"Sure it is. My buddy Seth set it up for me. For my birthday present, believe it or not. Trust Seth, to come up with the perfect gift."
"Oh." Her voice was small and thoughtful.
"I gave him all kinds of moralistic shit about it at the time. He just laughed and said, 'Happy birthday, tight-ass. Your day will come.'"
Her soft lips moved against his neck. He wanted to tell her that he didn't need to be gentled like a skittish horse, but it would be a lie. She scooted around until she was facing him, and put her arms around him. Hugged him, her lush tits pressed against his chest.
His physical reaction was immediate, and predictable. He struggled to focus on his problem through the rising haze of lust. "Maybe… maybe they, uh, tagged my car," he mumbled.
She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "That's enough of that," she said. "It's three-thirty in the morning, and you need to get some rest, no matter who was on the other end of that phone."
He settled his hands in the curve of her slender waist. "Erin—"
"You've got alarms on the doors and windows. You've got your gun right at your elbow. If you can't relax now, then when can you?"
"Never," he said. "How am I supposed to sleep? I'm as pumped up as a racehorse at the starting gate."
She curled her fingers around his stiff cock, and squeezed him with seductive tenderness. Her siren's smile made his brain melt down to molten lava. "Could you if we, ah…"
"Don't tempt me," he growled. "We've been at it for hours. I don't want to hurt you."
She laughed softly. "That is so sweet of you," she whispered against his mouth. "And so misguided. You are so cute, Connor."
She kissed him. Her lips were so delicate and soft, her tongue flicking against his with shy insistence. She cut through his resistance with no effort at all. He dragged her closer and kissed her back. Frantically, like someone was trying to take her from him.
Someone is, a laconic voice in his mind observed.
He shoved the voice away. This moment was his, and he would allow nothing to diminish it. She flung her thigh over his lap, and her wiggling and writhing almost got him off then and there. He fought the excitement down to a dull, pounding roar in his ears.
Then she seized his cock and attempted to push him inside her. He flung his head back with a startled gasp, and hung on to his self-control. She was too tight to take in much of him in this position, but it was amazing. A hot, suckling kiss, just the head of his cock gripped tightly inside her. She moved against him, tentative and awkward, and his heart practically exploded with tenderness. She was so generous and sexy and gorgeous. All he wanted was to sprawl over backwards on the bed and let her have her wicked way with him, but he didn't dare, not without a condom. He had to be on top, to control the timing and the angle. He was on the brink of exploding inside her right now.
He was still shaking with adrenaline, but Erin had shoved that hellish phone call into another room in his mind and slammed the door on it. It waited for him, grim and patient. It wasn't going anywhere.
Let it wait. He cupped the curves of her ass cheeks, and stood, lifting her with him. Still joined just a couple of wet, tantalizing inches. He turned around and laid her down on the rumpled bed, never once breaking that hot, clinging contact. He stayed on his feet as he sank his full length into her welcoming body.
Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe just the sight of her smiling, holding out her arms to him, but the whole thing flew right out of control. Out of nowhere, he found himself panting and heaving and pumping against her; she was making those soft, sobbing sounds, and the bed was rattling and shaking. He knew he should slow down and make her come first, but it was beyond him. He would make it up to her later a thousand times over. This time was all for him. He craved the oblivion of this hot, slick, mindless thrusting, the deafening crash and roar as his orgasm blasted through him, obliterating thought.
Every instinct screamed to just let go, fill her with his come.
He wrenched out at the last possible instant and spurted across her damp, trembling body.
God, that had been close. More intense every goddamn time.
He sank down to trembling knees and pressed his face against the amazingly soft skin of her inner thigh. The warm, rich sea smell of her sex was intoxicating. He trailed his fingers over her cleft, caressing the soft fuzz of damp ringlets. She was still shaking. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, stroking him. He could lose himself exploring her body, and never get tired of it. He could eat her again right now. Just bury his face in her beautiful, juicy cunt and worship it.
Then it hit him, what was waiting for him, behind that door in his mind. The phone call. He'd been better off in the drugged haze of sex.
He stood up. She started to follow, and he pushed her back down onto the bed. "Stay there," he said.
"But I have to—"
"I'll wash you," he told her. "I just need a minute alone. Please."
He stumbled into the bathroom and winced at the mirror. His eyes looked crazed. He looked like a guy who heard impossible voices in the night, who mixed up dreams with reality. A guy who would kidnap a vulnerable girl, drag her off to a secluded hotel room and fuck her all night long. How many times—nah, no point in counting. One just blended into the next. It was one long fuck session, interrupted by conversation and the odd nap. And the occasional death threat from a homicidal maniac, of course. Just to liven things up.
He choked on his own bitter laughter, and hunched over the sink. He washed his cock and splashed water on his face, then took a deep breath, and put his hand on the doorknob.
He stopped, running over that goddamn phone call in his mind. It was improbable, ridiculous, to think that Novak could have found them here. No one had known. He had only decided himself at the last moment. But the alternative was even scarier—at least to him. That what he'd heard wasn't real. He turned on the water and splashed his face again. He was afraid to go out and face her. Ashamed that she might think that he was…
No. He turned his back on the unthinkable. He couldn't afford to doubt himself. He shook it off, a fierce, angry shudder of refusal.
He had promised to wash her. He ran hot water over one of the washcloths hanging on the rack, and shoved the door open.
Erin was perched on the bed, knees drawn up to her chest. He knelt in front of her and sponged every trace of his come off her belly, her breasts. She stretched and smiled, opening to his touch. He wanted to sponge her between her legs, too, but the washcloth was sticky. He flung it aside. His tongue was warm and wet, and would do just as well.
She gasped as he pushed her legs open and put his mouth to her again. "Connor! For God's sake—"
"Let me." God, she was juicy and sweet.
Erin sagged back onto the bed. She was tugging at his hair, saying something urgent, pleading, but it degenerated into shocked gasps of pleasure soon enough. He owed her an orgasm after his latest caveman performance. It was a matter of pride.
He laved her with his mouth, every precious pink fold, every delicate detail. He fastened his lips and tongue around her clit, and the taut, swollen nub thrummed against his mouth. He suckled and nibbled and insisted until she came, right against his face.
He slid up into her arms and hid his face against her breasts. She pulled the blankets over them, murmuring sweet words that almost untangled the knot of fear in his chest.
The world was getting weirder by the minute, but this, at least, was amazing and sweet. He would take all the comfort he could from it.
He waited until she was fast asleep, and gently untangled himself from her slender limbs. He propped his back against the headboard and stared with hot, suspicious eyes into the ominous shadows. Sleep was a million miles away. His gun was inches from his hand. He monitored the soft rise and fall of her breath with his other hand.