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“Wright and I are going back and forth. Is it a stakeholder at Jefferson and Sons who’s pissed at the techs for sending out faulty equipment? For ruining a family business passed down from generation to generation? Or someone close to you or your family trying to get justice? We’ve been straight out with interviews, following up on tips, reports.”
“So what’s next?” Maybe she meant with the case. Maybe she meant their rollercoaster relationship.
“I’m hoping forensics can answer some outstanding questions for us. Give me one more night, one more day. I know I can’t keep you here, even if I want to. Whether you were known to the killer at the beginning or not, I have a sick feeling in my gut. One that’s telling me to keep you close. Things are escalating. Mistakes are going to be made. We’re going to catch the person doing this, and I don’t want you caught in the crosshairs.”
She should be getting used to his intense expression, but a thrill still slid through her as he focused on her and nothing else. “Okay.”
“Yeah? You’ll stay?” He raised a brow, like getting her to accept his offer was too easy. She was independent, but she wasn’t stupid. Maybe she was relying on him too much, but after the explosion, she wasn’t overly thrilled with the prospect of being alone.
“So long as you sleep in your bed and let me take the couch.” She couldn’t let him ignore his own health for her comfort. The sofa was more than fine.
“Not tonight. Come to bed with me.” His fingers skimmed over her jaw and down her neck, and her skin shimmered with anticipation. “Let me love you.” He picked her up, scooped her right off the chair.
“Wait,” she said, and he stopped in his tracks. “I don’t want you to risk your career, your values.”
“Some things are more important.” His low tone was meant only for her as they closed the rest of the distance to his room. Something had shifted, she could sense it. Never had she been carried so tenderly, like she was feather-light and precious. He kicked his bedroom door shut with his foot then crossed the room, placing her in the middle of his bed. The mattress dipped as he lay down beside her, rolling onto his hip so they were facing each other. He grasped her chin, tilting her head up. His eyes were brimming with more than just desire, admiration, respect—all the things that made her choked up inside.
“Sasha,” he whispered, leaning closer. He claimed her lips with gentle possession. Took his time kissing her, stroking lazy caresses over her stomach and hips. Exploring all the places begging to be touched and tasted. He nipped her collarbone, swept kisses down her body, then paused to swirl his tongue over her breasts heavy with want. Those lips closed around the already swollen points, suckling them to stiff peaks. With each lave of his tongue, that low, liquid pull heated her from the inside out. She could already feel the wetness between her thighs, ready for him to slide home and put an end to the constant ache of the past few weeks. He released her nipple with a light pop, skimming down her ribcage and belly, making room for himself between her legs. Gus licked her inner thighs, pausing over her sex as he drew a deep breath into his lungs and groaned. She was too desperate for what was to come to be embarrassed by the intimate act. One at a time, he put her legs over his shoulders and lowered his head.
“I love your scent. Musky. Sweet.” Gus dragged his tongue up one slick fold and down the other, her hips bowing up to meet him. “How you taste.” His breath, the vibration of his words had her pushing closer even still, frantic for more. “All I’ve thought of, craved since that first night.”
Finally, finally his mouth closed around her clit, alternating between flicking his tongue over the bundle of engorged nerves and sucking. She choked out a sob, a plea to give her what she needed. What only he had ever been able to provide. He plunged two fingers inside her, curling them slightly. And then she was trembling, coming in strong waves that threatened to drown her. “Your fucking stunning, sweetheart.”
When she was boneless with pleasure, he rose up and reached for the dresser drawer, but she caught his forearm.
“Just you and me.” Maybe she couldn’t tell him with words how she felt, or fully let herself be vulnerable, but there was nothing she wanted more than his body intertwined with hers. “No barriers. Nothing separating us.”
He stilled, eyes going dark. “I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way. I’m clean. Have never taken another without protection.” His voice was hushed and strained. She loved when his careful control was on the brink of snapping. Loved the primal side of him that was more animal than human.
“Same. I’m on the pill to take the edge off of my periods. It’s been over ten years since I’ve been with someone, and even then, I’ve always made sure a condom was used.”
“Your trust. It’s everything. Sasha, I—”
She cut him off with a kiss, and her soul broke a little. She was a coward, afraid of whatever was going to come out of his mouth next. And that look in his eyes, that overwhelming certainty stamped on his expression, panicked her. He wanted to give her words from his heart, words she could never return. Placing both hands on his chest, she pushed him back so he was sitting on the bed, and climbed into his lap, wrapping both legs around his waist. The beat of his heart pulsed against her skin, and when he entered her, filled her so completely, their eyes were locked.
The pace might’ve been slower than their first time, but that did nothing to cool the blaze between them. He was coaxing her beyond her walls, making her feel not only pleasure but all the emotions she’d worked so hard to bury deep. They rocked in tandem, his hands tangled in her hair, hers cupping his face as they kissed. When they reached the edge of reason, it was together.
An hour later, she lay in his arms, committing his scent—cedar and something masculine and all his own—to memory. She swallowed back the lump in her throat, refusing to admit how important Gus had become. Her heart slammed into her ribcage, making its wishes known. She’d done her best to keep her emotions from escaping their strongholds, but Gus had a way of freeing them, and in doing so, he’d released her worst fear. Loss.
Chapter Sixteen
Gus tightened his arms around Sasha, her heart pulsing against his chest. When he got home from work, tired and heartsick over another brutal death, she was there. Standing in his kitchen, looking so perfect, so at home it nearly broke him. She’d taken the time to care for him and Julie by making a meal. No one had cooked for them in a long, long time. He could picture her in his house, sharing dinner at the table, in his bed each night. He never intended to fall back into the physical relationship they started, but when he heard the glass break, his mind went to a dark place. Visions of intruders, Sasha hurt and bleeding, had swamped him. He’d burst from his room ready to kill whoever touched a hair on her head, and then he’d seen the glass and been so fucking relieved he couldn’t keep his hands off her.
The depth of the emotions coursing through his blood was enough to knock him flat on his ass. He wasn’t ready to stop and explore the sated feeling he got when they were together, like everything was right with the world—even though it wasn’t. Or the cold trickle that seeped through his soul when he imagined losing her. There was more at stake at the present moment than his feelings, though. They had a killer to catch. Someone who was trying to exercise their own vision of justice. He was scared to death that Sasha was a target, but he swore right then and there nothing would touch her.
Something wet trailed down his chest, and he drew back to find Sasha’s eyes glassy with tears. He kissed her forehead, smoothed her hair. “What is it?” Her little sniffle snapped his protective side to life.
“I’m just being silly.” She swiped away the tears as they rolled down her cheeks.
“It’s absolutely not silly if it’s making you upset.” His tone was harsher than he intended. The tears in her eyes were a knife to the chest. When she was upset, it resonated inside him, too. He wanted to soothe her hurts. Protect her.
She snuggled closer, and his heart roared in approval. “It’s just that, for the first time in a long time, I have a reason besides my art to want to experience life. My paintings are for others, but you? My time with you is purely for me, for the joy it brings me. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I’m scared to death.”
Everything inside him seized up as he waited for her to continue.
“I haven’t really lived since the fire, I haven’t let myself feel. And then you changed that. You tore all those emotions straight from my heart, and I’m terrified by it.”
Her honesty humbled him. Sasha was a private person, and while she was saying nothing of what would happen in the future or commitment, her words went straight to his heart.
