Gone (Deadly Secrets #2)(42)



She grunted, held on to his shirt tighter, drew a deep breath in through her nose as her tongue found his and stroked. The first lick of wet heat was electric, and he fisted the towel at her back, desperate for more. Turning her away from the bathroom door, he pushed her up against the wall. She groaned and kissed him harder. One sexy bare leg lifted and skimmed his hip. He caught it in his hand as he tipped his head and kissed her, trailing his fingers up the backside of her thigh. Trembling against him, she groaned again and rocked against his growing erection until the only word he heard echoing in his head was “more.”

More of her, more of this, more of them. He stepped back, pulling her with him, wanting to feel her beneath him, above him, around him. Her foot hit the floor. Her fingers drifted up into his hair. Dragging her against him, he changed the angle of the kiss, exploring every inch of her lips and tongue and teeth, needing her with a desperation he’d all but forgotten. The backs of his legs hit the mattress. He tugged her down with him. She fell against his chest as he bounced on his back on the mattress. A grunt echoed from her as she pushed up on her hands and broke their kiss. Wide, glazed green eyes stared down at him with a mixture of anger and heat and need and passion. All the same emotions swirling inside him.

A thousand memories of the two of them together flashed behind his eyes, tugging at that heart he definitely knew he still had now. His throat grew thick. Gently, he brushed a lock of wavy damp hair back from her face and glanced over her beautiful features, bruises and all, as he fought for the right words to tell her what he felt. As he struggled with whatever this was happening between them.

Her gaze dropped to his lips, and the need to taste her again, to lose himself in her sweetness, rebuilt until it was all he knew. He skimmed the back of his fingers down her bruised cheek and lifted his mouth back to hers, whispering, “Raegs.”

Her gaze lifted back to his as he drew close, and he watched something shift in her meadow-green irises. Watched her eyes harden, watched her lips thin, watched the blush of passion fade from her cheeks until they were as white as the bedspread beneath him.

She scrambled backward before he could kiss her, climbed off him, and tugged her towel back up around her breasts. Pushing up on one hand, he reached for her to pull her back, but she muttered, “No,” and moved another step away, closer to the safety of her bathroom. “You need to leave, Alec.”

He sat slowly up. Was having trouble thinking. Only knew he didn’t want to let her go. But the waver in her voice kicked some part of his brain into gear, and in a rush he realized she was no longer vibrating with rage and passion but with fear.

“Raegan—”

“No.” She stepped back again, into the bathroom, before he rose fully to his feet. And this time the panic in her voice brought him to a full stop. “Please”—her voice hitched, and she swallowed quickly to hide it, but he heard it just the same—“just leave.”

Oh yeah, he still had a heart because it cracked right there in front of her. Cracked because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her—he’d done that too many times to count—and he was obviously doing it again.

His throat grew so tight it was hard to breathe. He could never make up for the wrongs he’d done her in the past. All he could do was the right thing tonight. “I’m not leaving.”

Her gaze lifted to his. Only this time when their eyes met he didn’t see fear or anger or passion in her mesmerizing eyes. He saw desperation. “I don’t want you here anymore. Can’t you see that? I don’t want or need—”

“I know my father did this to you.” Her words hurt, more than he’d thought they could, but he held his ground. He was done running. Done hiding. Done ignoring the pain he’d caused. He’d done all of that before and it had only prolonged both of their misery. It was time he faced her and the past. And whether or not she wanted to admit it, she needed him now. He wasn’t walking away from her until he knew she was safe. “You’re not staying here alone.”

“I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t want you to protect me. I’m perfectly fine by myself.”

“I’m still staying.” He turned for the door, moving on legs steadier than he expected. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Try to get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He closed the door before she could protest. Before she could rail at him again and throw him out. She was wearing nothing but a towel. He knew she wouldn’t come after him. In fact, he suspected he’d shocked and confused her so much just now that she wouldn’t come out of her bedroom until dawn.

His thoughts were a whir as he moved down the hall. This night had not gone at all as he’d planned. Breathing deeply, he tried to focus on something concrete instead of the emotions still swirling inside him. Like the cases and those missing kids. Reaching back for his phone, he decided to text his friend Hunt to see if he’d found any information on those two kids, but his feet drew to a stop when he neared the second bedroom. Emma’s room.

All thoughts of the cases drifted from his mind. His skin tingled and his fingers twitched at his side. A little voice urged him to walk on by, that tonight of all nights was not the time to test his willpower, but his legs didn’t seem to want to listen. They led him across the carpet, and before he could stop himself, he closed his fingers around the door handle and turned. Then stared into the dark room.

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