She wrapped her hand around his erection and Sawyer tensed. He hissed a sharp intake of breath as she squeezed, slowly drawing her fist down his length, her grip slickened by the evidence of his failing control. She wasn’t the only one close to coming. He pulsed in her hand, a shudder rolling through his hard, muscular body as he growled a command with barely controlled restraint, “Condom….”
Was he asking her or was he telling her? Either way, she didn’t have one. “It’s all right. I’m on the pill.”
He met her gaze, his expression surprised. Before he could ask and risk the moment being ruined by unnecessary conversation, Emma explained, “There’s more than one reason for a woman to be on the pill.”
His mouth was back on hers, effectively ending the discussion, his kiss less controlled than it had been. When he removed his fingers, she let out a whimpered protest that was quickly cut off by a surprised gasp when Sawyer positioned himself against her and slipped between her silky folds, gently nudging past her entrance. When he rocked his hips, her body instinctively tensed, resisting the invasion.
“It’s all right,” he whispered against her ear, and wow, that husky voice did all sorts of melty things to her insides. He slipped his hand between them, his thumb quickly finding the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, and he began to tease her, stroking the sensitive spot until the ache smoldering in her core became a full-blown inferno. Her body turned liquid beneath Sawyer’s skillful touch. She squirmed against him restlessly, needing him deeper so he could quench the fire burning inside her.
“Please,” she begged against his mouth as he pulled back and then pushed in farther, each stroke bringing him closer to that desperate ache.
But then he stopped. “This is as far as I can go without hurting you, Emma.” His concern for her seemed at odds with the war he waged for his control, and at that moment, she fell in love with him just a little bit more.
“It’s okay, Sawyer. I want you. Please.”
He hesitated a moment, dark eyes studying hers. She tensed, preparing for the sharp bite of pain, but instead of breaking through her barrier, he kissed her. His lips were gentle and coaxing, a patient and wooing exploration of her mouth. His tongue toyed with hers—invading, tasting, then retreating. Emma slipped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.
His oral foreplay disarmed and distracted her, which may have been his intention all along because one moment he was kissing her like her life depended on it, and the next he was burying himself deep inside her. The pain was sharper than she’d expected. Emma cried out and Sawyer swallowed her cry, deepening his kiss until all that was left was her soft moan of pleasure.
Chapter 29
Regret that he’d hurt her was the only thing that kept him from coming. She felt incredible. So hot, so tight, so…perfect. Like she was made just for him. Tension knotted low in his spine. He was close to losing it. The pressure building in the base of his cock was physically painful.
She tensed beneath him, sharp little nails digging into his back. Yeah, that probably shouldn’t turn him on as much as it did, but his tastes had always bordered a little on the wild side. Emma was his first—virgin that is. She was also the first woman he’d ever been with and not used a condom, so this was a big day of firsts for the both of them.
“Are you all right?” he asked between kisses.
Her eyes were tightly closed as she held stone still. He wanted to make this good for her. Everyone remembered their first time, and he wanted to make Emma’s unforgettable.
“Sweetheart, breathe,” he coached softly, kissing the sensitive spot below her ear. He captured her breast and teased her nipple with his thumb, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers.
She exhaled a soft moan and started to relax, her tight sheath loosening its grip on his cock, just enough to encourage him to move. She arched into his touch. Her breasts were beautiful—a little more than a handful with mouthwatering raspberry nipples. He dipped his head to take a taste, the movement causing him to slowly withdraw. Emma gasped, but it wasn’t in pain. Her soft moan of pleasure was like sex to his ears shooting straight into his cock. It jerked in response. Unless he wanted to two-pump-chump Emma’s first time, he’d better get a handle on this quick.
“That’s good,” she moaned when he slid back home and set a slow, easy pace, giving her a chance to get used to his size. It didn’t take long before she was meeting his thrusts and encouraging him to pick up the pace.
“Yesss. Oh, right there.”
He’d always appreciated a vocal bed-partner, and Emma’s soft, husky plea was about to push him over the edge. She was close to coming again. He knew by the early tremors of her impending release. Without a condom he could feel everything, and it was pure paradise inside of her.
Slipping his hand between them, he trapped her clit between his thumb and cock as he bit down on her nipple just hard enough to ride that fine line of pain and pleasure. Emma shattered, his name a broken cry on her lips as her little glove began to spasm, ripping his release from him, euphoria blasting through him in powerful, jetting waves.
As the last tremors left him, Sawyer was vaguely aware of Emma’s stillness beneath him. He opened his eyes to find her watching him. “You okay?”
“Never better.”
His heart swelled with masculine pride at her lust-drunken grin.
“You know, Molly was right. You do fuck like a rock star.”
He let out a laugh at the unexpected compliment. “Sweetheart, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
* * *
Emma lie spent, sweaty, and sated in Sawyer’s arms. For the first time, she knew what total contentment felt like. Her body ached in all the right places. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sure, steady beat of his heart. Tucked into his side, his hand slowly traced lazy circles on her back.
At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, what happened between them had been profound and life changing for her. Sawyer had taken more than her virginity. He’d claimed a piece of her heart. Maybe she was being naïve, but it was more than she’d expected to lose. From this moment on, no matter what happened between them, Sawyer Gerrard would always possess a part of her.
Emma ruminated on this revelation as her eyes slipped closed. She didn’t know where Sawyer’s head was in all of this and didn’t want to risk ruining the moment to find out. She wanted to fall asleep and pretend life was perfect for just a little while longer. But sleep never came. Hovering in that twilight and drifting toward unconsciousness, Sawyer’s low husky voice broke the peaceful silence between them.
“Were you in love with him?”
Emma’s eyes shot open, bitch-slapped by reality. As the seconds passed, she could hear the quickening of Sawyer’s pulse as he waited for her to answer. At least she didn’t have to wonder where his mind was anymore. It was something she usually appreciated about him—his straightforward, no bullshit, to-the-point approach. Unfortunately, lying in bed, basking in her post orgasmic bliss wasn’t one of those times.
Matthew was the last person she wanted to think about right now, which begged the question… Why was Sawyer? Was his mind already back on the case or was there another reason? Either way, she couldn’t avoid answering him.
“I was.” Could he hear the cautious hesitation in her voice?
“Is that why you never dated?”
“Yes and no.”
A long pause of contemplative silence passed.
“Are you still in love with him?”
If he would have asked her that a month ago, her answer might have been different. She had loved Matthew once. Very much. It devastated her when he’d died. But whether it was love our guilt that kept her from moving on, she didn’t know.
This wasn’t the pillow talk she’d been hoping for. Taking a deep breath, she propped her chin on her forearm and looked into Sawyer’s eyes. He was handsome—distractingly so. But there was something in the way he watched her that wasn’t there bef
ore.
“Why are you asking me this?” Perhaps she was reading into his question, because Sawyer was the most confident, self-assured man she knew. But right now, he looked apprehensive, and maybe a little vulnerable.
“Because I need to know if I’m competing with a ghost.”
He held her eyes with his unwavering stare. Considering all her secrets were soon to be exposed, one more shouldn’t matter. Still, the need to hold onto this one kept her from telling Sawyer she loved him. She hadn’t said those words to anyone since Matthew…
“I’m not in love with Matthew anymore, but I’d be lying if I told you that his ghost doesn’t still haunt me. I have avoided relationships because I haven’t gotten over what happened to him, and I’m not sure that I ever will. I don’t know if it was losing him, or the way I lost him that’s made it so difficult for me to move on. Knowing his killer is still out there… I can’t get closure, you know?”
Sawyer nodded. “I do. More than you realize. I’m meeting with Chief Woods from the Grand Marais PD tomorrow to discuss Matthew’s case. I need you to tell me what happened that night, because I can’t go into that station with nothing but their version of the truth.”
His hand resumed its gentle back and forth motion, up and down her spine. Only now it seemed more a comforting gesture than a languid caress.
“I know. It’s just… I haven’t told anyone about that night except the police, and they turned on me.”
Sawyer’s brows drew tight as he studied her. “Do you think I would do that? Is that why you’ve been keeping this from me?”
“Maybe at first, but not now.” She was glad he’d made love to her before asking her to talk about that night.
“That’s good, because nothing you tell me is going to change the way I feel about you. I need you to trust me and that means no secrets—Evangeline Larson.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
His brow rose in question. “Why not? It’s your name.”
“No, it’s not. Eve died with Matthew. I’m not that girl anymore.”
His lips thoughtfully pressed together, fine lines bracketing his mouth. He looked so serious and every bit the tough as nails detective she knew him to be, but then he reached up and tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. The gesture caught her off guard and her heart stuttered. Pressure built behind her eyes when he said, “I like Eve. It’s a beautiful name.”
Swallowing back the tears clogging her throat, she told him, “You wouldn’t have liked her. I didn’t.”
* * *
He kissed her damp cheek before climbing out of bed. They were not going to do this here. Not in the bed he’d just finished making love to her in. Snagging his jeans off the floor, he quickly pulled them on. “Come on.” He held out his hand to her. “Let’s go get that drink.”
Her smile was forced but she nodded and took his hand. He gave it a little reassuring squeeze. It was time she faced her past, if for nothing more than her own healing. Maybe then she’d let him in, let herself feel something she was fighting like hell to deny. At the risk of sounding like a total pussy, what had happened between them had been too real to ignore.
He’d seen that spark of fear in her eyes at his confession that he was falling for her. It’d been a calculated risk he still wasn’t sure would pay off—gain her trust with the truth or scare the hell out of her. It could go either way. Only time would tell which one he’d succeeded in.
Chapter 30
“At first I thought it was a joke, a harmless high school prank.”
Sawyer had politely waited for her to consume her first glass of wine and begin working on her second before he pressed the subject. His expression displayed zero emotion. He was a pro at questioning witnesses and interviewing victims, of course he’d remain stoic. But truth be told, she could really use the comfort of Sawyer her lover over the cool detachment of Sawyer the detective.
Taking a deep breath, she forged on. “Matthew broke up with his girlfriend to start dating me and she was really upset. Not because she cared for him, but more, I think, it was losing the status of dating the quarterback of the football team. Shortly after we started dating, I began getting these text messages from a blocked number. I figured it was just his ex trying to intimidate me. So did Matt. We ignored the threats, figuring she’d get over it eventually when she saw it wasn’t going to work.”
“What kind of text messages?”
“At first it was messages warning me to break up with him or else. Then they became more threatening.” Her voice cracked at a particularly painful memory.
“Why didn’t you contact the police?”
“In the end, I wanted to, but Matt refused. He thought I was overreacting. I think he felt bad about breaking up with Kelly and didn’t want to get her in trouble. Besides, he didn’t take the threats seriously, and at first, neither did I. Kelly was mad but she was harmless. He said she was just doing it for attention and he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.”
“The police report stated witnesses saw you two fighting the night he died. What was that about?”
If Sawyer knew they’d been fighting, then he already knew the reason, so why was he asking? “It’s true, we fought that night. We were at a party and I had too much to drink. He was getting ready to take me home and I found a note on his windshield that scared me. I lost it and made a scene.”
Just thinking about that night brought a prickle of goose bumps up her arms. Her gut churned with regret. She’d replayed that night in her mind a million times, the things she’s said, the things she’d done. Had she taken action sooner, had she realized the danger was real, Matthew would still be alive. Emma ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to erase the chill along with the memories.
“Why did it scare you? What did the note say?”
Emma met and held Sawyer’s intense sapphire stare. “She belongs to me.”
Sawyer’s sharp curse interrupted her, and he dragged his hand through his hair, circling around to scrub the back of his neck.
“That was when I realized the threats weren’t coming from Kelly after all. I was afraid and angry at Matt for blowing it off. I wanted to go to the police right away that night, but we’d been drinking… We were both underage, so we agreed to wait until the next morning before reporting it.”
“You didn’t see anyone suspicious hanging around the party?”
She shook her head. “It was dark, and we were at a bonfire. A lot of people were there, and the cars were parked a ways away.”
“So anyone could have left that note without being seen?”
“Pretty much.”
“Then what happened?”
“We left and Matt took me home. It was late. My parents were already asleep. He came up to my room…”
The little muscle in Sawyer’s jaw ticked. “How long was he in there?”
Surely that wasn’t jealousy sparking in his eyes. “Not that long. Why?”
“Long enough for someone to climb into the back of his truck?”
“I guess. Like I said, I’d been drinking, so some of the details aren’t the clearest.” His expression remained unchanged, and maybe it was her own guilt rising, but she swore she could see disapproval staring back at her. “Don’t tell me you didn’t party when you were a kid.”
“Of course I did. I just have a hard time envisioning you doing it. You don’t seem like the person who would give up that kind of control.”
“I told you I wasn’t the same person I am now. Being stalked and having your boyfriend murdered changes a person. I was captain of the cheerleading team and one of the most popular girls in school.” Letting out a laugh that held no humor, she shook her head. “You know, you really learn who your friends are when you get arrested for murder. Turns out I didn’t have a single one.”
Sawyer reached across the table and took her hand—the one that wasn’t clutching her wineglass like a lifeline—and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, Emma. I kn
ow this isn’t easy.”
No, it wasn’t. And it was about to get a lot more difficult. This was where she wanted the story to end, but it was only the beginning. It wasn’t until she reached for the wine bottle that she realized how badly she was shaking. Sawyer’s gaze flickered to Emma’s hand and her unsteady attempt to refill her glass. He waited for her to pour the merlot and take a sip before pressing her to continue.
“What happened after Matthew left?”
“I fell asleep. Well, I passed out. I told him to call me when he got home so I knew he got there okay. Matt wasn’t drunk, but let’s face it, he probably shouldn’t have been driving. It wasn’t until I woke up the next morning that I realized he hadn’t called. I checked my cell and there were no messages. I tried to call him, but he didn’t answer. I started to worry but told myself he probably just forgot to call and was still sleeping.” Emma’s heart began to pound as the memories pulled her deeper into her nightmare. “I got up to use the bathroom and that’s when I noticed a glimpse of his blue truck out my bedroom window.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. It didn’t help. The images were coming too fast to stop them.
Why was Matt still here? Maybe he’d had more to drink than she’d thought and decided to crash on her couch. Emma quickly pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt before heading downstairs. Pain hammered in her temples to the beat of her pulse, and not for the first time she promised herself she was done with alcohol. It didn’t matter how much or how little she drank, she always went to bed with the spins and woke with a killer headache.
She passed her parents’ bedroom, their door still closed.
“Matt?” Her feet hit the landing and she headed for the living room. When she found it empty, a ripple of anxiety coursed through her. Where was he? Her pulse quickened, increasing the tempo of the spike driving into her brain. She went to the kitchen, calling his name. “Matt?”
The Good Samaritan Page 18