Walk Through Fire (Chaos, #4)(121)

High looked from Slim to Millie to see her nodding.

It was done.

Time to do something else.

“Millie’s been outta town and she runs her own business,” High said, and looked to Mitch and Slim. “She needs to get back. You get what you need?”

“Got it, High,” Mitch muttered. Then to Millie, “Again, thanks.”

She pushed back from the table and stood and the men stood with her. These being Slim and Mitch. Tack, High, Boz, Hound, and Pete were where they’d be with any old lady in this situation.

At her back.

She shook hands with both detectives, mumbled, “Nice to meet you,” then High moved in and claimed her.

He led her firmly to the door while she called her farewells to the brothers.

He stopped her at the passenger door to Pete’s truck.

“I’ll ride down, meet you at your house,” he stated, and she looked up at him.

Then she looked closely at him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” he answered.

His answer was true but his tone was rough and he knew it. So he also knew it didn’t sound like everything was okay.

In other words, it wasn’t a surprise when she continued to question him.

“You sure, Snooks?”

Fuck, it was messed up, but he’d missed Snooks.

He bent to her, lifting a hand to wrap it around the side of her head, and he took her mouth in a brief but hard kiss.

He lifted away and murmured, “See you at home.”

He saw her eyes widen slightly at that and he didn’t know if it was her concern at his tone or a reaction to him calling her place home.

He didn’t stick around to find out.

He let her go, turned away, walked to his bike, swung a leg over, and fired it up.

He gave her a brief wave before he rode off, seeing Pete heading to his truck as he did.

He was at her house fifteen minutes before Pete dropped her off. Long enough to make certain the cats hadn’t destroyed anything. Long enough to witness that they were settling in mostly because they were snoozing and barely blinked their eyes when he found them snuggled in a basket that held extra afghans.

She came in the back door, her eyes to him standing in the space between living room and kitchen with his hands on his hips.

“I think it’s safe to say I’m a little freaked out, Low,” she told him before she closed the door. “You’re acting funny.”

He didn’t say a word.

He turned around and walked through the living room and down the hall.

“Low,” she called.

He knew she followed him because he heard her cooing to the cats and then he heard her boots strike on the wood floors.

He’d stopped inside her room and positioned so he saw her when she entered, rounding into the room, eyes to him, concern now blatant.

“Okay, it’s official,” she said softly, moving to him. “You’re totally freaking me out, Logan.”

She got within arm’s reach.

Which meant a beat later she found herself pressed face-first to the wall with him using his body to keep her there.

“Low,” she whispered, hands to the wall, pushing.

He ground his crotch into her ass.

“Wore my dress,” he growled in her ear.

And she did. The sweater dress that clung to every beautiful inch of her body and there were a lot of them.

He heard her breath catch and the way she was pushing back into him changed.

He yanked up her skirt.

“Oh God,” she breathed, now grinding into him with her ass.

She wanted what he was going to give and she wanted it bad.

This was not about her not getting any for decades.

This had always been Millie. She’d always been up for it anywhere, any way he wanted to give it to her.

The thought and that proof grinding into him made his dick get even harder.

He looked down, gliding a hand over her hip and thigh. He saw his girl in the dress that had been f*cking with him since she walked into the cabin wearing it.

No, since they’d had words when he’d delivered the champagne weeks ago.

He also saw the lace edge of her thigh-high.

Fuck.

“Please, Christ, be turned on,” he muttered, sliding his hand up over her ass, into the rim of her panties at the small of her back, down and in.

“Baby,” she whimpered, now he could feel her trembling.

Wet.

He toyed with her to get her closer. When she had her head turned, temple pressed to his jaw, and he heard her panting, he yanked her panties down and felt her gasp go right through his dick.

He freed it, wrapped his hand around it, prodding the tip through her wet.

She got up on her toes, tilting her ass to give better access.

Fuck yeah.

Anywhere, any way he wanted to give it to her.

He wedged in the head, trailed his hand around her hip and then in.

He found her clit with his finger at the same time he drove his cock home.

Fucking ecstasy.

The back of her head dug into his shoulder as she took him, gasping, moaning, whispering, “God yes,” and “So good, Low,” and “More, baby.”

He gave her more until she got it all and while she was coming he put a hand to her jaw to force her to twist her neck as he bent to her so she was facing him. Then he took her mouth.