Midnight Shadows (6 page)

Chapter Four

They were barely inside the front door when she started stripping. “Where’s the bathroom?”

He had brought her back to the beach house he’d rented when she’d taken on this undercover stint. That she hadn’t questioned him about the place told him exactly how shaken she was.

Though every protective cell in his body urged him to hold her and find out what the hell had happened, Ian knew not to touch her. She would want to find control on her own. He wanted answers, but first he needed to make her feel safe.

He pointed toward the direction of the master bedroom, the bathroom beyond it, and watched silently as she dashed toward the rooms. Since she smelled as though someone had upended a gallon of cheap perfume on her, he figured she wanted to remove the stench but it was more than that. Whatever had happened had shaken her to her core.

While she showered, he fed Jack and took him for a quick walk. When they came back inside, the hound waddled to his bed and collapsed onto the cushion with a happy, noisy sigh.
 

Ian stood in the middle of the living room and listened. Not only was he surprised that Sabrina hadn’t come out of the bedroom, he couldn’t believe that the shower was still running.

Needing to check, just to make sure she was okay, he strode through the bedroom and then into the bathroom. She’d finally shut off the water and was just stepping out of the shower.
 

Her clothes lay scattered around the bathroom as if she’d haphazardly flung each piece the instant she’d taken it off. The black wig she’d been wearing hung halfway out of the small garbage can beside the sink. The extra bra padding lay on the floor beside the can as if she’d thrown it and missed her target.
 

Lilah Green had entered the room but now no longer existed. In her place stood a pale, slender woman with short, white-blonde hair, light green eyes, and a veiled vulnerability that Ian had never been able to resist.

He handed her a large fluffy towel. While she dried off, he went to the medicine cabinet, pulled out gauze, antibiotic ointment and tape. “Come over here.”

“I can do that.”

The look he gave her cut off any further protests. There was a place and a time for her independence to show itself, this wasn’t one of them. Ian would see to her injuries.

She stood before him, held her arms out and watched in silence as he gently smoothed the ointment on her ravaged skin, then wound gauze around the wounds.

“I wished I’d killed them for this alone,” Ian whispered.

“You didn’t…?”

She left the question in the air. They both knew what he was capable of.

“No, they’re probably already awake. Hopefully with massive headaches and multiple bruises.”
 

He concentrated on his task for several seconds, willing the rage to settle down. When he spoke again, it was in a mild, unthreatening tone. “You ready to talk?”

“Can you give me just a few more minutes?”

She still hadn’t regained that steeliness she wore like a protective coating. Pushing aside his own needs for the time being, Ian silently put away the medical supplies and left her alone.

Even though the temperature outside was well over eighty, Ian went to the fireplace and busied himself building a fire. Not only would she need the heat to help her deal with her shock, he needed something to occupy himself. Sabrina’s fierce independence was often difficult to accept, especially when he knew she was hurting.

Half an hour later she finally appeared in the living room. Her outfit made him smile. He rarely traveled without packing something for her. When she was lounging around at his house, one of his old college T-shirts and a pair of his socks was her usual attire. He’d thrown this one in because it seemed to be her favorite.
 

Ian handed her a double shot of bourbon, figuring that would get her blood warmed up faster than anything. Her face was still as white as Florida sand and held a pinched, worried expression.

She took a long, healthy swallow. “Thanks. You always know exactly what I need.”
 

No, not always. But he had studied this woman unlike anything or anyone else in his life.
 

“There’s something else you need. Come over here by the fire.”

Her look one of absolute trust, Sabrina came to him and took the hand he held out to her.
 

Kneeling, he pulled her down with her back to him. “Relax.” He then began to knead the knots at the top of her shoulders.

She whispered, “Thank you” and then went silent.

Even though a massage would be easier without clothes, Ian couldn't ask that of her. More than anything, she needed to feel safe. He had been her safety net before and would never want to damage that trust.
 

Her body went limp as if finally giving out and Ian was able to smooth out the knotted muscles in her shoulders and neck. “Lie down, I'll get your back and glutes.”
 

Instead of complying, she surprised him by twisting around and pulling him to her for a kiss. Even though he wanted to respond with all the heat burning inside him, he let her take the lead. Her mouth, soft and sweet, tasting like his mint-flavored toothpaste and Sabrina, was delicious, addictive. When her tongue swept against his lips, he opened up and allowed her tongue to sweep inside. His tongue responded, tangling with hers but never thrusting.

Before things got too heated, he pulled away scant inches and whispered, “We need to talk about what happened. We can’t let those men—”

“We will, I promise. But I need this now. Please?”

She never needed to say please to him. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ian would give her anything she asked.
 

Sabrina pulled the T-shirt over her head, needing Ian more than she ever had before. Only he could make her feel clean, renewed. Only he could erase the darkness inside her. Make her forget what she'd seen today.

As Ian's eyes swept over her, delicious arousal spread through her, both exciting and familiar. His look spoke of appreciation, affection, tenderness. All the things she had come to rely on in this man. The memories of Armando Cruz and his filthy hands and lust filled eyes were at last fading away.
 

Wanting to feel his naked chest against hers, Sabrina unbuttoned his shirt. As she did this, Ian thankfully unzipped his pants, toed off his shoes and stripped the rest of his body. By the time she'd finished with his shirt and had pulled it off his shoulders, the rest of him was bare. Sabrina pressed against his warm, hard body, savored the feeling. Ian represented everything that was good and decent in a man.
 

“Tell me what you want.”
 

“You, Ian. Only…always you. Make love to me.”
 

Lying back on the soft rug, she watched his face as he bent over her, kissing her with tenderness and exquisite care. They'd made love numerous times…their joining usually passionate, fiery, sweaty. But Ian, somehow, always seemed to know just what she needed. At this moment, passion was set aside and his gentleness took over, giving her exactly what she required.

Ian Mackenzie was as rare as a mountain cactus in the ocean. She relished that she'd found someone who understood her so well.

Starting at her forehead, his mouth trailed kisses down her face and her neck. He stopped briefly at her breasts and gave one, then the other, a soft, tender caress before continuing down her body. Gently parting her thighs, he nibbled over every inch of her mound. Sabrina had a distant, cloudy thought that the wax treatment she endured every other week was well worth the discomfort. The extreme pleasure of his lips, tongue, and teeth on her bare flesh drove her wild, shooting fire through her veins. His tongue penetrated her sheath and she groaned her approval. Arching upward, she gave herself over to the incredible sensations zinging through her body and settling deep within her center. When his mouth covered her clit and sucked gently, she zoomed up and then over into an explosive climax.
 

Shuddering with her release, Sabrina felt renewed from the inside out. Ian lingered over her, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible. When the last throbbing contraction subsided, he started with her again.
 

“Ian...please,” Sabrina groaned. “I need...”
 

“Shh, baby. I know.”
 

And showing her that he indeed did know, he lifted her until she lay on top of him. Straddling him, she looked into his beautiful face and saw everything she ever needed or wanted to see. Dark brown eyes gleamed with heat and desire but most of all love. His lightly tanned skin was flushed and his mouth held a deliciously sexy slant. That mouth…oh that mouth that gave infinite pleasure. Wavy, dark brown hair, tousled even more from her fingers, was adorably messy and sexy.

“Take what you need, love.”
 

Sabrina did exactly what he asked of her. Rising up on her knees, she held him in her hands and brought him to her. Sinking down slowly, she took one hard delicious inch of him at a time.
 

Ian ground his teeth until his jaw ached from the pressure. The minute Sabrina grabbed hold of him, he had stopped breathing. Now, as she brought him inside her heat, his heartbeat ceased along with his breathing. If a man could die this way, then he swore it was going to happen this very moment. Every ounce of his control was being used up. He wanted nothing more than to thrust deep and pound away until he exploded. That kind of roughness wasn’t what she wanted or needed. So he would give her exactly what she asked for and if he died, then he'd die inside the woman he loved. What more could a man ask?
 

Once she was fully seated and had taken him as far as she could, she sat down abruptly and he strangled on a groan. Holy hell, this was it. He was a goner. Then she rose up, graceful, slow, and began a beautiful, sexy, up and down ride. The sweet torture of her tight heat and grasping of her inner muscles was the best thing he'd ever felt in his life. The release he'd been holding off rose up swiftly.
 

She must've felt it because she whispered softly, “No…not yet” and rose up onto her knees.
 

Now only the tip of the head was inside her and Ian figured this was it…death would now occur. When she dropped back onto him fully, he couldn't prevent the curse that sprang from his mouth. Instead of being insulted, she gave a sultry, beautiful laugh.
 

Words ground from his clenched teeth. “You're a demon wrapped up in a beautiful package, Sabrina Wilde.”
 

“Your demon, Ian Mackenzie,” she whispered.
 

“Yes, mine. All mine.”
 

Now that she had him seated fully inside her again, he had hopes that she would finish them both off but no, she still wasn't finished with her torture. She glided up and down and just when he thought his head would blow off, she'd stop until they both had their control back.
 

Dammit, he wanted to give her what she needed, but he wasn't going to last much longer. He felt her inner muscles milking at him and he knew a strong climax was about to hit her. Wanting that to happen for them at the same time, Ian surged up abruptly and taking his fingers where they were joined together, he pinched the top of her clitoris and then let go.
 

The scream she released was uninhibited and loud enough to wake the neighbors, if he had any. With a harsh groan, Ian followed her into satiated oblivion.
 

Long minutes later, she was snuggled up in his arms. Their breathing had lessened from rasping to only slightly elevated. Ian held her close in one arm, while he kissed the back of her head, her neck, wherever he could reach.

At last, she spoke. “Cruz is dead.”
 

Ian jerked at the news. “What happened?”
 

She began with the bare facts, quickly glossing over the details of her almost sexual assault.

“Wait...back up.” Ian pushed her onto her back. Propped up on his elbow, he glared down at her. “You’re telling me Cruz handcuffed you and was going to make you go down on him? And that bastard cop was going to let him get away with that?”
 

“That bastard cop is dead, too.”
 

“Shit, Sabrina, what the hell did you stumble into?”
 

As succinctly as she could, she told him everything she remembered and concluded with what the man named Marsh had told her. “Whoever the boss is, he's a lot scarier than Cruz ever was.”
 

“We need to fix this. Call the Miami police.”
 

“And tell what to whom? We don't even know which ones of them we can trust.”

“We have to do something. Whoever this guy is, he’ll come after you.”
 

“No he won't.”
 

“How are you going to prevent it?”
 

Thankful she'd been smart enough to use one of her covers, she explained, “Walker really believed my name was Lilah Green. No one, including the Miami police department, knows who I am.”