Chapter 5
Blake was silent as they drove away from Vigilance. Sam knew he was still digesting Avery’s news about Annemarie. She thought about swinging by Fresh Roasted for their special coffee, then wondered if maybe a slug of bourbon was more in line with what Blake really wanted. It was obvious Annemarie’s death had been a real blow to him.
He blew out a breath. “I have to get my head screwed on right. I owe it to my readers. And I don’t want to be in a position of making excuses for my piss poor attitude.”
“Be glad you’ve got some time to digest all of this. And maybe before you have to leave we’ll have all the answers.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” he grunted.
Sam reached over and gave his arm a squeeze, and nearly jerked her hand back at the jolt of electricity that simple contact created.
We’re taking it slow, she reminded herself. Seeing what’s really there. But with each passing minute she was afraid she’d be the one to break the rules rather than Blake.
“I need to make a stop at my place first,” she said. “Just long enough to pack a suitcase and get some other things I’m going to need. And don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ve learned how to travel light.”
At the little cottage where she lived she insisted Blake come in.
He frowned but followed her inside. “You don’t really think whoever this is will do something to harm me if I wait in the car, do you?”
“No, because I don’t believe he’s even halfway through his little game.” She shook her head. “I can promise you he’s got a lot more tricks up his sleeve, and probably a spectacular finale.” She waved at an easy chair. “Have a seat. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Something to look forward to.” Blake dropped into the chair, leaned back and closed his eyes. “I just wish I knew what the fuck I did that was so terrible it prompted something like this.”
“It could be something so insignificant you’d never think of it,” she called from her bedroom. “Let me get everything together here. When we get to your place, we’ll do a little mental exercise I learned a while ago and see if we can dig anything out of your memories.”
“You think I haven’t tried to do that?” he snapped.
“I’m sure you have,” she soothed.
She did not want to get him riled up. He was dealing with enough as it was, but she was sure somewhere hidden in the recesses of his brain was the trigger for this whole thing. Checking to make sure she had what she needed, she closed her suitcase, zipped it shut, and carried it to the living rom. Next came her laptop with its carrying case and the little gizmos she kept in there, like thumb drives if she needed them. She gathered up her cords and charger, stuck them in the case and zipped it shut.
“Okay.” She smiled at Blake. “Done. Let’s get going.”
“Already? I thought Annemarie was the only woman who could pack that fast.”
“Six years in the military trains you good. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“I forgot you were in the military.” Blake pounced on that as soon as they were back in the car. “Military police, if I recall what Avery told me.”
“For part of it. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one of these nights.” Or maybe not.
She glanced at him again, not happy with the pinched look on his face or the tension vibrating from his body. Without saying anything she decided a trip to Fresh Roasted and its companion store, Fresh from the Oven, was in order after all.
“You don’t need to do this, Sam. I’m good. I’m not a kid who needs a trip to the candy store to take the edge off.”
But he looked like someone who had been run over.
“Then it’s for me, and I’ll share. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
When she returned he was sitting rigid in the front seat, eyes staring straight ahead.
“You think he’s watching us right now?”
“If he is, let’s not give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s got you on edge. Here.” She handed him one of the go cups. “This should help steady you. Their coffee will fix just about anything.”
“Unnecessary but thanks.” He blew on it to cool it a little before taking a swallow.
“No problem.” She put the muffins on the console. “For later.”
She backed out of the parking spot and headed toward the Morgan house. Again they rode in silence. When they got to the house and were settled in, she vowed to make him talk about this situation with Annemarie. She knew her death was devastating. But she needed him on full alert if they were to figure out how to deal with this maniac.
“I’ll check to see if there’s room in the garage for your car,” he told her when they pulled into the driveway. “I don’t know if they took one of their cars and left it in Tampa when they boarded the cruise ship or not. Let’s get inside so I can check.”
But he sat for a moment in the car, just staring at the house. Sam wondered what was going through his mind. Was he glad to be back here, even under the circumstances? He’d said he was glad to be here with her. She wished she could trust his feelings. And hers. She wanted to trust them, because holy hell, she wanted him in the worst way.
At last, with a sigh, he climbed out of the car, grabbed his suitcase and messenger bag and carried them up to the porch. She followed right behind him, waiting while he pulled out his key ring and unlocked the door. She had always loved this house, even when she wanted to kill Blake. With its wide porch and decorative shutters, it had the same Key West look as Vigilance and many of the other houses in Arrowhead Bay.
“Let me go in first,” Sam told him, nudging him aside.
“Why? This is my parents’ home. Surely you don’t think he’d do something here?”
“I think this person has no boundaries. Besides, I’m not taking any chances with your safety. Wait right here.”
She pulled a gun from the small of her back and eased into the house. Ignoring her orders, Blake followed in right behind her. He dropped his stuff on the floor of the foyer.
“Even though I don’t live here anymore,” he told Sam, “it still feels like home.”
“That says a lot about your parents, but I thought I told you to wait outside.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. Besides, he’s had plenty of chances to kill me if he wanted to.”
“I hear you, but—” She had turned and taken two steps into the living room when she stopped short. “Shit.”
“What is it?” Blake pushed her aside. “Fuck, Sam. I can’t believe this. Damn it all to hell!”
Every visible surface of the room had a white sheet of paper on it. She walked over to one of them and stared down at it.
I know what you did and you’ll be punished for it.
Oh, God. The anguished look on his face shot straight to her heart.
“Don’t touch anything,” she told him. “I’ve got this. Go in the kitchen and sit down while I check the rest of the house. I mean it, Blake. I don’t want to have to worry about you. Then I’m calling Avery.”
He took two steps in that direction, then came to such an abrupt stop she barely avoided colliding with him.
“Shit. Sam, come here and see this. I do not believe he did this.”
What now, she thought, and looked at the spot on the floor where he was pointing. Centered on a plain sheet of the same paper were shards of what had once been a statue or some other china piece.
She wasn’t sure what she was looking at, except the broken pieces of a knickknack. When she rested her hand on his shoulder she could feel his tension vibrating. “What is it?”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s a Lladró statue my mother got when she and my father took a trip to Spain. She collects things like this. God. How the hell am I going to tell her about this? She loves this stuff.” He looked closer. “There’s a piece of paper in the center of it wadded up in a tiny ball.”
He started to reach for it but she yanked his hand back.
“Leave it. I’m calling Vigilance and getting a team over here.”
Sam checked everything, including the linen closet, grateful she didn’t find anyone or anything. Then she put her gun away and walked into the kitchen where Blake was sitting in a chair at the table, head in hands.
“Who the fuck is doing this?” He sounded as much bewildered as mad. “And why? I swear, Sam, I’ve never done anything to hurt anyone. At least not knowingly. Certainly not anything that merits this kind of reaction.”
Again she lifted her phone to make her call, but before she could hit the speed dial number the signal for an incoming call rang. The Vigilance number popped up on her screen.
“Yeah, Avery? I was just about—”
“Where are you?” Avery interrupted.
“At the Morgans’.” Sam frowned. “Why?”
“We’ve got a big problem, Sam. We’re no longer dealing with just a stalker here. This guy just upped his game in a major way.”
“What do you mean?” Sam tightened her grip on the cell.
“Just listen and don’t repeat anything I say until you hear it all. I had let Sheri know about Blake, since we really don’t know what this stalker is going to do. About an hour ago she got a call from Sharon Kennelly. She and her husband live in the house behind the Morgans. Sharon came home after a late lunch with friends and found her husband beaten unconscious in the back yard. Sam, he’s in pretty bad shape. Sheri called me as soon as she got to the scene. She’s convinced it has something to do with Blake’s situation. It’s all just too coincidental.”
“I see.” Sam kept her voice under control so she wouldn’t send any signals to Blake. She glanced out one of the back windows toward the Kennellys’ house. “Is that what all those people are in the back yard for?”
“Yes. EMTs took Grant to the hospital right away. He was unconscious and they said he was lucky he wasn’t dead he was in such bad shape. Sheri sent one of her officers with them and he took Sharon Kennelly. He’ll stay on site guarding Grant until we assess the situation. I don’t want to leave the man unprotected. He’ll also try to get a statement if Grant regains consciousness before Sheri gets there.”
“I hear you.” She was aware of Blake coming up behind her now now, could almost feel his eyes boring holes in her back. “I was just about to call you, anyway. You need to get someone over here. Now. Our mysterious friend broke in here and decorated the living room with a slew of messages. And this time he’s added a little something to it.”
“Like what?”
“Like some personalized damage. Can you get someone here to print the place and bag the stuff?”
“I’d bet money Grant Kennelly spotted him somehow, went to see what was going on and the stalker attacked him. Hold on.” Sam heard voices in the background, then Avery came back on the phone again. “Sheri’s still there and I’m coming, too. Oh, and find out when Blake’s parents are expected back. We’ll station someone at the house until this thing is taken care of.”
“I’ll see you when you get here.”
Sam disconnected and shoved the phone in her pocket. Blake was staring outside at the activity.
“What’s going on, Sam?” His voice was tight with tension. “What’s happened now? If it has to do with me, I want to know.”
“That was Avery. She’s on her way over.”
“For this?” He pointed toward the living room. “This doesn’t seem like something she’d need to see for herself.” When she didn’t say anything, he growled, “Come on, Sam. Tell me. We can’t have any secrets here. What the hell is going on? And why are there people all over the Kennellys’ back yard? Did she happen to say anything about that?”
Sam took a deep breath. “Let’s sit down at the table for a minute.”
“I’m fine standing,” he snapped. “Just spit it out.”
She studied his face, checking to make sure he wasn’t about to fall apart. “We think that when your stalker broke into this house to do his damage, your neighbor in the back saw him and went to check on him. Blake, he was beaten up pretty badly. According to the EMTs, it’s a miracle he isn’t dead.”
“What?” Every bit of color drained from his face and his eyes widened in shock. It took him a minute to speak. “Grant Kennelly was beaten nearly to death? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Sam was afraid he might pass out. She had to fight the urge to throw her arms around him, press her body to his and whisper soothing words in his ear. To give him comfort the best way she knew, except this was neither the time nor the place. But she was pleased when he reached for her hand and gripped it tightly.
Sam shook her head. “Sheri got the call about an hour ago. She’ll be over here in a minute, as soon as Avery arrives. She’ll tell you all about it.”
“Where is he? I want to see him.” He started toward the door.
Sam held up a hand to stop him. “He’s at County General. And you can’t see him for a couple of very good reasons.”
“Yeah?” The look he gave her was a mixture of rage and hostility. “And what would they be?”
“For one thing,” she told him, in a voice she hoped would calm him, “he’s unconscious and being examined to see how bad the damage is. Sheri said it was pretty bad.”
Sam watched the rest of the color leach from Blake’s face.
“Jesus,” he whispered.
“For another, you can’t do him any good. You have to protect yourself right now.” And that was her concern. His safety.
“Isn’t that a little self-absorbed? Grant nearly got killed because of me. I want him to know how sorry I am. And his wife.” He raked his fingers through his hair with his free hand. “Sharon. God. She must be a mess.”
“An officer is staying with Grant and Sharon’s sister is coming from Sarasota to be with her. Sheri will take care of them. My concern is keeping you safe. That’s what you hired me to do, remember?”
“Maybe I should have hired someone to take care of the neighbors, too.”
“Blake.” She took one of his hands in both her of hers, glad when he didn’t pull away. “No one could have foreseen this. It’s all being handled. We were caught with our pants down this time. Everything was focused on you personally and Avery knew your parents were out of town. Our bad. We’ll be more on top of things after this.”
Blake suddenly looked as if all he air had been let out of him. “I can’t imagine what the hell I’ve ever done to bring this on myself.”
On impulse, she lifted his hand and placed a kiss on it.
So much for not sending the wrong signals.
“Vigilance will find out. They always do.” She tried to find words to reassure him. “Blake, I am so very, very sorry. I know that doesn’t help, but I promise you, we’ll get this bastard.”
“I hope before he destroys my entire life and everyone around me.” He snapped his fingers. “My folks. They’ll be back from their cruise shortly. I can’t leave them here unprotected.”
“All taken care of,” she assured him. “Let me know exactly when they plan to return. Avery’s going to assign someone to keep an eye on them until this is all over.”
Blake snorted a laugh. “I’m sure they’ll love that. My dad will probably have twenty-seven fits, but he’ll be happy that my mother will be safe. But how do I explain that something I did caused all this and I don’t even know what the fuck it is?” He sighed. “But okay, as long as they are protected he can get as mad as he wants.” He looked out the window at the back yard. “There’s a ton of cops out there. I didn’t think the Arrowhead Bay force was that big.”
“It isn’t. I mean, there’s hardly ever any crime except speeding, shoplifting, and the occasional domestic abuse. Sheri has an arrangement with the county sheriff to provide people when it’s needed.”
“Like today,” he said, his tone edged with bitterness.
“Yes, like today.”
She’d tell him to sit down and try not to think about what happened, but that would sound stupid. She wanted a way to make him better and take away the pain that etched lines in his face. She could feel his pain herself, was searching for the right words to say and not doing a very good job. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she hurried to let Avery in. Right behind her was her sister, Sheridan March, Arrowhead Bay’s chief of police. They both looked very grim.
“How about some details?” Sam asked, then stood back to let everyone in. “Can you fill me in on everything?”
“Yes. Fine. Let’s check what your stalker did first.” Avery stopped at the entrance to the living room and took in every bit of the scene. “Wow! Whoever this is wants to make sure Blake gets the message.” She shook her head when she spotted the destruction of the statue. “And he continues to personalize it.” She turned back to Sam. “Where’s Blake?”
“Blake’s right here.” He walked in from the kitchen and stood next to Sam. “Hello, Sheri. How about filling me in on everything? Is it true this bastard beat the shit out of Grant Kennelly?”
Sheri nodded. “At least that’s what our theory is.”
“Grant knows my folks are away. If he saw some stranger trying to get in he’d come over to check it out. Are you running this investigation yourself?”
Sheri shook her head. “Normally I would, but this has much larger implications. If in fact it’s Blake’s stalker, I want people experienced with this and with more resources on it. The county sheriff is sending a detective who will be lead on this. Plus we get to use the county resources. Those people in the yard are from the medical examiner’s office and from forensics.”
“I assume the yellow tape is around where Grant was found?”
“Yes. We’re looking for footprints, impressions, anything we can pick up. We’re taking grass clipping everywhere there’s blood spatter.”
Sam tugged him away from the window and the scene in the yard. “You don’t need to see that. Come on.”
“I want to know everything. This happened because of me. Grant sure didn’t expect to get beaten all to hell for his troubles.”
“Our theory is it happened on your back porch. Then he was carried unconscious across both yards, right through that row of bushes. The earth is damp. I think Grant must have watered earlier today. Anyway, the added weight of carrying a guy that big made the attacker step harder into the damp earth and we’ve got a couple of good footprints. At least we’ll know what size shoe he wears,” Sheri said.
“Sheri’s people are doing a canvass of the area,” Avery added, “to see if anyone noticed strange vehicles or anything. Just anything out of the ordinary. We know he was at the Driftwood. He probably saw you drive away and followed you.”
“Followed?” Blake interrupted. “I thought you said we were clean.”
“I was watching for anything like that,” Sam interjected, “but with the tourist traffic it was hard to tell.”
Blake frowned. “How did he know how much time he’d have?”
“If he did follow us to Vigilance,” Sam pointed out, “he probably figured he’d have enough time for his mischief while we were there.”
“But why go to my parents’ home? They have nothing to do with this. Just to find another way to stick it to me?”
“Probably. He may have managed to learn they were out of town and thought you’d be staying there.”
“And he didn’t worry about being seen?”
“I’m sure he had some kind of disguise. Think about this. The guy is very good at making himself invisible. Unremarkable. Someone nobody would notice. That’s how he gets away with leaving these messages for you.”
“I want to know whatever you find,” Blake told them. “Anything at all. This is even more personal for me now.”
“I’ll let you know the minute I know.” Sheri shook her head. “When Avery told me you were coming to meet with her about a stalker, I don’t think either of us had any idea he’d escalate this far.”
“I didn’t, for sure.” Blake emptied what was left of his coffee in the sink and turned back to look at them. “Who found Grant?”
“Sharon Kennelly, when she came home from lunch with her friends. She—”
“His wife found him?”
“She knew Grant was home,” Sheri continued, “but she didn’t see him anywhere and he didn’t answer when she called his name. She went into the yard to see if he was out there, and found him unconscious in the hedges.”
Blake looked ready to pass out and Sam felt sick herself. For a woman like Sharon Kennelly to find her husband in that condition would be a real shock.
“And he was stuffed into that hedgerow?” Blake closed his eyes, a sick look on his face.
Sheri’s features set in a hard look. “Yes. She almost missed him but he was wearing a bright yellow golf shirt. It caught her eye.”
“It makes me sick that Grant Kennelly got caught up in this psycho’s attacks on me.”
Again Sam had to fight the urge to touch him in some way, to assure him he wasn’t alone in all this. “You okay?” she asked him. “Want a drink?”
“No, I’m not, and no, I don’t want a drink.” He shook his head. “Thanks anyway.” But he looked totally shell-shocked.
“How about a fresh cup of coffee, then?”
“Yeah, okay. Coffee’s good. Jesus!” He blew out a breath. “I can’t believe this.” He looked at Avery. “Do we know how Grant is? How bad it is?”
Sheri shook her head. “Not yet. They’re still running tests and taking X-rays. We know he has a couple of broken bones, maybe a broken nose. A concussion most likely, but as yet we don’t know how bad it is, and won’t until he comes out of it. My officer called me from the hospital to bring me up to date. As soon as I have a report I’ll let you know.”
“I want to cover any expenses their insurance doesn’t. That’s nonnegotiable. I don’t care how you do it but make it happen.”
Sheri nodded. “I’ll take care of it with the hospital administrator.”
Sam took his empty mug and went to brew the coffee, even knowing he probably wouldn’t drink it.
“You’ll be seeing them poking around your yard, too, Blake,” Sheri said. “We’re looking for anything we can find.”
He banged his hand on the counter. “Damn it all to hell. Who is this fucker? Why is he so fixated with me?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Sam assured him. She hated the deepening lines of stress in his face and the misery in his eyes.
Sheri headed toward the front door. “I’m going back to the Kennellys to see what we’ve come up with there. Avery, my fingerprint guy will be here as soon as he’s finished at the Kennellys. Sam, you make sure you have eyes on Blake at all times.”
“That’s my job.”
“Yes,” Avery answered. “Keep your eye on your client at all times and your gun always at the ready. There’s no telling what this psychopath will do.” She gestured toward the back door. “Unless we find evidence to the contrary, we’re going to assume the stalker got in the house that way. Probably picked the lock.”
Blake leaned against the counter, making a visible effort to pull himself together. “You know, writing about this stuff as fiction is a lot different from the reality.”
“By the way.” Avery pulled out her cell and scrolled through her notes. “We traced the number those texts came from today. It belongs to a woman named Sarah Jo Murphy who lives in Plainfield, Minnesota.”
Blake’s eyebrows rose. “Minnesota?”
“Yeah. She was shocked as hell when a cop showed up on her doorstep and asked to see her phone. She had just returned from a trip with two friends but they were all over the East coast on a three-week trip. It could have happened anywhere. The police checked out her background thoroughly and cleared her. She’s not the one sending you the messages.”
“Jesus.” Blake raked his fingers through his hair again, a gesture Sam had come to realize he did when he was frustrated or upset.
“Let’s talk about fingerprints,” Avery said. “We’ve got yours but we don’t have any from your parents to eliminate them.”
“My dad was in the military and my mother worked as a nurse in a psychiatric facility years ago. They’d be in the system, right?”
“Yes. That will help.”
A knock sounded at the back door and Avery went to open it. When she came back she had a tall, thin man with her.
“Guys, this is Jerry, Sheri’s tech. She and I decided we didn’t need people tripping over each other. Since he’s already here printing the back door and anything out there the stalker might have touched, we decided he’d do your house as well. It’s actually all one case and this is more efficient.”
Less than five minutes passed before Jerry stepped in from the living room and handed Avery a small baggie with a wrinkled piece of paper in it.
“This was crumpled up and sitting in the remains of that statue. We took pictures of everything before I bagged it.”
Avery carried it to the breakfast table, smoothed it out, and read. Then she looked at Blake. “A love note from your stalker.”
“Let me see what else the asshole wrote.” He reached for the little baggie.
“No touching. Just come take a look.”
He walked over to the table and stared at the wrinkled paper. Sam stood next to him, reading with him. Even in its badly wrinkled shape the words were legible.
Sam frowned. “What the hell?”
I know what you did. I will destroy everything in your world because of it, just like this statue.
“It’s handwritten,” Sam pointed out.
Avery nodded. “Yes. I think he couldn’t resist the temptation and he didn’t have a printer with him. We’ll get the people at the sheriff’s forensics office to analyze the printing but I don’t hold out a lot of hope. This guy is turning out to be wicked smart.”
“He’s not that smart if the only thing he could do with Grant Kennelly was beat the crap out of him,” Blake pointed out. “Smart would have been to say, oops, mistake, and leave without calling any more attention to himself.”
“Don’t sell him short. I sense this is all new to him, but he’s very, very bright. And he may have gotten off on the violence.”
Blake just stared at the note, an angry red flush creeping up his skin, and his entire body tightened. When Sam touched his arm, she felt the tension in his muscles.
“Do you think he knew my mother collects this stuff? Has he dug so far into my life?” He looked from one woman to the other. “How is he getting this information? My God, is there no part of my life that’s safe?”
“Let’s dial it down a little.” Sam tried to sound as calm as possible. “This could just have been an opportunity that presented itself. We’ll get this bastard. I promise you. Before he does any more damage.”
“Any more damage?” He brushed away her hand and began to pace. “You mean before he actually kills someone? Because I’m pretty damn sure that since he thinks he got away with violence once, he won’t hesitate to do it again. Can you promise that?”
“I—”
“Blake, we’ll get him,” Avery assured him again. “We always do. Meanwhile, I have an assignment for you. I know you’ve been over it all with me, but tonight how about sitting down with Sam and going through it again. Only this time let’s do it a little differently. Tell her how you came to be a writer, what you did before, what your journey has been like since your first book was published. It’s possible something will pop up you’d forgotten all about.”
“Yeah, sure. Okay.”
“And with that I’m out of here. Sam, I’ll touch base with you later. You know to call if you need anything at all.”
“Got it covered.”
The door closed behind Avery.
“How the hell did I acquire a psycho like this?” Blake asked. “It’s bad enough he’s after me, but to half kill my neighbor in the process is just…is just…damn it!”
“Come on, Blake.” She closed her fingers over his arm, trying to ease the tension. She was afraid if he didn’t take a breath he’d have a stroke. “Why don’t you show me where I’ll be bunking? Then let’s see if your folks have some wine stashed away. I think we both deserve a little stress reliever, and we can talk about how you came to be Blake Morgan.”
She tugged on his arm and he turned toward her. When he did, his gaze locked with hers so intently she couldn’t catch her breath. Hunger and need swirled in his eyes.
“I can think of a better stress reliever,” he growled, before she could say a word. “Please don’t say no. I need you, Sam. Right now. Just you.”
She couldn’t refuse him, not when her own body responded in an instant. From the moment she’d walked into Avery’s office and seen him, from the minute he’d apologized to her and made her aware the chemistry was still there, she’d known she’d have to make this decision sooner or later. Her own dreams all these years had primed her for this.
What happened to putting things on the back burner? I think I am about to make a big mistake here and I can get hurt.
But then he pulled her body flush against his, so tight she could feel every bit of him, from the hard wall of his chest to the thick cock pressing against her mound through the denim of his jeans.
And she lost the argument with herself.
In the next instant, he was claiming her mouth with a desperation that could only have come from the pressure and tension of the day. He was like a man possessed, needing to wipe away everything, block everything out as he immersed himself in her.
If that kiss fifteen years ago had been hot, this one was scorching. Devouring. And she melted into it holding nothing back.
His tongue was liquid fire along the seam of her lips, licking the surface then forcing her to open for him as he thrust inside. He didn’t have to do much forcing, though. She opened for him willingly, knowing this was what he needed but even more what she was willing to give. She took his tongue inside, rubbing her own over it in an erotic dance that seared every part of her body. He tasted like coffee and sunshine and sin.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, holding on to him for balance as he set fire to every nerve in her body. The hell with all the rules and regulations, all the limits of discipline. They disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The only thing that mattered was this man, now, and the way he made her feel. And his need. Something to counteract the blows he’d taken today.
With his mouth still devouring hers, he slid his hand down her back, tracing her spine then squeezing one cheek of her ass. The movement pulled her even closer to his muscular body, if that was possible.
She wanted to protest when at last he broke the greedy kiss, but then he slid his warm lips along the line of her jaw and tiny shivers raced along the surface of her skin. His kisses, as he trailed them along the tender skin beneath her jaw and down her neck, were almost frantic. He finally placed a hot one in the hollow at the base of her throat, where she knew her pulse was beating like a mad thing, taking a tiny bite before moving his mouth.
When finally he lifted his head, she opened her eyes to find his very hungry gaze locked with hers. Those whiskey brown eyes had darkened to pools of chocolate, the tiny flecks of gold in the irises like flames. With one swift move, he lifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest.
“This has been brewing for a long time, Samantha Quenel. You have one chance to tell me to stop.” His voice was harsh with barely controlled passion and need. “Just one.”
But for the life of her she couldn’t find the strength to do it.