by Mia Sheridan
And then as quick as that, her mouth was on his, and she was pressing herself more fully against him. He let out a deep groan of need, their tongues meeting, tangling, as she angled her head so he could explore her mouth. The taste of her went straight to his groin and he swelled against his zipper. They stumbled backward, Zach’s backside hitting the counter. He brought his hands up, weaving his fingers through the silk of her hair, their mouths mating hungrily. He was so damn hard, his erection pulsing hotly. He attempted to press his hips back, worried he would frighten her, that the evidence of his arousal would make her draw away, but she seemed as desperate as him, her hips following the movement of his own. When she pressed firmly against his erection, he hissed out a breath, their mouths breaking apart as their gazes met. Josie’s eyes were half open, full of lust, her mouth red and wet from his kiss. She was so beautiful, and an arrow of possession quivered through him, a deep throb of need that weakened his knees and took him off balance. He tilted his head back, letting it fall against the upper cabinet, his breath coming quick and harsh. Blood pumped swiftly through his veins, making him want to thrust and take. God, he was turned on. Had he ever felt this hot for a woman? He didn’t think so. But he wanted—needed—to give her a minute to change her mind about this, to slow things down if she needed to, because Lord knew, he could hardly think, and frankly, he was shocked she’d initiated this. As she looked at him, something mixed with the lust in her expression . . . a decisiveness, then a certainty. He might be half drunk on lust himself, but he was good at reading faces—it was what made him a good detective.
She brought her lips to his neck and pressed against him once more and he groaned, bringing his head forward and finding her lips. They kissed and touched, hands roaming, Josie leading him out of the kitchen as she walked them backward, their mouths still connected. When they made it to the hall, she pulled away from him, their lips coming apart with a wet popping sound as she glanced from his room to hers, seeming to settle on her room as she led him there. He paused outside it, kissing her slowly against the wall next to the door, once again giving her a second to let her head clear, to change her mind if she wanted to. But she made a small sound of impatience, tearing her lips from his and leading him into the room where she pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, leaning forward so they could kiss some more. Zach ran his hands over her ass, his hips circling instinctively, pressing upward, seeking relief. Goddammit, he felt like he was going to come in his pants, lust pulsing so strongly through every pore of his body and flowing straight between his legs where his erection throbbed and ached. Josie pulled her lips from his, scooting back slightly so she could undo his jeans. He attempted to make eye contact with her, but she seemed to be on a mission, and for a moment the lust fog cleared just enough that he could really look at her. Her nipples were hard points beneath her shirt, her skin flushed with arousal, but the look on her face was intensely focused, something almost desperate in her gaze that he suspected had more to do with fulfilling this sex act, than her enjoyment of it.
“Josie, wait—”
She ran her hand over his hard length, eliciting a groan. She met his eyes as her hand stroked him, bliss swirling, causing him to forget what he’d been about to say. “Do you want this?” she asked.
Wasn’t that his line? “Yes, God, yes, but—"
She swung a leg off him and maneuvered herself until she’d removed his pants. He sat up slightly, pulling his shirt off so he was lying underneath her, completely naked. “Condom,” he said, pointing to his pants. “Wallet.”
She removed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled the condom out, opening it quickly and sheathing him, her hands trembling as she did so. She climbed back on top, her hand wrapping around his hot, throbbing dick and stroking once more. He put his hand on top of hers, stilling her. Despite the short pause, and the condom over his skin, he was close. “Josie, I’ll come if you keep doing that.”
She smiled then, a small tilting of her lips as she climbed off him and removed her workout pants and her sweatshirt, but left her bra on. Her eyes moved to his erection and nervousness skittered across her expression before she quickly schooled it, climbing back on top of him. She took him in her hand and he watched her as she lowered herself onto him, his vision blurring at the searing pleasure of her hot, wet body squeezing tightly around him.
“God, you feel good,” he said, pressing his head back into the mattress as she began moving, panting his name. He brought his hands up and grasped her hips, his thumb finding the scarred skin on her thigh. He circled it, raising his head to look at the place his hand had found by touch, his heart dipping when he realized it was the spot where the words casting blame had been written. Casus belli.
Oh, fuck. Josie.
She slapped his hand away from her scarred thigh, a kind of panic seizing her expression for a moment. She let out a small gasping sound, part annoyance, part sob, as she grabbed his hands and held them down at his sides, her movements becoming jerky, uncoordinated. Zach stilled, watching her as her expression crumbled and her fingers dug into the soft underside of his arms, bringing him solidly into the present. “Josie, hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to—”
“No,” she said loudly, bouncing up and down on him, her movements frantic, expression slightly wild.
Zach attempted to move his hips, to sit up, take her in his arms, soothe her, offer comfort. She hadn’t been ready for this. He cursed himself. He’d gotten too caught up, hadn’t read her right.
“No, please,” she practically sobbed, panic flaring in her eyes. “Please.” She brought her head down, kissing him harshly, sloppily. “Please,” she whispered against his lips, her hips still moving. He felt the tears coursing down her cheeks and his heart twisted at her sadness, at the way this was obviously causing her such deep distress. “Please, Zach,” she whispered again. She wanted this, needed it maybe. Perhaps to prove to herself she could, perhaps to dispel her memories. He was confused, unsure of the right thing to do. Wanting only to lessen her pain. To be there for her in the way she needed him to be. And yet despite it all, his body continued to react to hers, to the feel of her grasping warmth surrounding him, to her scent, her.
He hesitated, uncertain, but then followed his instincts, taking her wrists and flipping her onto her back. She closed her eyes, tears still tracking down her cheeks. She was shaking. “Look at me, Josie,” he said, beginning to move slowly, his hips rotating. She opened her eyes, her expression still distressed, confused. “Look at me, in my eyes. You’re safe. We can stop anytime you want. Even now.” He pressed inside her and pulled back. “I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you, but I’ll stop if you need me to. You know that, right?” She blinked up at him, her expression clearing, gentling. She nodded her head, her legs coming slowly around his hips as he moved within her.
He couldn’t help the moan that came up from his chest. “That’s it. Feel me, Josie. It’s just us here, no one else. Just us. And I’ll stop if you want me to.”
She watched him for a moment, her eyes moving over his expression, tears ceasing. Her mouth opened and she let out a small sigh. Her inner muscles were so tight, clasped firmly around him as he moved in and out, in and out, setting a slow yet steady rhythm. Their gazes were locked and he watched her face for any hint of distress. But her expression remained calm, gaze trusting, heart and soul right in her eyes. Christ, it was intimate. He felt connected to her in every way possible. Zach had never experienced such profound communion as he did in that moment. It shook him to his core. It made the experience so incredibly intense. His balls drew up tight, his stomach muscles tensing. He was going to come. He tried to hold out, tried to give her more time, but he couldn’t help it. “Josie, oh God,” he gasped. He pulled out and pressed in once more, her muscles sucking at him, milking him, as he groaned long and loud with the extreme pleasure of his orgasm, his skin breaking out in goosebumps.
For a moment he just breathed against her neck, feeling
her heart pumping in time with his, trying to recover from something he had no words to describe. He pulled from her body and brought his head up, looking in her eyes and wiping the last trace of her spent tears from her cheek with his thumb. Their eyes met and something powerful surged between them—an understanding, a bond that had just been forged. He felt it, and he knew she felt it too. Her lips tipped and she smiled at him so sweetly it broke his heart in two. Some emotion gripped him that he had no name for other than love. But it was too soon for that, wasn’t it? Too . . . dangerous. Too complicated. Still, he’d had this sense that their lives had been inextricably tangled since that night eight years ago when he’d stood vigil outside her hospital room, and right then he knew it was true. This woman beneath him had changed something fundamental about him, and a distant part knew that, however this all played out, he’d never again be the same.
He lowered his head and kissed her, slow this time. She took his face in her hands, moving her thumbs over the rough stubble of his jaw as they kissed, long and deep.
He felt her nipples harden against his chest and reached a hand up to unhook her bra and rub his thumb over one beaded peak, back and forth, listening to the tempo of her breathing increase. He lowered his head, taking her nipple in his mouth and laving his tongue around it. For a moment she seemed to hold herself still as he continued to suck gently at her breast. But after a minute, her body relaxed, and when he moved to the other breast, she moaned with pleasure as his mouth closed around that nipple, raking her fingers through his hair as she pressed her breast toward him. He spent long minutes there before trailing his mouth lower, kissing the satin skin of her stomach, and running his nose over it. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “So perfect.”
Josie seemed slightly hesitant as he moved to each part of her body, but he waited for her to relax, waited for the sounds that told him she was finding pleasure in what he was doing, before moving on to another spot. He kissed the scar on her thigh and felt her tremble, but she didn’t stop him. He took his time, and when his head finally dipped between her legs, she opened for him, moaning, her fingernails raking over his scalp as he circled with his tongue the swollen nerves at the apex of her thighs. He moved between licking slowly and sucking gently until she was making small sounds of impatience, her hips rising to meet his mouth. Zach increased his tempo then, until she cried out softly, her hips bucking once as she came, her hands gripping his head as she mewled softly.
After a moment, she stilled, and he moved up her body, kissing her softly on the mouth as she looked at him, her expression glazed, eyes full of something that looked like wonder.
Zach quickly removed the condom he was still wearing and wrapped it in a tissue from a box on the nightstand before bringing the quilt over them both and pulling Josie into his arms. He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and held her closely. In just a few minutes, he felt her breathing change and knew she’d fallen asleep. Only then did Zach close his eyes too, and allow himself to drift into slumber.
She turned to him in the night, opening her legs beneath him and welcoming him into her body. Their lovemaking this second time was slow and tender, Josie’s hands running over his skin, learning the dips and planes of his body. Her trust in him had increased, or maybe it was her trust in herself, but whatever it was, it filled Zach’s chest with gladness. This smart, sensitive, beautiful, damaged woman had found healing in their time together. He’d given her that. More than anything in the world, he’d wanted to be the man who gave her that peace and healing. Love.
When the sun hit his eyes and he squinted into the golden morning light, Zach was alone. He got quickly out of bed, seeking Josie. He found her on the porch, another quilt wrapped around her as she stood at the railing, watching the sun come up behind the mountains. She turned her head when she heard him, a small smile curving her lips.
“Morning,” he said, his voice still grumbly with sleep as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Morning,” she said softly, nuzzling back into him before turning her gaze toward the mountains once more. “Thank you,” she said. “Last night was beautiful.”
He released a breath on a smile. “I think I should be thanking you.”
She smiled, turned, looked him in his eyes. “No, you know what I mean,” she said, cupping his cheek in her hand.
His face sobered. He moved a piece of hair off her cheek, taking in the way the soft yellow light of morning highlighted her beauty, casting the shadows of her face in deep gold. “Yes, I know what you mean.”
She brought the quilt around them, and they held each other as they watched a new day arrive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
They spent the day hiking, dipping their toes in the cold creeks they came across, and soaking in the peace of the surroundings. The landscape was elemental, raw, and it held a sort of simple honesty her spirit had needed.
Josie felt renewed, not only mentally but spiritually. In soul and in . . . body. She thought back to the night before, how much she’d wanted Zach. How beautiful he’d looked as he’d taken her in his arms and smiled at her. How at first the arousal had been like a surge of energy making her feel powerful, alive. How it was the laughter that had convinced her to lean in and kiss him. How things could have gone so badly, how she could have been left feeling more damaged than she had before. How in the end, he’d known just what she needed, how he’d helped her find healing—light—in the midst of the darkness that had begun to encroach.
He'd known, somehow, what she was experiencing and what to do to bring her back to herself, to trust him, to allow him to take the lead.
She’d waited a long time to feel ready to allow a man to touch her sexually, to trust her body in the hands of another who could hurt her if he wanted. And she discovered it wasn’t only sex she’d been afraid of. It was the response of her own body, the memories each part elicited. Her breasts had nursed a child under horrific circumstances, her stomach had stretched with her traumatic pregnancy, her thigh had been carved into, causing pain and heartache. Shame. Every part had been associated with contempt and desolation. She had been terrified to let someone touch her, to attempt to draw pleasure from the places that still represented such harrowing memories.
And yet . . . she’d discovered that she could still feel pleasure. That she wasn’t ruined as she’d once thought. In that way too, she was no longer a victim. And yes, she’d have to learn to fully trust again, but the relief that filled her that morning at the knowledge that she wasn’t permanently and irrevocably broken, could hardly be described. To her, the reawakening of her body filled her with a glorious sense of hope.
And yes, it scared her too because it hadn’t just been her body that had opened to him, it had been her heart.
They sat on two rocks at the summit of the trail they’d hiked, the sun high in the sky as Zach bit off a piece of beef jerky. He chewed thoughtfully, chewed some more . . . and some more. Josie laughed. Zach looked at her, his expression bemused, if not slightly panicked as he continued to chew.
“I think you just have to force it down,” Josie said, a laugh in her voice, hoping she wasn’t going to have to give him the Heimlich out here in the middle of nowhere.
Zach swallowed with obvious effort and then put the dried beef back in the backpack he was carrying. He met her eyes, his lip twitching before he let out a laugh. Her stomach flipped. He was so incredibly handsome, his olive skin smooth and burnished under the midday sun, his short hair glinting blue black in the shifting light. She tilted her head. She wished things could stay the same but knew they couldn’t. “When we get back, things will be different, won’t they?” she asked, her heart trembling with the knowledge that it wouldn’t always be like this, that this time was temporary. Zach’s feelings for her might be temporary too, though she’d told herself that morning as she’d stood at the railing watching the new day arrive, that she would try not to feel sad about that. The gifts he’d already given her were so precious and
plentiful. And the truth was, though she craved it, maybe she wasn’t quite ready for more than what they’d shared either. She looked out to the horizon.
“I don’t know. I . . . things might be complicated. We’ll have to . . .” He sighed and she looked back at him as he ran a hand over his short hair. “We’ll have to see what’s what when we get back.”
She nodded.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out and taking her hands in his, obviously reading her disappointment. “I can’t afford to do anything that might sacrifice your safety or get in the way of solving this case. When this is all over, we’ll figure it out, okay?”
Josie nodded again. “Josie,” he said. “Trust me.”
She looked back at him, her gaze moving over his beautiful face. “I do,” she said honestly. And amazingly, she had from the first moment she’d met Zach. He’d looked her in the eye and had been honest without sugarcoating his words. Yes, he’d been cautious, but rather than belittling her, he’d used discretion and instinct, and she’d appreciated that.
They walked back to the cabin where they spent the afternoon making love. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get enough of the way he elicited pleasure from her body—the body she thought was incapable of feeling that type of pleasure ever again. They didn’t have any more condoms, but she was on the pill. There was really no reason for her to be on birth control. She hadn’t slept with anyone in eight years and thought maybe she never would. But she admitted to herself then that being on the pill had represented the control over her own fertility . . . in case. Being on the pill had represented the fear that something bad could happen to her again. That life was unpredictable, that her safety was always at risk. That’s what a violent crime did to a person, Josie mused. It altered their entire world view. People always said things like, “Everything will work out,” or, “That won’t happen.” But what about when things didn’t work out? Or when the unthinkable did happen? You had to walk around with the knowledge that life could sweep the rug out from under you at any moment. It could, because it had.