No Place to Run (KGI #2)(41)

She hated the pleading sound of her own voice. It sounded needy and pathetic. Where was the woman who’d coldly planned her father’s murder and her escape?

She dropped her head down, regretting that she’d conjured the image of her father slipping to the floor, his blood running over the polished floor.

She may have hated the bastard, but the idea that she’d so easily pulled the trigger frightened her. Was she more like him than she thought?

“Come to bed, Soph.”

Sam’s low voice fluttered across her neck, so soft and entreating. She shivered and clutched her arms protectively over her chest.

His hands slid over her shoulders and he pulled her back against him. Then his lips whispered just below her ear. A simple, delicate kiss that conveyed more than words the heavy regret between them.

“Come to bed,” he said again.

She let him lead her away from the window. The food was gone and the covers were pulled back. He kept his gaze down, but he carefully eased her down onto the mattress before tucking her in as he would a child.

Without undressing, he walked around the foot of the bed and to the other side, where he slid in next to her. His warmth enveloped her even before he pushed up against her.

For a moment she resisted and lay stiffly as he tucked her against his body, but then, unable to resist, she relaxed and snuggled readily into his embrace.

Right now she didn’t care what he thought of her. For the moment she was safe, even if it was just an illusion. Their child rolled and bumped between them, and her throat tightened at the fantasy of how it could have been if she wasn’t who she was and he wasn’t who he was.

They could be regular people celebrating the life of a child and their first foray into parenting. He could read pregnancy books and worry endlessly over whether she was eating properly.

He’d be there for each kick and wiggle, and they’d stay up late at night talking about names and make wishes for the future.

“Sam?”

His name spilled from her lips. She had so much to explain. She didn’t even know where to start, but she could take the tension between them no longer.

“Shhh. Not now, Soph,” he said in a quiet voice. “Just let it be. Sleep now. Our child needs your strength.”

With a resigned sigh, she closed her eyes.

CHAPTER 16

SOPHIE woke to warm, sensual lips sliding up the side of her neck. She shivered as Sam’s tongue traced the shell of her ear and lingered at the lobe long enough for him to nip it with his teeth.

The covers had been thrown aside, and his palm skimmed up her leg, pushing the oversized shirt over her hip to gather at her waist.

She sucked in her breath. Had she taken off her pants during the course of the night? She was lying there in only her panties and a shirt, and Sam’s hands were fast making work of the shirt.

Or maybe he was just that good.

In past times, he would already have been over her, inside her, waking her to the feel of his c**k stretching her and setting fire to her nerve endings. But this morning he was tentative. Seeking . . . permission? Her acquiescence?

Her body throbbed. A pulse thrummed in her groin, and already she was swollen and wet for him. She loved his touch. Even at his gentlest, he was strong and masterful. She’d been drawn to his strength when she had cause to fear everything else in the world.

He made her feel protected and cherished.

But now?

Her brain hurt trying to decipher where they stood. If they stood anywhere at all. She couldn’t even look back at what they’d had because what they’d had wasn’t real. It was built on lies and half-truths.

His hand slid over her belly and cupped their child as if bringing home the one thing they did have. They’d created a very precious life. She was very real.

He kissed her again, just one touch against the pulse at her neck. His body pressed into the curve of her behind. His erection was hot and turgid, pulsing against her skin. Chill bumps dotted her hip and spread rapidly down her legs.

“You said we couldn’t,” she said without conviction.

He moved his hand up to cup her breast, and he kneaded gently, working the nipple between his fingers.

“Are you more sensitive here now?” he whispered.

She nodded, unable to speak around the tightening of her throat.

“Then I’ll be extra careful.”

He touched and stroked, alternating until her ni**les were stiff peaks, erect and so hard that they hurt. The simplest brush across the points sent a current of desire streaking through her abdomen.

“I’m going to take your shirt off. Just lie still. Let me do the work. I don’t want you to hurt your arm.”

She shivered at the raw sensuality in his voice. Lowtimbred, husky, with just a bit of a rasp. It always got low and gravelly when they made love.

Oh God, they were going to make love.

He eased the shirt farther up, until it gathered around her neck. He stretched the armhole until he could slip it around her elbow. There was only a twinge as he pulled it the rest of the way up and over her arm.

“Lift your head for just a second, honey.”

A moment later, she was free of the material, and she was down to her underwear.

He rose up on his elbow, and she turned her head so she could see him. He simply watched her, his gaze drifting up and down her body with lazy strokes.

“You’re so unbelievably beautiful,” he said hoarsely.