Sasha glanced from the road to the screen as it froze and a pop-up message about the operating system being out of date flashed, preventing Nick from playing the evidence.
“Fuck. Pull over,” Nick commanded. “I’m not a typist and this is too hard to do in a moving car.”
Sasha was cruising down the middle of three easterly lanes. “Anywhere in particular?”
“There.” He pointed to the entrance of a parking lot to her right, leading to a Chipotle.
She changed lanes and did what he’d asked. The lot was starting to fill up, and she knew better than to park in the middle of the crowd, so she coasted around back, between two empty cars that probably belonged to employees, and put the SUV in park.
As she did, he turned on his hot spot and hooked it up to the computer. When the device prompted him to download more updates, he cursed and pressed the button to begin.
Over his cell signal, the download moved slowly.
“I wish we could play the video already,” she said desperately.
“Yeah.” He spoke the word as if he understood exactly how she felt, as if he’d waited and hoped like hell vengeance was coming.
Her impatience spiked. In moments, the mystery might be solved. The endless days and nights of misery might be over. Sadness that she’d lost Mike mixed with triumph that she and Nick could actually solve his murder. Mike would be so proud of her.
But Nick might be her biggest surprise. Despite being Mike’s friend, she hadn’t known him well. Nick had moved to Lafayette before she and Mike had begun dating. He’d been burying his mother the weekend she and Mike married, so she hadn’t met him then, either. Their introduction after Harper’s birth had been brief and oddly tense. So when Nick had acted like a predatory jerk in the last thirty-six hours, Sasha had remembered Mike’s warnings and believed the worst.
Now that Nick had explained why he’d distanced himself and she had spent time in the circle of his protection and caring, she gauged him not by his words but through his actions. He could have slammed the door in her face that midnight she’d come, begging for help. He could have told her that he’d just gotten out of prison and didn’t want any more problems with Walter Clifford. But he hadn’t. He’d risked life, limb, and freedom to give her and Harper a tomorrow.
Equally telling, Nick was denying himself something he wanted badly—her. Apparently, he’d been doing it since the moment he set eyes on her. He could have taken advantage of her twenty times by now. After all, she’d agreed to be his mistress for a month, give him whatever kind of sexual payment he demanded. But, despite being without sex for over a year, he’d refused her body both times she’d offered it. Last night he’d bestowed dazzling pleasure on her without asking for anything in return. Instead, he had done his utmost to respect Mike’s friendship and memory. Even now, he tried to protect her, especially from himself. His self-sacrifice struck her as both noble and sexy. Sasha didn’t know everything he thought or felt, but deep down she knew he was a good man. No denying he aroused her body in ways she’d scarcely imagined.
Yes, he could be gruff and foul-mouthed and blunt. But he was also smart and protective—and so much more than the dangerous criminal she’d believed him to be days ago.
Circumstance. Situations. Inevitability. Fate. Whatever she called it, everything had led her to this moment with Nick. The day she’d buried Mike, she had felt as if she buried her heart with him. But here it was, fluttering in her chest with hope, respect, and desire—all for the man sitting beside her.
Oh, goodness. She was falling in love.
When had that happened?
Finally, another pop-up announced the completion of the operating system’s update. He flipped back over to the video player and clicked the button. An image of Walter Clifford’s office filled the screen. A little grainy, and the audio quality wasn’t great. But Mike stood behind the desk, looking up nervously at the camera.
Sasha gasped. It was hard to look at her late husband—his familiar movements and mannerisms. That face she’d know anywhere. The cowlick at the front of his pale hair. The remnants of the sunburn he’d gotten after washing their cars without putting on sunscreen the previous weekend.
“I’ll be goddamned. Mike…buddy.” Nick sounded choked up.
Sasha stifled tears and reached for his hand. “It’s him. Oh, my gracious. What is he doing?”
“Inexpertly setting up a hidden camera in his boss’s office. Damn it, Mike. Why didn’t you ask me to wire that place for you?”
“Maybe everything happened too fast?”
“Probably. And because the one time I visited your house, he noticed I couldn’t stop staring at you.” Nick looked sheepish. “I’m so damn sorry I wasn’t there.”
“Look at the date stamp.” She caught sight of it in the bottom right corner, a number that faded in, flashed a few times, then dwindled away. “Wasn’t that the day after you got arrested?”
Nick squinted at the numbers, then nodded. “It fucking is. He must have known that installing surveillance in Clifford’s office was dangerous. I got out two days later.” After the police had magically forgotten to allow him a phone call, and the Santiagos had come looking for him. Money talked, and theirs had helped him make bail quickly. “I would have handled it.”
By then, Mike’s fate had likely been sealed.
Sasha wasn’t even sure what to feel. Angry? Regretful? In the end, she settled for somewhere between sad and resigned since she couldn’t change the past. She could only move on from here. She would always miss her sweet, salt-of-the-earth husband.
But she was beginning to believe Nick Navarro might be her future.
Suddenly, Mike jolted and shoved something into a drawer, then hastily shut it before darting around the desk and heading toward the camera—and the office door. His footsteps sounded loud. As he crept closer to the camera, it picked up a sheen of sweat on his face and the nervous shift in his eyes.
“Damn it,” Nick murmured. “But this is my thing. He sucked at clandestine.”
She couldn’t disagree. Had the honesty she’d treasured in Mike been one of the qualities that led to his demise?
“Porter. What are you doing here?” said a faint voice belonging to someone out of the camera’s view. But Sasha knew exactly who it belonged to. She’d heard Walter Clifford speak too often not to recognize his gruff tones.
“Looking for you. I wanted to give you an update on the Ector case.”
“Later.” Clifford sounded dismissive. “I just came back from lunch, and I’m late for a conference call. See me at four.”
“Of course.” Mike all but bowed and scraped as he headed for the door.
Watching him leave the screen cramped Sasha’s stomach with a physical pain. He disappeared from the shot quickly, and it felt like losing him all over again. There would be no more of Mike’s movements or smiles or complaints on a Sunday morning that the most important political shows shouldn’t be airing when people should be in church. She wouldn’t see him rock his daughter, touch his smooth cheek, or hear him sing in the shower ever again.
He was simply gone.
“Shit,” Nick muttered beside her.
Sasha refocused on the screen and watched Clifford shuffle into view. Balding, portly, pushing sixty, he looked far more like someone’s grouchy grandfather than a corrupt politician and criminal mastermind. The man scowled and searched the room, seemingly suspicious, before he shook his head, plopped down behind his desk, and yanked the receiver of his phone to his ear.
Seconds later, he began hissing at whomever was on the other line. “Has Mike Porter been sneaking around your office?” After a pause, Clifford gripped the phone tighter. “Well, today is the third time I’ve found him snooping around mine. I don’t like it. I’m pretty sure he overheard us fixing the evidence in that criminal dumping case against that fucking oil driller. The moral stick up that church boy’s ass has become an antenna, and I haven’t been able to redirect him.” Again, another hesitation while the other party—probably a sheriff or police chief—spoke. “Fuck the money. We stand to lose our reputations and careers if Porter has evidence and he goes public.” Clifford swore. “Let me find out what he knows. If he’s onto us, I’ll make sure he can’t talk anymore.”
Beside her, Nick stiffened. And he looked at the screen like he hated Walter Clifford almost more than he could contain, like he had to swallow it down to keep it from spewing out, like he had to breathe through it or he might explode. Sasha understood that. The same furious incredulity spread through her. How dare that man leave a woman without her husband, a child without her father, a friend without his buddy? But he’d talked about murder so casually, so thoughtlessly—as if he’d done it before.
After another hesitation during which the cop must have mentioned another problem, the DA scowled. “Yeah? Keep that fucking P.I. Navarro in jail until we can figure out what he knows about my affairs. And for fuck’s sake, don’t tell the press who’s accused him of rape. They’ll start connecting the dots, and the whole thing will turn into a PR nightmare. My niece will crumble under the pressure. Fiona is a pretty girl…but not a bright one. We’ll get this fucker’s case rammed through fast. Find out who Navarro’s attorney is and put the screws to him. Make sure Judge Marburn presides when it gets to trial. He owes me. Don’t fuck this up.”
Sasha watched Nick, glanced at the screen for a moment, then back to the seething, dangerous man beside her again. Not only had Mike captured the evidence that might put away his murderer, he had also proven that Nick really had been framed.
His jaw clenched. He didn’t say anything for a moment, like he was too furious to speak without giving into his violent urge to kill Walter Clifford.
She lay a gentle hand on his forearm, trying to ease his tension. “We’ve got him. This should be enough to send him to prison for a long time.”
“You better fucking believe it. We need to figure out who to give this to. Who will make sure this evidence gets into the hands of someone with enough power to take Clifford down? Since he’s the one responsible for prosecuting crime in this parish, it won’t be simple. And you can bet he won’t prosecute himself. New Orleans isn’t my town, so I don’t know who to trust.”
“I’ve been thinking…” She gnawed on her lip and thought the idea through. It was risky, but doing nothing was deadly. “Make a copy of this on the hard drive. We need a backup.”
“Already done, and as soon as we hit some reasonably secure Wi-Fi, I’ll be sending it to the Santiago brothers for safekeeping. Their backup system is incredibly hack-proof, fireproof, and redundant. Now what?”
Sasha had never seen Nick any way except sure of himself and his direction. When she looked back, he’d done so much to help her, make sure she had a future. What if she could expunge his record and give them both the vengeance they sought? What if she could give him a happy future, too?
“Mike had this coworker Josh. He’s a sweet guy. A real crusader. He once got into hot water at work for listening to a defendant’s side of the story and wanting to drop all charges. In the end, Josh was right, the guy Clifford wanted to charge with the crime was innocent. I remember Mike coming home and shaking his head because their slimeball boss didn’t care that he might send an innocent man to prison. Clifford only cared that the police had no other suspects, so without this slam-dunk trial, his conviction rate didn’t look as dazzling.”
“Yeah.” Nick snorted. “No one knows better than me that he’s got a hard-on for sending the innocent up river. So this Josh guy can help?”
“I think so. After that incident, the mayor put him on a citywide crime task force. From what I can tell, he made a lot of high-powered friends. I’m betting if we contact Josh he can put us in touch with the right people. I mean, Josh and these folks went over Clifford’s head once. Why wouldn’t they do it again?”
Nick hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the gesture gaining strength the more he thought about it. “Yeah. You know how to reach Josh?”
“I think so. Let me double-check with some Internet searches.”
He thrust the computer in her direction. “Be quick. The laptop battery is dying. We need to plug this thing in.”
“Where? We checked out of our motel.”
“I’ll hunt down another one.” He grabbed his phone. “You find Josh.”
For a few silent minutes, they both scoured their respective devices. It didn’t take long to find Krandall, Joshua. She found a home address, no phone number. Of course, it was midday Monday, so he would likely be at the office. How could she reach him under Clifford’s nose?
“Got one,” Nick burst into the silence. “I found a motel right off Highway 61, not too far from the DA’s office. It’s a dive, not affiliated with a chain. Their website says they’ll take cash.”
Sasha conveyed her findings about Josh. “We might have to call his office and arrange something this evening.”
“Too risky. It’s damn likely all calls in and out of the DA’s office are recorded.”
Nick was right. “Then we may have to wait until he gets off work and drop by his house.”
At first, Nick scowled at the delay, but Sasha watched his thoughts working as he seemingly considered all their choices and possible outcomes. “All right. That gives us time to grab some more ammo and prep a game plan for approaching this guy. And a nap. I barely slept a fucking wink last night.”
Sasha hated to hear that. “Insomnia?”
Nick slanted a glance at her that silently asked if she was serious. “I can’t sleep next to you when I’d rather be inside you.”
She felt heat crawl up her cheeks…and swirl between her legs.
Of course he hadn’t rested. She’d had an amazing orgasm. And he hadn’t. No, that wasn’t quite true. He had given her a mammoth, earth-shaking, jaw-dropping, scream-worthy, life-changing cataclysm of pleasure. Then she’d allowed him to goad her into anger, and all thought of throwing herself at him again had fled.
Sasha felt more than vaguely guilty. She wished she’d given him pleasure in return instead.
“Then I’ll give you some space so you can rest. If you don’t mind, I’d like to drive by Josh’s place first, make sure he really still lives there. He’d actually just purchased a house shortly before Mike’s death, so chances are good but…”
“Let’s go.” Nick took the computer back from her hands as she navigated the traffic to Mid-City.
Thankfully, she didn’t need the GPS on his phone to remember Josh’s location. She and Mike had come here, hand in hand, to mingle with friends and celebrate new beginnings. Had that been a mere two years ago?
Sasha stopped in front of the starter home. It was long on charm, with brick steps, craftsman pillars, a wide porch, and what appeared to be original stained glass in the transom above the front door. However, the cottage was short on space, looking dwarfed by much bigger neighbors on either side. But it had been freshly painted, was well maintained, and had original hardwoods inside, as she recalled.
Nick sidled out of the SUV and opened the mailbox at the curb. “Empty.”
He headed to the side yard. Tucked against the fence, adjacent to the patchy concrete driveway, sat a huge plastic trash can and a recycle bin. He pretended to trip over the bin, nudging the lid off the squatty receptacle and spilling out most of the contents.
“What are you doing?” Sasha frowned.
“Double-checking.” He glanced around to ensure none of the neighbors were being nosy. But in this neighborhood, people worked. It seemed unlikely that anyone would be watering the flowers on their porch or taking their dog for a walk right now.
Sasha believed in respecting others’ privacy. She totally valued hers. But locating Josh quickly and quietly could well be life or death. “Find anything?”
After he bent to tuck away the newspapers and the empty, rinsed milk carton, he did an amazing imitation of someone picking up flyers, ads, and discarded envelopes without actually reading a word.
“Bingo. He still lives here. He tossed the water bill, presumably after he paid it, into the recycle bin.” Nick shook his head as if Josh had made a critical mistake.
Despite the tense situation, Sasha had to laugh. “He didn’t shred, so off with his head.”
The smile that spread across Nick’s full lips took her breath away. White teeth flashed against his olive complexion. His dark eyes sparked with something both funny and alive. He almost looked…happy. It was a breath-stealing sight.
“Okay, maybe not that severe but I believe in being careful. Identity theft is serious business. Why make those fuckers’ crimes easier?”
“You’re right.” She helped him put the last of the paper back into the bin. “So we’ll come back later?”
Before they could answer that question, a pretty redhead stepped out the front door, with a little white furball on a leash. She glanced warily at Nick. “Can I help you?”
Sasha stepped forward. “Are you Josh’s”—she looked at the woman’s bare left hand—“girlfriend?”
She shook her head, the ginger strands of her quirky bob swaying. “No. His dog walker. I’m Hannah. This is Monster.”
When the six-pound pup barked in a tone Sasha was sure he meant to be menacing, she tried not to smile.
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 shove 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 another 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.”
“You saying I should be getting busy with you instead?” He laughed.
She peppered kisses up his neck, along his jawline, and slanted her mouth under his. “Exactly.”
The woman surprised him all the time, and god, he loved that about her.
“Oh, baby. The next sounds in this room will be you screaming for me.”
A smile flitted across her lips before she hooked her arms around his neck and lifted herself to him, breasts pressed to his chest. He took her mouth.
Fuck, he could taste the love in her kiss. She’d only ever given herself to the man she had married. But she was surrendering to him now. Devotion flowed from her fingertips. Acceptance oozed from her soft palms, gliding onto his skin. She believed in him. Wanted him. Opened her heart to him.
Nick intended to make sure she spent forever with him.
Sasha’s fingertips whispered down the line of his spine before she cupped his ass and lifted her hips to him in a blatant invitation no man could misunderstand. He started to sweat.
Fuck taking things slow. That’s what next time was for.
“Sasha,” he groaned.
“I want you.” She looked into his eyes, hers so hazel-green and pleading.
“I want you, too, baby. I just need a condom.” And fuck if it wasn’t going to kill him to break away from her for even an instant for a dumbass piece of latex.
Wrenching up from the mattress, Nick found the box and tore into it, quickly ripping a foil square and rolling the slippery casing over his cock. The instant he finished, he launched himself back on top of her and captured her mouth again.
Beneath him, she whimpered and opened in welcome, knees bending to surround his hips. She poured her soul into the touch of her fingers and tangle of their tongues. “Hurry.”
His dick sure wanted him to, but he’d waited way too long for this woman to simply shove his way inside her and pound out an orgasm.
“As soon as we make a few things clear.” Because there was no way she was slipping through his fingers.
“What?” she sounded impatient. “You want to be in charge in bed.”
“Always. But that’s not—” He sighed. Damn, he needed to spit the words out. If she was going to argue…well, he knew how to coax her and change her fucking mind. Besides, he wasn’t asking. Sasha was his, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Once we eliminate Clifford, you’re marrying me. I know my past looks bad on paper but—”
“Yes.”
No arguments? “Really? You mean that?”
“You and I know well that life can be short. I love you. I’m sure. Why wait? Besides, little girls should have a strong father figure in their lives. Harper needs you to be hers. Mike chose you to take his place in my life. I’m sure he’d want you to help me raise Harper, too.”
Nick didn’t really get warm fuzzies much. But…damn it. Everything Sasha said filled him with a flurry. “You’re right. I’ll always watch over Harper, protect her. She needs siblings, too.”
“You want more children?”
“Fuck, yeah.” The thought of her belly swelling with the child he’d put inside there nearly undid him. “With you. Baby…I can’t wait.”
Sasha spread her legs wider. “Then don’t.”
“Yeah. Hold on.” It had been a long time for both of them. “This is going to be a rough ride.”
She sighed his name as if that didn’t upset her in the least and clutched his shoulders.
Gripping her hips, he dipped his head and nipped his way across her neck and the swells of her breasts—he’d come back here later—then probed her opening.
His head slid through her folds like butter. She was slick and tight and as close to heaven as he’d ever been.
She squeezed his arms in a passion-filled grip, as if braced for pleasure.
Nick held her tighter and breathed his way deeper inside her pussy.
As he did, she let a high-pitched cry loose from her throat.
He jerked his hips, stroking, desperate, on fucking fire to bury every inch inside her.
She clenched her thighs around his hips and urged him on even more.
He goddamn gave her everything, surging into her with a push and a rush until he couldn’t shove his way in any further.
She cried out, voice hoarse, fingernails embedding in his skin, perspiration covering her as he unleashed his desire and made her his.
With stroke after hard stroke, the bed squeaked. He wrenched gasps and moans from her lips. Bliss streaked fire through his body.
Jesus, he wasn’t going to last. It had been forever since he’d had sex, and he had never wanted a woman as fiercely as he wanted this one. Whatever he felt tearing through his veins and decimating his restraint wasn’t mere desire. This was unraveling his brain, changing the way he perceived ecstasy. It was rewriting his definition of pleasure.
Beneath him, she tightened—her grip around his shoulders, her legs around his hips, and her sweet pussy all over his weeping cock.
Fuck, he needed her to come with him now.
Nick reached a thumb between them and dragged it over her clit. Her harsh breaths stuttered. She tossed her head back and forth. Her little pearl hardened beneath his touch.
“No…”
“Yeah, baby. You fucking come for me now.”
“It’s…so…”
“Good? Let it go. Fucking scream it.”
She tensed, her body arched, her rosy little mouth bowed into an O. And she wailed his name at the top of her lungs as she spasmed, clenched, and climaxed with her entire body.
Nick knew that would never get old for him.
It was the last thought he had before the pleasure steamrolled him and he lost his damn mind, emptying himself into her as she undid him and took hold of his heart forever.
Into the silence punctuated only by their panting, he clutched her tight.
“What was that?” She sounded as stunned as he felt.
“Not just sex.” He knew the difference. Nick was pretty sure what they’d just shared had unraveled his brain, rewired him for her and her alone, and remade him into a committed man. “But next time will be better.”
“How?” Her gaze was stunned, as if she couldn’t even think of a way their sex could remotely improve.
He grinned. “I’ll be slower. I’ll have more control, I promise.”
“Why bother?” She sighed. “That was so damn amazing.”
He’d never once heard her swear. Hearing her so emphatic now made him laugh. “How about if I promise it will be someplace nicer?”
Sasha grimaced. “That, I would love.”
“You got it, baby. You’ve got me. Always. I love you.”
“As crazy as it sounds, I love you too, Nick. Let’s catch a bad guy and live happily ever after.”
He didn’t think Walter Clifford intended to make things quite that easy, but he didn’t want to worry Sasha, so he just nodded. “Absolutely.”