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When they first hit the bed earlier tonight, she’d been determined that she would do all the work to save his leg from any more pain. And the first time they’d made love had been the same as last night, with her on top, riding him to an explosive orgasm that nearly blew her mind. But that resolution had gone out the window fifteen minutes later, when he’d got up onto his hands and knees and sank his head between her legs. Oh, the pure extravagance of his tongue inside her had driven her to heights she’d never dreamed of with Craig. Nor with anyone, if she truly thought about it.
The third time, they had somehow ended up on the floor; him taking her from behind. Afterwards, they’d lay on the rug as he spooned her, then she’d had to help him back into the bed, both of them giggling like two teenagers.
“Hey, yourself,” she replied. Her hand slithered from his shoulder, slowly down his belly, then lower, to find his cock, already at half-mast, ready to do her bidding. It seemed Nash was a little insatiable, as well.
Perhaps it was time to give him a break. She didn’t want to wear him out.
“I’m hungry,” she said, sitting up suddenly. “Do you want dessert in bed?” Skylar had made a self-saucing chocolate pudding. But they’d barely made it past the main course; Skylar knew Nash had only stayed at the table long enough to eat her steak with blue cheese sauce, and edamame and nori salad to be polite, because she’d spent so much time preparing it. They’d spent most of the meal trying—and failing—to ignore the boiling sexual tension around them.
“Mmhmm,” he mumbled. “Sustenance would be good. Need to keep my blood sugar levels up, so I can keep up with you.” He winked at her, and she slapped his shoulder.
She slipped Nash’s shirt over her head and padded down the hallway to the kitchen. Five minutes later, she was back, bearing two desserts and a glass of milk each. Nash was already sitting up in bed and she handed him his warm pudding, then took off the T-shirt and hopped in beside him.
The decadence of sitting in bed naked with Nash by her side, gorging on chocolaty heaven, suddenly hit Skylar. She’d missed this simple act. The intimacy of it all. Such a normal thing for many couples to do. How would it feel to be able to do this whenever she wanted?
“Oh. My. God,” Nash moaned. “This is the best thing I think I’ve ever tasted.”
Skylar felt an absurd flush of pride.
They both leaned back into their pillows, hands over bellies, with a sigh of satisfaction. Yep, the chocolate pudding had been delicious. She licked the last bit from her lips, enjoying that final taste.
“I forgot I made one for Constable Newman. It’s probably too late to take it out to him now,” she said with a chuckle.
“Yes, you’re much better off staying here with me.” Nash gathered her up into his arms and they snuggled down into the bed.
But talk of the police guard had Skylar thinking. Nash had had an update from Robinson earlier in the evening, and while some of it had been hopeful, it still hadn’t been the report she was hoping for. The police had found Stan the Man and taken him into custody. Skylar had been ecstatic at the news, but then Nash told her Stan was refusing to talk, and they were still no closer to finding the gunman who’d hunted them through the jungle. Robinson said it was only a matter of time before they cracked Stan; it was a waiting game. And she and Nash were still in limbo.
Robinson had also confirmed what they all feared. Rumors were abounding in the darker underbelly of society—supposedly Robinson had heard from a couple of trusted undercover sources—that Sanders had indeed put out a contract on her and Nash. And by all accounts, it was a large amount of money. Skylar wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted by that. But Sanders was still refusing to talk.
“Whatcha thinking?” Nash asked, propping up on his elbow and stroking the hair away from her face.
How did he do that? As if by magic, he could tell when her mind was elsewhere. It must be a knack that police officers developed. Or maybe, it was just Nash.
“I was thinking about Robinson’s call this afternoon.” There had been one silver lining to it all. “At least the courts have enough evidence to put Dan Sanders in jail.” Robinson told them Sanders had been convicted of both the charges of domestic abuse of his wife, as well as the assault on Skylar, and was now he was awaiting sentencing.
“Yes, thank God for that,” Nash replied. “We’re still putting the case together for Patty’s murder, but all the evidence pointsto Sanders and hopefully, once that’s gone to trial, he’ll spend the rest of his life in jail. I know it’ll never bring Patty back, but at least he’s getting what he deserves.”
Grief surged through Skylar at the memory of Patty. She’d thought she was doing the right thing by forcing Patty to confront her predicament. Confront the monster that was her husband. But in the end, it’d cost her life. Was there no fairness in life? Patty certainly didn’t get what she deserved. Even Nash’s continued stroking of her face wasn’t enough to alleviate her distress over the other woman’s fate.
“But is he? Getting what he deserves?” Skylar sat up and leant against her pillow, no longer feeling peaceful enough to lie there and let Nash soothe her. Nash followed suit. “I’m not sure any of these bastards ever get what they deserve,” she said. “It’s one of the reasons I never told anyone about Craig. Maybe I never truly believed he’d get his comeuppance.”
“And that’s how they continue to get away with their crimes,” Nash said softly. “It’s not until a strong woman, like you, decides to stand up for themselves, they finally get caught out.”
Skylar rubbed her wrist as she considered his words.
“You always do that whenever we talk about Craig,” Nash said, capturing her fingers in his. “It’s like a nervous tic, or something.” She didn’t pull away from him, because he was right.
She’d never told anyone that Craig had broken her wrist. Even when she took herself to emergency, she said she’d fallen down a set of stairs. It was a busy Saturday night at the Cairns hospital and the attending doctor hadn’t even questioned her; he’d been so distracted by a flurry of cases of minor stab wounds after a drunken party that’d gotten out of hand.
Nash brought her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her knuckles. That small gesture gave her the strength to say the words.
“The part that hurt the most, was the fact he didn’t even apologize afterwards,” she said in a small voice. “It was as if it never happened.”
“I’m so sorry he hurt you,” Nash said, and the irony wasn’t lost on Skylar. Nash thought nothing of showing his compassion; the exact opposite of how Craig had responded.
“Thank you.” She glanced up into his blue eyes. “I really don’t know what I saw in him.” She bit her lip and then decided to tell him it all. “Craig was older than me. He was head chef in an up-and-coming trendy restaurant. And at first, I think I was blinded by his celebrity. I couldn’t believe he’d want to be with someone like me.”
Nash snorted, but kept his words to himself, encouraging her with a tilt of his head to continue with her story.
