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“Come for me, angel,” he said, his breath sawing out of him now.
Her head tilted back into the pillows, exposing the long length of her throat, and a low, glorious cry filled the room. He sank forward, going straight for the spot where neck met shoulder, the creamy skin beckoning him, and bit down. Her moan turned guttural, and he released her wrists. Her hands clamped on to his back instantly, her nails digging into his skin, and the nip of pain sent his own orgasm thundering down his spine. Pleasure exploded through him, and he groaned as everything went white behind his eyes, filling her with his release.
Later. Seconds? Minutes? He didn’t know or care, they both got out of bed and took a long bath together in the hotel’s Jacuzzi tub. Neither of them seemed in the mood to talk, both content to bask in the quiet of each other’s embrace. He knew she had a lot on her mind. So did he. And he wasn’t going to push her for anything more tonight. He’d already gotten way more than he had ever anticipated. The look she’d given him when they’d joined together could keep him surviving on hope for a while longer.
But when they both climbed under the covers, and he wrapped his arms around her, he couldn’t help but say what had been sitting there on his chest all night. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I’m in love with you, Cela.”
The stiffening of her muscles was slight, but he didn’t miss it.
And that worried him more than anything had all night.
Even more than the fact that she didn’t say anything back.
PART VIII
NOT UNTIL YOU LOVE
THIRTY-EIGHT
I woke up groggy and disoriented, a loud sound filling my ears and the bed jostling. I rolled over to find Foster groping around the hotel room in the dark and cursing.
“Who the fuck would call this early? And where the hell is my phone?”
I wrapped the covers around me, the chill of the room raising goose bumps on my skin, and climbed out of bed, dragging the sheet with me. “I think it’s over here on the desk.”
I grabbed it for him, but it’d stopped ringing by that time.
“Dammit,” he said from the other side of the room.
I peeked over at the clock. A little past five. Calls this early were never good. For me it usually meant a panicked family and an injured pet, but I had a feeling someone calling Foster this early would be even more ominous.
“Does it say who it was?” he asked, fumbling around for the lamp.
I flipped over the phone and hit the button to illuminate the screen. Ugh. Bile burned the back of my throat. I tossed the phone on the bed. “Yeah. It’s Bret.”
“Bret?” he said, the lamp flicking on, lighting his stricken face. “Shit.”
I pulled the sheet tighter around me, my chill no longer related to the overactive air conditioner. “I’m going to go shower, so if you need to call her back, you’ll have some privacy.”
If he caught the biting edge to my tone, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he was already moving toward the phone, probably not even hearing me.
“Right,” I said under my breath. Guess when she called, the whole world needed to stop. I turned on my heel and headed to the bathroom before the ugly jealousy could cause me to say something I’d regret.
As I stood under the stream of hot water in the shower, I tried to pull myself back together and not picture Foster in bed with that blond knockout. He’d said Bret was a colleague and a friend now, not a lover. If she was calling, it probably wasn’t for a booty call. My logical brain knew that, but my completely irrational heart wasn’t hearing any of it.
He’d told me last night that he loved me. I still couldn’t fully digest that turn of events. My cognitive functioning had frozen when he’d said the words. In a lot of ways, it’d been everything I’d wanted to hear. Being with him last night, feeling his touch, had only solidified how strongly I felt for him. And maybe I had fallen in love with him, too. But I had no idea if that was enough. I had moved my life here. And a relationship with Foster meant a certain kind of lifestyle that my brain and body were at war over.
I couldn’t—wouldn’t—say the words to him if I wasn’t going to be able to back them up with a commitment. I didn’t want to be another hurt in his life.
By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, Foster was fully dressed and tossing clothes into his suitcase. Any remnants of my jealous bitch side shut her mouth and concern flooded me. “What’s going on?”
He turned to look at me, face drawn. “Bret said she found some information about my sister’s case and had to go to the FBI with it. They wouldn’t let her give me the details over the phone. I have to get back to town.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Of course. Is there anything I can do to help?”
He walked over to me, taking my face in his hands, and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “You can forgive me for leaving before we have a chance to talk things out.”
“Done,” I said without hesitation. We could deal with the complicated tangle of our relationship another day. “She didn’t give you any indication of what type of news this was.”
