It didn’t take her long to pack up Molly’s wish list. Sam didn’t move from the doorway. When she handed the bag of items to Mark, his gaze shot past her shoulder to the suitcase beside the couch, then back to her.
“Thanks.” He took the bag from her and opened the door to leave. “What are you doing here? I thought Molly said you were staying with Detective Gerrard.”
“She is.”
The declaration startled them both as Sawyer came up behind Mark. Maybe he sensed the tension between her and Sawyer because he ignored Sawyer’s claim and said in a low voice, “Just so you know, Emma, if you need a place to go, you can always stay with me and Molly.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” She had no intention of taking Mark up on his offer, but it was kind of him. He told her goodbye and headed down the hall as Sawyer stepped inside and closed the door. Emma’s traitorous heart did a little flip. What was he doing there? Did he change his mind about Sam and come to get his dog back?
She wasn’t ready to see him. Everything was still too raw. Sawyer wasn’t the only one who’d lost trust today.
* * *
Why was Molly’s boyfriend here? Sawyer might have stopped the guy and asked him as much, but he didn’t seem any more inclined for chit-chat than Sawyer was.
He’d come straight here after dropping his brother off at the airport. He couldn’t stop thinking of Emma and their fight. He’d handled things badly. At Hunter’s advice, he’d planned to give her time to cool off before coming to see her. By the displeased scowl on her face, he hadn’t waited long enough. Then again, the suitcase leaning against the couch told him he might have gotten there just in time. Where in the hell did she think she was going?
Fighting back the rise of alarm, he took a deep breath and calmly asked, “Going somewhere?” His tone belayed none of the fear gripping his chest or the anger rising inside him. Was she really going to leave? His brow arched as his gaze flickered from her luggage back to Emma. “What are you going to do? Run again?” he asked when she didn’t answer him.
“If you’re worried about Sam, I was going to drop him off—”
“Goddammit, Emma.” He grabbed her arm to halt her retreat. Sam sensed Sawyer’s anger and gave him a low growl, warning him to get his hand off her.
“Back off, Sam!” Sawyer snapped, having no patience to deal with his traitorous partner right now. The growling stopped but the intensity in the Shepherd’s eyes put Sawyer on notice. He wasn’t sure what Emma had done to garner such loyalty from his dog, but Sawyer had no doubt Sam would protect her—even from him if Sam decided he was a threat.
“This isn’t about Sam. This is about you and me, and you know it.”
Surprise registered in her eyes and she pulled her arm from his grasp, then headed across the living room. “There is no you and me, Sawyer. You made that abundantly clear.”
She disappeared into her bedroom and left him standing there, feeling like he’d just been kicked in the balls. Was she serious? Did she honestly think he was just going to let her go without a fight? If yes, then Emma didn’t know him very well. Would she give up on them? Just like that? Of course she would. Emma told him more than once that she didn’t do relationships. Yeah, well, he didn’t think he did either, yet here he was.
Sawyer entered her bedroom. When Sam tried to follow, he told him to “stay” and slammed the door in the dog’s face. Emma flinched at the sharp bang, but otherwise refused to acknowledge him. He watched her a moment as he struggled to get a grip on his emotions. He was mad as hell that she’d lied to him and at the same time scared to death of losing her. What they had between them was new and fragile, but it was powerful.
She stood with her back to him as she stared out her window. He didn’t know how to reach her when she was like this. He’d hurt her with the things he’d said, not giving her a chance to explain. And although spoken in haste, much of what he’d said was true.
Taking a deep breath, he grasped the olive branch of reason. “I was mad, Emma. Surely you can understand why. Hell, I still am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You can’t run from this.”
Feeling the urgency to protect her, he walked up and turned her towards him. “He’s going to find you, Emma. You have to know that.” It might have been an underhanded play, but Sawyer wasn’t above using fear to make her see reason.
“He won’t if you catch him,” she countered with a defiant lift of her chin.
The challenge stung as she tossed a bit of the blame his way. He refrained from reminding her that if she’d been upfront with him from the beginning, he probably would have.
“I can’t do it without you, Emma.” She was the key to catching The Good Samaritan. “Aren’t you tired of being afraid? Don’t you want this to stop?”
She dropped her guard and sighed heavily. “Of course I do.”
“Then help me, Emma,” he pleaded. “Help me catch this guy.”
If she wanted him, wanted this, she was going to make the last move. Her floral scent enveloped him, his pulse pounding in response to her nearness. For the briefest moment, Sawyer could almost sympathize with the man who’d let his feelings for this woman become a deadly obsession. She made him feel things he’d never felt before and cross lines he’d never thought he’d step over. It was Emma. Something about her was all consuming, and he was as addicted as the bastard trying to kill her. He stood motionless, breathing in her scent as he fought for control. It took all his willpower to remain still, patiently waiting for her to reach out to him and take what he was offering.
His pulse drummed in his ears, reverberating in other parts of his body. The tension coiling inside him was strung ripcord tight. And then she shifted. The movement was nearly imperceptible, but then her arms slipped around him and she stepped into his embrace. Relief flooded through him as he held her tightly and rested his chin on top of her head.
His slow exhale became a low, throaty groan of flagging restraint. He still had questions, and there was a lot he didn’t understand, like why she hadn’t told him about Matthew. But as Hunter had so helpfully pointed out on the way to the airport, she might have had a good reason for keeping her past a secret, and if he kept “acting like an asshole” he’d never discover what that reason was.
In their hours apart, anger had given way to fear and he’d spent every second worried something would happen to her. Watching Emma walk out that door had forced him to face what he hadn’t been willing to admit. He was in love with her. And no, she wasn’t perfect, but then neither was he. Seems they both had their secrets, another point Hunter had been quick to make, to which Sawyer had responded that at least his secrets didn’t put her life in danger.
“I’m sorry,” her voice cracked with emotion. “I should have told you—”
“Shh…” he whispered into the soft down of her hair, pressing his lips against the top of her head. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll figure it out together.”
“You don’t understand,” she pulled back to stare at him with frightened doe eyes, luminous with unshed tears. “Sawyer, he’s coming after you. The note, it wasn’t just a message for me. It was a warning for you.”
He framed her face with his hands and tipped it up to meet his stare. “Emma, I’m not worried about him targeting me. I welcome him to try. What scares the hell out of me is the thought of him coming after you or taking his failure out on some other woman. I need to get this bastard off the streets before he hurts someone else. And in order to do that, I need you to tell me everything that happened with Matthew.”
“If you read the police reports, then you already know.”
“I know what the report says. But I want to hear it from you, in your own words. What happened that night?”
Chapter 28
Emma sat across the table from Sawyer in her dining room. She wasn’t sure she could do this. The last time she’d talked about Matthew’s murder she’d been sitting in a police station with her lawyer. Just the
thought of reliving that nightmare made her stomach churn. Nausea rose as the memories assaulted her. After all these years, they were never far from the surface.
“I need a drink,” she said, then headed for the kitchen.
She understood why Sawyer wanted her to tell him what happened. He was probably hoping it would jog a memory or maybe she’d recall some small detail she’d forgotten to tell the police. But did he realize how traumatic this was for her? She’d been an eighteen-year-old girl who’d found her boyfriend murdered inside his truck in her parents’ driveway. And in the following days Matthew’s parents and the cops had turned on her, accusing her of killing him and making up the story of a stalker to divert suspicion.
Emma pulled a bottle of wine from the rack and began unwrapping the red foil when Sam’s cold nose nudged her leg. She knelt beside him, scratching the sides of his furry neck. “You really are an amazing dog, you know that?” Rising, she paused to kiss the top of his head.
“So that’s your secret,” Sawyer said softly as he entered the kitchen.
Just the sound of his voice lit up her nerve endings with feminine awareness, making her acutely conscious of the man behind her. He’d been so angry with her this morning. Why the change of heart? Was he cozying up to her because he needed her? He’d admitted as much. Or was there something more poignant happening between them?
“Every male you kiss instantly falls in love with you, is that it?”
Emma froze, his words rolling over her like a caress. Was Sawyer implying that he…? No, she had to be mistaken. Slowly, Emma turned to face him, her heart hammering inside her chest. His smile sent a rush of tingling heat sweeping through her. “I don’t know,” she said, suddenly a little breathless. “Do they?”
He moved forward, closing the distance between them, his steps slow and purposeful, his limp almost imperceptible. Then again, it was hard to notice something so insignificant when she had over six feet and two hundred pounds of gorgeous, rock-hard male coming toward her. Emma’s pulse quickened as his sapphire gaze took a slow, deliberate head-to-toe sweep before fixing on her mouth.
“I’m pretty sure they do.”
She felt the husky rumble of his voice all the way to her core. At his confession, her lips parted with a surprised gasp that lodged in her throat. Before she could respond, Sawyer’s mouth came down on hers hard and fast. Her hands flew up to his chest, steadying herself as his tongue boldly pushed past her lips. He pulled her into his arms, backing her up against the counter. When her bottom bumped the island, he lifted her onto the countertop and pressed between her legs. They obediently parted to let him in, her soft curves yielding to his hard body. He fit against her perfectly, his jean-clad arousal grinding against her sensitive flesh, sending explosive darts of pleasure arrowing into her. He inhaled her soft moan and exhaled a throaty groan in response.
Her thoughts couldn’t keep up with the sensations flooding through her. She had emotional whiplash. One minute she was preparing to share the most painful part of her life with this man and the next she was in his arms, at his mercy and under his control—and there was no question he was in control.
His hand fisted into her hair and he tugged her head to the side, breaking contact with her mouth to expose the long column of her neck. His lips quickly found her sensitive pulse and a shiver rolled through her.
“I thought you wanted to talk,” she panted. If he didn’t stop kissing her, she wouldn’t be able to string two intelligible words together. Not that she was complaining. She’d much rather be doing this than talking about what happened eight years ago.
“I do,” he whispered, nipping the lobe of her ear and sending a current of white-hot pleasure coursing through her veins. “Later.” He lifted his head to meet her eyes, the intensity of his stare searing all the way to her soul. “You and I, we’re more than this case, Emma. And I’m going to prove it to you. I don’t want you ever doubting this—doubting us. You scared the hell out of me today watching you walk out that door and thinking I lost you. You’re done running, Emma.”
She didn’t want to cry but couldn’t hold back the well of tears building inside her. His thumb swept over her cheek, brushing away the moisture. More than anything she wanted the freedom of knowing that Sawyer knew the truth and, despite it all, still cared for her, maybe even loved her.
For the first time since Matthew died, she felt like she could truly give herself to someone. There would be no secrets, no haunting past between them.
“I want that too,” she confessed, needing this moment with Sawyer before revisiting her past. At least she wouldn’t be facing the nightmare alone. “I need you,” she whispered, her hands slipping around his neck, legs circling his narrow hips.
He lifted her off the countertop and carried her to the bedroom. The moment Emma’s feet hit the carpet he was undressing her, a hurried, uncoordinated stripping. Her nipples puckered at the kiss of cool air and he dipped his head to sample the sensitive peak. He sucked and teased one, then the other. It left her panting, and wanting that talented tongue to travel lower. Tension was building inside her, making her needy and restless for release.
He chuckled at her insistent nudges, encouraging him lower. He playfully nipped her breast. She gasped at what should be pain but morphed into pleasure.
“You want me on my knees, Emma? Is that it?”
A thousand times, yes. But the wicked glint in his eyes confirmed he already knew that. His smile was pure sin. A shiver of anticipation quaked through her as he knelt to the floor. Having a strong, dominant man like Sawyer Gerrard kneeling before her was a heady experience.
She felt powerful and in control, though it was only an illusion because it didn’t matter what position Sawyer was in, control was the one thing he would never relinquish. He looked up at her and the determined glint in his dark blue eyes made her knees go weak, her insides melting. One touch of his tongue to her slick folds and she would be lost.
He improved the view by pulling off his shirt before hooking his fingers in the waistband of her yoga pants and taking them down with her panties. Once they reached her ankles, he gently lifted one leg and slipped it over his shoulder, her heel resting against the middle of his muscular back. Emma’s eyes went wide, her hand shooting out to brace against the wall when he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh.
He watched her from where he knelt between her legs. Her pulse hammered inside her chest, her nerve endings lit up like a matchstick struck by the fuse of his kiss—a kiss he was bringing achingly closer to where she wanted him most. There was no cover of night for her to hide behind this time. She was bare and open to him. The irony wasn’t lost on her that Sawyer was the one on his knees, yet she was at his mercy.
She didn’t have long to contemplate her vulnerability. The moment Sawyer’s mouth touched her sensitive folds, all thoughts of modesty vanished. His hands slipped behind her, gripping her bottom and pulling her closer as a hungry growl rumbled in his chest. She gasped, the muscles of her empty core clenching with need. Her hand slipped to the back of his head, fingers curling into his hair as a mewled whimper left her throat.
Emma’s breaths grew short and rapid. This was different than the first time she’d been with him. Sawyer had been more tentative—more restrained. Now, hunger that bordered on aggression reverberated in his touch. Like he’d reached the limit of his control and it had finally snapped.
His tongue entered her, deep and rhythmic, a foreshadowing of what was to come. The first tremors of her release made her walls quake. He must have felt it too, because the chuckle that rumbled in his chest was pure male satisfaction. Her knees buckled, unable to hold her weight in the wake of the euphoric storm boring down on her. Sawyer’s grip on her bottom tightened and he held her with ease as he took her over the edge with a strong, sucking pull against the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex.
“Sawyer…” Emma’s desperate plea for mercy was her final call before she shattered. He anchored her as s
he rode out her release. The rush of endorphins flooding her system left her weak and sated; her pulse racing. Sawyer wasted no time lifting her up and laying her on the bed.
She watched him through heavy-lidded eyes. No longer mindful of her nakedness, Emma stretched into a lazy sprawl, enjoying the way Sawyer’s gaze slowly devoured her. The hunger and adoration she saw reflected in his eyes took her breath away.
His hands fell to the waistband of his jeans and he unfastened the button. Her heart galloped with anticipation as he pushed his jeans past his hips. “Last chance to change your mind,” he warned, thumbs slipping into the waistband of his boxer-briefs that were doing a fantastically poor job of containing his erection.
Giving him a smile that held more confidence than she felt, she slowly shook her head. “Come here.” She didn’t have to ask twice. Sawyer shed his clothes and joined her on the bed, crawling over her with more grace than a man his size should have. He settled between her legs and his mouth took quick possession of hers. The erotic taste of her passion on his lips ratcheted her pulse, driving her wild. Sawyer fed that need to a frenzy, his tongue delving into her mouth, his hand slipping between them, parting her slick sensitive folds. His finger entered her, the fullness a welcome sensation that made her muscles involuntarily contract.
He groaned against her mouth. “You’re so tight. Emma, try to relax.”
Try to relax? Every place he touched set off little explosions of pleasure. His mouth dipped to her neck and goose bumps prickled her flesh as his breath teased her kiss-dampened skin. The pressure inside her increased when he added another finger, the stretch a mixture of pain and pleasure.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he crooned against her ear. “Just like that.”
His deep husky voice did all sorts of delicious things to her body and the need coiling inside her wound tighter. His fingers skillfully teased and stroked as the pressure continued to build. She was close to coming again, but this time she wanted him inside her. Emma’s hand slipped down his stomach, over those tightly packed abs. The muscular divot near his hips guided her exploration lower.
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