Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,72

anticipation of how they’d be together. She lay back on the bed, pulling him with her, and the delicious weight of him between her thighs made her moan as she hooked her leg around him and kissed him.

He moved down her, lingering over her neck and then her breasts and then her navel before sliding the last scrap of clothing from her body, and by the time it whispered to the floor, she could hardly breathe because her heart was racing. She reached for the condom and handed it to him, and he tore it open with his teeth and got it on quickly. He shifted her legs apart and rested his palm behind her head.

Holding her gaze, he pushed inside her, making her gasp. She closed her eyes and wrapped her legs around him as he pushed again. And again. They fit together perfectly, and she clutched his hips as he surged into her over and over, until every cell in her body burned and glowed. She wanted more. Him. She moved against him, straining to keep up with the pace as he moved faster and faster, until she felt mindless with need.

“Bailey, hold on.”

She closed her eyes and dug her nails into him, and he drove into her so hard, the bed jumped.

“Jesus, sorry.”

“Don’t stop.”

He kept going until she felt so hot, she could hardly breathe.

“Bailey . . .”

She heard the edge in his voice, and she pulled him closer, as close as she could until they were fused together.

“Now,” she gasped. “Please.”

Another mind-blowing thrust, and she came apart. He held her through the tremors, and then collapsed on top of her.

She couldn’t breathe or move with his weight on her. But she didn’t care. She was too blissed out to care about anything.

He pushed up on his arms and stared down at her, breathing hard. Then he got out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

She closed her eyes. Oh. My. God. All this time she’d suspected. And now she knew.

The bed creaked as he stretched out beside her. She rolled toward him but didn’t open her eyes. Her heart hammered inside her chest. She rested her fingers against his sternum and felt his hammering, too. His skin was warm and slick, and she loved that they’d worked up a sweat together.

She had so many questions. Was it always this intense for him? Or was there something special with her? She looked up at him, and his eyes were closed, but his thudding heart told her he was wide awake.

She wondered if he had to leave soon. Or if he was on call tonight. If he was, she didn’t want to know about it. She didn’t want to think about work or crime or violence. She didn’t want to talk or argue or analyze anything. She just wanted to float along on a cloud of perfect, soul-searing sex.

He slung his arm over her waist and pulled her closer, and Bailey’s heart melted at the possessiveness of the gesture. Nestling her head against him, she sighed deeply and let herself drift.

* * *

* * *

TABITHA CUT THROUGH the kitchen and stopped at Theo’s office. Empty again, damn it.

A bitter lump of frustration clogged her throat. He’d blown her off Thursday after the wake, and tonight he hadn’t been into work at all yet. She needed her money, and she couldn’t wait around anymore.

Someone had followed her home yesterday—she could have sworn to it. She’d ducked into a grocery store and sneaked out the back, walking right through the refrigerated stockroom before slipping into an alley. She’d taken a back route home, glancing over her shoulder the whole time, and when she finally reached her door her clothes had reeked of sweat and panic.

Was she being paranoid? Maybe.

But Robin hadn’t been paranoid enough. Instead she’d been trusting and look where that had gotten her. She’d trusted the government, not just once but twice, and it had cost her everything.

Tabitha stared at Theo’s cluttered desk, and tears burned her eyes. She needed that money, and it was hers. She’d earned it. She spied the little brass key beside his computer. It probably opened the top desk drawer where he kept a black zipper pouch, which held a thick stack of cash. She eyed the key, and her fingers itched to grab it.

Four hundred dollars. That was what stood between her and her escape. That amount used to mean nothing. It was a big weekend out. A pair of nice