“So fucking beautiful,” he says, stroking a hand over my cheek before pushing my hair to the side. His mouth moves to my neck, brushing over my sensitive skin and igniting fresh heat under my skin. “Take me out.”
It takes me a moment to make sense of what he’s asking me and when I do, I flush fiercely. My hands tremble as I reach between us and unfasten his jeans. I tug down a zipper and after a quick mental pep talk, slide my hand into his pants.
He’s warm and hard. And massive.
I gasp when his shaft jumps in my hands as his breathing grows fevered against my skin. “Stroke me, little bird,” he pants into my ear, his hand tightening around my waist. “I’m so close, baby.”
“Okay,” I say shyly, wrapping my hand around him. He jerks against my palm, and I use the slickness gathered at his tip to stroke him.
“Fuck!” he grunts, thrusting up into my hand, his breathing fevered against my skin. His need feeds mine. It’s hot and intimate. More intimate than I ever imagined myself being with someone, but I like it—I like the feel of a strong man trembling in my arms, and when I squeeze his shaft experimentally, he roars into my neck as his release spills over my hand. He grips me hard, thrusting into my palm as he kisses me, biting and licking at my sensitive skin through his shudders.
It’s beautiful.
For several moments, I forget the demons haunting me. Even long after the tremors have faded and my head is lying on his shoulder, I stay in the beauty of the moment. Soaking up the feeling of those muscles holding me tight and protectively close. The scent of our lovemaking clouds the air between us and my mind so that when I close my eyes, it’s still the rough, the dangerous man who saved me I see.
It’s him that’s on my mind when I fall asleep.
Chapter Four
Beau
She’s still sound asleep when I come back from my routine morning run, tangled in the blankets, exhaustion evident in every relaxed line of her body. I don’t imagine my little bird has had any rest since the day I found her. And yet, even in sleep, she appears restless.
I stop to watch her, beautiful under the morning light with the rich tones of her red hair spread across the pillow. A stray hair, in its deep mahogany, has fallen across her cheek, and I find myself tempted to reach out and gently brush it back, but I hesitate, not wanting to wake her. The curve of her shoulder peeking from the blanket is soft, and I am reminded yet again how she felt in my arms last night.
She’s so beautiful, even in the quiet moments before the day truly begins. The worry lines I’ve seen on her face since that first day are smoothed out in sleep, and her soft skin tempts me to touch.. Instead, force myself to turn away and head to the shower.
She doesn’t stir when I come back into the room, barely shifting a muscle as I move through my morning routine. I leave her to rest a little longer as I head down to feed the dogs. I make sure to pull the door closed behind me so one of them doesn’t sneak in and wake her.
I want to regret last night. Call it a moment of weakness, one that caught us both hurting, but I can’t bring myself to regret it.
Still, I will admit that I wasn’t at my best last night. She found me while I was deep in thought over the loss of the man Iconsidered my brother. The ache comes and goes, but it’s brutal at times. The memory of the man’s life fading in my arms, the truth in his eyes when he realized he would never get to watch his little boy grow into a man.
Fuck!
I shake my head as my thoughts threaten to shift to what had me drinking alone in the kitchen. Instead, I focus on feeding the dogs, then move on to preparing breakfast.
I’m on my second cup of coffee when Rosalie walks into the kitchen, her hair still damp from a shower and eyes still sleepy when they find mine. She’s wearing a blue sweater that matches her eyes and shorts that reveal those long, sexy legs I had wrapped around me last night as I ate out her juicy pussy.
“Morning,” she grumbles, dropping onto a stool and reaching down to pet Athena’s head when she nudges Rosalie’s hand.
“Good morning,” I respond behind my mug, watching her. “Did you get enough sleep?”
“I guess,” she says, patting Athena affectionately before turning to me. “Is there any news? About Kristin?”
“I called the detective in charge first thing this morning. They discovered one of the men’s hideouts, but something must’ve spooked them because they left in a hurry, leaving most of their things behind.”
“And Kristin?”
I shake my head, hating the way her head falls in disappointment. I debate telling her the next part, uncertain about giving her any hope, but then again, it’s the only thing I can offer her at the moment. “They found a couple of things, one of which is a purse they believe belongs to your friend.”
She sits up, suddenly alert. “They did?”
“As I said, the men left in a hurry so they didn’t have time to pack.” I set down my mug down and walk around to her,cupping her cheek and stroking her skin, seeking to comfort her despite myself. “It’s only a matter of time before they find her.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because men on the run make mistakes,” I assure her. “I made breakfast. You should eat. You skipped lunch and dinner yesterday.”
