He arched one eyebrow. “What the hell’s wrong with your clothes?”
She gave him a look of disgust. “I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt and no makeup what so ever.” She glanced up at the officers and let her lips quiver. “He humiliated me in front of his friends.”
They all turned and glared at Connor. Hell. Just what he needed. A bunch of pissed-off cops with their protective instincts riled. He glared back at Lyric, not at all fooled by her acting job. Next she’d probably turn on the tears and they’d all kick his ass.
“Are they going to be able to stay with you every hour of the next two weeks?” Connor challenged. “The threat against you is for real, Lyric. I need you to take it seriously.”
“I take it very seriously,” she gritted out. “If you took it so damn serious, you’d work harder not to piss me off.”
Okay, so she had a point. He blew out his breath and shoved his hands into his pockets. “All right, Lyric. Truce.”
She stared suspiciously at him.
“It’s late. You need rest. You’ve had a headache all day. Let’s go back to the hotel so I can give you some more medicine and get you to bed.”
As he’d hoped, the other cops nodded their agreement. Score one for him.
“It’s a good idea, Ms. Jones,” Sergeant Willis said.
She scowled at the sergeant. “I haven’t forgiven you for cuffing me yet, so you don’t get a vote.”
“You cuffed her?” Connor demanded.
It was the sergeant’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I thought she might be a little unstable.” He tapped his temple as he spoke to indicate what he meant.
Lyric’s mouth popped open in outrage. “Is that what ten ninety-six means?”
Sergeant Willis gave her a sheepish look. “Yes, ma’am. We don’t normally use call signs, but I thought if you understood what I was saying over the radio, you might prove more difficult.”
“Men,” she muttered. “All assholes. I ask you for help and you think I’m psycho.”
Connor held in his laughter at her disgruntled look. “Can we go now?”
“Oh, all right. I’ll go with you. But if you piss me off again, I’m going to get that restraining order Sergeant Willis said I could have done.”
Every single one of the policemen fished a card from his wallet and thrust it toward Lyric. All with the assurance that if she ever needed anything, she had only to call.
Lyric smiled and took each of the cards and thanked the officers for their help. Connor had to hand it to her. She knew how to work a crowd. She had every one of the cops eating out of her hand. Hell, if she kept it up, she’d have him eating out of her hand.
“The BMW is still at the gas station,” Lyric mumbled when she got to him. “How are we getting to the hotel?”
“I’ll call a cab.”
“One of us will be happy to drive you back to the gas station to pick up the car,” Sergeant Willis offered. “I’m assuming you have the keys this time.”
Connor pulled the keys from his pocket and then turned to Lyric. “You and I have a lot to talk about, starting with how the hell you learned to hot-wire a car.”
CHAPTER 10
Angelina walked into the bedroom where Micah was already lying on the bed. Propped on his elbow, he watched as she closed the bedroom door and the glitter in his eyes told her what was to come.
Her breath hitched in her throat. She never got tired of that look. It was tender and possessive. It was dark and loving. It was all the things that made her feel cherished beyond measure.
“Undress for me,” he commanded in a quiet voice. “I want to see you and our baby.”
She obeyed without question, her hands sliding to the buttons of her shirt. Slowly she pulled away her clothing, letting the shirt and then her pants drift to the floor until she was clad in only her panties and bra.
Then she reached behind her to undo the clasp of her bra. The straps slid over her shoulders and the cups came away, baring her breasts to his avid gaze.
They were heavier now. She’d always been a bit small, or at least she considered them small. Micah had never complained. But now she’d gained at least a cup size, and they were tender and swollen from her pregnancy.
Micah took extra care when they made love. As demanding and as dominant as he was, he was terrified of hurting her. He was no less commanding than ever, but he was exquisitely gentle now that she carried his child. She hadn’t felt the kiss of a whip in months. Hadn’t felt the thrill of the rougher edge of his dominance.
In time it would return. For now they delighted in a new way to make love. It was as much a discovery as the rest of their relationship, and Angelina cherished every moment.
When her underwear whispered down her legs to coil at her feet, she heard the swift intake of Micah’s breath.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked in a hoarse, low voice.
She raised her gaze to meet his and drowned in the warm chocolate of his eyes. They burned with so much love and desire. Her heart swelled with love. Her love for him. He was hers. She was his. They had created a child together. They had created love.
“I feel beautiful when you look at me,” she said honestly.
His eyes softened. “I want you to always see how beautiful you are when you see the way I look at you. I want you to know how loved you are.”
She smiled and waited quietly for his command. She loved moments like these when she awaited his pleasure, knowing he was content to just look at her.
“Come to me,” he said.
She crawled onto the bed and sank to her knees as she stared down at his muscled body. So perfect and beautiful. He was dark—nearly as dark as her own skin, though he had no Hispanic heritage. His hair was dark brown, so dark it looked black.
The same dark hair coiled at the juncture of his thighs and his cock lay to the side, semierect as if awaiting her attention.
She remained still, content to wait for Micah’s command.
He ran his hand up her thigh, to the curve of her waist and then higher to cup the swell of her breast. He toyed idly with one nipple, careful as always with the highly sensitive tips.
“You look tired tonight, Angel. Is your back still hurting?”
“It was earlier. I think I stood too long. It’s better now.”
“Come here.”
He pulled her down, arranging her so she faced away. His hand glided up and down the curves of her body. He ran it over her hip and up to palm her belly. Then he lowered his head and kissed the curve of her neck.
A delicate shiver raced down her spine, spreading goose bumps in its wake.
There was a dip in the bed as his hand left her and he repositioned his body. Then he began rubbing and kneading her back, his hands working sweet magic over her tired, aching muscles.
She moaned softly as he worked slowly down to her buttocks and then back up again to massage her nape.
“Feel good?” he murmured.
Tears pricked her eyelids. It was wonderful, but every day with him was wonderful. After surviving her attack months before, she was grateful for every moment she had with Micah. She lived as if each moment could be their last together, and it was ridiculous because she had the power to cement their lives together.
“Hey, are you okay, Angel girl?”
The worry in his voice made her heart squeeze. How could she find the words to tell him she’d never been better than right here, right now, in his arms?
She turned awkwardly, and in the end, he had to help her as she rotated to face him. Their noses were just an inch apart and she twined her legs with his, allowing his heat to seep into her body.