Carter leaned over Bree’s back as he stroked in and out of her, slowly, almost lazily. They’d been in his office the better part of two hours, and he’d already taken her three times. No matter how many times he came, no matter how sated he believed himself to be, she’d touch him or kiss him or whisper some sweet nothing in his ear, and he’d be rock hard once more and buried deep.

Bree grunted as he thrust in harder, and he worried that perhaps he was hurting her.

“Sore?”

She shook her head in quick denial. “Don’t stop. I’m fine.”

Carter kissed the back of her neck, even as he knew she was lying. “Bree. We have time. All of it.”

“Keep going.”

He had never responded to a woman’s demands until her.

Until her, he would have said hell would freeze over before that happened. He had discovered his dominant streak in high school, and his need for absolute control had only grown since then.

“Bree,” he whispered in warning, though he didn’t stop moving, stop thrusting. He couldn’t.

Her orgasm—he’d lost count of how many she’d had—struck hard and fast, neither of them expecting it. Her inner muscles clenched against his cock, and he was helpless to resist his own climax.

He remained inside her for several minutes afterward. She lay so quiet and still he thought she’d fallen asleep.

“I’m never going to get enough of you,” she said, her voice husky, sexy as fuck.

Carter pushed himself upright, though it took some effort. Bree remained facedown, draped over his desk, naked, sweaty, gorgeous, as he dropped into his chair, feeling some painful effects of their efforts in his own stiff muscles.

Somewhere between their second and third time, they’d stripped each other of all their clothing, various articles scattered around his office.

“Let’s get dressed and I’ll take you home.”

“That sounds—” Her cell phone rang before she could finish her response. She forced herself to stand, then rummaged through the purse she’d set on his desk after they’d arrived in his office. She pulled it out, her fingers clumsy, and she almost dropped it.

He started to tell her to ignore it, but something in her expression as she looked at the screen alarmed him.

“Bree?” he started, but she shook her head as she clicked to answer.

“Hello?”

Carter listened with growing concern as Bree’s demeanor changed. Whatever exhaustion she’d been suffering appeared to have vanished. She began picking up her clothes in sudden panic.

“How? When? I thought—” she said to the person on the other end. “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him since the sentencing.”

Carter frowned and rose as well, dressing as she listened, then responded, “Donovan’s Bar. West Forty-fifth.”

Finally, she said, “I understand. I will,” and hung up.

“What’s going on, Bree?” he asked.

“Ronnie.”

“Your stepfather?”

She nodded, looking shell-shocked.

“What is it? What happened?”

“He escaped from prison.”

Carter went on instant alert as Bree kept rambling, her terror growing with each passing second. “They don’t know where he is. He was being transferred from one facility to another due to overcrowding. The bus transporting him crashed. He got out, got away from the guards.”

“When was the accident? Where?” Carter didn’t like how pale she’d gone.

“Upstate. This morning.”

“And they’re only just now calling to let you know?” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, especially when she jumped. “Jesus, Bree.” He reached out and pulled her toward him, holding her tight in his embrace.

“They wanted to know if I thought he’d come here. If he’d come after me.”

Carter knew the answer to that question, but he didn’t share his opinion. Bree already appeared to be in the early stages of shock.

“I told them I don’t know. I mean, he was enraged after the trial.”

That was an understatement. Her stepfather had looked her straight in the eye after her testimony and told her he would kill her if it was the last thing he ever did. It was that threat—made in the presence of the jury and the judge—that had sealed his fate.

Ronnie Bertrand was a crazy son of a bitch who placed no value on human life, especially not his wife or stepdaughters. Bree, a private person, had never told him the atrocities she’d endured growing up. He’d never heard any of those horrible stories until she was on the stand. Carter’s admiration and respect for her strength grew a million times that day as he listened to one of the strongest women he’d ever known open up about things she’d shut away for years, in hopes of finding justice for her family.

“There’s a chance he just saw a shot at freedom and took it, right?” she asked, hopefully. “He wouldn’t risk that to come after me.”

Carter wasn’t betting her safety on that. “Until he’s captured again, we’re going into hiding. Together. I don’t want you more than two steps away from me at any time.”

“That’s going to make bathroom breaks challenging.”

He laughed. Bree might get knocked down, but damn if she stayed down long. Her indomitable spirit was already combating the disbelief and fear of a few minutes earlier.

“We’re going to get married sooner rather than later, so we might as well knock down all the walls. Total intimacy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you? A few mind-blowing orgasms aren’t going to pave your way to the altar. I expect to be completely wooed and wowed and won over.”

“So noted.” Carter helped her finish dressing. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

“We can’t. I told the police officer we would wait here. They’re sending a guard to—” Bree’s phone rang again.

“It’s the prosecutor who put Ronnie away. Hello?”

Bree frowned as she listened for a moment. “I know. Someone from the prison just called and told me.”

Carter felt his unease grow when she said, “What do you mean no one called?” There was a pause. “The phone was stolen?”

“We’re getting out of here,” Carter said, grabbing the cell from her. “We’ll call you back,” he said to the person on the other end.

Then he disconnected the call as her eyes widened. “What the hell did you just do?”

“Who made the first call?”

Her hands trembled as she pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Ronnie stole a prison cell phone from one of the guards. The caller ID came up as Sing Sing. I thought the voice sounded… But I haven’t heard it in so long… I thought my mind was playing tricks on…”

“You told him where you were. We’re leaving. Now.” Instinct was nature’s true north and his was telling him to beat a hasty retreat.

Carter reached into his desk drawer, pulling out the Kimber he kept there for protection from anyone who might try to rob the bar. He had his concealed carry permit, and he was fully prepared to pull the trigger if Ronnie got within a hundred feet of Bree.

“A gun?” she whispered.

“Yeah. Bought it the week after the bar opened. Always thought it would be used to prevent a robbery.”

“Have another one for me?”

He grinned despite his alarm. “You trained?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“I wish I did. We’ll go out the back. My car is parked there.” He rummaged through a box on the floor in the corner and tugged out a woman’s scarf. “Lost and found,” he explained. “Put this over your head and keep your eyes down. I want your face concealed as much as possible.”

“We can’t go to your place, Carter. I just told him I was here. He’s going to know I’m with you. God, I shouldn’t have come back. I’ve put you in danger.”

Carter gripped her upper arms, forcing her to look him directly in the eye. “You are exactly where you’re supposed to be. Don’t you even think of trying to slip away to protect me. Believe me, you do that and you won’t have to worry about your stepfather finding you. You’ll have to worry about me.”

He punctuated that vow with a hard kiss. Then he led her to the alley that ran behind the bar. Mercifully, he’d parked his car feet from the back door. They were inside without issue or threat within seconds. They rode in silence as he fought his way through New York City traffic. Ordinarily, he didn’t drive to work, opting to take the subway instead. But his plan when he left his house earlier was to hit 220 after work. It looked like that was still the plan.

God help him when Bree realized where he was taking her.

Once they hit lower Manhattan, traffic lightened and he became more aware of Bree. She looked the picture of cool, calm, and collected, except for the fact her hands were clenched together white-knuckle fashion in her lap.

“It’s going to be okay, Bree.”

She nodded but didn’t respond, so he didn’t bother to say more. He was working overtime to mimic her fake poise as well. He wouldn’t take another deep breath until he had her secured inside the club.

No. Scratch that. He wouldn’t relax until her stepfather was back behind bars.

As they pulled into the parking lot of the club, Bree’s curiosity won out over her fear.

“Where are we?”

“You’ll see in a second. Put the scarf back over your head.”

She complied, and he led her from the car to the club with haste. While it had its own parking, there was no sign denoting the large building as a place of business. Walking up the dozen or so steps, it looked more like they were entering a large brownstone as opposed to one of the most exclusive clubs in the city.

Carter placed his thumb on a keypad and the first door opened. Members gained entrance to the foyer through fingerprint.

Roger McMillan, dressed head to toe in black, was standing alone in the elegant foyer, next to the elevator. “Good evening, Mr. Donovan. I wondered if we were going to see you tonight.”

Carter walked over to the ex-military man and leaned closer. “We’re on full lockdown.”

Roger paused for a split second before responding. “Weapons?”

Carter nodded. “Call in anyone who isn’t already working. I want two men stationed here and at the back exit until further notice. The guests who are already here can leave, but no one else comes in tonight—member or not. Shut down the keypad.”

“Yes, sir.” Roger was the head of security at the club. They’d set up a certain set of safety parameters to protect the membership, but they’d never had to go to full lockdown. Even now, he could see Roger looking at Bree curiously, wondering if tonight’s excitement was because of her.

Roger pushed the button to the elevator for them. As they waited, Carter turned back to the security guard. “I’ll text you and the others a picture of the man we’re working to keep out, once I get upstairs. If you see him, batten down the hatches and call the police chief directly. Don’t engage unless absolutely necessary. You should consider this man armed and extremely dangerous.”

Roger nodded, his fierce expression proving Carter had been right to hire him.

Once they were inside the elevator, Bree looked at him. “You own this place?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

Carter took a deep breath. The answer to that was going to be obvious in about twenty seconds, when the elevator hit the next floor. “You’ll see.”