His laugh was husky. “We’re gonna get arrested.”
“Leland’ll have my ass. Be worth every embarrassing minute.” A moan escaped her lips.
And then he slid a hand between their bodies, his broad palm covering her hipbone to hipbone. One calloused pad slid into the top of her folds, rasping her clit.
Cait’s head jerked back; her body went limp. Impaled on his cock, her hips sliding forward and back, grinding her sex against his, she let go, letting the pleasure wash through her, wave after endless wave.
When she came back to herself, Sam had her folded against his chest. His cock was still hard and pulsing inside her.
She lifted her head. “Sorry about that.”
His teeth flashed again. “That you left me behind? Selfish of you.”
They’d sat there, panting hard. And she’d known there was no way this was the one and only time they’d succumb to their longing. However, instead of becoming a distraction for their professional partnership, they’d melded together like a single entity, working like a well-oiled team.
They’d married quietly, telling Leland but not announcing the event widely. Although he’d made noise about splitting up their partnership, the threat was always “After you wrap up this next case.”
Until her past found her. And the voices that had been an ever-present, indistinguishable murmur grew louder and more distinct.
Cait had battled for her sanity the only way she’d known how. She drank, grateful for the peace the alcohol provided, however temporary. The deeper into the bottle she fell, the more Sam had drawn away, confused and hurt.
She’d been unwilling to share the reasons for her fall. And toward the very end, when the voices and drinking became almost constant, she’d been unable to keep it from interfering with her job.
The night a uniformed officer had been killed, she’d heard him calling her toward the shooter. When she’d found Orlando Cruz and drew her gun, she knew there was no going back. She’d told the truth at the administrative hearing that had followed the shooting, about how she’d found Cruz when no one else had known where to look, and damned herself.
Leland had pressed her to resign, to save her father’s name from being tarnished.
Nothing had ever been the same between her and Sam. He’d finally left her for good because she’d stubbornly refused to get help.
Cait rolled onto her side and curled into a ball. “This can’t be it,” she whispered. “We’ve just found each other again. There’s so much left to say.”
Footsteps padded nearby.
“Go away, Morin.”
“Not Morin, sweetheart. But you might want to be nicer to him the next time you see him.”
Cait’s heart stopped. Her head turned to find Sam, dressed in his dress shirt and trousers, striding toward the bed. When he sat on the edge of the mattress, she gasped, because his weight caused it to dip.
She reached out a shaky hand and felt solid muscle wrapped around steely bone. Her heartbeat raced, and she sucked in a breath. If she blinked, would he disappear? “How can this be? Is this real?”
His dark gaze steady, Sam shook his head. “We only have now.”
Her heartbeat continued to thunder inside her chest. “This is his shop. Time stands still.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Gonna stay here forever, Cait?”
Although she knew the lie she spoke, she said the words anyway. “If it means I can have you? Yes.”
Sam’s chest rose around a deep inhalation. “Morin worked a little spell. Drew me here.”
“A summoning.”
“Not quite. For as long as the candle he burns lasts, I’ll be with you.”
Cait drew a ragged breath. “No! It’s not enough.”
Sam swallowed, but then forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Baby, we shouldn’t waste time railing against what we can’t have.”
For as long as Morin’s candle burns. Cait sniffed, then forced away her tears and her denial. She offered Sam a nod, telling him she understood.
He reached and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I love your hair. Love the color, the thickness.”
“Love pulling it,” she said with a little smile.
As his smile deepened, his eyes wrinkled at the corners. “Yeah, I do.” His fingers wrapped around a lock and tugged. Then he smoothed his fingers along her cheek and rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “First time I met you, I knew I was in trouble. So much fire in your green eyes. So much attitude—every bit of it bad.”
She chuckled, surprised she could manage to laugh. Then her breath hitched. “I was groaning inside. You were too good-looking. A distraction. And the longer we worked together, the harder I struggled to hide the fact you turned me on.”
“I didn’t see you fighting it. Those glances, always so busy checking me out. Wanted to tell you to stop, but then I’d have to admit I’d noticed. Besides, I was doing my own looking too.”
Her strength returning, she pushed up to sit beside him. “I wanted you, but I didn’t expect to fall for you. We were supposed to be nothing but sex. Nothing complicated, but…” Her head dipped as her cheeks grew hot.
Sam smiled and scooted closer. “I tried to keep it light. But the first time I slid inside you, I didn’t want it to end. When you came apart in my arms, your orgasm was so damn beautiful. You were beautiful.” His head bent toward hers, his gaze lingering on her face. “I fell in love with you.”
“I sensed it.” Cait let a small smile tilt her lips. “I was afraid of things getting sticky. But you were always there for me. And you surprised me. Rough sometimes, but so careful. You gave me exactly what I needed to shake me up and pay attention.” She gazed upward, her eyes filling. “I know loving me wasn’t easy,” she whispered, forcing the words through a dry throat.
“No, you’re not easy.” He bent his head and kissed her mouth, letting loose a long sigh that drifted across her mouth and warmed her cheek. “I wouldn’t have respected easy. Our involvement wouldn’t have lasted. You kept things interesting, always changing. I never knew what direction you’d go next. Sometimes, the relationship scared me. Most times, it made me angry, but we both liked the results.”
They smiled, mouths close.
Cait’s eyes blinked to clear her vision. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too. Always.” He closed his eyes. “That candle’s burning.” Sam settled his hands at her narrow waist and smoothed up her shirt.
Although they trembled, she raised her arms and held still while he stripped away her shirt and bra.
He rose and removed the rest of her clothing, and then his own. When he bent again, she opened her arms.
Sam lay down beside her, tucking her gently against his chest. “We should talk.”
She shook her head, not wanting the real world to intrude. Didn’t want the image of his wizened, unrecognizable body intruding. Smoothing her hands over his broad chest, she drew nearer and pressed a kiss on the muscle right over his heart.
“I don’t want you going back there,” he said. “I don’t want you hurt.”
Again, she shook her head. “How can I just walk away after what he did to you?”
Sam’s eyes closed, and he drew a deep breath. “I didn’t feel much. Once I was hurtling through the air, down that hallway, I blacked out. I didn’t feel a thing.”
“Stop.” She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.
“I want you to know I didn’t suffer.”
She leaned closer and pressed her mouth against his to shut him up.
For a split second, his mouth remained firm, but then he groaned and opened, his tongue pushing into her mouth. He rolled over her.