Killer Season

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Killer Season Page 21

by Lara Lacombe


  Until now.

  He’d been so used to compartmentalizing his life and his relationships that he’d never really allowed someone all the way in. He had his work friends and his family, and he liked keeping the two categories separate. Now, for the first time, he recognized that he’d been shortchanging himself. He’d put so much time and effort into his job that he’d neglected the life part of the work-life balance.

  Fiona had changed all that. She’d given him a reason to focus on life again. And while he’d focused on work to make sure he could provide for his family later on, he wasn’t going to have much of a family left if he didn’t invest the time in them now. That realization was her gift to him, and it was priceless.

  She was such an amazing woman, and she didn’t even know it. The way she’d stepped up to care for her mother, the way she’d urged him to connect to his own family—she’d opened his eyes to his mistakes without any judgment or censure. She’d merely served as an example, showing him in her own, unique way how things could be.

  And he loved her for it.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her even closer. She clutched his shoulders, a fine tremor running through her body as she kissed him. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, galloping out a rhythm to match his own. The knowledge that her eagerness matched his only served to heighten his arousal, and he had the sudden, all-consuming need to feel her, to remove the barriers between them and touch her skin. He needed to have that unrestricted contact between their bodies, to revel in the sensations that only her skin could provide.

  He gave the hem of her shirt an experimental tug, silently asking permission. He didn’t want to rush things between them, but if he didn’t get his hands on her soon, he felt like he would die.

  Fiona broke the kiss, pulling back enough that he could see the flush on her cheeks and the shine of her eyes. She moved to take off her shirt but paused with her arms halfway up, wincing.

  “Help me?”

  The sight of her pain hit him like a cold shower and Nate bit his lip, shaking his head. “Maybe we should wait until you’ve recovered.”

  Fiona pursed her kiss-swollen lips and lifted one eyebrow, her expression determined. “I told you before, I’m fine. Now, am I going to have to cut my shirt off, or are you going to help me?” Her mouth curved up in a wry smile that sent a zing of sensation straight to Nate’s stomach.

  “I’d hate for you to ruin such a nice shirt,” he murmured, reaching forward to take the hem in his hands. He lifted it slowly, gently, taking care not to jostle her or disturb her side any more than was necessary.

  He’d meant to fold the shirt and place it on the sofa, but the sight of her pale, albeit bruised, skin transfixed him and he dropped it carelessly to the ground. If Fiona noticed, she didn’t seem to care. She looked up at him from under her lashes, seeming suddenly shy.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, running his gaze over the dips and slopes of her body.

  “Really?” She sounded hopeful, as if she wanted to believe he was telling her the truth.

  He stepped forward and traced her collarbone with the tip of his finger. Goose bumps rose in the wake of his touch, and he traced the line of the bone with his tongue. She shivered and let out a low moan.

  “Really,” he said, tipping her head up so she met his gaze.

  Her eyes softened and she nodded, giving him a small smile. “Your turn,” she whispered.

  Nate set a land speed record tugging off his shirt, and his ego was rewarded by the sight of Fiona’s eyes widening in appreciation. “Very nice,” she said, her gaze tracing over his chest and stomach to linger on his belt buckle. Her hand lifted, a tentative gesture of intent. He stepped forward, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his chest. “You can touch me anywhere,” he assured her.

  Her fingers curled into the hair on his chest, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin. She brought her other hand up to roam across his torso, stopping to explore the ridges of muscle and trace the line of hair that bisected his stomach. Nate was content to let her take the lead—his body wanted nothing more than to speed things along, but he was determined not to rush Fiona. Not for their first time. He wanted her to set the pace, and so he gathered every ounce of his self-control and ignored the needs of his body.

  But then she put her mouth on him, and all logical thought flew out the window.

  He groaned and stepped back, needing to break the contact before he did something he’d regret. Fiona glanced up at him, confused and a little uncertain. “I’m hanging on by a very thin thread,” he told her, his voice so hoarse he barely recognized it as his own. “I don’t want to rush you into anything.”

  Her lips curved in a seductive smile, and her eyes warmed. “Let go,” she said, her voice sultry. “I’ll catch you.”

  He watched in silence as Fiona deftly worked the button of his pants. He wanted to warn her, wanted to tell her he wasn’t going to last, but his brain simply would not work. Then she touched him, and his consciousness short-circuited into a million sparks of light.

  He was vaguely aware of movement, of Fiona taking him by the hand and leading him somewhere. Then he fell into softness and realized they were in her bedroom. Fiona stood over him, tugging on his pants. He helpfully lifted his hips, and his pants slid free of his body in one smooth motion. The cool air of the room felt good against his heated skin, and the shock of it pulled him back into the moment.

  He sat up and reached for Fiona. She came willingly into his arms, pressing herself against him with a sigh of pleasure. He leaned back, bringing her with him until they both lay on the bed, their limbs entwined. He rolled until he was over her, careful to keep his weight on his arms so he didn’t crush her ribs further.

  Fiona’s hair spread out on the bed in an auburn halo, and the familiar scent of lemons he’d come to associate with her grew stronger as he bent to kiss her again. She moved under him, her hips lifting in a silent plea he was only too happy to acknowledge.

  He skimmed his hand down the silky softness of her side until he reached the waistband of her pants. Then it was his turn to rise up and tug, peeling the pants from her body and exposing her legs inch by provocative inch. Her skin glowed in the soft light of the bedside table lamp, a pale, luminous shine that made it look as if she’d been painted with a silvery gilt. So lovely. He took a second to appreciate the sight, pushing down the demands of his body lest he miss out on something. He certainly didn’t plan for this to be the only time they were together, but he wanted to remember everything about their first encounter so he could savor it later.

  Fiona apparently didn’t share his patience. She reached for his hand and tugged, pulling him down on top of her and kissing him. He relaxed his muscles, his body melding around hers as they moved together. After a few moments, she pulled away, tearing her mouth from his on a gasp.

  “Wait,” she said, sounding a little breathless as she moved under him.

  Nate rose up on his knees, pushing down his disappointment. She’d changed her mind—maybe her side was hurting her more than she wanted to admit? He glanced down, his jaw tightening at the deep purple marks that marred her skin. No wonder she wanted to stop. Breathing alone had to be painful enough.

  Fiona wriggled out from under him and turned to her bedside table, reaching for the drawer. It took him a second to realize what she was doing, but awareness dawned on him when she turned back and handed him a small foil packet. His face must have betrayed his relief, because she took one look at him and laughed.

  “Did you think I had changed my mind?”

  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, feeling his cheeks heat. “It’s okay if you do,” he said. He traced a finger over her bruises, but she shook her head.

  “Not on your life. Now get back here.”

  He was only too happy to comply. He took care of business and was welcomed back into Fiona’s arms, and then into her body. She let out a sigh of satisfaction that was echoed
in his soul, and as they moved together, Nate felt like he was coming home.

  * * *

  Sometime later, Nate tightened his grip on Fiona, pulling her even closer as he wrapped his body around hers. She made a small, inquisitive sound, and he nuzzled her hair.

  “I’m just not ready to let you go yet,” he whispered.

  He heard the smile in her voice when she responded, “That’s okay. You can hold me as long as you like.”

  His mind drifted over the events of the past few hours, playing back their interlude as he recalled every moment. The look on her face. Her sounds of pleasure. The feel of her skin against his. He’d had his fair share of lovers before, but nothing had ever been quite like this. He chuckled softly as realization hit.

  “What’s so funny?” She sounded a little drowsy, as if she’d been pulled back from the edge of sleep.

  Nate debated for a second, then decided he might as well confess. He was tired of keeping people at arm’s length, and Fiona deserved to know exactly how he felt about her. Even though they’d only known each other a few days, he had a feeling she would understand.

  “I was just thinking,” he said, nuzzling the shell of her ear. “Everyone talks about ‘making love,’ and I’ve never really understood that description. I thought it was just something a marketing guru made up to sell cards or chick flicks. But now—” he pressed a soft kiss to her earlobe “—I actually get it.”

  Fiona stopped breathing, and Nate felt a flicker of fear. Had he said too much? Maybe he should have played it cool. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away!

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” she asked, her voice very small.

  Nate’s gut twisted into knots, but he couldn’t back down now. Better to tell her the truth than to lie and pretend otherwise. He wanted them to have a life together, and he refused to build the foundation of their relationship on lies.

  “Well. Yes. I think I am.”

  She turned in his arms until she was facing him. Her eyes were wide and luminous, and as he watched, a sheen of tears formed. She blinked them away, but he’d seen them. Great—he’d made her cry.

  “Fiona,” he started, trying to find the right words to apologize. This was not going well at all. “I’m—”

  She shook her head and pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. Then she smiled, and it transformed her face. “You have no idea how it feels to hear you say that.”

  “Oh?” So those weren’t sad or scared tears after all. His worry evaporated, and a sense of relief enveloped him. He hadn’t screwed up the moment!

  “And just so you know,” she continued, leaning forward to kiss him. “I feel the same way about you.”

  Her words hit him right in the heart, and for a second, he could only stare at her in wonder. It was one thing to imagine she had feelings for him. Hearing her say it, though, was quite another, and it took him a moment to process it. Her confession triggered a waterfall of emotions, each one racing by so fast he didn’t have a chance to grab hold before another one passed by.

  The sheer joy he’d felt as a kid on the first day of summer vacation. The pride from graduating the police academy. The bliss of a lazy Sunday afternoon at the ballpark. The stomach-churning anticipation at the top of a roller coaster, right before the first plunge. The fizzy, blood-tingling effervescence of sipping champagne. So many sensations, and yet none of them did justice to his current feeling.

  After a moment, he realized Fiona was studying him, a small frown on her face. “Are you okay? Is it too soon to talk about this?”

  He laughed, the sound one of unbridled joy. Had he ever laughed like that before? Had he ever had a reason to?

  “I’ve never been better,” he assured her, pulling her close again. “And we can talk about anything and everything. I don’t care what we talk about, as long as you’re with me.”

  She melted against him, her body going limp and liquid around his. “Oh, good,” she said, her breath hot against his skin. “But what do you say we hold off on conversation for a bit? There are other ways we can communicate.” She punctuated this statement with an intimate caress that made him see stars.

  “Later is fine, too,” he managed to choke out, right before he lost the ability to speak.

  Epilogue

  One week later

  Nate pulled to a stop and cut the engine before turning to look at her. “Ready?”

  Fiona twisted the hem of her shirt in her hands and bit her lip. “Are you sure about this?”

  He smiled, but it did little to reassure her. Her stomach was full of butterflies, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous.

  “Are you having second thoughts?”

  She shook her head, but his question had hit close to the truth. “I just don’t know if this is the best idea. Your family hasn’t seen you in months. They’re going to want to spend time with you, not with some random girl you’ve brought with you.”

  Nate’s brows drew together as he regarded her. “First of all,” he said, taking one of her hands, “you are not some random girl—you are my girlfriend, and I love you.” He punctuated this with a squeeze, and she was forced to smile. She’d never get tired of hearing him say those three words. So simple, and yet so powerful.

  “And second of all, they’re excited to meet you. I’ve told them all about you, and they’re thrilled by you already.”

  “But it’s Christmas! Surely this is a time for your family traditions, and I don’t want to intrude.”

  He leaned over to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you honestly think I’d leave you alone on Christmas? Not on your life. Like it or not, you’re part of my family now, and that means you get to be included in all the celebrations. Besides, we’ve already started making our own traditions.” He waggled his eyebrows at her in an exaggerated leer and she laughed, the memory of their morning celebrations making her cheeks go warm.

  It was hard to deny his logic. Still, she couldn’t help but worry. What if Nate’s mother took one look at her and hated her? What if she thought Fiona was taking away her baby boy? What if his sister, Molly, didn’t like her? Nate was just starting to reach out to his family again, and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the progress he was making.

  “I can practically hear you thinking,” he said drily.

  Fiona opened her mouth to respond, but a flicker of movement caught her eye. The curtains hanging in the front window of his parents’ house had moved. Their arrival had been noted—it was too late to make Nate take her back now.

  The front door opened, and a young woman barreled down the walk, almost tripping over her shoes in her excitement. She ran up to the car and began tapping insistently on the driver’s side window, her face split into a wide grin.

  Nate waved at her, then turned back and pressed a quick kiss to Fiona’s mouth. “You’ve got this,” he whispered. She smiled and nodded, and he gave her hand one final squeeze before opening his door and climbing out of the car.

  Fiona emerged slowly, her eyes never leaving Nate as he wrapped his sister in a bear hug and picked her up off the ground to spin her around, eliciting delighted squeals of laughter.

  “You came! You came!” she said, her eyes shining as she stared up at her big brother. “I’ve been waiting all day! I woke up really early, which made Mom and Dad grumpy. But they’re not mad anymore,” she clarified.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Nate replied. “And of course I came. I couldn’t miss seeing you at Christmas.”

  Fiona shut the car door, and Nate’s sister turned to look at her. “Hello,” she said with a smile. “My name is Molly.”

  “Hi, Molly.” Fiona took a few steps forward until she was standing next to Nate. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her in close to his side. “I’m Fiona.”

  Molly’s expression melted into one of transfixed fascination. “Were you named after the princess in the movie?” she breathed.


  Fiona laughed and shook her head. “No, but I really liked that movie. What about you?”

  Molly nodded enthusiastically. “It’s my favorite. I like it that she’s green. Green is my favorite color.”

  “Mine, too,” Fiona told her.

  Molly grinned, then grabbed Nate’s hand and started to pull. “Let’s go inside. Mom made a turkey, and she said we have to wait to eat until you get here. I’m glad you came, because I’m hungry.”

  Nate laughed, but resisted his sister’s tug. “Give me just a minute, okay? Fiona and I have some things to carry inside.”

  “Like presents?” Molly sounded so hopeful Fiona couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Nate winked at her and then turned back to his sister.

  “Exactly. Go ahead and tell Mom and Dad we’re here. We’ll come inside in just a minute.”

  “Okay.” Molly nodded happily and ran back inside the house, yelling for her parents the moment she crossed the threshold.

  Nate glanced down. “Doing okay?” he asked, his tone solicitous.

  Fiona smiled up at him. “She’s wonderful.”

  “She is,” he agreed. “And not at all scary, right?”

  “Right.” She let out a sigh of relief, feeling a little lighter. His sister seemed to like her. One down, two to go...

  “Ready to meet Mom and Dad?”

  “Yes,” she said, gathering her courage.

  Nate’s green eyes were the color of a Christmas tree as he smiled. “They’re going to love you. Just like I do.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she replied.

  He opened the back door and retrieved a basket of brightly wrapped packages. They had spent the past week shopping for gifts, something Nate claimed he’d never done before. He had wanted to give everyone gift cards, but Fiona had insisted on buying real presents for his family, and Nate had humored her. Fighting the crowds hadn’t been fun, but she had enjoyed spending the time with Nate and learning more about him.

 

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