Mortified, she tried to slide out from under him, but his immovable body kept her right where she was.
“No, Sabina. I’m no good at this shit. You started this, now stay still and let me finish.”
“Good at what shit?”
“Vent holes.”
Vent holes? She went still, letting herself be captured by Roman’s dark, deep tractor beam of a gaze.
“I got to you in time,” he said in a low growl. “But not her.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. Everything in her wanted to flee. Out, out, she wanted out, wanted to run while she still had a scrap of self-defense left.
But Roman kept her caged between his powerful arms and his massive chest. “Fuck, this is hard. Maybe if I’d done all those counseling sessions I’d know the right words. It’s in my blood. I’m the leader. I’m supposed to lead the way. Take the fall. I’d sacrifice myself for any one of my crew. And Maureen was my wife. I would have put myself in her place in a second, so she could live and Luke would have a mother. It should have been me in the Pile, not her.”
“Oh, Roman.” Tears slipped down her face. What did her selfish feelings matter compared to a loss like that? “You don’t have to talk about this. It’s okay.”
“I’m not done, damn it. When you were in that falling-down building, I was like a wild man. No one could have kept me out.”
Her heart was doing funny things, speeding up, jumping, perhaps stopping entirely. She tried to breathe evenly, but it was no use. “That’s what they said. People kept telling me about it.”
“Well, they didn’t know this part.” He leaned in even closer, so his warm breath surrounded her and the feral light in his eyes outshone the dim glow filtering through the curtains. “There was no way in living hell I was going to watch another fucking pile of concrete take a woman I love.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Had Roman just told her he loved her? Through the roar of the blood racing through her veins, she wanted to rewind the moment, make sure she’d heard him correctly. But he gave her no time. His mouth was devouring hers again, and this time there was no possibility of tearing herself away. He touched her with ravenous need, filling his hands with her breasts until she arched against his hard body. An urgent chant pounded through her . . . get close, touch, lick, pleasure, inhale. She wanted to breathe him into her being, make him part of her.
He met her motion for motion, cry for cry. He traveled her body with his tongue and big hands. They were a devastating combo, his hands taking hold, claiming, keeping her prisoner while he ravaged her with his devilishly clever, wickedly warm tongue. This was no leisurely sensual journey. Oh no. He was a man on a mission, which was apparently to render her so mindless from desire that she’d spread her legs apart before he even reached them, push her hips up to urge his tongue to her sex, even beg him with little incomprehensible whimpers.
“Roman, Roman, please,” she moaned, when he took a side trip to the quivering skin of her inner thigh. “You’re trying to kill me.” His head shook with a laugh, so his hair brushed against her sex. “Oh my God,” she sobbed. What if she came against the top of his head? She forced herself to hold still and concentrate on the meandering swirls of fire he was planting on her skin, sweet trails of sizzling heat.
“Just relax, cara. I got this,” he murmured, sending a breath of heat wafting against her sensitized flesh.
“Relax?”
“Lie back. I’ll take care of everything.” And he stroked his thumb against the aching nub crying out for his attention.
She bit back a sob of joy that something could feel so good. The least she could do was follow his suggestion. Or maybe it was an order. Didn’t matter. She relaxed her body and surrendered to the wicked things he was doing with his tongue and mouth. And thumbs. And fingers. Two went inside her, one after the other, seeking some spot of nirvana, using her moans and twitches and “Oh Gods” to track the way. When that devil finger found what it was after, it got busy, pressing and circling. The wet, warm weight of his tongue picked up the pace too, with sucks and nibbles that made her scream out loud.
The entire lower half of her body lost every shred of control. Her hips thrashed against the bed. If he’d been any less strong, the two of them would have tumbled to the floor, but he kept his grip firm and immovable. There was nothing for her to do but let him taste her and pleasure her and lap her up. Nowhere for her to go except straight into the sun.
And that’s where she went, diving toward the bright, beckoning explosion, reveling in the sweet flash of climax that went on and on under the powerful urging of his hands and mouth. While the spasms still shook her, he poised his thickly aroused cock at her entrance.
“This doesn’t hurt you anywhere? Ankle? Ribs?” The effort of restraint turned his voice harsh as sandpaper.
“No,” she gasped. She’d forgotten she was injured. Maybe she’d feel it later, but right now every part of her body pulsed with well-pleasured delight. “I want you. Come inside, please.”
When he pushed inside her, claiming her completely, it felt as if a bright light spread throughout her being. The light pushed away all the tension, the sadness, the loneliness. In that moment, a brilliant flash of knowledge formed like a perfect crystal: until now, she’d been alone. Entirely, comprehensively alone.
When he was fully embedded in her body, he lowered himself so his chest brushed against her breasts. “I meant what I said before. I love you.”
She nodded, knowing it wasn’t enough. She should say it back. Tell him what she felt, what he made her feel. She even opened her mouth to do so. But nothing came out other than a groan of pleasure.
That was enough, apparently. He flexed his hips, taking her deeper into the velvety darkness as she closed her eyes. She felt every movement of his cock all the way to her fingertips. Her scalp tingled, her mouth flew open. “Roman, I . . . I . . .”
“I know, cara.”
He gathered up her hips, holding her steady while he began a determined, relentless assault. Sparks spangled behind her eyelids. She grabbed his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex and tense. The wild scent of aroused, primal man rolled off him in waves, the smell of sweat and need and salty skin. She lifted her head to lick his shoulder. The taste of him made her crazy for more. She darted her tongue at his neck, his collarbone, every square inch of him she could reach.
“Sabina.” He let out a desperate groan. “I need you. You don’t know how much.”
“You got me,” she whispered. “I’m right here.” She licked the underside of his chin, feeling the stiff stubble abrade her tongue. Taking his chin into her teeth, she gave it a little nip. “There isn’t a single part of you that doesn’t turn me on,” she murmured, then reached for his lips with hers. He tilted his head to make it easy for her. She ran her tongue across his firm mouth, then kissed him with all the savage hunger he aroused in her.
That sent him over the edge. He thrust deep, deeper, so deep all the barriers between them melted away and they seemed to become one being surging toward ecstasy. His body shook from the powerful spasms, he tilted his head toward the heavens and howled his release. She held on tight, like a boat rocked in a storm, until she too got swept into a whirlpool of sensations, down, down, until nothing was left but purest bliss.
Surfacing took a while. But it was so sweet to find herself held tight in Roman’s arms, his cock still inside her, her face pressed against his strong chest with its thump-thumping heart. Roman’s heart. The heart of a lion. A big, black-furred, courageous, true-to-the-bone lion. And he’d said he loved her. Loved her . . .
After a while Roman gingerly rolled off her, onto his back. He pulled the blankets over them, then snuggled her into his arms. Sleep tugged at her, but before she could drift off, Roman spoke.
“No condom,” he said, his voice still raspy. “I got carried away. I’m sorry. But if it helps, I haven’t had unprotected sex since Luke was born.”
She turned her head and blinked
up at him. “It’s okay. I hardly ever have sex.” In her relaxed state, the admission slipped out before she could think it through.
He smiled with the smugness of a conqueror. “Why is that?”
“Cautious. Wary, I guess.”
“Because you used to be on TV?”
“Well, I lost my virginity to someone who saw me as a ticket to the tabloids. It worked for him. Not so much for me. Then when I joined the force I had to be even more careful. I wanted people to focus on my skills, not my gender. I didn’t want to sleep with other firemen.” She gave him a lazy push on the arm. “So much for that plan.”
A rumble of laughter shook his chest. She flattened her hand against it so she could feel it rise and fall under the mat of curly hair.
“I guess we’ve ruined each other’s plans then,” he said.
“What plans?”
“I assumed I’d spend the rest of my life raising Luke. No girls allowed. For me, at least. I’m sure he’ll be wanting a girl. Maybe he’s found one.”
Sabina felt oncoming sleep weigh down her eyelids. She struggled to focus. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s like that. It seems to me he wants to help Carly. You Romans. Always rushing off to help the damsels in distress.”
Tenderly, he cupped her cheek. “In distress? You?”
She had been in distress, though she hadn’t fully realized it until that crystal moment in which she’d seen her life, seen what Roman meant to her. But right now, she couldn’t explain. Too sleepy . . .
“Right,” he said. “That pile of marble I rescued you from.”
No, that wasn’t it. He’d rescued her from something much harder than marble. Her eyes closed halfway. “Marble is nothing compared to . . .”
Compared to what? She’d mumbled something after that, but hell if he could tell what.
He knew what she hadn’t said. She hadn’t said she loved him.
Dio, he’d rushed it, bumbling, boneheaded fool that he was. How could he expect her to share his feelings when he’d barely figured them out? He hadn’t expected to declare himself so suddenly. Must have been his impulsive, romantic Italian nature taking over.
But he’d meant it, every word. He did love her. Still didn’t know what to do about that fact, but fact it was, and knowing him, fact it would stay. He wanted her. All to himself. Forever.
He froze.
What was he talking about, forever? That kind of talk meant . . . But he wasn’t ever going to marry again . . . No, marriage was out of the question, it would be disloyal . . . He’d never even thought about it after Maureen was killed. That part of his life had ended after it had barely begun . . .
Growing up, he’d always assumed that he’d marry and have lots of kids. He loved kids, loved toting around the little ones and building forts with the older ones. He’d always imagined his life would be filled with children. More skeptical about the idea, Maureen had agreed to one child so they could see how they handled being a two-firefighter family.
They hadn’t had much time to try it out before that sunny, cruel day in September.
Since then, he hadn’t given any more thought to his old visions of children, marriage, happiness. What did that mean for him, for Sabina?
As Sabina snored gently next to him, he watched the light at the edge of the curtains grow dishwater gray. Not a single brilliant answer came to him.
At a quarter to six, he shook her awake. “We should get moving.”
Like a good firefighter, she woke instantly and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. And winced.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I keep forgetting.” She yawned and stretched, her torso making a taut, achingly lovely line in the morning light. Her nipples were beautifully high and rosy, her skin flushed from sleep. He wanted nothing more than to throw her back down on the bed.
But Luke and Carly came first. He snagged her clothes off the floor and handed them to her.
“I wish I’d brought another pair of underwear,” she grumbled. “I guess I’ll go commando today.”
He groaned. “Don’t tell me that.”
She batted her eyelashes at him, the gray light bringing out sparks of pure green in her eyes. His chest hurt, she was so beautiful. If he didn’t put some physical distance between them, he’d never get out of here to find Luke.
“Come on,” he said roughly. “I’ll meet you in the lobby. Should I grab you a coffee?”
“Sure. I’ll be right behind you.”
Sabina pulled on her clothes as quickly as she could. Of course Roman was in a hurry. He wanted to snag Luke. She shouldn’t read anything into his distant manner this morning. Even though last night seemed like a dream, it wasn’t. He’d said those words, he’d made powerful, passionate love to her. It had all happened, every erotic, liquefying moment.
The two of them were combustible. Incendiary. Impossible.
In the lobby, Roman looked like he was about to explode. “The damn clerk missed them. He was on a bathroom break and when he came out, they were getting into a taxi. Come on, we gotta go.”
They hurried into the Jeep. Sabina concentrated on the early morning desert landscape, the sun rising behind a light fog the color of mustard. She ignored the increasingly awkward silence. If he wanted to be all business, fine with her. At the steering wheel, Roman scowled at the road, virtually deserted at this hour. “I’m taking away his computer. No, grounding him from baseball. Maybe that’ll teach him.”
“Why don’t we just wait until we find them?”
“I am waiting. But as soon as we do, I’m grounding him. You should ground Carly.”
“I’m not in a grounding kind of position. And her mother still hasn’t called me back. Something really bad must have happened. I just wish she’d told me about it.”
“We’ll know soon enough.”
“Let’s hope.”
That ominous statement hung in the air until they reached the vast complex of the Rancho Berendo State Penitentiary. It was made from massive concrete blocks, with square watch towers anchoring the corners and wire sprouting off the outer walls. Everything about it was large and intimidating and no place for two young kids.
And yet, there they were, two figures waiting outside the front gate. Luke wore his father’s black leather jacket, Carly a blazer that made her look easily eighteen.
Swearing, Roman screeched the Jeep to a halt and jumped out. He ran to Luke, who swung around, wide-eyed, a frightened kid too skinny for his dad’s jacket. Snatching him up, Roman hugged his son so tightly to his chest the boy’s feet dangled above the ground.
Sabina followed more cautiously. Would Carly be mad at her for interfering? But when the girl burst into tears, Sabina moved as fast as she could on her crutches until she reached her side. “Are you okay, Carly?”
“Ye-es.” Her voice wobbled. Sabina was used to the tough, I-can-handle-anything Carly. She’d never seen her so frightened. Balancing on her crutches, she opened her arms and Carly collapsed into them. “But this place is so scary and I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t know what I was thinking. Stupid, stupid, dumb me.”
“Stop that. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” Sabina hugged her and whispered soothing things until the girl’s shaking subsided.
“Can we go?” Carly wiped her face. “This was a stupid idea. I just want to get out of here.”
Sabina glanced over at Roman, who still hadn’t let go of Luke. His face was buried in his son’s hair, his arms wrapped around him. Sabina’s heart stuttered. She knew what she was witnessing—pure, raw, unconditional love. Not something she was used to. Beneath the hardass Chief, the strict parent, the stoic widower, Roman, at his core, was a man who knew how to love. The sight humbled her.
Finally, Luke wriggled free. His sneakered feet hit the pavement and he swiped at the wetness on his cheeks. As Roman gazed down at his wayward son, his expression shifted to one Sabina knew all too well—Training Officer on the Rampage. But before he
could say a word, Luke spoke up.
“I know you’re going to yell, Papa. But can we eat first? I think I’m going to throw up.”
Carly gave a shaky snort. “He’s not too used to junk food.”
Over the kids’ heads, Roman and Sabina’s eyes met with helpless mirth. After the fear and worry, it all came down to junk food.
And just like that, their closeness from last night was back.
They drove back to Bannon, the kids quiet in the backseat. Once they’d found a Denny’s and settled into a booth, the whole story came out. Carly’s mom had gone off the deep end, drinking herself into a stupor every night. She kept threatening to kick Carly out of the house. But the worst part was her boyfriend, who’d announced that he was sick of working for the city sanitation department and wanted to give pimping a try.
“He didn’t mean . . .” Horrified, Sabina couldn’t finish the sentence.
“He keeps giving me funny looks, is the thing. I started wondering about my father. I knew he was only in for selling pot. He’s not violent or anything. Maybe he could take care of me. So Luke helped me find out where he was. We were just going to talk to him. But I didn’t think the prison would be so scary. I can’t believe my father’s inside there.”
She fixed her gaze on her untouched English muffin.
“Why didn’t one of you consider talking to an adult? Luke?” Roman scowled at his son, who went a little pale.
But Carly’s head snapped up. “Don’t get mad at Luke. If he hadn’t gone with me, I would have gone by myself. He was trying to make sure I was safe.”
Roman stopped her flow of words with one upheld hand. “I’m asking my son.”
A long, pulsing silence followed.
Then Luke put down his forkful of French toast and lurched to his feet. “Papa, you treat me like a little kid. Like I can’t handle anything. I just wanted to . . . wanted to . . . Arrgh.” Like a punctured balloon, he sank back onto the booth. “Forget it. It was pretty stupid.”
Roman opened his mouth, then closed it again. He stared long and hard at his son. Before, Sabina would have thought he was angry. Now she knew he was working things out deep inside that huge heart of his.
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