Deadly Fear (Deadly #1)(30)

“Missed you.” He thrust deep. So deep she nearly bucked off the bed. So deep his name broke from her lips. So deep the bed sounded like it might break apart as the old boards groaned beneath them.

Just what she’d wanted.

He plunged into her, again and again, hard drives that she met with blind pleasure. Her legs wrapped around him, squeezed tight.

And the fury built.

Faster.

Faster.

His eyes were the only thing she could see in the darkness, glinting at her.

His arms were locked on either side of her head as he thrust, driving them both to that wild release.

Closer. Closer.

His cock slid over her clit, pushed into her core and—

She broke. A muffled scream slipped from her lips as her sex spasmed around his thick length. Pleasure and madness. A climax so strong she squeezed her eyes shut and held onto him as hard as she could.

Still he thrust. Deep, deeper, every hard movement of his body making the pleasure last and last.

Luke.

His name broke from her lips. She pushed up, wrapping her arms around his neck as she lifted against him.

Face to face. Sex to sex.

She kissed him. And rose. His cock slid over her sensitive flesh.

Monica pushed down. Rode him.

She rode him fast and deep. She took him, even as the heat of release whipped through her again.

Took him—took everything.

His cock swelled. Lodged tight within her.

He came.

So did she—a long, hot wave of release. Pleasure.

He’d always been able to give her exactly what she needed. Always.


He was so screwed.

Luke knew this for a fact. An absolute-damn-certainty. He woke up, alone in the bed. The scent of sex and Monica hovered in the air all around him. His cock was already up and twitching, and he knew he was in trouble.

Sex with her hadn’t been as good as before.

It had been better. They’d barely touched, and he’d been about to explode in his jeans.

Then when he’d gotten inside her, and the tight creamy clasp of her sex gripped his cock— Screwed.

The bathroom door opened with a soft groan. Monica stepped out. Her hair was perfect. Not a strand out of place. She’d applied her makeup, a light touch at the eyes and a sexy slicking at the lips. She wore khakis and a white blouse.

Perfect.

Then she saw him. Her eyes met his and for the briefest of moments, she paused.

She looked… uncertain. Then that chin rose. “You’re up.”

He glanced down at his cock. “Glad you noticed.”

That sound could have been a choked laugh. But then her eyes fell to his flesh and she took a deep breath. “Luke…”

He could still feel the press of her fingers on him. “What time do we talk to the first witness?” He could play this game. Business.

She turned toward her suitcase. “Eight-thirty.”

Ah, right. He glanced at his watch. “Gives us forty minutes.” Time to hop his butt in the shower and get his game face on.

Time for pleasure too, but with those stay-away vibes Monica was tossing out…

The pleasure would have to wait.

Business, first.

That was okay. He’d had his taste. Just as addictive as before.

So much for being able to walk away after one more screw. They were just too combustible.

He yanked on his jeans and rose. Because he was watching her—what else was new?—he caught the swift glance she tossed him and he saw the way her gaze dropped to his chest. Luke couldn’t help it. He had to flex, just a little.

A man had his pride.

“You… you came pretty close to death on that last one.”

He blinked and stopped the flex. Not what he’d expected.

Then a thought hit him, an unbelievable one, and Luke paused. “Worried about me?” Because with her, he never knew where he stood.

The tight nod she gave had his eyes widening.

She turned away from him. “I heard about the stabbing. Right after—”

She’d heard, and she hadn’t come rushing to his bedside. No big shocker. Not like it was his first injury. “Just another scar to join the others.” He lifted his hand, rubbing his right cheek.

Monica’s mark. Stupid, the way he’d gotten that. For her.

She glanced back at him. Her gaze darted to his hand. The mark. Then right back to his eyes. “You should’ve had backup.”

Ah. Not gonna talk about her mark, not yet. “I was interviewing witnesses. Didn’t need—”

“In the SSD, you do.” She set her shoulders. “That’s why we’re going together. The perps we hunt here—you can’t take chances with them.”

So he’d learned with Carl Malone, aka the Sorority Stalker. An ex-psych professor who’d crossed the line into straight-up crazy. No longer content to just watch the pretty young girls, he’d had to touch them. Then kill them.

I stopped the bastard.

Luke set his shoulders. “Give me five minutes in the shower, and I’ll be ready to go.”

Stamping down hard on the lust—because yeah, it was there, was always there when she was near—he headed across the room. One bathroom. Great. The room would smell of her.

But then, he smelled of her too and…

“Thank you, Luke.”