Cynthia Eden - Fear For Me

Anthony stood close to them. Kyle’s voice was low as he said, “There’s not a single night that passes for me—not a single one—when I don’t wonder where she is. When I don’t wonder what happened to her.” His gaze hardened. “And when I don’t want to make the bastard who took her pay.” Fury flashed in his eyes, battling with the echo of pain.

“I’m sorry.” Lauren’s voice was whisper soft. “I didn’t know.”

“I’ve never been able to bring my sister home. I never got any justice for her.” He inclined his head toward Lauren. “But I’ll do my damnedest to see that you get justice for Jenny.”

A tear tracked down Lauren’s cheek.

Anthony pulled her closer to him.

Kyle’s gaze rose to his face. “You take good care of her.”

Always.

“And we will stop that SOB out there.”

Yes, they would.

As they hurried from the station, Anthony realized if Lauren asked, he’d do any damn thing she wanted. Even kill—in an instant—if that helped to ease the pain that seemed to break her apart.

The second the hotel room door closed behind Anthony, Lauren turned and wrapped her arms around him. She was desperate. She needed him. Needed the way he could make her feel. Only him.

“Lauren, why—”

She rose onto her toes. Her mouth pressed against his.

His hands came around her and he tried to gently push her back.

She wasn’t in the mood for gentle.

Jenny’s killer. All of those women…all of them…

“Baby, you’re hurt,” he growled the words as he eased away from her. “I can’t—”

“I can. The doctor said I’m fine.” Mostly true, but right then, she didn’t care about some aches and pains. Lauren felt as if she were breaking apart on the inside. On the outside, her skin was chilled. An ice that threatened to consume her.

She needed Anthony. Needed the wild rush of pleasure he’d always been able to give her.

She had to forget everything, in order to be able to live without breaking. “I need you.”

His gaze darkened. “Baby, you know I’m always desperate for you.” Then he was kissing her, but not with the fierce intensity she wanted. He was trying to be careful.

Fuck careful.

Her hand rose between them. She unbuttoned her shirt. Let the soft silk part so he could see the edge of her bra. He might think he was going to take it easy with her, but she remembered everything about him. Including all the ways to make him lose control.

Her tongue met his. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He was aroused, growing more so by the moment, and she wanted him in her. Wanted the drive to oblivion that would let her pretend—if only for a fleeting moment—that everything in her world wasn’t a nightmare.

She sucked his tongue. He growled. Good. She wanted better.

Lauren stepped back. Shed the rest of her clothes. He watched her with eyes that burned.

She was his obsession. He’d said that. She wanted to see just how obsessed he could get.

His eyes were on her breasts. In the next second, his hands were, too. Caressing. Stroking. Then he was lifting her into his arms—still being so freaking careful—and carrying her to the bed.

His mouth was on her breast. Licking. Kissing. Laving her nipple and making the hard knot of lust within her grow even tighter. Her legs were parted, and his fingers went straight to her core. No hesitant touch from him. Just a deep thrust of his index finger into her even as his thumb pushed on the center of her need.

“You have to want me…more.” He whispered the words as he turned his focus to her other breast. “So fucking perfect…”

She wasn’t perfect. Far from it. She was barely holding on.

His finger withdrew, then thrust again. Helplessly, her hips arched against him when he pushed a second finger into the heat between her legs.

“Easy.” His head lifted. “You have to take care—”

Her eyes flashed open. She hadn’t even realized she’d shut them. “No! I don’t want easy. I want—” She broke off, lost.

“What do you want, Lauren?”

“Make me forget.” It was a broken whisper. “Please.”

A muscle flexed along his jaw. “I’ll do better than that.” His hands found her wrists, and he held them against the pillows. “But you can’t move. Not an inch. You stay right there.”

He was still being careful—

Anthony positioned himself between her thighs. Then his mouth was on her. His lips, his tongue…he was sampling her, exploring her secrets, and she wanted to move so badly. Wanted to arch into his mouth.

But her muscles had locked. Was it by his order? Or her own desperate need? She wasn’t sure. She just couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but take the pleasure as his mouth took her.

The pleasure was there. It hit her, striking hard and reverberating through her on a wave of heat that melted the ice surrounding her. Then she was moving, wildly, frantically. Shudders racked her body, her sex contracted and the orgasm seemed to go on and on.

Only pleasure. Only pleasure…

“That’s a nice start.” His voice was a low, rough rumble.

She heard a faint ripping sound and saw a foil wrapper get tossed to the side.

The head of his cock pushed against her body. Her eyes met his. Anthony. His face was savage with need, but his hands were gentle. His control hadn’t broken. Hers had.

I’m broken. So lost—

He thrust into her.

Only pleasure.

His fingers twined with hers, keeping her hands pinned to the pillow. His thrusts were slow and deep, driving all the way into her core. She lifted her legs and curled them around him. He made her feel so full. Made her whole body pulse with pleasure—

Another orgasm was already building.

He kissed her when she came. The pleasure rolled through her on hard waves. There was no more fear, no more worries—only the release that held her in its white-hot grip and wouldn’t let go.

Anthony thrust deep into her once more, then he stiffened. His mouth tore from hers as he growled her name. She looked up at him as he came and saw the flash of stark pleasure that swept over his face. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes blazing—he was so sexy that he made her lose the breath she’d finally just caught.

Slowly, so slowly, the pleasure ebbed. Her heartbeat became less like a wild drumbeat and more of a slow, steady thud.

He slid out of her, and she hated that. She wanted to stay a part of him, but he was already sliding to the side of her body, cradling her. Anthony kept his fingers entwined with her right hand. “I missed you.” His stark confession came as the sunlight poured through the blinds and fell on their bodies.

“You didn’t have to stay away.” Her words were a whisper. Her throat felt parched, as if she’d been screaming.

Had she? For the sake of any folks rooming close by, she hoped not.

“How do you know I did?”

His question had her brows pulling together. “Of course you stayed away. You left and—”

“Sometimes, I just needed to see you.” He brought her hand to his lips. Kissed her palm. “Sometimes it was too hard to let you go.”

The shock must have showed in her eyes.

“I told you,” he said, giving a slow, almost sad shake of his head. “Obsession. It’s dangerous.”

He rolled away and went to the bathroom.

The chill came back on her skin. What had she thought would happen once they had sex again?

I hadn’t been thinking.

She’d just wanted to stop feeling. She’d known sex with him would give her that delicious oblivion she needed.

Her hand fumbled and yanked the covers over her naked body just as the bathroom door opened again.

Silently, he came toward her and lifted the covers she’d just so desperately tried to arrange. He slid in bed next to her and pulled her close. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” Were they talking about the sex or the past?

“Sometimes it’s too easy to hurt the ones who get close to you. No one has ever gotten as close to me as you.” He studied her carefully. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Not if they were talking about the sex.

His gaze seemed to look past her. “A few months ago, when I was working the Valentine case down in New Orleans, that bastard managed to get the drop on me.”

Her fingers clenched the covers.

“I was searching for him in the woods. There’d been an explosion at the scene a few minutes before. I was hurt, but not badly enough to stop the hunt.”

She knew he never stopped a hunt if he could help it.

“The bastard hit me from behind. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair, and there was a bomb strapped to my chest.”

The heat that had just filled her cheeks cooled instantly. She’d heard he was involved in an explosion while apprehending Valentine, but the bomb had been strapped to his chest? Dear God.

“I knew how much time I had. Valentine made sure of it. The guy fucking hated me. I’d kept his fiancée hidden from him, for years, and he wanted me to suffer.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So I suffered.”

She should say something comforting, but she couldn’t speak past the heavy fear in her throat.

Strapped to his chest.

“After awhile, it wasn’t about hours of survival. It was about minutes. I was in the middle of nowhere, and I didn’t expect a rescue.” His gaze turned back to her. He paused a beat. “Did you?”

Yes. She’d expected him to find her, too late.