Before she could open her eyes he was moving up her body. His mouth captured hers with an urgency she’d missed before. She tasted him, her, all the years they’d lost. When she heard the rasp of cellophane, she reached down to help him suit up only to discover she was too late. His hands raced to her hips as he pushed his way between her thighs. She gasped against his mouth as his pulsing erection brushed over her center, then groaned with pleasure when he sank into her in one mighty thrust.
Obviously, she’d said the right thing because he couldn’t get at her fast enough. And oh, she loved it. She wrapped her legs around him, held him close as he pumped into her and she met him thrust for thrust. All the while he was kissing her, driving her crazy with his mouth, he made love to her with his body like it was the first time. The last time. Like every time they’d missed over the years.
The importance of the moment wasn’t lost on her. Even as her orgasm built, and though she knew it was cliché and common and that there was a much better time, she wanted him to know how she felt.
She hooked her leg over his hip, used her hand to push against his shoulder to roll him to his back. He took the hint easily, rolled with her and gathered her tight as she settled on top of him and took control.
Those half-lidded, smoky eyes were lit with an erotic light that pulled at her. She kissed him, tightened her muscles and met his upward thrusts. “Kit-Kat. What you do to me.”
Warmth gathered in her center. She was about to peak, but she didn’t want to. Not until he did. With her hands braced on both sides of his head, she leaned down and rested her forehead against his. The medal around her neck fell over his heart, right where it was supposed to be. “I love you, Pete. I always have.”
He exploded inside her on a long groan, and she held on tight as her own climax washed over her seconds later. In that moment, the past was finished and buried. Never to come between them again.
His mouth found hers, hot and wet and possessive. And she loved it. Loved those strong arms of his circling around to hold her close. Loved the way he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Loved the steady beat of his heart in time with her own.
Still joined together, she collapsed against his chest and pressed her face against his neck as she took long, slow deep breaths. The whole time, he whispered sweet words and trailed his hand up and down her spine.
She snuggled in and closed her eyes. For the first time in years, she was filled with a hope she was almost too afraid to believe in.
Every inch of her body ached.
Hailey lay still on her side and held her breath to keep from crying out. Not an easy thing to do considering it hurt like a son of a bitch even to breathe.
The vehicle she was in bounced and jerked her to the side, sending pain lancing through her torso where she’d been kicked. So much for all that self-defense training. She’d let these creeps get the jump on her, and now she was in deep shit. And no doubt black and blue from scalp to toe.
Okay, think.
She had no idea where they were heading, but the rhythmic whap, whap, whap filtering through her mind told her they were most likely on a bridge.
Bridge…bridge…bridge. Hell, that could be anywhere.
Her memories were vague from the moment Minyawi had knocked her out cold in Lauren’s house in Key Biscayne. She was pretty sure she’d been put on a plane, then stuffed into a car. She knew they’d called her by Lauren’s name several times, so they hadn’t yet figured out they’d fucked up. At one point she remembered being in some sort of dingy motel with Minyawi—yeah, he was a sick fuck—eyeing her like she was the last hooker in a brothel. But now even that, along with everything else, including the beating she’d obviously taken, was a fleeting blur. And thank God for that little side trip into amnesia-land. On top of the rest of the crap in her life, she seriously didn’t need the trauma from this fucked-up nightmare.