I stretch up and kiss him, and he kisses me back, slow and deep, before scooping me off the sofa and carrying me to the bedroom. He lays me back on the pillows, then tugs off the condom and hikes up his jeans without zipping them.

His eyes devour my naked body. “Don’t go anywhere.” He disappears up the hall, and when he returns, he’s got a box of condoms in his hand.

“A little presumptuous, don’t you think?” I say, but I can’t stop my smile with the giddy rush that skitters through me. This is really happening. We’re finally together.

He shrugs as he sets them on the nightstand and gives me that sexy smile. “A guy can dream.”

I sit on the edge of the bed and pull him toward me by the belt loop of his open jeans. I slide his jeans and boxer briefs down his legs, and as he steps out of them, I get my first look at him in all his naked glory. He is spectacular: toned, and bronze, and perfectly proportioned.

I pull him with me as I scoot back on the bed. He crawls up next me. “You make me insatiable, Sam West.”

I burrow into him and smile. “Just keep those condoms handy, because you’ll be needing them.” I trace a finger down his chest to his happy trail. “Very soon.”

He groans—an animal sound from deep in his chest—and rolls on top of me. “How about right now.”

I wrap my legs around him. “I think I like the sound of that.”


IT’S EARLY WHEN I wake with rays of pale sunlight slanting in the window right into my eyes. I hear water running in the shower and roll to my left, where I find an imprint in the pillow of Blake’s head. I smile and pull his pillow to my face, breathing deep. And God, I love the smell of him. I push the sheet back and sit up, rubbing my eyes, and look at the clock. Seven.

I want to roll over and go back to sleep, but these might be my last few hours with him. He’s in the shower, and the possibilities that flit through my mind make me blush. But I have a feeling Blake would be up for trying a few out. It’s only when I move that I realize how sore I am. A rush ripples under my skin at the memory of how I got that way. We went through half the box of condoms before we finally fell asleep a few hours ago. I sit up and grab one out of the box, then edge off the bed and slowly make my way to the bathroom.

The glass door is foggy, but it doesn’t obscure what’s behind it. With his back turned to me, the water cascades down the ripples of his body. The muscles of his shoulders flex as his palms rest on the shower wall, and water runs in a stream off his nose as his head hangs between them. One hand leaves the wall and rakes through his hair as he tips his head back and lets the water run over his closed eyes. God, he’s spectacular.

He starts to turn, his eyes still closed, and that almost-smile tugs at his lips. And that’s when I know for sure how connected we are.

He feels me.

His eyes open, and there’s nothing glacial in his gaze as he takes me in. The fire from last night hasn’t gone out.

I pull open the door, setting the condom on the soap shelf. “Hey.”

“I will never get used to how incredible you are,” he says, his voice rough.

He’s removed the bandage from his arm, and for the first time I see he was totally lying when he said it was just a scratch. Almost hidden in the dark lines of ink just below the bulge of his impressive deltoid is an angry red scab with three black stitches through it. When he lifts his arm to touch my face, I see a matching one on the back of his arm. The bullet couldn’t have missed the bone by much.

My heart aches at the thought of losing him, then spasms at the realization I’m just about to. “How long do we have?”

He lowers his hand. “Cooper will be here at eight.”

A stone sinks in my gut as I slip my arms around him and press myself into the curve of his body. If this is all I’m going to get of him, I’m not going to waste a minute. I kiss his chest, flicking his hardened nipple with my tongue before pressing him against the tiled shower wall, out of the water, and lowering myself to my knees.

He groans as I tease his growing erection with my tongue. And I wasn’t imagining the size. I knew it felt more intense with him than it ever had with anyone else—tighter and more focused—and now I know why. A minute later, when I take him into my mouth, he sucks in a sharp breath. His head falls back into the wall as he starts to rock his hips to my rhythm. I moan in response as just the sound of his desire prickles my skin into goose bumps.

I feel his muscles clench under my hands as he stops moving, and I taste him, salty and sweet, in the back of my throat. He starts to pull back, but I hold him still and keep my mouth on him, pumping faster and using my teeth to tighten my lips around him.

“Sam,” he groans in warning, his fingers twisting hard into my hair.

I don’t stop. I want him to feel as good as he makes me feel.

He closes his eyes and growls as I suck him deep into my mouth again, and I can tell he’s trying to hold back. I suck harder and skim my teeth over his length, and that puts him over the edge. He cries out, a choked “Ah!” as he bursts in my mouth.

I hold him in my hand as he stands, shuddering, in front of me, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. Finally, he breathes deep and looks down at me. And his hunger still isn’t sated. If anything, he looks more ravenous.

He takes my hand and pulls me up, then spins my back against the wall and kisses me. I put everything I have into the kiss, hoping I can somehow make him feel how real this is for me. Hoping that he knows this is more than just sex.

He holds me tight against him, as if he’s afraid to let go, and drops kisses over my eyes and nose.

My heart is bleeding and I want to beg him to stay. But if this is all he can give me right now, I’ll take it greedily, without regret.

My hands glide over his sculpted perfection as he crushes me to him, and if I could, I’d climb right under his skin. His kisses become more insistent as his manhood grows harder, and a few minutes later, when he’s ready, I roll the condom onto him. He lifts me onto his hips, and, as sore as I am, a satisfied moan rolls up from my core at the feeling of him filling me as I sink onto him. He presses my back into the cold tile and pulls out slowly before burying himself inside me again.

The water does nothing to put out the fire under my skin. Instead, it ignites my buzzing nerve endings as it trickles over me, setting me ablaze. He takes his time with me, bringing me to climax over and over before he finally lets himself finish, and then we just stand here, me crushed between his hard body and the tile, clinging to him with both arms and legs. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and force my breathing to stay even as I cry into his shoulder.

Finally, he lowers me to the ground and pulls me into the water. “Turn around.”

I do, and he tips my head back, wetting my hair. His fingers massage shampoo into my scalp, and I shudder with the goose bumps despite the cloud of steam enveloping us. He rinses my hair and starts on my body, his soapy hands so gentle as they find every part of me. But when he’s done, he pulls a towel off the rack and wraps me in it, and I realize everything about that felt like good-bye.

“Go make some coffee,” he says, kissing my nose. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

When I step through the door into my bedroom, I’m looking over my shoulder at Blake, his hands braced against the wall and his head hanging under the water, so it’s not until I’m fully out the door that I look up.

And my bleeding heart screeches to a dead stop.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“MARCUS,” I GASP. I pull the towel tighter around my chest, as if it might somehow stop a bullet from the gun that’s pointed at me.

His scowl deepens. “Ben was right. You were working for them the whole time.”

“No! I was never working for them. I swear it. I loved working for Ben.”

His jaw tightens as he lifts the gun higher, pointing it at my face. “I saw you at that cabin, and I heard you in there. You’re screwing that narc.”

“I was . . .” My face is burning, and I can’t believe, in the adrenaline-fest of my bloodstream, there’s any left to rush to my face. More than that, I can’t believe I even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed with a gun pointing at me. But at the thought of Marcus listening, I relive just enough of the experience to send blood to my cheeks. “I never met him before my first night at Benny’s. I wasn’t working for them. I swear.”

Marcus moves closer, his fingernail blanching white as his finger tightens on the trigger. “I’m going to finish you both.”

I listen for the shower to turn off, but Blake’s still in there. I can’t call for him, and I can’t warn him. All I can do is try to talk Marcus down. My eyes flick to the gun, but I force them not to stay there. “You don’t have to do that. The murder charge is gone. It’s been dropped. There’s nothing I can do to hurt Ben now.”

His piercing gaze stays locked on mine. “Ben pulled me off the street when I was seventeen. He’s been a dad to me for eight years. I’m not going to let you and that cop ruin him.”

I take a slow step toward him, not sure what I mean to do. But, just at that second, the bathroom door flies open.

A buck-naked Blake launches into the room like a shot with my hair spray can. He’s in Marcus’s face before I can even blink. A cloud of hair spray envelops Marcus’s head and he cries out as Blake takes him down to the floor. The next second, there’s a loud pop as the gun fires.