Or worse.
The tears came then, and there was nothing she could do about it. Not the adrenaline and fear-induced tears of earlier, but tears of exhausted relief that she’d gotten away. Survived. One more time.
Her knees turned to jelly again, and she slid down the tiled wall to huddle under the hot spray. When would the nightmare end? Why had this beast fixated on her? She was nothing special. She wasn’t even all that pretty. She was a nobody. Since coming to America she’d led a quiet life, enjoyed her solitude. Her little house was a treasure after always living in apartments in Dublin.
Would she ever be safe again? Would she ever feel safe again?
The shower curtain moved, and she jumped, but she wasn’t surprised when Paul leaned into the tub, shut off the now cold water, and lifted her into his arms.
“I locked the door to keep you out,” she said with a sniffle, and then wrapped her arms around his neck.
She did feel safe. When Paul was with her.
“You should know a flimsy little lock won’t keep me away.” He kissed her forehead then set her on her feet. “Let’s get you dried off. Dinner’s almost ready.”
She swallowed. The thought of food was enough to turn her stomach.
He swiped a towel over her briskly then lifted her cotton robe from the vanity. He’d thought to bring it in. As he held it for her, she looked up into his dark eyes. She wished he did love her. Because it would be so easy to spend the rest of her life with him. But she wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted a submissive, and she just didn’t have that in her anymore. She didn’t think she could trust anyone—not even Paul—enough to blindly follow. To trust him to always be here for her.
“You’re going to be okay,” he said in that gentle drawl.
She loved his voice. His eyes. His strong jaw. His hard biceps and solid chest. “You’re all wet.”
He grinned and cupped her cheek in his palm. “Hazards of helping a lady.” He kissed her so softly it was more like a wish than reality. “The steaks are going to burn if we don’t hurry.”
She tried to find a smile, but none would come. Exhaustion had dug its claws in, and all she wanted was to curl up and sleep.
Paul took her hand and led her to the back patio, where the grill smoked and salads sat waiting on the small glass-topped table. “Have a seat, honey.” He went to check the steaks then poured her a glass of wine. “I couldn’t find anything stronger.”
She took the glass from him and downed half of it in a long swallow. Usually wine was as strong as she drank, but tonight she could have used a shot or three of some good Irish whiskey. “Thanks.”
He refilled her glass, dished up the steaks, and then took his seat across from her. After a few bites he looked at her. “You need to eat.”
She took another deep swallow of the sweet wine, set the glass aside, then picked up her knife and fork. The food did smell good. She closed her eyes, put a bite of the perfectly seasoned steak in her mouth, and chewed. Her stomach didn’t rebel and, if she concentrated hard enough, she could block out the image of Harold and hear only the surf crashing on the shore. The sound of seagull cries. The slight scent of Paul’s spicy cologne mixed with the smell of the sea and smoky barbeque to tease her senses.
She wasn’t surprised when Paul’s hand settled over hers like a tender reminder that she wasn’t alone. She opened her eyes, and he was there.
“Talk to me, Heather. Get it out.”
She picked up her wine and finished the glass. Paul withdrew his hand so she could cut another bite of meat. He was patient as she ate a bit more. He ate his own food but watched her intently, as if he thought she might burst out crying again or...something.
Hell, she didn’t even know what she would do. Her emotions rolled and tumbled so quickly she couldn’t decide if she should cry, scream in frustration, or shout her fury.
“I wasn’t paying attention,” she finally said after eating half her steak and picking at the salad. She couldn’t handle another bite. “My mind was wandering, which is stupid, I know.”
“Hon, it wasn’t your fault.”
She shrugged. Maybe...maybe not. If she’d been paying attention to her surroundings, she probably would’ve seen him coming.
“It all happened so fast.” She turned in her seat and stared out at the ocean. The sun had set, but a few dying rays of light remained to slip between the beachfront homes and spread regular trails of fire along the beach like a fairy tale. Her porch light illuminated a small sanctuary surrounded by the encroaching darkness of night. The sand seemed to sparkle and, beyond the small breakers on the shore, the water was as smooth as a mirror.
“One second I was walking across the aisles, and the next I was pinned face down on the hood of a car, his hand over my mouth.”
“Did you know it was Harold?”
She nodded. “He said, ‘Hello, bitch,’ just like he did here in the house that night. And I know his smell. He wears a citrus-smelling aftershave, and the scent of cigarette smoke clings to his clothes.” She squinted, trying to remember the tiny details. “He had leather gloves on. Like driving gloves.”
“That’s good, baby. What else do you remember?”
Pulling her feet up onto the chair, she wrapped her arms around her knees. “He said I couldn’t hide behind my bodyguard boyfriend, and that no one was going to rescue me this time.”
When she stopped talking, Paul moved in front of her, then knelt on the wooden floor and laid his hands over hers. “You’re doing fine. Tell me what else happened.”
Heather realized Paul was interrogating her. She’d already explained to him and the other cops about why she’d hit those parked cars. Paul had relayed the information about Harold and the previous attack, so she hadn’t needed to relive this one in detail at the scene.
She met his eyes as a thought occurred to her. “His hand. It’s hurt.”
“Explain.”
“I had the pepper spray in my hand, and I sprayed him. He let me go. I ran for my car, but I couldn’t get the keys in the lock. He almost caught me, grabbed for me, as I pulled the door shut. I slammed the door on his fingers.”
“Do you know which hand?” Paul’s fingers tightened slightly over hers, and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was.
“His left, I think. No. No, his right. Because he struck the window with his left before I could pull away.”
Paul smiled and surged to his feet, pulling his cell phone from his belt as he did so. He kissed her on the top of the head even as he dialed. “Let’s hope you broke a couple bones, baby. God, I’m proud of you.”
For an instant, warmth surged through her. She had done good, she assured herself. She’d fought, and she’d survived.
“Morris, it’s Baxter. Check all local hospitals and clinics for a man with an injured right hand. Heather says Reeves’ hand got caught in the door during the altercation.”
Paul’s hand settled on her shoulder, and she tipped her head to rest a cheek against his knuckles. Her eyes drifted shut.
“That’s right. Keep me posted.”
She heard Paul flip his phone shut and then his arms were around her, lifting her. “Time for you to sleep, honey.”
She snuggled against his wide chest, her face against his throat. “I still need my briefcase.”
“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“You can’t keep me home.”
“Shh, honey. You’re too tired to discuss this now.”
He settled her on the bed and then slipped her robe from her body, tugging it from beneath her. It would be so easy to let him take care of her forever, she thought as he stretched out next to her and wrapped his strong arms around her.
“The dishes on the patio. The seagulls...”
“I’ll take care of it after you fall asleep.”
Curling into his side, she let out a deep sigh. She wished he did love her. She wished she didn’t have to fight against loving him. She wondered if her heart would
ever heal when she lost him.
Chapter Nine
A hard male body warmed Heather’s backside. The gentle caress of a slightly callused hand skimmed over her belly. The low murmur of Paul’s voice in her ear made her tingle all over.
“I need you, honey. But you have to wake up.”
His erection pressed against her butt with impressive length, and she giggled. “It’s just a morning thing. It’ll go away.”
He chuckled and nipped her earlobe, making her moan. “It won’t go away until after I’ve sunk into your slick, tight body.”
“Mmm.” She thrust her ass against him. “What are you waiting for, then?”
His fingers, which had been circling her belly button, slid upward to cup her breast. “Permission.” His teeth skimmed her neck, her shoulder.
She pressed her chest forward into his palm and sucked in a breath when his thumb skimmed over her nipple, bringing it to immediate attention. “Granted.”
“You have the sexiest freckles. I could spend all day counting each one. Tasting each one.” His tongue painted swirls on her shoulder blades that made her squirm. It tickled, but it made her throb, too.
Lost in a haze of need and arousal, she reached behind her to wrap her fingers around his cock, but he pulled out of reach and abandoned her breast to clasp her wrist in his hand. “No, honey.”
She whined when he captured her other wrist and rolled her onto her belly. He held her hands over her head and straddled her thighs.
“I’m not sure which view I like best.” He licked her nape, gently bit her neck.
She yelped when lightening bolts sizzled along her nerve endings. Her breath grew shallow as she waited in anticipation of his next move.
“Your breasts are beautiful, and I love how your dark nipples harden against my touch. But your ass...” The tip of his cock teased the tender, swollen flesh between her thighs. “...your ass is enough to make a grown man weep in thanksgiving.”
She burst out laughing.
He nipped her shoulder. “You laugh at me?”
“I’ve heard plenty o’ lines in me day, but never has anyone said my arse made ‘im weep.”
Paul chuckled, and the sound gave her another thrill. “Your accent, milady, gets stronger when you’re aroused, I see.”
She bit her tongue and grinned. She hadn’t realized. Usually she tried hard to keep the burr from her words. Paul made her forget everything.
He leaned over her, the fine hairs on his chest ever so lightly skimming her shoulder blades. She shivered.
“You like that, Heather?” He rubbed against her again. Her skin tingled. Moisture pooled between her thighs when she noticed the slight pressure of his cock against her anus.
She nodded. Groaned. Tried to rise up to give him better access, but his body pinned her to the bed.
“Tell me where you want me, love.”
“There...”
“Don’t move,” he said as he released her arms to shove two fat pillows under her middle, raising her ass up in the air like some pagan sacrifice. She didn’t move, though. Not one bit beyond what he did to her, adjusting her to his liking. Spreading her legs wide.
Her breaths were shallow, and she felt a bit lightheaded. How could one man make her so hot so fast? With just his hands, his mouth, and his dark voice in her ear, she was ready to come.
She heard the condom pack being ripped open. She expected his cock to return but screamed and nearly shot off the bed when his tongue invaded her pussy and flicked against her clit.
He chuckled, and the vibrations of his laughter sizzle through her body.
“You are so wet. Is this all for me?”
She grinned at his playfulness but couldn’t find any words to answer. All her concentration was on his mouth and his fingers as they probed and delved into her.
When his tongue slid up the ultra-sensitive skin between her vagina and anus she lurched in surprise. She couldn’t remember anything feeling so intense. So damn good.
“Don’t move.”
She fisted the top edge of the mattress as every muscle in her body tightened, preparing for the orgasm that was building.
“Don’t come.”
“Don’t be an arse!”
Paul chuckled but didn’t stop his exquisite torture. His fingers slid deep into her channel, then lightly pressed at her anus while his tongue teased her clit and the rest of the swollen, throbbing area.
She fought the approaching climax, knowing if she held back, it would be even better.
One thick finger slid through the puckered ring of her ass at the same time he suckled her hardened clit.
She groaned and gritted her teeth.
“That’s my girl.” His hot breath teased her even more, and she began to shake. “Can you take more?”
“Yes, please, sir.”
A second finger joined the first. She was tight, it had been so damn long, and there was pain at first. But then his talented lips and tongue made her forget everything except fighting back the orgasm that clawed for release. When the fingers of his other hand joined in and slid into her cunt, she thought she’d spontaneously combust.
“Oh damn, honey. You’re so fucking hot.”
She whimpered.
“A little more.” As a third finger pressed into her ass, she bucked against him.
“Come now.” The words were soft, but the slight sting of his teeth nipping her butt cheek sent her over the edge with a scream.
Her entire body tensed and pulsed. Her thighs clamped around him as his fingers kept thrusting inside her. The world exploded into a kaleidoscope of color. All she knew was the scent of her arousal, the sound of her ragged, rasping breath, and the pleasure of him controlling her body.
She went limp, as if Paul transformed her bones to cooked noodles.
Then he moved, spread her legs again, and slammed his cock into her pussy with a satisfied grunt.
In a flash her body responded like a firecracker, and she rose up on her knees to meet his second thrust. He pounded into her, his thighs slapping her ass, his hands gripping her waist. She could do nothing but moan as the next orgasm grew inside her. He was so long, so thick.
He reached around and lightly pinched her clit, bringing her closer still, never wavering from his hard, fast rhythm.
“Ready?” he said in little more than a growl.
“Please, Master. Fuck me harder!”
“My pleasure.” He withdrew completely and then speared into her ass in one deep, powerful thrust.
She screamed as the pleasure-pain tore through her, tossing her off the edge into another shattering climax.
When her muscles tightened around Paul’s cock, he shouted. After a few more solid thrusts he found his own release with a loud, satisfied groan.
He collapsed atop her, his hot breath against her neck, and his damp skin clung to hers.
After a few long moments, Heather caught her breath and giggled.
“What?” Paul withdrew, tossed the condom in the trash beside the bed, then wrapped his arms around her and rolled them onto their sides.
“You’re so vocal.”
“Vocal?”
She giggled again and laced her fingers through his. “Grunting and groaning.”
He pinched her nipple lightly. “And you don’t think your screams woke the neighbors...three blocks away?”
Rolling onto her back, she grinned at him. “I didn’t see you trying to gag me.”
Throwing his leg across her thighs, he snuggled her closer, placed a proprietary hand over her breast, and buried his face in her hair. “No way. I like knowing I make you forget yourself.”
“Hmm.” Her eyelids drifted closed. “You can make me forget anytime you want, Detective.”
His thumb cruised back and forth over her nipple, pulling little aftershocks from deep within her.
“Even now,” he said, his voice low and lazy in her ear, “your body reacts to my touch.”
“Mmm hmm.” Her
nipple had drawn up hard. Pleasure pulsed through her from the touch of his fingers. Her pussy tightened, wept, readied for more.
His hand trailed down her belly. “You want another?”
“I doubt you’d be up to it. You might be Wondercop, but you’re not Superman.”
He chuckled and tangled his fingers in her damp pubic hair.
Her breath sucked in and her hips rose off the bed. God, how could he do this to her?
“Ten seconds.”
She wiggled her legs farther apart so he had access to her hot, throbbing pussy. “Ten seconds?”
“I’ll make you come in ten seconds.” He rose up on his elbow until his face loomed over hers.
What a handsome man. So sure of himself. She smirked. “No way.”
“One.” He slipped his middle finger between her labia and flicked her clit.
Her body jerked in reaction, over-sensitized from just minutes before.
“Two.” Three fingers slid into her slick channel. “You’re so wet. So soft. Three.” He twisted his hand slightly and his fingers honed in on her G-spot. “Your cream tastes like honey.”
She whimpered. “No fair.”
“Four. I could eat you all day and want more.” His thumb flicked her clit, and she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look into his too-knowing eyes.
“Five. You can’t hold back because you want to come. You know it excites me, and you like to please me.”
Her hips lifted as if of their own accord, and she knew he was right. “Bastard,” she hissed. He knew her body better than she did.
He chuckled. “Six.” His tongue traced her bottom lip. “Can you taste yourself? Do you like your flavor as much as I do?”
She raised her hand to the back of his head, speared her fingers through his thick, soft hair, and ran her tongue over his mouth. Salty sweet. A mixture of him and her. She moaned.
“Seven,” he said against her lips the second before he speared his tongue into her mouth. His fingers pressed deep into pussy. There was no fighting it. She didn’t want to.
Anna Leigh Keaton & Madison Layle - Incognito 04 - Healing Heather Page 9
