her down hard, one more time, they both ruptured. His lips sought hers, as he pulled her mouth to his to swallow her shout of pleasure. As he took it into his body, nothing had ever felt more right in all his life.

  They were whole.

  No matter what came, as long as he believed that she was the one, they’d survive.

  The pleasure floated around them, and it was Paris who finally spoke first. “I could get used to this.”

  She snorted. “Don’t. We’re going to get fired if this room was monitored. You won’t enjoy telling the director that you couldn’t help it because you’re raring to go at six in the morning.”

  He smiled smugly. “I think he’d understand.”

  Tessa slid off his lap. “We better get put back together. There’s no telling when someone’s going to come look for us.”

  Paris yanked up his pants. “All done.” When he smugly, she gave him a look.

  “Yeah, you’re the man. You got laid at work. Now help me find my panties.”

  He laughed because that was a sentence he never thought he’d hear.

  Paris Archer was the man, all because of the woman who loved him.

  * * *

  Slowly, the sleep slid away and awareness began returning. As he woke, it was hard to figure out what had happened. At one point, he had been working, and then his amazing wife had given him the gift that kept on giving.

  He grinned smugly as the sun warmed his face.

  Then, he sat up with a start.

  Holy shit! He’d fallen asleep.

  Croft looked around the room, only to find himself alone. The glow from outside told the tale.

  It was morning!

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  This was bad. Too much bourbon, and his wife’s very wicked mouth had lulled him into a sleep induced stupor. Now, he was about five hours behind on work, and no time to get it done.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, as he raced from the bedroom, pulling on his boxers. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

  Out in the living room, the condominium was silent. There were signs that his wife had been up and moving around. On the kitchen island was a plate with muffins and brewing coffee. A part of him wanted to be angry with himself for succumbing to sleep, but Croft knew he was only human.

  Heading to the couch, he would have to skip breakfast and get signing. If he had any hope of getting all the requisition forms to his secretary on time, it would tak
e a miracle.

  Sitting, he noticed that everything was neatly put away. Croft knew he didn't do it. When his wife had led him to their bedroom last night for the massage, he’d left it all scattered.

  Opening the folder, he grabbed pen and stared down.

  It was signed.

  So was the next one.

  And following paper too.

  In fact, they were all done.

  Gone were the little arrow post it flags. Each and every form was taken care of, as if by some miraculous divine intervention. Maybe the paperwork Gods were taking mercy on him.

  Picking up one of the papers, he examined the signature. It was close to his, but not exact. Something wasn’t right.

  “Hey!” Dante said, coming into the room, buttoning his shirt.

  Croft glanced over. “Did you sign all these?”

  He looked at him as if he was insane. “Uh, no, was I supposed to? I know we look alike, but I don’t generally pretend to be an older crankier man. Besides, impersonating a Fed is a felony.”

  Since Curtis was likely camped out at the office that left only one person. “It had to be Emma.”

  “Well, when I came in around two, she was sitting there working on something. I didn't bother her, because it was late.

  There was guilt.

  Dante meandered over to the fresh baked muffins. “They’re still warm. My God, man! Do you get these all the time?” he asked, biting into one and making yummy noises.

  He looked over, eyeing the muffin and his brother suspiciously. “Yes, but she sneaks healthy things into them to trick me.”

  Dante didn't care.

  “Healthy or not, you’re a lucky man, Grey. Every bachelor on the planet would kill for a clean place and hot muffins.”

  Yeah, Croft was incredibly fortunate. His heart thumped in his chest at this gift. Here, his work was done and she’d made him breakfast and coffee.