Deadly Fear (Deadly #1)(46)

His fingers bit into her flesh, and he plunged, so deep. He lifted her—damn the man was strong, she had almost forgotten—and Monica wrapped her legs around his waist. Her heels dug into his hips, and she tightened and held him as her sex rippled around his cock and the contractions continued.

So good. Living. Feeling.

He stiffened against her.

Her eyes were still on his. So much heat in that green gaze. Need. Pleasure. The same fire that he would see in her eyes.

His mouth crashed onto hers as his hips jerked.

Pleasure.


Monica’s knees trembled when she tried to stand on her own. Good sex would do that to a woman.

Luke wrapped his arm around her waist and braced her against him. Monica was so tempted to lean against him, just for a little bit longer.

But the vicious lust had been satisfied. A lust she knew they’d both felt. They’d been riding adrenaline from the shooting. Both skirting the fine edge of control. That wild rush happened all the time to cops, to firefighters. To FBI agents.

But the need was slaked. Her limbs seemed heavy now from the wild rush of release that had left her hollowed out.

She licked her lips and realized she didn’t know what to say. “Thank you” just seemed awkward. Like he’d done her a favor by screwing her. “More” seemed too needy, and she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she could go another round right then.

Her gaze slid over, drifted down.

He might be able to go again, though.

“Get in bed.” The gruff order surprised her and had her head whipping back up.

Since when did Luke—

Forget it. Monica cleared her throat. “I-I’ll see you in the morning.” Because in the past, she’d always left after sex, or she’d sent him away. She’d stayed at the cabin, but that had been a one-time deal. The wrong place, too much need.

Monica had sex with her lovers. She didn’t sleep with them. In sleep, her walls came down. She didn’t want them to see her when she was weak.

Because sometimes, the monsters crept up on her in the darkness. That’s why she had to stay on guard. Always.

Her gaze darted to the broken door. Ah… explaining that could be a bit tricky, but she’d get Hyde to toss in some cash to smooth things over with the owner.

“I’m not going anyplace tonight.”

Her gaze snapped right back to him. Luke watched her, his jaw clenched. “Kicking me out isn’t gonna work now, baby.”

He headed into the bathroom.

Her brows shot up. Kicking him out had been the plan and now…

Now he came back, closing the distance between them quickly, minus the condom. Yeah, he was aroused again. Or still aroused, and she knew he’d climaxed. No way to miss that hard jerk of his cock inside her.

“I’m sleeping with you tonight.” He caught her chin. “We’re breaking the rules.”

Of course he knew about her rules.

“Lay with me.” A whisper now. Not an order but a soft entreaty from a lover. “Let me hold you.” His jaw tightened. “And let me forget that you could have died today.”

Let him. The whisper from her own mind.

Luke Dante. Her temptation.

Because she’d always wanted to be held in the darkness. To know she wasn’t alone.

But what if the nightmares came again?

His fingers drifted down her throat. Goose bumps rose on her flesh.

If I wake up screaming, I can say the dreams are from the Jones shooting. Just a flashback. That’s all. He’d believe the lie. He’d believed the others she’d told him.

“Come to bed with me.”

What would it hurt? One night. The door was broken anyway. Might as well be in the same room because the door would be open all night.

She didn’t realize that Luke had been maneuvering her to the bed until her knees bumped against the mattress.

“Let me have tonight,” he said, and his eyes never wavered from hers.

She nodded. Hesitant, a bit afraid, but…

Too tempted.

A man died right in front of me today. His blood coated my skin. I’m taking this. Taking him. Holding on, for as long as I can.

She crawled under the covers, pausing only long enough to toss away her shirt. He was naked. She’d sleep that way, too.

Luke bent toward the bed.

“Ah, wait—”

He froze, and she saw the tightening near his eyes. The flash of—what was that? Pain? Anger?

She reached under the pillow near him and felt the hard butt of her weapon. Grimacing, she pulled out her gun. “Maybe we should move this.” Tonight, she’d be safe.

He took the gun and stared at it. At her. Then asked, “Should I leave the light on?”

And he nearly broke her heart.

Because he knew.

She wasn’t controlled. She wasn’t Ice. She was weak. Afraid. She needed a light when she slept, like a damn child. The big, bad agent, needing a shield against the night.

But that light had let her survive through the darkest hours.

“I’ll leave it on,” he said as his knee pushed onto the top of the mattress.

“No.” Dammit, she could do this. “Turn it off. There’s no need for the light tonight.” She had him. The demons could go screw off.

Luke left her. He turned off the light and plunged them into darkness. The covers rustled when he climbed into bed beside her, then she felt the hot brush of his flesh against her. His muscled, hair-covered legs. His steely arms.