Her Knight in Black Leather (14 page)

Without a word, she crossed the room and slid in beside him, pressed her body to his and claimed his lips. As the sheet floated over them, he rolled her onto her back, tucking her beneath him and settling between her thighs. His arousal throbbed against her core through the layers of clothing separating them, and she arched against him, sliding her hands down his back and into his boxers. The rightness of the moment flooded her every cell. Her soul flew, and she let it go, allowed herself to take pleasure in him.

He groaned low in her ear as his mouth left hers, trailing torturously slow along her jaw and down her neck, leaving her trembling beneath him. “God, you drive me crazy, Cat.”

“Michael … ” His name rolled off her tongue on a needy moan, all the coherence she was capable of. She needed to make him understand, to express everything in her heart, but the words simply wouldn’t come. She clutched his back, trying to show him this emotion that went beyond something she could understand.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispered the words against her skin, his voice a gravelly murmur filled with as much need as she felt, as he feathered kisses across her shoulder. He moved slowly down her body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His warm, velvet lips skimmed down her neck and between her breasts. He stopped for a moment to rake his teeth over each nipple through her nightshirt before moving down her stomach.

He kissed the skin below her belly button as his hands pushed her nightshirt up her body. She yanked it off over her head and his hands continued down, reaching for the waistband of her panties. He kissed his way down her legs, removing them, his teeth occasionally grazing her skin, ending with a final nip to her instep before he pulled her panties off and tossed them to the floor.

He left the bed long enough to rid himself of his underwear, then bent to pull a small square packet out of his jeans pocket. He stood over her, those eyes blazing back at her, making wicked promises, and sheathed himself. Just when she was sure she couldn’t stand the sweet tension any longer, he returned to her and covered her body with his.

“I’ll go slower next time, I promise.” He nibbled at her bottom lip, slipped his hands beneath her, and cupped the backs of her shoulders as he arched against her, burying himself to the hilt within her. “I need you too much.”

She gasped, a mixture of pleasure and relief rocketing through her. Her fingers curled into his skin and she arched against him, met him thrust for desperate thrust. She knew that need, the sweet, primal desire to join, to be as close as humanly possible, and then, wanting closer still. Her body shook with it, her need for him so fierce it frightened her.

He caught her mouth for a tender kiss. She clutched his back, locked her legs around his hips to hold him there, lifting to meet him. Their bodies surged together to the fiery rhythm, their hands clutching each other tightly, until they simply melded together as one. He took her soaring, lifted her to that fine, sweet edge so quickly all the breath left her lungs. Every time with him surprised her, how intensely her body responded to his. It had never been that way with Nick. As she toppled over the edge, a groan rumbled out of him, and he lifted his head and caught and held her gaze. An intimate connection, as if he’d climbed right into her skin and their souls mingled. Heaven help her, she never wanted this moment to end.

They crested together, his body shaking with hers, his heart, his pleasure, in his eyes. It left her feeling open and vulnerable. Yet the sensations only lifted her higher, shattering her amongst the heavens in a million white hot fragments, safe in the realization he was right there with her, free-floating together in bliss.

When their breathing finally returned to normal, he brushed a lingering kiss across her mouth then shifted off her.

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed her again and crawled out of bed.

Cat turned to watch him walk away, enjoying the rear view, the way the muscles in his behind flexed as he walked, while he made his way upstairs to the bathroom. He returned several minutes later and rejoined her, curling against her back, his embrace tight and possessive. She closed her eyes and fell asleep encompassed in his warmth, in the absolute rightness of lying in his arms.

• • •

Cat woke the next morning to bright sunlight piercing her closed eyelids, the smell of eggs frying, and freshly brewed coffee and toast teasing her senses. She glanced at the space beside her. Michael’s side was empty, but the telltale sounds coming from the kitchen told her where he’d gotten to.

Mixed emotions tumbled through her as she stared at the indentation his head left on the pillow. She couldn’t be sure if she was more disappointed at finding him gone and not having the pleasure of waking in his arms, or glad for the bit of reprieve the time away from him gave her.

Falling asleep in his embrace last night had been far too intimate, had filled with her an emotion she didn’t know what to do with. A man she’d known mere weeks didn’t feel like a stranger anymore but someone she’d known almost forever. Falling asleep that way felt as natural as breathing.

With a sigh, she pulled herself out of bed, forcing herself to face the day. Finding her discarded nightshirt and panties on the floor, she pulled them on before following the smells into the kitchen. Michael stood in front of the stove, wearing nothing but a faded pair of jeans, his upper body deliciously bare. He drew a spatula through the eggs sizzling in the pan.

It felt odd to see him there, looking so domestic. She’d seen it before, the morning after, but the sight still awed her. It went against the whole bad boy image she had of him, yet provided another intriguing facet of him. Another piece of the man behind the mask revealed.

“Morning.” He sprinkled one side of the eggs with a mixture of cheese and diced peppers, then flipped the omelet closed and darted a glance back at her. Tenderness shone in his eyes. A sense of intimacy flowed in the space between them that drew her farther into the small space.

She stopped beside him, peering around his shoulder at the dish in the pan. It wasn’t the food that made her hungry. She fisted her hands, squelching the near overwhelming desire to press herself against his back and wrap her arms around him. She felt … awkward, a bit out of place. She’d never had a fling before. As silly as it seemed, she had no idea if she could do that, press herself against his back and take what she wanted.

He lifted the small skillet with one hand and slipped the finished omelet onto a small white plate beside the stove. “You hungry?”

She nodded, offering him a smile. “Starving, actually.”

“Me, too. I’m not a breakfast person, but I somehow managed to work up an appetite this morning.” He winked at her, sending her stomach flip-flopping, and yet managed to set her at ease at the same time. He tucked a piece of toast onto each of the two plates before picking them up and handing them to her. “You take these. I’ll bring the coffee. How do you take yours?”

“Cream, please.” She carried the two plates into the attached dining room and set them onto the table.

Michael joined her moments later, two cups hooked in one hand, forks in the other. He set one mug and one fork in front of her before seating himself beside her at the small, round table. As with the rest of the house, the dining room was small and quaint, containing only the one table and four chairs. The windows lining the walls let in the morning sun, filling the room with its bright golden gleam. The glow it offered the room matched how she felt, sitting there with Michael — bright, blissful, and relaxed.

She took a bite of her eggs and sighed softly as the flavors melted on her tongue. The peppers were sautéed, the cheese melty and gooey, the eggs perfectly done. He wasn’t a novice in the kitchen by any stretch of the imagination.

“My compliments to the chef. Did your mother teach you to cook?”

He nodded, swallowed the bite in his mouth, then took a sip of his coffee. “Mom insisted Gabe and I learn how to take care of ourselves.”

“You cook very well.” She glanced at him as she forked another bite. “I have to admit I’m surprised.”

“The whole dark and dangerous thing?” He quirked an amused brow, the corners of his mouth twitching.

The man had a way of turning her insides to mush. “Something like that.”

Silence fell between them, his smile melting from his face. Intimacy filled the space between them, quiet and simple, yet profound. The scene was domestic and comfortable, like they’d done it every morning for years.

Their entire relationship had shifted, and she didn’t know what to do with it. She didn’t even know if she
wanted
to do something with it. She only knew he drew her into his world, a place she suddenly longed to be a part of.

He took another sip of his coffee before glancing at her. “I thought I’d give you a ride to the shop this morning, if that’s all right.”

Cat smiled, recalling his words the night before, that he intended to be her new shadow, and arched a brow. “Do I have a choice?”

He let out a soft laugh and forked a bite of his omelet. “No. Not really.” He winked. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, babe.”

The double entendre had a swell of tension rising over the room. His smile fell, and he dragged his gaze to his plate. She nodded and lifted her cup with shaky fingers. She was never going to survive living with him. He was already becoming far too important.

• • •

When they pulled up in front of the shop half an hour later, two sheriff cars sat parked at the curb. Unease settled in the pit of her stomach. What was law enforcement doing at the shop?

She turned her head toward to the bookshop. A gasp wrenched from her throat. She clamped a trembling hand over her suddenly pounding heart. “Oh, God.”

Someone had spray painted the words “I warned you, whore” on the front windows. The bright red paint dripped down the clear glass, giving the message an eerie resemblance to blood. The breakfast in her stomach curdled. Lisa’s bruised and swollen face flashed like a neon sign through her mind, and panic, swift and intense, gripped her chest in a vice.

“Dad!” She slid from the bike and raced into the shop, fear clawing at her. If something happened to him, she’d never forgive herself.

The glass on the front door had been broken. Stepping inside, the shock of the mess hit her. Books and papers littered the floor. The cash register lay on its side beyond the front counter. Looking toward the back of the shop, several book stacks had been pushed over and now lay like toppled dominos. Had her father been here when whoever did this broke in? Her heart leapt into her throat.

“Dad?” As she began stepping over the mess, heading for the back of the shop, one of the sheriff’s deputies poked his head around the only stack that hadn’t been toppled. She had gone to high school with him. One of the few boys who ever treated her with respect.

He offered a gentle smile and jerked his head in the direction of the back of the shop. “He’s fine. In the office with Sheriff Dewitt.”

She nodded, relieved, but the tension refused to release her chest. “Thanks.”

Her father’s head poked around the office doorway. Relief flooded his face. “Thank the Lord. Back here, sweetheart.”

She took off at a jog, leaping over piles of books in her way. As she entered the office, Sheriff Dewitt and another of his deputies stood beside her father. Both gave a polite nod in greeting as she entered. She turned to her father, wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight.

Her father hugged her in return before pulling back. Taking her by the shoulders, he set her away from him and looked her over. “Are you all right? Lisa’s mother called. I’ve been calling you all morning, but you haven’t answered. I take it you weren’t home when she was attacked?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. I haven’t checked my phone yet. No, I wasn’t home last night.” Heat climbed into her cheeks, the small room suddenly sweltering. Yet another conversation she didn’t want to have with her father. “When I saw the window, I was so worried. You weren’t here when it happened, were you?”

He offered a reassuring smile and shook his head. “No, sweetheart. Whoever did this set off the alarm. The sheriff and his boys got here first.” Something caught his attention, and his gaze shifted. Cat turned, following his gaze out the office door, toward the front of the shop. Michael made his way up the center aisle, carefully stepping over the mess.

Her father turned to the sheriff. “I suppose this is connected to those phone calls she’s been getting.”

Cat twisted her hands, the memory rising over her. “Because of the time I’ve been spending with Michael.” Tears flooded her eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” Michael reached her side, sliding his arm around her shoulders, drawing her protectively against his side.

It was an action her father didn’t miss. It occurred to her she ought to feel uncomfortable about the show, but the solid strength of Michael against her side felt too good to turn down. It made the shaking that had encompassed her the moment they pulled up out front finally cease. A sense of warmth and safety finally settled around her.

Her father’s gaze shifted to the sheriff. He shook his head, a worried frown marring his forehead. “This has to stop, Joe.”

“My men are dusting for fingerprints now.” The sheriff caught her eye, his expression soft and reassuring. “We’ll catch whoever did this. I’m putting extra patrols around your building as well as down here on Main Street. You don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure you and your family stay safe.”

“In the meantime,” Michael addressed her father, “she’ll be staying with me.”

Her father eyed Michael for a long moment, and Cat got the distinct impression Michael was being weighed and measured.

Something Michael apparently noticed as well, for he dropped his arms to his sides. “It’s my fault she’s in this mess. I won’t sleep not knowing whether or not she’s safe. She and I have discussed this, but I don’t mind telling you as well. She either stays with me or I camp out in her living room. Hell, I’ll camp out on her doorstep if I have to. One way or another, I’m not leaving her side until this over. Until I know she’s going to be safe.”