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Dropping her forehead against the tile wall, she rode out the last of her release until the hard, pounding waves became gentle swells.
Jace nuzzled her throat, his beard bristly on her overly sensitive skin. “I don’t want to leave your pussy yet.”
“Then don’t,” she rasped.
“I have to.” In contradiction to his words, he thrust inside her again. She cried out.
He kissed her neck very softly before withdrawing. Her body missed him stretching her as soon as he left it. But he turned her into his arms and kissed her long and deep. She didn’t realize she was shivering until he stroked his hands down her arms over and over.
When they broke from the kiss, she searched his eyes. They gleamed with a light that made her stomach dip.
“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight,” she murmured.
He brushed his lips between her brows in a tender kiss. “You can always leave your door cracked for Heming—owww!” He cut off when she sank her nails into his hard ass.
She made a move to exit the shower, but he hauled her up against him once more. Amusement danced in his eyes. “So what do you say, Bronte? Am I your type now?”
* * * * *
Jace sloshed coffee into a mug and brought the strong black brew to his lips. After the night he had, he needed more than caffeine—he should probably start updating his resume because he’d be out of work the minute his boss found out he slipped up and slept with his ward.
Then again, half of the WEST team had committed the same infraction. What was one more?
It botheredhimthough. He had better ethics. He’d never fallen in love, and in lust rarely.
And he never spent the night with a woman. It was a rule of his, one that kept him out of trouble. He’d watched his brothers fuck up enough to know that when a woman woke up beside a man, they got all the warm fuzzy feelings. If the woman happened to be crazy, getting away from her was a pain. His younger brother Jennings had dealt with the repercussions of one-night stands at least twice, and those were only the instances that he shared with his brothers. There could be more.
A brush of hair tickled his bare foot, and he glanced down to see Bronte’s cat swishing his tail back and forth on his leg.
“I slept with your owner,” he told the cat.
He looked up at him, his big eyes and smashed face more endearing than Jace wanted to admit.
Just like Hemingway’s owner.
When Bronte told him she didn’t want to sleep alone, it was as if she cast a spell over him. His protective instinct to keep her safe tripled and he’d given in to guarding her even in sleep, when a cat at the foot of her bed would have done the same thing.
Instead, he woke up several times with the beautiful woman tangled around him, a curvy thigh slung across his groin so his cock was about to burst. And when he finally did manage to drift off, he woke to a hot, wet lick across his nipple.
Expecting to find the cat in bed with them, he instead looked down to see Bronte sleeping peacefully with her head pillowed on his chest. She’d licked him in her sleep.
Of course his cock was still hard enough to pound nails this morning, and his thoughts weren’t helping.
He knocked back more coffee and watched the sun rise over the city. He’d witnessed a lot of sunrises in his life, and while the one rising over the mountains in Stone Pass held a place of honor in his heart, he couldn’t deny this one was pretty in its own way.
After finishing his coffee, he had a better grip on reality. Today he needed to tell Bronte that she wasn’t going into the Artemis office. Or even working from home. The Broker knew where she lived, where she worked and probably knew her schedule too.
Jace didn’t believe for a minute that the man terrorizing Bronte, who’d attacked his brother’s woman Ari and been connected to the death of a congressman’s daughter, wasn’t responsible for that attack in the car. He didn’t have proof as of yet, but he had confidence that his team would find the link.
Speaking of WEST, what was taking them so long? He set aside his mug and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. Montana’s time zone was an hour ahead of California’s and he knew Corrine Wynton would already be up with the roosters to feed her prized horses and now in the WEST Protection office, hard at work.
Just as he expected, Corrine answered his call. “Talk to me, Jace,” she said in her no-nonsense way.
“Mornin’, Corrine. I’m calling to see if there’s any news on the driver.”
“We’ve got an ID match with prints and facial recognition. His name is Steven Moyer. Arrested twice before, once on drug charges, once on theft.”
“So he was probably working for money.”
