by Shayla Black
Hannah laughed on her behalf. “Ferocious, huh? Are you friends of Josh’s?”
“We are.” Nick took her hand. “My girlfriend and I rolled into town late last night. We’re staying a few days and we’d like to visit him. Will he be home tonight?”
The dog walker looked Nick’s way, then stepped back, as if suddenly put off by his size or intensity. “I don’t know. I only walk his dog. I’ll tell him you’re in town. What are your names?”
Nick managed a false wince of regret. “I wish you wouldn’t. We really want to surprise him. We haven’t seen him since his housewarming party.”
“That’s right.” Sasha nodded to ease the woman’s suspicions. “Shortly after he made that task force at the DA’s office, right?”
“Exactly.” Nick sounded as if he knew that for a fact.
The details helped smooth the woman’s skeptical expression. “Oh, it has been a long time since you’ve seen him. Okay, I won’t mention it. He should be home around six.”
“Perfect. Thanks for your help.” Sasha smiled, then reached out to the dog. “Bye, Monster. Cute little guy.”
The canine barked happily and allowed her to pet his head, then swiped his affectionate tongue over her wrist.
Hannah eased back. “Have a great day.”
With a wave, they jaunted back to the SUV, then headed to a strip mall that had both a sporting goods store and an electronics boutique. Errands managed, they went to the motel Nick had scouted out. It had a colonial facade and a traditional brick-and-shutters front, along with an air of glory days long past.
“I’m sorry it’s a shithole,” he murmured beside her as they parked.
She shrugged. “It’s a bed and a shower. I’ve gone days—sometimes weeks—without either. I’m grateful.”
His face tightened with something that looked an awful lot like regret. “We’re going to nail Clifford so you never have to go without either again.”
She believed he would do anything to make that happen. He was the kind of man who kept his word. He had even gone to prison to keep a promise to Mike.
They exited with their purchases and luggage, then entered a sad lobby with brown floors and a big fleur-de-lis affixed to the front of the check-in desk. An old man who couldn’t have acted more bored checked them in. Up a narrow stairwell, past a broken light fixture, then down a hall with green turf open to a dingy pool atrium below, they found room 218.
Nick shoved the key in the cinnamon-colored door with rusting accents. Inside, the burgundy-and-beige-patterned carpet didn’t quite hide the stains. Same with the brown bedspread splashed with red, blue, green, and pink blobs that might have once been flowers. A musty, moldy odor wafted from the air vents and blended with the stench of cigarette smoke.
“Jesus, this place is worse than I thought.” Nick grimaced.
It was, but that wasn’t really Sasha’s concern right now.
The big blue numbers on the nightstand’s cheap digital clock read five minutes after two. They had four hours to wait. As antsy as she felt, how could she kill the time?
A glance at Nick gave her ideas that made her body flash hot.
He unloaded their luggage and purchases onto a desk shoved in the corner and frowned. “I’m fucking beat.” He lowered the spread on the king-size bed, then sat and doffed his boots. “Let’s get this video copied so we have backups. Then we can grab some shut-eye.”
“Are you going to e-mail one to the Santiagos?”
He grabbed the computer, plugged it into the outlet, and connected to the Internet signal. “Not on this hotel’s Wi-Fi. It’s not secure. Getting on the network didn’t even require a password. I’ll send the evidence using my hot spot.”
The file took a while to send, but it finished and he closed the laptop’s lid. “Done.”
“So the evidence is safe?”
He nodded. “Clifford can’t squirm away now.”
Sasha closed her eyes in relief. This violent, tragic period in her life might really be over. She wanted Mike’s killer punished so she could finally live again. It seemed so surreal that after fifteen months of fear, danger, and near death, this nightmare might be over in four short hours.
Where would she and Harper go then? Where would they settle down? What would they do with the rest of their lives? How would she feel when she didn’t have to spend her every waking moment with Nick?
Empty. She didn’t want to live without him.
“Wake me in an hour,” he insisted.
“All right.”
“Thanks.” He tugged off his shirt.
With the fabric gone, Nick exposed tribal tattoos that swept up his lean ribs on one side, covered his bulging pectoral, drifted around his solid shoulder before changing direction to cascade down his rippling biceps and thick forearm. Sasha tried not to swallow her tongue as he lay on one side of the bed, closest to the door, and his body stilled.
In seconds, he dropped off. His deep, even breathing was barely audible in the room. And she was still staring at him, dazed by the sight of his wide back bunched and defined with more muscle.
Goodness, Nick Navarro was a beautiful man.
He wasn’t Mike. No one was. But she’d loved her late husband the way a girl cherished Prince Charming. She’d given her heart to him in a sugary drop, fallen with him into a champagne bubble of warmth and comfort. His death had burst that. With the pretty pink bow of forever ripped away, Sasha had been forced to push through thorns and become a woman.
Her sweet prince would never ride up on his white horse to save her because the villain had killed him. But the big, dark Beast beside her now would vanquish the demon, with her at his side. And she would fight to the death to protect her child—and her future with Nick.
There was nothing soft or sweet or innocent about the way she wanted him. She ached for him desperately, urgently, passionately. He challenged her between the ears, roused the flesh between her legs, and ignited a blaze between her ribs she knew would burn eternally.
Asking how or why was a stupid waste of time. Mike’s murder had proved that no one was guaranteed a tomorrow. She was going to wring every moment—and experience—she could from her time with Nick. She was going to tell him what was in her head and her heart. If he didn’t want her for more than a night…well, she would at least have the satisfaction of knowing she had given herself completely and honestly.
Suddenly, as if he sensed her gaze—or her decision—his eyes flashed open. Sasha found herself freefalling into his relentless stare, which seemed to remove every stitch from her body, despite the fact he wasn’t touching her at all.
“Nick?” She heard the breathlessness of her own voice.
“I need a shower,” he growled as he bounded off the bed and nearly ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Sasha frowned. He was…so jumpy. Tense. Wound up.
Sexually frustrated?
Suddenly, all the showers he took—morning and night—made sense. He wasn’t a clean freak or a germophobe. If he had been, they certainly wouldn’t be staying in this dive of a motel. He was masturbating in the shower to curtail his desire so he wouldn’t jump on her like the ravenous Beast she suspected he could be.
Like she wanted him to be.
It was up to her to prove she could not only handle that animal part of him, but that she craved it.
They still had hours to kill before they could return to Josh’s place, so now was the perfect time to show Nick exactly the woman she’d become.
His woman.
* * * *
Son of a bitch. Nick yanked on the tap and jerked off his jeans. He unwrapped the toy-sized bar of soap resting in the dish in the stall, then stepped under the weak spray.
He had to spend another night beside Sasha, sharing her sheets, wrapped in her sweetly female scent. How the fuck was he going to stop himself from stripping off every stitch she wore, baring all her sugar-soft skin to his greedy gaze, then crawling between her legs to s
hove his way home? Because that’s how he thought of her now. His person. His woman. His home. With her was where he belonged.
Jacking off wasn’t a substitute for her anymore, and he swore he’d lose his goddamn mind if he couldn’t touch her, taste her flavor on his tongue, and feel her every limb and orifice cling to him soon.
He could lie to himself, but why bother? He didn’t just want her because he hadn’t had sex with a woman in well over a year. He didn’t burn for her because she was beautiful. He coveted her because she was good and warm and giving. She was his sun and lit his darkness with so much light. Now that he’d seen the fierce survivor and protector in her, he only hungered for Sasha more.
Last night, she’d looked about as eager to take him deep inside her as she was to catch a disease. So where did that leave him?
Utterly fucked. No. Fucking his hand for relief. Again.
Nick lathered the harsh soap in his hands, which smelled faintly of artificial coconut and chemicals. He tried to block the crappy scent out as he tossed the small bar into the dish, then grabbed his throbbing cock.
He had to end the danger to Sasha tonight. He had to make certain they were safe—for Mike, for her daughter, for his own freaking sanity. Then he’d start over, maybe take Javier and Xander up on their offer, see if Sasha could picture any sort of future with him. If not, he’d find someone else he’d want eventually, right? Someday…maybe. On the twelfth of never. After hell froze over.
As fixated as he felt on Sasha Porter right now, he doubted he would ever feel a shred of desire for any other woman.
Pushing the thought aside, he tried to focus on the sensation of his soapy hand gliding down his sensitive shaft, then roughing his way up to the head, which he caressed with his roving thumb. He imagined Sasha touching him, arousing him. Tingles streaked and blistered through his veins. Excitement clawed through his system. His cock jerked in his grip.
Yeah, orgasm wasn’t going to take long. But he was quickly finding that wasn’t synonymous with satisfaction. If anything, he felt emptier beside Sasha when he’d just given himself temporary, hollow relief.
But it was safer than not controlling his raging need at all.
A click sounded above the din of the water. Nick paused mid-stroke. The squeak of the door filled the little bathroom next. The rush of cool air disrupted the steam swirling around him.
His heart stopped. The only person in the room with him was Sasha, and no way she would voluntarily come into the bathroom while he was wet and naked and wanting her.
Had Clifford’s goons found them already? Come to kill them?
Anxiety iced through him as he rinsed his hands and leaned to his left to peer around the shower curtain. He had to know his enemy, how many, how armed. If he survived, he’d curse himself for the carelessness of leaving his weapon on the nightstand. Would Sasha see it? Use it to save herself?
Or was it already too late?
Shifting his weight a bit more, he’d just visually cleared the edge of the shower curtain when he heard the sweetest, sultriest sound.
“Nick?” Sasha. She sounded jittery…but not afraid.
Maybe they weren’t under attack. But something had happened to prod her into the shower with him.
“What? You okay?” he asked, then pulled back the cheap plastic curtain enough to expose his face and clap eyes on her. His breath—and his heart—stopped.
She was utterly, head-to-toe naked. She met his gaze with hazel eyes full of resolution. And need.
Sasha Porter wanted him. She didn’t even have to say the words. He saw it on her face.
For a long moment, Nick couldn’t do anything except stare. And ache. And marvel that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen without a stitch.
Her long hair, now dark, fluttered over the smooth skin of her slender shoulders, onto the swells of her naturally heavy breasts. They were tipped with delicate rosy nipples that stood ready for his lips to suck and tease. She tapered into a small waist and a flat belly, which soon gave way to the flare of her womanly hips and generous, creamy thighs. As a natural blond, she had a faint dusting of fair hair shielding her pussy. He imagined her wet and pink, legs spread, waiting just for him.
Her hands fluttered nervously to the scar bisecting her between the hip bones. A couple of faint silvery lines shot up around the point of incision, now mostly faded. “I’m not perfect.”
“You are to me.”
She smiled faintly and pressed on as if he hadn’t spoken. “But I’m hoping you’d rather have the pleasure we could share together than whatever you could give yourself…”
So she’d figured out what he did in the shower, huh?
“Always.” His heart hammered. “You offering?”
“Yes.”
“Because you owe me?” God, he didn’t want her to say that. If she did… He gritted his teeth, fearing he might lose his fucking mind. He’d have to turn her away again.
She shook her head. “Because I’m falling in love with you.”
Her words went straight to his cock. He hadn’t thought he could get harder. Nick was shocked to find out that he, in fact, totally could.
God, he couldn’t touch her quick enough, couldn’t reach her soft body fast enough. He cut off the water and grabbed a towel off the rack. With one hand, he rubbed at the droplets beading over his skin. With the other, he curled his fingers around her arm and brought her close.
“Be sure.”
“That I want you? I am.”
“That you love me. I fell for you the moment I saw you. That might sound dumb, but…there it is. If you agree to be mine now, I won’t give you up. You’ll stay mine.”
Sasha didn’t hesitate. She didn’t shake her head or frown, back away in objection, or tell him to pound his own cock again. She didn’t do or say any of the fifty things he’d imagined she might if he admitted how he felt.
Instead, she softened, her lips lifting in a gentle, reassuring smile. “You’re mine, too.”
He dragged the towel over his middle one last time, then tossed it on the basin. “Absolutely, baby. Totally, utterly yours.”
“Good.” She lifted her hand to him, and he realized her fingers trembled.
Nick stepped from the stall and took her hand in his. “You’re nervous. Unsure?”
“Worried,” she countered. “I don’t have a lot of experience, and I want to please you.”
“Just breathe and say yes. You don’t have to do any more than that to thrill me. And relax. I don’t want you afraid of me.”
“I’m not.” She shook her head, sending her hair tumbling softly. “You’ll never hurt me, just make me feel good in ways that will blow my mind completely. I hope I can do the same for you.” She fell quiet. “But I have to say one other thing… If you’re worried about Mike, I think he would have approved. After all, he threw us together.”
Nick was relieved she’d come to the same realization he had. “Yeah. He knew how much I wanted you. I wasn’t good at hiding it.”
“I had no idea.”
“Oh, he did. About five minutes after he introduced us, he warned me away. My attraction for you was all over my face, so Mike dragged me out to the yard and confronted me.”
“What did he do, threaten to…beat you up?” She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Mike.”
No, his pal hadn’t been one for violence. “He said if I crossed the line with you that he and I would no longer be friends.”
And given how long they’d been close, Nick had known Mike meant that.
Sasha gasped. She understood the gravity of the threat, too. “So you stayed away—literally—for the rest of his life. Heavens… All through dinner that night, I thought you were detached, almost disinterested.”
He shook his head. “I honored my promise to Mike. I kept my distance.”
“But in his final hours, he ensured we’d be together again.”
“Yeah. And now I want you so bad I can’t fucking stand anot
her moment without touching you.” He stepped closer, then bent to whisper in her ear. “I intend to make you wet, make you scream. Make you mine.”
She shuddered against him. “Please.”
“I’m going to love being inside you.” He picked her up, fitting his hands under her lush, firm ass, and slanted his face to hers. “Kiss me.”
Sasha didn’t hesitate, just wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and parted her pretty bow lips to him.
As Nick carried her out of the bathroom, he barged into her mouth and sought out all the sweetest recesses. As he tasted her, he approached the bed and dropped her onto the starched white sheets.
With one arm thrown above her head and the other tossed out beside her, Sasha wasn’t hiding any part of herself from him. She wasn’t even trying. Instead, she wriggled her hips as if seeking relief from the ache she couldn’t deny. Her back arched as she dragged in a breath and implored him silently with half-parted lips and a sensual stare.
Nick wanted to savor her, but urgency crushed his self-control. He lowered himself on top of her, covering her body with his own, and plowed between her delicate lips again, swallowing her gasp.
Shit. He should slow down.
Just one more second… But he felt like he wouldn’t be able to breathe again until he had more of her flavor on his tongue, her silken skin under his fingers.
Since the first moment he’d laid eyes on her nearly three years ago, he’d burned to hold her. When he’d sat in a cell for interminable months, he’d shelved his guilt and fantasized that one day he’d be free to tug Sasha beneath him and devour her with all the hunger raging through his body. In his mind, he’d made love to her hundreds of times. He’d brought her to climax over and over with screaming, strangled cries in every way known to man.
Until today, Sasha hadn’t really considered him her lover.
Nick jerked his lips from hers, panting hard. “You okay?”
“Of course. You won’t break me.”
He slanted a glance at her. “As badly as I want to fuck you, I might.”
A blush stole up her cheeks. “You talk too much.”
