Chapter Fourteen

“So do you believe her? That she wasn’t involved with the bombing?” Malcolm asked Rowan as he drove them back to his place. The first thing he’d said to her since leaving DEA headquarters ten minutes ago.

Glad that the stony silence was broken, she answered honestly. “At this point I don’t know what to think.”

Every time she thought of Oceane or Anya being part of this nightmare, a fresh rush of fury shot through her veins. But as far as Rowan could tell, Oceane’s reaction to the question of involvement had been real, and so had her surprise about the bombing. Either that, or she was the best damn actress Rowan had ever seen. The FBI was going to polygraph her and her mother, so if either of them was lying, they’d find out soon enough.

But someone had tipped off the Veneno cartel that Oceane and her mother had been meeting with Rowan and her boss. If not Oceane or her mother, then who?

Adding to her irritation, Malcolm remained polite but remote, acting like they were mere acquaintances forced to spend time together, when last night he’d practically set her on fire with his kisses. Part of her was too exhausted and overwhelmed with everything else to attempt to break through the wall he’d put up between them. But another, larger part was desperate for him to let her in.

“We’ll get some answers soon,” he said.

“Not soon enough for my liking.” She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye as he drove. His left hand was on the steering wheel, his right forearm on the center armrest between them. If she reached for his hand, would he yank it away? She couldn’t take that kind of blatant rejection right now.

Where did she stand with him? He wanted her physically, but that was all? She couldn’t believe that. Not after all he’d done for her the past few days, the way he’d stepped up and volunteered to keep her safe. If it had only been physical for him, he could easily have brushed her off. So it had to run deeper than that.

She wracked her brain for the rest of the drive, trying to figure out where to go from here.

He opened the door for her and she walked inside, kicking her heels off and heading straight for the hallway, intending to go to her room and shut herself away for some privacy until she decided what to do about her and Malcolm.

The door locked behind her. Her stride faltered.

No.

The word reverberated in her head, so loud and clear it startled her, stopping her there at the start of the hallway.

Her entire body was on edge, all her emotions a chaotic, roiling mass in her chest. Seeing Kevin today, battered and far worse for wear but deeply in love with his partner despite their father’s obvious disapproval, had solidified something for her. For too long she’d lived her life towing the nearly unattainable line to gain his approval. His love.

That wasn’t love; it was a form of hostage situation.

For years she’d focused solely on school, then work, all in a pathetic and misguided attempt to make him love her. In the process she’d given up everything else, barely making time for her family, hardly ever seeing her friends, and had no one to come home to at night.

Now, outside of work, she really had no life. And when a good man like Malcolm had come along, what had she done? Shoved him away because she hadn’t known what to do with him and panicked like a frightened child. Worse, she hadn’t even recognized it for what it truly was until Malcolm had forced her to confront the truth last night.

She was no coward. And she was sick and tired of living a half-life, denying herself the chance of happiness when the only man she wanted was right behind her. Literally standing there behind her, and he not only was still attracted to her, he must still care about her on some level or he wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.

Heart pounding, Rowan screwed up her courage and spun around to face him. Malcolm froze in the act of shrugging out of his shoulder holster, his body preternaturally still as he met her stare. Watching her warily, correctly reading her intent.

Just the sight of him set her pulse racing. And God it was sexy, knowing that he’d willingly placed himself between her and any danger to her safety.

Her bare feet were almost silent on the hardwood floor as she walked toward him, her steps slow, measured. Without breaking eye contact he slowly set his holster on the kitchen counter. His posture was tense, his expression unreadable as he watched her.

She walked right up to him, ignoring the quiver of uncertainty in her gut. It was time to be bold, take what she wanted, and go from there.

“Rowan…” he began in a warning tone.

She ignored that too, reaching up to curl a hand around his nape as she lifted on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his, the need to restore their connection obliterating everything else. His lips were smooth and firm beneath hers, the shape of them so familiar as she poured her feelings into the kiss.

Malcolm resisted for a second, then made a deep, dark sound and plunged his hands into her hair, his mouth slanting over hers as he took control of the kiss.

Rowan moaned in combined pleasure and relief, letting the sensations cascade through her. At least he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

The kiss was all heat and hunger, his tongue stroking hers with urgent need. He was hot and hard all over, the unmistakable ridge of his erection stretching the front of his jeans. No more waiting. She was finally going to do all the things she’d fantasized about him over the past year. Explore the kind of intimacy she’d craved but had been too afraid to risk.

Her free hand curled around the sculpted contour of his muscled shoulder, the coiled strength beneath her fingers making her dizzy with arousal. She’d meant to turn him, flip their positions and press him back against the island to take control back, but her brain short-circuited the moment he fisted a hand in her hair and pulled her head back, his wicked mouth sliding over the sensitive skin at the side of her neck.

Before she could gather a single coherent thought, he locked an arm around her hips and popped her off her feet, carrying her a few steps to the nearest wall where he pinned her with the strength and weight of his body.

A shaky, startled moan bubbled out of her at the raw show of dominance. Before, he’d kept this side of him tempered, hiding it beneath a hot tenderness that she’d enjoyed, but ultimately had left her frustrated. This was what she’d sensed beneath the surface. This forceful and passionate side of him was what she’d been craving all along.

Now she couldn’t get close enough. Rowan grabbed hold of his wide shoulders for balance, frustrated by her snug skirt as she fought to wind her legs around his hips.

Malcolm captured her jaw in one hand, bringing her eyes to his. His burned with a primal light that made her shiver. “I didn’t want to want you anymore,” he rasped out, his jaw taut with residual anger or resentment.

Her heart stuttered, the fear of rejection rising sharply, but then immediately covered her mouth with his, his tongue plunging between her lips in a claiming that sent a hot bolt of arousal through her. The fear receded.

She met him stroke for stroke, arching into his body, every nerve ending fizzing like champagne. She was already wet, aching for him, her breasts swollen and sensitive, rubbing her hips against him to ease the ache between her thighs.

Breathing hard, Malcolm lifted his head a moment later to stare down at her with molten chocolate eyes. “But I can’t keep my hands off you,” he half-growled, his voice laced with accusation.

“Good.” It was a start. Something she could use to crack through his defenses. He stilled, his body going rigid as she slid one hand down his chest, over his clenched abdomen, watching his eyes. Then lower, to the thick bulge in his jeans. She had to reach him, had to touch his heart, and if this was the only way he’d allow it to happen, then she would take it.

He sucked in a sharp breath that sounded almost tortured. “Fuck. Rowan.” He dropped his head to the side of her neck, his ragged breaths hot against her skin. Fighting his need.

She wouldn’t allow it. Wouldn’t allow him to shut her out or turn away now.

Unwinding her legs, she let her feet slide to the floor to give her more room, her mouth busy nipping at the edge of his taut jaw, the pulse hammering in his throat. A low, warning growl rumbled up from his chest when she slid the button at the top of his fly undone. But he made no move to stop her.

Emboldened, she slid her hand beneath the denim, inside the cotton of his underwear to grasp his hard, thick length. He was hot in her hand, swollen to bursting.

His breath halted, his hips surging forward when she squeezed him, dragging a helpless moan from somewhere deep in his chest. She’d imagined this moment so many times, couldn’t wait to feel him inside her, filling her, taking away the empty feeling and replacing it with pleasure.

The sound of their quickened breathing filled the air. He pulsed in her grip, triggering an answering empty ache between her legs. She continued kissing his neck, dragging her tongue up the side as she stroked him with her fist, remembering how he liked it. They’d done this before, a long time ago in a heated rush in the front seat of his truck, but there were so many other things she’d wanted to do to him and never gotten the chance. Tonight, she wasn’t stopping until she had all of him.

Malcolm stood stock still before her, his chest rising and falling with each rapid breath while she worked him, her other hand shoving his T-shirt up so that her mouth could slide over the flexed power of his pecs. She paused to dart her tongue across one tight nipple, dragging another groan out of him, sucked lightly before trailing down, down, sinking to her knees in front of him, her back and hips bolstered by the wall.

Nipping at the tense muscles in his abdomen, she glanced up at his face. He stared down at her with an expression of pure masculine hunger, his flexed forearms braced on the wall, hands knotted into fists.

He wanted this. So badly that he couldn’t pull away now. Clearly fighting the need to shove his pants down, grab her head and bring her mouth to him. She didn’t want him to fight it.

Her heart thundered against her ribs as she held his gaze and reached up to grasp his left arm, pulling it down. When it was level with her head she turned her face into his hand and nuzzled him, rubbing her hot cheek against his palm.

Telling him without words what she wanted, she set his hand on her hair and tugged the denim and cotton down, freeing the thick length of his erection to her ravenous gaze.

Malcolm hissed in a breath and tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging at her scalp, the slight burn increasing the tension humming between them. Breaking his gaze at last, she curled her fingers around the wide base and parted her lips as she bent to him, determined to mark him, drive him out of his mind with pleasure.

Slowly, slowly she closed her lips around the swollen crown of his cock. His fist clenched in her hair, the muscles in his thighs and belly locking tight. A heady wave of feminine power and arousal sizzled under her skin.

He let out a low, strangled groan, the feel of her hot mouth engulfing him making that powerful body shudder. The scent of his soap, the salty taste of his arousal filled her senses.

God, she loved this. Loved going down on him, making him insane.

His thigh tensed beneath her left palm as she closed her eyes and slid her mouth down on him, taking as much of him as she could, her tongue stroking, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. A ragged sound of pleasure tore from his throat.

He tightened his hold on her hair, pulling, forcing her to slide up his shaft before locking her head in place and surging his hips forward, driving back into her willing mouth. Rowan whimpered and shifted restlessly around the ache of arousal between her thighs, reaching around to grab his tight ass with her free hand, sucking him eagerly, unable to get enough.

“Oh yeah, sweetness, more.” The deep, dark timbre of his voice was like a caress to her senses, the approval and enjoyment creating a melting sensation inside her. But sweetness. That was something only he had ever called her, and it made her believe she might be breaking through the barrier around his heart.

Sliding back up his length, she opened her eyes to watch his reaction as she tightened her mouth and twirled her tongue around the sensitive crest of his head. Bracing his free arm against the wall, Malcolm propped his forehead on his clenched fist and took what she so willingly offered, sliding in and out of her mouth. Low, almost inaudible groans filled her ears, mixing with the thud of her heart.

He couldn’t stop this now, he was too far-gone. She wanted him riding the edge of his control, ready to explode.

Fighting for control, he squeezed his fist in her hair, slowly withdrew from her mouth. She released his shaft to grab his ass with both hands and tried to lean forward to take him back in, but he wouldn’t let her, instead dragging her up and wedging her against the wall. He was so damn hard, his entire body strung taut, and she wanted to push him over the brink.

But Malcolm fused their mouths together before she could utter a single protest, claiming her mouth as she wanted him to claim her body. Needed him to.

The buttons on her blouse popped free when he tugged the two halves apart, and he broke the kiss long enough to drink in the sight of her breasts encased in ivory satin and lace, her hard nipples pressing against the fabric. With a hungry sound he hauled her higher up the wall, lifting her off her feet to bury his face between her breasts.

She gasped and arched her back, pushing into his face, his searching mouth, the faint stubble on his cheeks and jaw abrading her pleasantly. Impatient, he yanked the cups of the bra down, revealing her tight pink nipples that made him groan.

He flicked his tongue over one, teasing it while she moaned and twisted in his grip. Malcolm held her in place while her fingers bit into his shoulders, his scalp. Holding on for dear life while the world spun around her. Finally he darted his tongue over one sensitive peak, rolling around that sensitive flesh before at last closing his lips around it.

She made a mewling sound and panted, straining in his arms as he suckled. All too soon he switched to the other, using his weight to hold her to the wall, seeming to revel in her every little cry, each desperate gasp, while he trailed his right hand down her ribs to the bare skin of her inner thigh, exposed by the hem of her skirt he’d hiked up.

Rowan bit her lip and closed her eyes, dying a little as she waited for the touch she needed more than the air to breathe.

Firm, deft fingers slid over the damp lace covering her core, tugged the center aside to slide beneath to the wet, soft folds awaiting him. “God, you’re soaking wet,” he breathed, pressing his scalding hot cock to her bare thigh at the evidence of her arousal.

Rowan whimpered in response, unable to speak, fighting to roll her hips against his hand with the limited space he’d given her, needing more than he was delivering. She wanted him with every fiber in her being. Wanted to know she wasn’t alone in her feelings for him.

Then he pulled his hand free.

No!

He snaked a steely arm around her hips, smothered her babbled protests with another hot, searing kiss as he shoved her skirt all the way up to her waist. Tongue tangled with hers, he reached between them to grab the side of her panties and yanked, tearing the flimsy fabric.

She shuddered and moaned, shifting her legs to wind them tighter around his hips, opening herself to him completely as she ripped her mouth free. “Please, I need—”

“Shh.” With one hand he dove into his pocket for his wallet, managed to drag out the condom before it fell to the floor.

He ripped it open with his teeth, let her take it from him and reach between them to smooth it down his hot length. Gritting his jaw as she gave him a slow, firm stroke with her fist, his eyes went heavy-lidded, that luscious mouth mere inches from her own.

Ready to beg for what she wanted, Rowan held on tight and wiggled her hips, rubbing the open folds of her sex along his taut abdomen. He made a rough sound and held her tighter against the wall, then levered her up enough to nestle the length of his cock in her tender folds. Rowan caught her breath at the heat of him, licked her lips and stared down into his eyes, her body tensed. Waiting.

Now. Please now…

Malcolm held the rest of his body absolutely still as he eased the weight of his torso off her slightly, allowing gravity to do the work. Mesmerized, Rowan held his gaze while the hot, thick head of his cock eased into her. She bit back a groan, her eyes widening a little at the breadth of him.

A flare of alarm flashed through her as she eased down farther, her body opening, stretching to the slow, heavy pressure. She grabbed hold of his shoulders, her body automatically tensing as the pressure turned into a burning. A soft, plaintive sound came out of her and she pushed up on his shoulders with her hands, trying to escape.

His arm tightened around her hips, a steely band that allowed no quarter. “No,” he ground out, his voice ragged, features tense. “Take it.”

Rowan froze at the low command, the erotic edge to it. Her heart thundered beneath her ribs. He didn’t just want her body. He wanted her surrender.

And she wanted to give him both, she realized with startled insight.

Gazing down into his eyes, she drew a deep breath, then deliberately relaxed. Surrendering to him. Allowing her body to open for him, for her weight to sink down on him.

This slow, intimate penetration was so much more than sex. Twice as hot, so fucking good she could barely breathe. He watched her the whole time, seeming just as transfixed as he filled her, inch by aching inch. Pushing through her body’s lingering resistance. Branding and claiming her as his own.

When he was buried inside her to the hilt, claiming total possession of her, Rowan sucked in a breath and shuddered. Her inner muscles fluttered around him, fighting to adjust to the thick intrusion, the burn fading slightly but the unsatisfied ache more intense than ever.

Unable to articulate what she was feeling, afraid for him to see her stripped so bare, she dropped her head onto his shoulder and turned her face into his neck as she clung for dear life.