Seize (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 2: Erotic Romance

by Gina Watson

  “Augie, you’re hurting me.”

  He eased his hold. “Sorry.” His voice was strained. He was in too deep, he was out of control. The song ended, and he reluctantly let her go. They were married; what was she doing at this dance with another man?

  Walking back to his table, he heard her call his name, but he didn’t turn. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted? He should be glad she wasn’t forcing his hand and making ultimatums.

  He didn’t want to be married. Knew he wouldn’t be a good husband. What did that even entail? She’d be living in his home, in his bed. And then what? Kids? He couldn’t be a father. He’d be a crappy father, just like his dad.

  Passing his table, he kept walking out to his car. He got in and drove, no destination in mind. He just needed to clear his head. Racing through town he ran several lights, finally ending up at the station. He headed straight to his office and closed the door, ignoring the greetings from those on duty. He opened the folder on his desk and sat back and fingered through its contents. He’d been monitoring every move surrounding Nicolas Reynaud. Cause of death: cardiac arrest. At first he thought it peculiar, but then it all made sense. The Lombardi family covered up the true cause of death. A news report had aired, but had been laundered through a publicist and was vague. It had been pretty quiet. This worked out well for him and the Browns. It meant they could put Nicolas Renaud behind them and start living their lives, free of fear.

  Closing the folder, he leaned back and clasped his hands across his stomach. Shutting his eyes, he saw Mia, but he also saw something he didn’t like—Mia with someone else, not him. A faceless man. She was happy and content, in love. He grew nauseated. Tremors racked his body until he replaced the distorted image with his own. Then it was the two of them, taking on life and all it had to offer, together. Another image emerged, one of her swollen belly, large with his child, his seed planted and nurtured inside her, two parts making a whole. And he knew for a fact Mia wouldn’t let him be a bad father.

  He got dizzy when something shifted inside of him. God, he wanted that image to be true with a fierceness that shook him. What a fool he’d been to deny her his bed, his home. To deny himself all that she was, all that she wanted to share with him. All that she wanted to give.

  He’d been afraid of getting close to her, afraid their lives would be like his folks’, but she was nothing like his mother, and he nothing like his father.

  Jumping to his feet, he grabbed his keys and ran out the door. He ran more lights this time than he had on the way over. If he’d been in a squad car, he’d have turned on the lights. Thankfully he didn’t have far to go. He was going to scoop her up and bring her into his bed where she belonged. She was his wife, Mrs. Michaela Roy. He was aware of a wide smile growing across his face. He loved her yet like the fool he was, he’d never told her. Even when she told him and the telling had eased the churning inside him. Damned fool. He’d tell her tonight. He’d show her too. She was his, and he’d love her until she felt the fierceness of his love running through her veins.

  Turning on his street, he saw the silver Dodge Ram parked next to the curb in front of his house. Keith’s truck. It was empty. At the back gate he saw the glow from the widow of the garage apartment, and his blood simmered. No, it boiled.

  He started to walk toward the house, but he froze. If she could so easily give up on what they had, then he wanted her out of his life forever. He didn’t care where she went, but she couldn’t stay. Not when he cared so much and she cared so little.

  He took the stairs three at a time and crashed through the door. Keith sat in a recliner and Mia in his grandmother’s wooden rocker. They had the television on, and she cradled a bowl of popcorn in her lap, an Afghan around her shoulders. Large deep lavender eyes gazed into his soul.

  “Augie?” She stood, passing the popcorn to Keith, and started toward him.

  “Just fucking forget it.” He stormed out, slamming the door.

  “Augie!”

  “Leave me alone, Mia.” He heard her coming down the stairs.

  “Mia?”

  Augie turned at the sound of worry in Keith’s voice.

  “I’m sorry, Keith, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Mia said.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Keith was advancing on them in the yard.

  “Everything’s fine, just get lost,” Augie said.

  “Mia?”

  “I apologize. Augie’s got a problem, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving, I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

  Augie’s eyes narrowed. Keith approached Mia. Not wanting to watch a goodnight kiss, Augie went into his house.

  What the hell had he been thinking? As he stomped to his bedroom, he pulled at the knot in his tie. He took off his shirt and threw it across the bed. He knew she was standing in the doorway behind him, because the molecules in the room had shifted. He always knew when she was near. Turning to sit on the bed confirmed what he already knew. He started removing his shoes.

  She cleared her throat. “Augie, what was that?”

  What was that? “I don’t know, Mia. You tell me. I come home and you’ve let Keith into your apartment.” He walked up to her, noting that her hands were clenched at her sides. “Did you have big plans, high hopes? Did you enjoy the goodnight kiss? Ready to put your loss of virginity to use?”

  In slow motion, her hand came up to his face and made contact, leaving the skin stinging and hot.

  She squared her shoulders, lifting herself to her full height. “You don’t play fair. Be mad, angry even, but I never thought you would insult me. Have I ever given you reason to assume I’m going to be promiscuous?”

  She hadn’t. Far from it.

  “No, but what am I supposed to think? I get here and he’s up there.” He waved his arm wildly. “You two all cozy and alone.”

  “Is that a crime?”

  He knew he needed to answer her. “No.”

  “We’d just started a movie. And to me cozy implies touching, which we were not doing. And there was no goodnight kiss. But I don’t need to tell you things you already know. Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you.”

  He leaned against the dresser, scrubbing at his face. “You bear my name, you’re wearing my ring, for Christ sake, and we’re married.” He shrugged. “I thought that meant something to you, but I guess I was wrong.”

  She got in his face, her index finger pushing at his chest while her hand went to her hip. “Are you serious? We’re not married. With a marriage comes companionship, intimacy, and love. You couldn’t get me out of your house fast enough. No companionship there. Certainly no intimacy. You’ve completely ignored me and yet now you want to hold the vows we made against me? I cry foul. And what about you? You didn’t keep any vows. Maybe you haven’t slept around yet, but you sure as hell haven’t cared for me the way a man cares for his wife. The way I thought you—” She dropped her hand. “The way I wanted …” She stepped back. “Forget it. I’ll go back to Canada.” The other hand went to her hip. “And did you ever stop to think that the only person I know here is my sister and that we’ve never been super close? She’s been tied up with Clay; where does that leave me? Do you think I should just sit home for weeks on end hoping that you’ll invite me over?”

  She was beautiful when she was pissed. Her hair whipped around her cheeks and waved with her efforts, mimicking the flow in the skirt of her dress. Her eyes simmered like dark purple lava, and her chest rose and fell swiftly, and Augie imagined sliding her dress down, exposing her breasts to his gaze. Delicate bare feet stole his attention.

  “Where are your shoes?”

  “What?”

  “Your shoes; you’re barefoot.”

  Hands still on her waist, her mouth opened, but she was speechless. Good. A perfect opportunity for him.

  He lunged forward, capturing her lips with his, her taste as sweet as he remembered. Expertly his hands slid the zipper of the dress down and he let if fall to the fl
oor until she stood in nothing but a white lace thong.

  Gasping when she realized what he’d done, she bent to grab her dress and pull it up, but his hands intercepted her. “Do you honestly think I’m going to have sex with you?” she asked. “Have you even been listening to me?”

  “I have and you will.” His voice was raspy and low.

  “You’re such an arrogant bastard.”

  She turned from him, clutching her dress in one hand. He grabbed her free arm and pulled her to his chest, her back to his front. He swept her hair over her left shoulder, grazing his teeth down the exposed column of her neck. She trembled in his arms. He knew this woman, his wife, Mrs. Roy. It felt indulgent to touch her after what felt like an eternity. He wouldn’t waste another moment denying what his body and his heart had known all along—he needed her healing touch to make him whole.

  He nipped up to her ear, taking her lobe between his teeth. His free hand captured hers, causing her to release the dress. It fell to the floor, and he picked her up, moving to the bed. He released her, leaving a hand on her back so that she was bent over the bed. His hand snaked into her underwear, landing between her legs, and he fingered her soft folds. Using her moisture, he lathered her into a preclimactic state—that place where you would do anything to be freed. He stopped just short of giving her what she needed and wrenched her underwear in two with his hands. He pushed his pants and his boxers off.

  He lifted her and threw her down on to the bed, turning her onto her back. His hands at the backs of her thighs, he pushed her legs to her chest, opening her to him. Opening her to his eyes and his hands and his intentions. Opening her to his determination to bring her pleasure.

  She fought him, pushing against his shoulders and twisting her hips in an attempt to wiggle free.

  He held her wrists and hovered over her face, his nose to hers. “You’re not going anywhere, so you can quit struggling.”

  She squirmed some more, and her right leg straightened out. He felt the momentum and narrowly missed having her knee collide with his erect cock.

  “That’s not very nice, sweet Mia. After all this time, I thought you’d be happy to feel my stiff cock inside of you; hard from just the sight of you. After all, you told me enough times how much you wanted me to make love to you. Begged me to take you.” Still holding her wrists tight, he bent over and kissed her brows, her nose, her lips. “Begged me to press deep inside you and rock you and fill you.”

  He bit her lower lip and tugged. Then he kissed her long and deep, her eager mouth telling him without words how much she wanted him.

  “Are you saying no?” he asked against her mouth, teasing her.

  “N-n-nooo,” she sighed.

  “No?”

  “No, not no.”

  He chuckled. “So yes, yes or yes, no?”

  “Yes, yes, damn you, yes!”

  His knee pushed her legs open, and he slipped fully into her warmth, her welcoming, luscious warmth. She took him to the root and gasped out his name.

  “What’s that, babe? Miss me?” He laughed. Her expressive eyes were lost to his gaze when she closed them. “Forget the rules already, love?”

  Her eyes opened, blazing at him. “Love? You never once told me you love me.”

  He smiled, trying to relax her. “Forgive me. I’ve been a total fuckbag.” He didn’t move inside her, just held her wrists. Her legs were kept bound by his thighs as he took her bottom lip between his teeth, then kissed her, slipping his tongue into her wet steamy heat. “Mmm, sweet Michaela, you taste like bananas.”

  She groaned, arching her neck to follow his mouth. “Lip gloss.” Her voice was breathy.

  Looking into her eyes, those beautiful lavender-gray eyes, he saw their future, their forever. “Mia, I love you. God, I love you so much I’m rendered useless by my obsession for you. I’ve gotten nothing done for weeks, just pushed papers around my desk. I’ve missed you so damn much. Missed your companionship. Missed your talk and your games. Missed you cooking for me and your nurturing spirit.” He shivered. “I simply missed looking at you.” He swallowed thickly. “And your touch, God, I can’t live without your cleansing touch. You make my life worth something to me. I want to live longer just to experience more of you.”

  He leaned down again, kissing along her jaw. “Love is a short four-letter word; my feelings for you are much bigger than that. Grander. Wider. Deeper. I’m crazy with desire for you. I fucking adore you.” He rained kisses over her face and chest and neck. “I’m out of control. This whole situation is out of control. I don’t know anything except that to survive, I need you. Say you’ll stay here with me forever.”

  “Yes.” Her breathing was so rapid, she could barely speak.

  “You and me. Together. Forever.”

  “Yes.”

  He placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth. “Tell me the words.”

  “I love you.”

  He wanted her to have no doubts where she belonged, where she was wanted. “And I love you, Michaela Roy. Forever and always.”

  They loved into the early morning, reclaiming one another.

  Chapter 24

  The first rays of sun entered through a crack in the curtains. Mia’s body was too warm, and she realized Augie was wrapped around her. They were face to face, one of his legs resting between her thighs, the other on top of her leg. His arm held her close, wrapping around her waist, and one cradled her head. When she tried to escape, he tightened his hold. She craned her neck to whisper in his ear, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  He groaned and then freed her. “Hurry back.”

  She immediately noticed she wasn’t as sore as she’d been the first time they’d had sex. Studying herself in the mirror, she saw the smile on her face. It seemed to be her new permanent expression. She’d never been so happy, not even on her happiest days.

  After she peed, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. She was naked and being so, knowing Augie would see her in just a minute, made her giggle.

  He was fully awake and watched her as she returned to the bed. She added an extra sway to her hips simply to give him pleasure.

  “I love to hear you laugh,” he said. “I’ve missed it.”

  As soon as she landed on the mattress, he was on top of her, kissing all over her neck, shoulders, jaw, and the corner of her mouth. He pulled away in a quick jerk, catapulting from the bed like an Olympian.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “You’ve brushed your teeth, so I can’t kiss you now. Gotta brush mine first. Be right back.”

  She watched his retreating form—actually, his very firm butt cheeks—as he walked into the bathroom. She smiled and stretched her arms over her head, rolling around in the mussed bedclothes and pillows. She inhaled fully, taking his scent deep inside her lungs. She truly hoped she wasn’t dreaming. Pinching her arm, she said, “Ouch.”

  Watching him walk back to the bed from the bathroom had her stomach doing flips and her throat going dry. His cock sprang up like a Spartan warrior gearing up for battle—proud, erect, and ready for action.

  Staring down at her tangled in the sheets, he asked, “What’s ouch?”

  “Oh, I may have pinched myself.”

  He grasped her wrist, inspecting her forearm. “On what?”

  “No, I mean I pinched myself.”

  “You pinched yourself?”

  She pulled her arm free and covered her face with her hands, feeling insecure and a lot silly. She knew he thought of her as a silly girl. Trying to see through his eyes, she understood why. “I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming and that this was all real. That last night actually happened.”

  Leaning against the headboard, he pulled her into his lap, cradling her with his legs. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands clasping just under her breasts, his head resting on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mia. I’ve never been in this deep. I got scared. I’m a coward. But you … you are so strong. No one has ever stood up to me lik
e you. Would you believe me if I said you’ll never have to wonder again if it’s real?”

  “I’m starting to believe.” She leaned into his neck, but that wasn’t good enough; she needed to see his expression. She needed for him to see hers, to see everything—the certainty, yes, but the doubts as well. She turned in his arms and her eyes met his gaze. “You hurt me. I loved you and you dismissed me and hurt me. Yet I forgive you and I want to trust you.”

  She lowered her gaze, but immediately looked up again. “Trust may take some time.”

  Please, God, don’t let it take too long.

  She needed their trust to build in order to be certain that his love was equal to the love she had for him. Without that trust, their love was powerless.

  *

  He could understand that it might take time for her to trust him again. But he’d never let her out of his sight again. He lifted her chin with his finger. “Marry me,” he whispered and then he kissed her lips.

  “I did marry you.” She held up her hand, displaying the ring.

  “And I’m happy that you wear my ring and my name. What I should have said was, marry me again. In front of our friends and family. I want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

  When she smiled shyly, he added, “And I want them to know that out of all the men in that world, you picked me.”

  Her smile grew. “Are you saying a church wedding with a big dress and dancing?”

  “Yes, and a limo and a honeymoon.”

  She was on her knees, her hands clasped tightly around his neck. “Oh my God, Augie, do you really want that? Because I’m about to get really excited.”

  He chuckled. She was so adorably sweet, it sometimes hurt. “I want all of it.” His words were strained because her arms around his neck were cutting off his air.