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"Come for me, Isabella."
His command propelled her forward, the climax seizing every muscle as she bucked and cried out, his hands holding her tightly to the mattress in a delicious bond of restraint.
The sound of a ripping wrapper hit the air. He reared up, looking into her face, pausing at her dripping entrance.
"Again."
He surged forward, inch by inch, filling her completely. The stretching of interior muscles, the burning heat of him, the bruises on her hips as he held her tight for his invasion--all of it blew through her mind and scattered to the wind under the sheer intensity of his claiming.
Izzy studied his gorgeous face. Jaw tight with tension, biceps flexed, skin damp with sweat, he fucked her with a merciless beauty she knew she'd never forget. He owned her in that moment like no man before, and Izzy had a stream of startling thoughts right before the second climax exploded through her.
Rightness.
Belonging.
Silence.
Then she closed her eyes and let go.
IZZY HAD SEX in order to stop the chaos.
But sex with Liam was different.
She was used to parting quickly afterward. Rarely did she stay the night to sleep or spend too long cuddling. She lacked a part of intimacy most women seemed to be built with and preferred to go off on her own after her satisfaction, usually falling into a deep, pleasant slumber.
This time she found herself wrapped around him. Head on chest. Leg squeezed between his thighs. Arm draped over his shoulder. How long had passed in comfortable silence? Fifteen minutes? Half an hour? She didn't know. Instead of inane conversation or comments about how good it had been or a speedy exit, they just lay together, not speaking.
"Whose room is this?"
His voice was a whisper in her ear. She smiled in the dark. "A girl named Tammy. I just met her, but she let me use her room."
"So there are no crazy boyfriends stalking you, ready to beat my ass?"
Izzy didn't do boyfriends.
Until now.
Not that she was getting caught up in the great sex or anything. It was more of a feeling inside than a physical urge. Something had shifted. Liam seemed able to quiet all those messy tendrils of unsettlement.
"No. I move around too much to drag a man with me."
"What's next on your itinerary?"
She loved the way he spoke--elegant and cultured, as if he weren't naked in bed with her and hadn't done dirty, delicious things to make her scream. "Not sure. Probably get a job for a while. Save some money."
"Manhattan has tons of opportunity for work."
She stiffened but kept her voice casual. "Manhattan, huh?"
"Yep. I'm heading there next week for the academy. Lined up a decent place. There's plenty of culture, and restaurants, and . . . dancing opportunities."
She couldn't help it. She laughed, then twisted around to meet his gaze. "We just met, screwed, and now you're asking me to follow you to the city while you train to be a cop?"
He winced. "I don't like the word screw."
"Where did you come from, Liam?"
He sighed. "That's what my brother asks me a lot."
"Inviting a strange woman into your life can be dangerous."
His full lips parted in a smile as she used his own words against him. "Maybe I'm a dangerous type of guy. Maybe I'm ready for my own adventure." His finger traced the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw. His blue eyes filled with a tenderness she hadn't seen in a very long time. This man had a heart and soul to give some lucky woman. He didn't realize how broken she was. How trouble stuck to her very aura like static cling.
But oh, how her heart suddenly leaped in her chest. To be with him for as long as it lasted. Or at least a little while longer. "I'm not good at commitments."
"Not asking for one."
"What are you asking for, then?"
"Time."
Yes. Time. What a perfect answer to satisfy both of them. Time to explore, grow closer, grow apart. She'd talk to Raven. Her friend had been getting itchy herself lately--looking to settle down into a more permanent job. Maybe this would be a good opportunity. "I've been wanting to spend some time working on my comedy routines. They have tons of clubs there ripe for a new stint."
He blinked. "Are you funny?"
She sighed. "Not really. But it's been on my bucket list."
His smile reminded her of sunshine and rainbows after a hard rain. "Then I'll sit in the audience of the improv and arrest anyone who tries to throw rotten apples at you."
She giggled. Izzy hadn't known she had any giggles left from her childhood. Somehow he'd wrested one out of her. His eyes blazed blue flames and he lowered his head to kiss her again.
A loud banging filled the air. "Izzy! Open up; it's Rick. Got something for you."
"Hang on a sec." She looked around for something to cover herself with, finally grabbing a ratty blue blanket and wrapping it tightly around her body. She opened the door a few inches and peeked out.
Rick grinned. His ginger hair, pale skin, and black-framed glasses made him look more like a professor than a student. "Hey, Izzy. Bunch of people been looking for you."
"Sorry, I'm tied up. Does Tammy need me? Or Raven?"
His gaze probed the empty space, then he gave a knowing laugh. "Ah, got it. When you're done being tied up, come to room 3A. Tammy wants to hang with you. For now, here's a start-up. Consider it a freebie."
He shoved the brown paper bag at her.
She grabbed it.
Then trembled. Her fingers clutched it with sheer possessiveness but she tried to fight the impulse. "Umm, I don't need this right now. Thanks anyway."
The knowledge in his eyes held no mockery or judgment. "Sure you don't. Like I said, it's just a gift. For now."
"But--"
He turned and walked away, leaving the bag behind.
Izzy shut the door and dropped the package on the table. Stared at it for a moment. She didn't have to open it. It wasn't a big deal that she happened to like some weed now and then like most of the population. Sure, she'd done some coke, too, but she had things under control. Wasn't like she was a meth head, and hell knows she didn't shoot anything up. Needles were a deal breaker.
Freebie.
Her fingers shook slightly as she removed the contents and registered what she held. The small vial of pure-white powder beckoned. Not now, of course. She'd wait till the bad stuff crept in her head again, and a simple sniff would push it all away for a long time. Was it so terrible to need a bit of help to cope?
And afterward, she not only coped. She excelled. She was smarter and clearer and happy. People used drugs all the time, whether it be antidepressants, or weed, or over-the-counter cold meds. Some drank. She took a bit of cocaine now and then. No big deal.
"Isabella? Are you okay?"
She shoved the vial back and turned with a smile. "Sorry, just some friends checking on me."
"What's in the bag?"
She tossed it toward the back of the table and dropped the blanket. "Not important. I'm sorry we got interrupted." Knowing she had a wonderful secret that was waiting for her, she was hungry for more of him. Hungry for his mouth and skin, to tumble back to the mattress and embrace the way he filled her up. She dropped one knee on the bed.
Instead of pulling her close, he sat up with a frown. His mussed hair gave bed head a sexy new image. "You look different. What's in the bag?"
She paused. Studied him. What was he doing? Why was he obsessing over her personal business? Her voice became edged with razor sharpness. "It's nothing, Liam. Forget it. Why are you making such a big deal out of a bag?"
"If it's not a big deal, why don't you tell me what's in it?"
