When her back hit the cold hardwood, she didn’t complain, only begged for more with a heated gaze and clutching hands. I shoved that skirt up to her waist, grabbed her panties in my fist and pulled them aside, diving in for a taste of that sweet pussy. God, I’d missed her tang, the way she writhed and moaned.
My cock begged for mercy, trapped between me and the hard floor, but I didn’t care because, sweet Jesus, the noises she made. She came fast and hard, ripping at my hair. The woman could have every strand, tear it all from the roots. She could rip me to shreds, and I’d bleed dry for her with a smile on my face.
Golden hair formed a halo around her head. Her chest rose and fell. I freed my cock and drove deep, grunting, “Fuck!” incapable of anything other than profanity.
When the stars cleared from my vision, I found her arched beneath me, panting, her neck exposed, her tits shoved against my chest.
A perfect moment I’d forever treasure.
“Fuck me,” she purred. “Hard.”
And I did. I fucked her halfway across the floor because I couldn’t get deep enough, drive hard enough, come fast enough.
And shit, I’d wanted her so desperately I hadn’t grabbed a condom, but I wasn’t about to pause, so instead of coming inside her like instinct dictated, I pulled out and came all over that gorgeous red dress.
Fuck it. I’d buy her a new one. I’d buy her a thousand dresses just so I could replay that moment, over and over.
A phone chimed somewhere in the dark. Not mine.
I sat back on my heels. Natalie leaned up on her elbows. Hair a gorgeous mess. Tits on display. Killer grin.
Another chime.
“Ignore it,” she said.
Not a problem. I wasn’t about to share her with anyone.
She sucked me off in the shower.
I ate her out on my couch.
She passed out in my bed after round five. Her phone continued to chime, and I loved that she didn’t check it once, giving me one hundred percent of her attention.
But the incessant ding drove me mad. I found her handbag in the dark and dug out her cell, my intention only to power the damn thing down.
Her screen was full of texts, all of them reading the same.
I found you.
You can’t hide.
You’re dead.
Mother fuck.
I dialed Detective Waters before considering the time.
A groggy voice answered, “Yeah?”
“If there’s even the slightest chance she could have survived that accident, I need to know.”
Soft breasts pressed against my chest. A bare pussy nestled against my thigh. Warm breaths hit my neck. Good God, waking to such bliss could ruin a man.
I wasn’t ready for the day. Dreaded goodbye. The sharp stab in my gut every time she left. My chest ached despite the way she clung to me.
Cupping her ass, I ground my erection against her belly. My beauty stirred but continued with the deep breathing, her faint snore the sexiest melody.
I brushed her hair away from her face to reveal two scars, almost identical in size and shape, but on opposite sides of her forehead.
One of which Victoria had caused.
Fuck. I had married, then buried, a monster, and seeing evidence of the hell she’d put Natalie through filled me with vile hatred. Anger welled, heating my core, but I refused to allow my rage in the same bed as my angel.
Slow and steady, I inched my way off the mattress, leaving my sleeping beauty to dream. I threw on my workout gear and made my way downstairs to the gym.
Early morning hours were my time to purge. Me and the heavy bag. And, fuck, how I needed a good cleansing.
Blood. Sweat. Pain. Release. Release.
Release.
One strike for every memory.
Martin’s betrayal. Jab. Cross.
Victoria’s deceit. Jab. Cross. Uppercut.
My naive ass. Jab. Cross. Hook. Cross.
Those fucking texts.
Strike after strike, I expelled the demons. Cleansed my murderous urges. Purified my soul of the humiliation.
Only when I couldn’t draw steady breath or lift my arms for another blow, I headed for the treadmill, ditching my gloves on a nearby bench.
“It’s six in the morning.”
Her sleepy voice hit me like a freight train full of happy juice.
“On a Sunday,” she added.
I turned to find Natalie in the doorway, feet bare, wearing my plaid pajama bottoms rolled tight at the ankles and a black T-shirt that hung halfway down her hips. Hair a mess. Still the sexiest damn woman I’d ever seen.
“Morning, sunshine.” For a long moment, I stood stone still, unsteady emotions rolling through me. Guilt a ball and chain holding me captive in the pits of my despair.
Mere months ago, I’d sworn to forever love another woman. Yet when I shared space with Natalie King, thoughts of my dead wife were nothing more than smudges on the window of my past, too easily disregarded, too hastily wiped away.
Then, Natalie flashed that gorgeous smile and came my way. I met her halfway, and we collided, arms cinching, lips crashing, bodies melding, and she didn’t give a fuck that I was drenched in sweat. She didn’t care that someone might see her in baggy clothes, messy hair, or no makeup. She was there for me and only me, and somehow that mattered more than pride, grief, self-pity, or the guilt I carried for loving one woman while violently mourning another.
I kissed her dizzy. Urged her legs around my waist, then walked to the mirrored wall and pinned her against the glass.
“Why are you down here and not in bed with me?” she asked, her voice the sweetest aphrodisiac.
Because my maybe dead wife might be sending her messages. God, had Natalie even looked at her phone yet?
“You see a therapist. I beat a heavy bag.”
Sad eyes studied me. “You can talk about them, you know. To me. If you need to.”
Fuck. She was everything. “How long do I need to mourn before its appropriate to make you mine?”
Natalie raised a finger to my forehead, traced my eyebrows and the slope of my nose. “Is that something we have to worry about right now? We have this morning, then I have to go home.”
“God. I don’t want to let you go,” I growled into her neck before taking a nibble.
Natalie’s finger dropped from my jaw to the gold chain around my neck, her silver eyes shimmering with questions. I’d never thanked her for returning the pendant, or for the chain that was far to masculine for the small cross but paired perfectly regardless. Thank you never had seemed sufficient.
I choked down a thick ball of emotion and managed to mumble, “It was my sister’s.”
“You carried it around in your pocket,” she whispered, then tapped on my chest. “You should keep it closer to your heart.”
She decimated me. Tore me to shreds, then stitched me back together, a better, stronger version. Where she’d found that cross, or how she’d known I’d carried it in my pocket, didn’t fucking matter. The fact that she knew and cared? Fuck. Words fell weak.
Instead, I poured all my passion and gratitude into a kiss, everything inside me spilling over. Natalie took and gave back tenfold, writhing and moaning in my arms, and I fell into a heavy fog of love and lust.
Natalie pulled away first, her cheeks rosy, her gaze feral. “Take me back upstairs.”
“I need to show you something first.” I dropped my arms, and Natalie lowered her feet to the ground, claiming my left hand, entwining our fingers. So trusting.
I locked up the gym. Hand in hand, we ascended the stairs. We bypassed my office, then my apartment, and I took her to the security elevator and punched the code.
One floor up, I kissed her hard before the doors slid open.
Fresh paint stifled the air. That smell meant progress.
Natalie spun a three-sixty, taking in the reception desk, the office doors, the security cameras. Down at the far end of the hall, plastic sheeting h
ung floor to ceiling and a ladder lay folded on the floor.
“What is this?”
We couldn’t go any farther since construction was still underway.
“You already know my sister died.”
Natalie grabbed my hands and nodded, giving me her full attention.
“What I never told you was that she’d died at the hands of her boyfriend. She was a freshman at UW. I was still in high school. I fucking idolized her. She was so goddamn smart. Wanted to be a pediatrician.” I blinked against the moisture in my eyes. “We knew she had a boyfriend, though she never brought him home. She was fucking good at hiding the bruises. None of us had a clue. She’d withdrawn from the family, but I assumed that was because of her workload at school.
“The first time he put her in the hospital, she told us she’d tripped down the stairs at his apartment. I don’t remember her excuse the second time, but when he’d insisted she recover at his home, rather than with her family, we knew.”
“I dragged Martin and Ellis to his place. Practically knocked his goddamn door down. He came home while I was packing her things. The fucker insisted we were wrong. Cadence backed him up. They threw us out. I called Dad. Dad called the police. They couldn’t do a goddamn thing.
“A month later, he ran her down with his Impala. She was in a coma for two weeks before she passed.”
“You blame yourself,” she said, swallowing hard.
“I should’ve tried harder.”
Natalie stared at me, lips pursed, a thousand questions in her eyes, but she didn’t downplay my guilt. “So what’s all this then?”
“When it’s finished? A safe place for victims. Any resource they need, they’ll have, right here. Doctors. Counseling. Child Care. Lawyers. Detectives. Food. Clothing. Online schooling. Upstairs? Apartments, rent free, for as long as they need. A day. A week. Months. Doesn’t fucking matter.”
“You’re a good man, Cole Adams.”
“My mother says I have a Savior’s complex. Maybe she’s right. I don’t know. When Cadence died, I blamed myself. Shut down for a while. Hid in the gym. Training was my only outlet, the easiest way to exhaust the anger and guilt. The only other thing that helped me out of my funk was helping people.”
“All those charities you support,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my waist, laying her cheek against my sweaty chest. “You tried to save me, didn’t you? When you’d insisted I take those self-defense classes.”
She was right. Still, I said, “You’ve never needed saving.”
“I need saving right now, Cole.”
“That so?” I chuckled, turning her toward the elevator. “From what?”
“Take me back to bed, and I’ll tell you.”
Heavy-lidded eyes met mine and, with a sweet smile, Natalie grabbed my hand and tugged, urging me toward the bed. She smelled like sex and tasted like toothpaste. When I pulled her toward the shower, she dug in her heels and shook her head no.
“I’m a sweaty mess,” I argued.
“I want you dirty, Cole,” she said, her voice dripping with need.
The hounds of Hell could’ve dragged me kicking and screaming to the fiery pits, and I would’ve fought my way back, picking my teeth with their bones. Fuuck. She wanted me dirty. Sweeter words? Not in my lifetime.
I gave her dirty. I gave her deep. I gave her hard. I gave her bites and licks and moans and every filthy thought that came to mind.
And when I came inside her, I gave her all of me, holding her tight, panting, “I love you. God, I fucking love you.”
We lay silent and still, only our breaths between us. I was exhausted and sated and so damn happy, and I couldn’t let her walk out of my life again.
Dropping a kiss to her nose, I whispered, “Tell me where you live.” I already knew. Did that make me a jackass? Too fucking bad.
“Why?” she asked, eyes bright and hopeful.
“You know why.”
“Because our mothers believe we’re soulmates?” she teased, snuggling closer, her heated skin melting into all of my empty spaces.
“We are.” I smoothed a hand over her naked ass, then gave her a hard slap, her squeal an angel’s song. “Why can’t you admit they’re right?”
“If it’s true, if you’re my destiny, then it won’t matter if you know where I live. We’ll find our way back to each other.”
She wanted to play. I wanted to beg her to stay.
“You little devil.”
“What do you say?” She pushed away from me, planting a palm on my chest. “Shall we test the theory?”
I’d play along. Anything to keep that smile on her face. And hell, I could use her game to my advantage. “On two conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“I get you every night on the phone, and I get you at least two weekends of every month. You can fly home on my dime.”
She rolled to her back. “I can come home on my own dime.”
“Fine.” I climbed on top of her, caging the spirited, quirky beauty. I’d lock her in a tower if I could. “But I get you every night on the phone.”
“That won’t be a problem, but I have a condition as well.”
“What’s that?”
Her soft fingers grazed my cheek. “You find someone to talk to. You can’t let everything they did to you fester.”
I hated the idea of talking to a shrink, but not as much as I loved making her smile, or laugh, or moan, or fuck—not as much as I loved her. “Agreed.”
Shimmering eyes held my gaze. “This is crazy.”
“This is us.” I kissed her nose.
“How long you think we can do this?”
I’d give her a couple of months, tops. My sunshine wasn’t just a city girl; she was a Seattle girl. From those stormy silver eyes plucked from the clouds, to the vibrancy that flowed through her veins, drawn straight from the pulse of our colorful metropolis. I nudged her knees apart and nestled between her thighs. “For however long it takes you to realize you can’t live without me.”
Natalie
My thumbnail was chewed to the quick. My stomach twisted in knots, and I’d squirted ketchup on my favorite green sweater. And the cherry on top of my morbid Sunday? Three new texts.
I found u
Bitch
You tried to hide
That last message was new. The past few days they’d read U can’t hide.
Now, You tried to hide blared like a bad omen on my screen. I was done. I’d head home, change my clothes, and visit Whisper Spring’s Police Department.
“Where’s Caleb?” I asked, shoving my phone into my handbag.
Monica peeked around her cubby. “He’s following up on the proposal you put together.”
“Good job, by the way,” Brandon added from the other side of the wall. “Not sure how you came up with those numbers, but Caleb was impressed.”
I didn’t mention that I knew the owner of Rossi Enterprises. That I’d had coffee with his wife at their diner at least once a week. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. As far as Rossi Enterprises was concerned, the proposal came from Pacific Regional Bank. My name was nowhere on the documentation.
“Thanks guys. But it was a team effort.” With a smile on my face and a ball of nerves in my gut, I said goodnight to my coworkers and headed for my car.
Wind whipped my hair, and I pulled my coat tight around my middle to ward off the chill. January was in a foul mood. Ominous clouds hung heavy in the sky. The waterlogged earth gave under my weight, soaking my boots with muddy slush from the melting snow.
My focus was not on my surroundings as Dad had drilled into my brain. Instead, I focused on dodging puddles.
Two steps from my vehicle, a hand lay on my shoulder.
I screamed.
My boss dodged a strike aimed at his throat.
“Caleb!” I stabbed his chest with my finger. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I was calling for you.” He wore a cheesy grin that made him look ten
years younger.
“Shit. Sorry. The wind.” I realized I was still yelling, pulled a chunk of hair out of my lipstick, and asked, “What’s up?”
A hearty gust knocked me sideways. Caleb grabbed my arm to hold me steady.
Hair tangled in my glasses, and I pushed them on top of my head to help tame the strands.
He leaned closer, his grin smug. “We got the meeting.”
“What?”
“First thing tomorrow. Carlos Rossi was impressed.”
“Oh, my God. That’s great!” Inside, I squealed like a little girl. Outside I was… Oh, who was I kidding? I clapped my hands together and hopped on my toes. “This is great, right?”
“This is better than great, King. We land Rossi Enterprises, we quadruple our numbers for the year.” Hands to my shoulders, he laughed. “You’ll be head of your own division in no time.”
I could’ve floated away with the winter storm. Unable to contain my joy, I threw my arms around my boss and gave him a celebratory squeeze.
His reciprocation was quick and innocent, and before letting me go, he whispered in my ear, “Now go home and rest up. Big things happening tomorrow. Big things.”
His hands slid to my waist, brief and more fatherly than affectionate, blue eyes beaming. “Glad you’re on our team, King.”
He reached around me, opened my door, and waited for me to settle in the seat.
“See ya’ tomorrow,” I yelled, watching him retreat.
God, I’d never sleep. The Rossi account was huge. I couldn’t wait to tell Cole.
I fired up the engine and cranked the heat. Movement caught my eye, and I glanced at the rearview. A blurry figure passed behind my car, but a head of blond hair was unmistakable.
I turned in my seat and righted my glasses to get a better look, but whomever I’d seen was gone.
Halfway home, my phone chimed with incoming texts.
Not until I was safely locked in my condo did I check my messages.
The first was a pic of Caleb and me mid-embrace.
Then another of Caleb looking down at me, his hands on my hips.
To any outsider, we could’ve been mistaken for lovers.
L.O.V.E. Page 21
