Deadly Heat (Deadly #2)(66)

He glanced up at her, his eyes glinting.

Then he put his mouth on her. His tongue touched her, licking her sensitive skin, sliding right over her clit. The orgasm took her by surprise, a sweet release that poured over her even as he continued to taste her, using deeper strokes of his tongue now.

Her hips pressed against his mouth, and her hands fisted in the sheets. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she just felt.

Him. The rasp on his cheeks, the soft touch of his mouth.

As promised, he took his time, tasting her flesh until she was moaning and twisting on the bed. She opened her eyes and saw him rising, a strong shadow that covered her.

He slipped on a condom, and the head of his cock pushed against her body. Her arms lifted and curled around him as he slid inside in an easy, slow glide.

Lora lost her breath. No, he stole it with his kiss, but gave her his in return.

The bed squeaked beneath them. His thrusts were steady, driving, and she held him as tight as she could. When her second climax hit, she cried out his name as her muscles contracted around him on a hard wave of release.

Kenton kept thrusting, and he kept his eyes on her. His cock swelled even more inside her, the friction sparking a rush of pleasure.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, and she held him tight. His neck was close, so she leaned up and kissed him, using the edge of her teeth in a light bite of her own.

He shuddered against her, and his hands curled around her hips. His head lifted, and he thrust again, again.

And, with his eyes on hers, he came. Pleasure wiped across his face, the same hot pleasure that swept through her.

He kissed her.

Her hands curled around him. Held tight.

Held… him.


“You know you scared the hell out of me.” Kenton spoke moments later in the darkness. His arms were around her. Her body against his. He’d ditched all of his clothes and lay naked with her. His heart beat beneath her palm, steady and strong. The wild rush was over. For now.

“When I realized you were in the house…”

She lifted her gaze to his. The lamp was on beside them, spilling light onto the bed. “I’m okay.” But her lips curled as she stared at him. He looked so serious, with that faint line between his brows and the stubble lining his jaw. “But if you need to f*ck me one more time, just to be sure…” She leaned up and licked his lips. “Go right ahead.”

The laugh came, just as she’d wanted. A hard and deep rumble.

At the sound, something inside her eased. Finally.

“He didn’t get me,” she told him. “But the bastard really did manage to piss me off.” She loved that house. Loved it. She’d painted every inch of it herself, over Jake’s protests. The fact that the guy owned a painting company didn’t mean he had to paint her house.

And she’d redone the kitchen on her own. She’d worked in the bathroom with Ryan and even put in new floors with Jake and Ben. Ryan had supervised everything, of course, since construction was his business.

They’d all worked hard. Together, they’d turned the old house into her beautiful new home.

Now…

She blinked back the tears that wanted to fill her eyes.

No, the arsonist hadn’t hurt her, not physically. But maybe that had been his plan. If he’d wanted the whole house to go up—fast—she knew he could have done it. But there’d been time for her to get out. Time to run. And the cops had been there.

She bet Phoenix had seen them. He seemed to see everything. “I think he did it just to show he could.” Her words came, slowly, as she thought about the killer in the dark. Because if he’d really wanted her to burn…

The fire would have been inside. He’d run a line of gasoline all the way around her house. Outside.

“What? What do you mean?”

“The fire… I think it was a taunt. An I-can-get-to-you slap right in my face.” Because he’d wanted her to know that if he wanted her to burn, she’d burn.

No, bastard, I won’t.

“He knew exactly how to set the burn line so that the fire would stay on the edges of the house, and I’d be able to get out.” She shook her head. “If he wanted me dead, the fire would have ripped inside.” But he hadn’t wanted her dead. “He’s jerking us around.”

“Maybe not us.” His words came slowly, still rough, deep. “Maybe just you.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s been you all along.”

Lora shook her head. “Uh, no, I don’t think—”

But he was shooting up in bed. “Those first four fires, they were when you were on duty. He planned those. Every detail. Every moment.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t on duty when that last poor guy was torched—”

“Larry Powell was killed because he was a witness.”

Uh, who? Her brows climbed. “Run that by me again.”

“The dental records came back. The man handcuffed to the radiator? That was Larry Powell—”

“The survivor from the fire on LeRoy.” Her shoulders slumped. He’d escaped one hell, only to have the flames seal him in another. “Why?”

“Because I think Phoenix thought Powell was a loose end—and our guy doesn’t like loose ends.”

Lora shook her head, aware of a growing chill in the room. No, not in the room. The chill was in her bones.