Deadly Lies (Deadly #3)(39)

“Max…”

He brushed past her. “I’m going to bed. Do whatever the hell you want.” He ditched his pants. No boxers. Like she hadn’t already seen him naked. “Stay up all night.” He probably would. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that severed finger and wondered where his brother was. “But don’t worry about me. I’m not going to jump you.”

If only. Frank had the right of it. Hard, driving sex was the way to shove the demons away.

The way to hold onto sanity until dawn came.

Hold on, Quinlan. Just hold on.

Max climbed into the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to shut her out. But he could hear her. Every soft move. Every rustle.

The bed dipped when Samantha eased in beside him. He caught her scent, light, flowery, and wanted more.

No. You couldn’t always have what you wanted. He knew that better than others.

Silence.

In bed with him. Close. If he reached out, he could touch her.

He wouldn’t reach out. But, dammit, he had to ask. “Is he alive?” His eyes opened to darkness. “You know these bastards. Do you think he’s alive somewhere, hurting and scared, or have they already cut him up?” His eyes struggled to adjust to the dark as he waited for her answer. Not a bullshit response, the truth.

Her fingers brushed his arm. Heat shot through him. “He’s alive.”

Max could almost believe her. Almost.

Her hand slipped over his chest, stopping just over his heart, and he knew that she had to feel the desperate drumming. “Wouldn’t do that,” he warned. This was the only warning he’d give. “Not unless you want me to finish what you’re starting.”

Between them, there could be no innocent touches now. No comfort in the darkness. In the middle of hell, he still wanted her. Fuck, had wanted her, every moment, even when rage bubbled in his chest.

His cock was hard, ready, because she was near. The temptation to reach out to her was strong because he knew she would make him forget, for just a few moments, the nightmare he was living.

“I’m afraid of the way you make me feel.” Her words came again. In the dark, his Samantha was being honest. A surprise. But, no, maybe she’d always been honest in the dark. Honest when their bodies touched and the need exploded.

The real her?

“I know I shouldn’t,” she said, her voice husky and seeming to stroke right over his cock, “but I still want you.” Samantha rose a bit, turning on her side, and her breath blew over his cheek.

And he wanted her. If she didn’t pull back…

No more warnings.

“It’s wrong,” she told him softly, her voice sin in the dark. “The case, us. But… but I need to be with you one more time.”

He grabbed her and pulled her toward him. Her skin slid against his, and he wanted more. He’d have more.

“You don’t trust me,” she whispered, and her lips were less than an inch away.

And you don’t trust me. But he didn’t say that. No need. They both knew it.

“You don’t—”

Max kissed her. He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulled her head down, and pressed his lips to hers. She moaned into his mouth and arched toward him. Still wearing that damn dress when he wanted to feel her bare skin.

His hands snaked down her body. No preliminaries. No caresses. This was sex. Wild. Raw. Pleasure and climax, that’s what he’d take.

She straddled him, placing one soft thigh on either side of his legs. The dress pooled around them. He caught the fabric and shoved it up to her hips. One tug and he ripped her panties away.

Her mouth broke from his as she gasped.

Condom. Christ, he needed the—

Hot, creamy flesh brushed against his cock. Ready for him, just as he was ready for her. No, he was damn near exploding for her. His hand shot out and fumbled with the night stand. He hit the lamp switch, and light spilled onto the bed. He’d stashed his wallet in the nightstand drawer earlier. One condom left. One.

She leaned over him and opened the drawer. “Got it.” So soft. Her fingers tore open the wrapper. She took out the condom. She touched him, and he shuddered. No, no, too close. When her hands were on him…

He rolled, pushing her back against the bed, leaving her legs spread, and the dress bunched at her waist. Just sex.

That was all it had ever been.

The condom covered him. Wanted flesh to flesh. Wanted that hot core, squeezing around me, nothing separating us.

His erection pushed against the entrance of her sex. She reached out to touch him again, but he caught her hands and pushed them back against the mattress.

Just sex.

Her gaze seemed to burn right through him.

Fuck, lost. One look and he was… Max kissed her. The kiss should have been hard and angry, but it was more. Desperate. Like he was starving for her, and maybe he was. Starving, addicted, so hungry for her.

His cock thrust deep. She made that moan in the back of her throat, the moan that made him crazy, and he thrust faster, stronger, and he kissed his way down her neck. Soft skin. So soft. He bit her flesh even as he thrust balls-deep.

She bucked beneath him, then whispered, “Harder.”

His cock stretched even more, and he gave the woman what she wanted.

Her hands were free. She’d pulled them from his grasp, and now her fingers were on him. Her nails dug into his shoulders.