by Misty Evans
She gave him her practiced smile, hoping to create some distance between them for a moment. Her body might be ready to throw out its invitation, but her heart and mind were still catching up.
His eyes sized her up and he sauntered into the room. “That pie smells delicious. I haven’t eaten this well in months. Maybe longer.”
He stopped a foot from her, his intense gaze in the flickering shadows of the candlelight setting butterflies loose in her stomach. She took a step back and bumped into the counter. “It’s nice to cook for someone besides myself.”
Placing his hands on the counter on either side of her, he leaned in, not touching her, but totally invading her space. “I have good news.”
She swallowed the tightness in her throat and wondered if he could hear her heart, it was thumping so loudly. “What?”
“In a little town southeast of Escondido, the police have surrounded a house where Chris Goodsman is hiding. Cooper said an FBI SWAT unit is in transit and he and a couple guys on the taskforce are headed there as well. A neighbor called it in, saying they saw Goodsman and Brown entering and leaving the house several times last night.”
Her heart, already going crazy, stuttered in surprised relief. “So that sighting yesterday forty miles south of here was probably them.”
The side of his mouth quirked. “Probably.”
“And most likely my visitor yesterday was one of Chris’s other followers, not Linda?”
“Brown no doubt helped my arsonist set the fires, but sent someone else to the house to frighten you while she’s helping Goodsman get away. She was messing with your head, Doc.”
Freedom. Up to this moment, Emma hadn’t realized just how imprisoned her subconscious had felt by the threats Chris and Linda had made. Her body slumped slightly, her breath came out in a whoosh. “When is the SWAT team busting in?”
“Within the hour. Cooper will call as soon as Goodsman and his number one fan are in custody. Coop and Dupé will lean on them, and hopefully, this will wrap up my case with the arsonist as well.”
“How so?”
“Brown will give up the goods on the arsonist. I’m almost positive Brown started the fire, and our fire starter snuck her out of the park.”
He looked so happy, his eyes mirroring her relief. Emma’s arms moved of their own accord, snaking up to wrap themselves around his neck. “Funny how our lives intersected because of the two of them.”
“Maybe it’s destiny,” he teased.
Her destiny is death. The words Chris Goodsman had written in his jail cell at Aleta Hills.
She started to say something about all the trouble Chris and Linda had gone to in order to freak her out, but she didn’t want to spoil the moment. Who knew what Chris had been thinking when he’d left that message? From his past antics, Emma guessed it was nothing more than an insurance policy for him in case he got caught. He could once again make a jury, judge, and his fans believe he’d had a break with reality. That he had believed he was Tom Monahan when he’d left that prison, so when Brown, aka Mary, had shown up and rescued him, he’d gone with her willingly. She was his mother in that alternate reality, after all.
“Mitch,” Emma said. “I know this is rather forward of me, but…”
The words were right there on her tongue, but if Goodsman and Brown ended up in custody yet tonight, and they gave up whatever evidence Mitch needed to solve his case, then he’d be leaving her.
On one hand, it should be all the incentive she needed to drag him upstairs and rip his clothes off. On the other…
His hands went to her hips and he pressed her back into the counter. His gaze searched her face. “What is it, Emma?”
Was he teasing her? Surely he saw the look on her face, the desire. “I, um… I want to ask you a question, but I’ve never approached a man like this.”
A sexy grin played across his lips. “With a lead-in like that, I can hardly wait to hear the question.”
He was so cocky, so confident. Good thing he had her backed up to the counter. Her knees were shaking as much as her voice. The therapist in her rose to the occasion, giving her some needed poise. “It’s much easier to talk to you when you’re being derisive and snarky.”
He rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing. “You know how to handle that, don’t you? That’s your comfort zone.”
Her comfort zone was definitely being violated at the moment along with her personal space. Her breath was coming too fast, as if she’d run a mile. “I’m on the receiving end of snarky and derisive a lot in my line of work. Anger and hate as well.”
One of his hands came up and rubbed the back of her neck. Goose flesh rose at his touch and shimmered down her spine. “This isn’t work, Emma. Relax. You can ask me anything.”
Deep breath. Relax. “Okay.” She swallowed, her eyelids half closing at the exquisite feel of his fingers massaging the tight muscles in her neck. “It’s Christmas Eve, and although I’d like to pretend that means nothing to me, there’s a part of me that’s eager to create a new memory. One that’s happy and, well, satisfying, so I’d like to invite you to…”
At her pause, he tugged at the end of her ponytail. “Yes?”
She bit her bottom lip, forced herself to look him in the eye. “Since you no longer have to worry about guarding me from Chris, your job here is over, right?”
His fingers went higher, kneading the base of her skull and loosening her ponytail. “Potentially. Once I get word from Cooper that Goodsman and Brown are in custody. Why?”
Again, there was a teasing note in his voice. He knew exactly what she wanted to ask him, knew how he was affecting her.
God, it was hard to focus with his fingers massaging the back of her head as his body—a very hard, muscular body—pressed into hers. She was pretty sure one part of that hard body meant he was thinking the same thing she was, and at this rate, she wasn’t going to make it upstairs to her bedroom before she ripped his clothes off. “You’re not on the clock, technically.”
He chuckled. “As in, I can hit on you and not get into trouble with my bosses?”
“Is that what you’re doing? Hitting on me?”
He gently tugged on her hair, forcing her to turn her head sideways and bare her neck to him. His lips moved over her skin, raising a new wave of goose bumps. “Isn’t it obvious?”
The fluttering in her belly settled as the female in her exploded. She raked her fingers through his hair, drawing him in even closer. “Thank God. I thought I was going to embarrass myself by begging.”
“Oh, that sounds fun.” His teeth nibbled at her earlobe. “Maybe I should make you beg.”
“You’re horrible,” she said, but it made her laugh.
He kneed her thighs apart and she wrapped her legs around his waist, his erection acutely and strategically placed at the junction of her thighs. He lifted her and set her on the counter. “You love it.”
“I do.” She found his lips and kissed him, slowly, purposefully, hoping he understood just how much she wanted him. “You’re exactly what I need tonight.”
Emma’s kiss was deep and wild—a surprise. The kiss on the floor of her office had given him a glimpse of this, but it had been restrained. Bashful, almost.
Not any longer. He kissed her back, rough and equally as wild and she moaned.
He loved it. Loved the way she made him feel.
Strong, powerful, free.
Free of the past. Free of the judgments and the grief and the anger.
I could get lost in her.
Her fingers worked at his shirt while his fingers unbuttoned her jeans. His shirt fell to the floor as Emma scored his chest with her nails. The satin fabric of her panties was wet.
Exactly what he wanted.
He wanted her wet and ready for him, because there was no going back now. No more dancing around this attraction. This bond they had with each other.
Hard and fast…he’d fallen for her much too hard, so goddamn fast, but there was n
o going back. He wanted—no, needed—to taste her, feel her, drive himself into her.
Drive away the pain.
He’d been lost for so long. Lost and afraid, imagining the rest of his life without Mac. A steady, aggravating burn under his skin.
In Emma’s arms, he felt at home. Safe, grounded.
Happy.
The future no longer stared him in the face like an ugly, angry beast. Now all he saw was potential. Possibilities. An ease to his agony. He wanted to be a better man. A better man because of her.
Emma tugged on his hair, nipped at his collarbone. A little hellcat, urging him on. He slipped a finger past the satin underwear, sliding into her slick folds.
Her body arched and she whimpered, her hand smacking into the pots she had washed and stacked on the counter to dry. They clanged to the floor, raising a commotion with the Labs, but Mitch laughed and shooed the dogs away.
Emma’s pretty eyes flashed in the shadows with lust and need as they looked at him through thick lashes. “I want to be…”—her breath came in gasps that matched the stroke of his fingers as he built a new rhythm—“more than friends.”
She tried for a grin, but bit her bottom lip instead as he inserted a second finger. “Oh, Doc, I promise we’re going to be much more than friends when I get done with you.”
Those lashes of hers dipped down, her hands on his shoulders holding on tight. “God, I hope so.”
She licked her lips and he caught the bottom one between his teeth, kissing her as she moved against him, her core tightening around his fingers.
Jesus, he needed to slow down, take her the proper way and make it good for her. Show her what this meant to him, his appreciation for the comfort she’d given him. He should haul her upstairs to her big, old bed, strip her slowly, and take his time memorizing her curves, the feel of her skin, the taste of her on his lips.
His cock had other ideas, especially when she unzipped his fly and slipped her hand inside.
Her fingers were cool and gentle, teasing him into the air. Once he was free of his pants, she gripped him firmly and gave a tug.
And goddamn it. He was about to come just from that.
Distract her before you embarrass yourself.
He ripped off her shirt with his free hand, saw the sexy lace beneath. Peach, a shade or two darker than her skin. Nipples strained against the fabric, taunting, begging for him to take them into his mouth, like the previous day, before they’d been interrupted.
Grabbing her wrist and removing her hand from his too-hard dick, he bent down and suckled a nipple through the fabric.
She arched again, legs spreading wider. The hand that was still free grasped at his back, her nails digging into his shoulder. Shoving her wrist up to the cupboard overhead, he took his time laving her nipple through the lace, nipping at it, then kissing away the pain.
Her breath came in gasps, her pelvis slapping into his palm where his fingers worked at her core. Moaning his name, she pulled him closer, even as he held her captive, using his teeth to tug the peach material, now wet from his mouth, away from her breast.
Baring all that beautiful skin.
So damned perfect. The breast was heavy and round, her areole the same peach color as her bra. He licked her from the beautiful underside of her heavy breast, up and over the hard tip, trailing his tongue to the base of her throat where her pulse pounded.
Her release came fast and with enough force that she cried out again, this time with his name on her lips as her spine bowed backward. He milked her orgasm with his fingers, capturing her mouth with his and looking into her lust-fogged eyes as she came apart in his arms. Releasing her wrist, he bound her to him as she peaked, her hips still moving in a frantic rhythm that was erotic as hell to watch.
When she finally stilled, Mitch swung her into his arms and carried her upstairs. She nestled her face into his neck, wrapping her arms around him.
His erection was still so hard, the stairs were a bitch to climb, but he managed to get halfway up before the Labs ran by him, stopping at the top and sitting, tongues out as they panted, tails wagging as if they thought this was a game.
Emma raised her head slightly and ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “That was amazing.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he told her, need driving him. “I’m going to rip off the rest of your clothes and fuck you blind, Doc. Hope you’re up for it.”
Her hand forced his face to turn toward her. She kissed him, her tongue forcing itself into his mouth as her fingers went up the back of his skull and tugged on his hair. “Bring it, on, Agent,” she said against his lips. “I’m more than ready for you.”
The huskiness of her voice and the way her eyes were steady on his nearly dropped him. His tiny brain—not so tiny at the moment—told him to take her right there on the stairs. “After I fuck you properly in your bed, I’m going to haul you into your office and make you put on those reading glasses. Then I’m going to fuck you on your desk.”
“Do you have handcuffs, because I’m thinking of a few things I’d like to do to you as well.”
She giggled and her boldness made him chuckle. She always had a comeback. Nothing he said ever shocked her. “I might be able to scrounge up some zip ties from the cab of my truck.”
Her smile was mischievous. “Excellent.”
His lascivious desire renewed, he had no trouble climbing the last few stairs and throwing Emma on her bed. She rolled to her side and lit a candle on the nightstand. He closed the door on the dogs and stood for a moment, lost in her beauty as she leaned back on her elbows and smiled over at him.
Her hair was undone and messy, her shirt gone, her jeans open at the waist, and one breast on full display. The nipple was still puckered tight from his earlier ministrations.
“Take off your bra,” he told her.
“Take off your pants,” she countered.
He stalked to the bed, let the pants fall. Lifting one brow, he wiggled his fingers at her to ante up.
Staring at his very out-there erection, she licked her lips and unhooked her bra, dangling it in front of him before dropping it to the floor.
He was naked save for his socks. She still had her pants on. “Lose the jeans. And the panties,” he added.
“Yes, sir.”
She raised her hips to shimmy out of the pants and he grabbed the cuffs, dragging the tight material off her and knocking her off balance. She laughed, nearly tumbling off the bed. The satin panties went next and then she was gloriously naked for him.
Once more on her elbows, she bent her knees and splayed her legs wide, taunting him. “I need you inside me,” she said in that husky voice. “Now.”
“This is some therapy technique you have, Doc.”
“Why, yes, it is. Thanks for noticing. I promise, you’re going to enjoy it.” Her grin was wicked and sexy and sent his cock bobbing as she came up off her elbows to reach for him. “I’m good at what I do.”
Before he could stop her, she leaned forward, her lips touching the end of his cock. She kissed him there, making his legs go weak. “Jesus,” he hissed under his breath.
She slid to the edge of the bed and off of it, going to her knees in front of him. Her lips parted and she guided him into her mouth, deeper, deeper, deeper, until his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.
Her mouth stroked him. Her tongue teased. Her teeth scraped against his sensitive flesh. Grabbing her by the arms, he forced himself to draw back. “Another few seconds of that,” he huffed, “and I’m not going to make it.”
She twisted her lips into a pout. “That’s the idea, Mitch. To make you lose control.”
Lifting her from the floor, he set her on the bed, pushing her back. Her mound glistened in the candlelight and he wanted to go down on her, taste her on his tongue, but his cock wasn’t going to last for any other distractions. Running his hands under her knees, he raised them up and climbed between them, kissing the soft skin of her thighs, the spot above
her pubic bone, her ribs. She arched into his kisses, wrapping her legs around his waist as he settled between her thighs.
She was wet and slick and he drove himself home, the sensation of flying overtaking him as she met him with a pelvic thrust that made him nearly come from the ferocity.
His mind went blank, his body taking over, grinding itself into her. Emma’s hips made tiny circles in between the thrusts, her inner walls pulling him in tight. Their bodies slapped together, over and over, the primal sound echoing in the room.
The need, the desperation echoed with it as Emma raked her hands across his shoulders to his back. Her eyes locked on his, her lips swollen from his kisses parted, ready for more. He didn’t know how it was possible, but she pulled him in closer, as if she couldn’t get enough of him.
Another impossibility, but his cock seemed to grow, just from that look, that need of hers to have more of him. He wanted to give it to her, give her everything she wanted.
Her eyelashes fluttered, about to close as her back lifted her higher. So close. She was so close and he was going to follow her right over that perfect fucking edge of oblivion.
“Open your eyes.” He wanted to see her when she came. Look into her soul. “Don’t close me off.”
“Never,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “I’m all yours.”
The words nearly stalled him, his body locking up as his brain kicked in. But then Emma grasped his hips with her hands, her gaze locked on his. “I need this,” she added. “Your brand of therapy.”
Catching her bottom lip in his teeth again, he bit her, released, kissed the swollen skin. Her tongue licked into his mouth and he increased their rhythm.
The bed springs groaned, the headboard smacking into the wall. Ah, yes. He needed this too. Fucking her hard and deep and loving how she took it all and gave it back to him.
“Come for me,” he rasped against her mouth, feeling her milking him as he bore down on her. “I want to make you scream.”
Scream she did. She clung to him, eyelashes at half-mast as she convulsed and writhed under him. He continued to move with her, letting her ride out the orgasm as she took him over the sweet edge and into his.