Midnight Sins (67 page)

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Authors: Lora Leigh

Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense Fiction, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Murder, #Crime, #Erotica, #Ranchers

BOOK: Midnight Sins
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When he pulled back to stare up at her, it was to

see the storm raging in her gaze and in her emotions

as she watched him.

“What makes you think you could have changed

any of the decisions I’ve made?” she asked him then.

“It wasn’t your choice, Rafe. It was mine.”

If that was what she wanted to believe, then that

was fine. He’d let her run scared, thinking she needed

to realize things on her own, to live, to be certain of

the future she wanted. He had never imagined that

she would have seen it as his disinterest.

The fact that she hadn’t told him about their child

proved that was exactly how she had seen it.

“I let you run,” he told her firmly. “I knew you were

avoiding me. Just as I knew you were no longer letting

your friends know your schedule when you came

home from school.”

Awareness flickered in her gaze then. “It wasn’t a

coincidence that you were always there.”

“You’ve always said you don’t believe in

coincidence,” he reminded her. “I thought you would

have figured it out.”

“You always knew when I was coming home and

when and where to meet me,” she whispered.

“I’m smart like that,” he agreed. “Then you

stopped informing your friends of your schedule or

posting it to the Web journal you kept. You started

avoiding me. I should have put a stop to it then. I

would have, if I’d even considered the possibility that

we would fall in that one percentile where the pill you

were taking would fail.”

“I had the dosage increased when I heard you

were back in town,” she admitted as he looked at her

again. “I think I knew I couldn’t stay away from you.”

“I wouldn’t have allowed you to stay away from

me.”

He’d been growing tired of waiting for her. If she

hadn’t shown up during that blizzard, then he would

have shown up on her doorstep afterward, and he

knew it.

Directing the spray at her thighs, he gently rinsed

the soap from her flesh as he parted the delicate folds

and watched as streams of water ribboned over her

belly where he directed the spray, between her thighs,

over the silken folds of her pussy.

Lather washed over her thighs, along her legs,

and to the shower floor below. The thick suds

caressed her flesh and were washed away as the

scent of sweet almonds filled the air. He’d never

thought almonds could be so damned sexy.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I’m not finished yet,” he told her, and he wasn’t.

“Do you think a quickie in the shower is enough for

me? Was it enough for you?”

It wasn’t enough for her. He could see the

embers of need still glowing in her eyes and in the

response of her body.

Tonight was theirs.

Tonight he would make up for everything he’d

never been able to have with her. It was for all the

nights they had been apart. It was for all the regret that

had filled them both for so long.

It was for all the nights she had slipped out before

dawn, all the nights he hadn’t been certain if she was

adventurous enough, experienced enough, for the

hungers that swirled inside him. It was for all the years

they had been apart whenever he had longed to touch

her. Whenever she wasn’t in the room with him.

Whenever he thought about her. Ached for her.

Dreamed of her.

Hell, for all the nights he simply hungered for her,

and those hungers were often darker, more sexual

and erotic, than he’d shown her thus far.

“Could it ever be enough then?” Confusion

darkened her eyes as he watched her face flush in

response to the stream of spray he directed over the

soft pink bud of her clit.

“I doubt it, but we’ll find out, love,” he agreed,

running his fingers over the soft pad of flesh. “We

have a few things to clear up here, and tomorrow we’ll

talk, and we’ll clear up the rest.”

He directed the spray to her clit again, teasing

her with the pulse of the water pounding around it. He

was rewarded by the quick, sharp intake of breath

and the response flaring in her gaze as he glanced up

at her.

“What do we need to clear up?” Her legs parted

farther, just a fraction. It was an unconscious shift, a

need rising inside her to get closer to the pleasure

that was as much subconscious as it was conscious.

A primal, instinctive need to get closer to the ecstasy

each touch promised.

Rafe couldn’t blame her. He could feel it himself.

It was the reason why no other woman would do. Why

he would wait six months, a year, for sex with Cami

rather than taking another woman.

After that first time, it had nothing to do with the

sex act or just the physical sensations. It was about a

pleasure that went so much deeper than flesh and a

release that burned hotter, burned deeper, than

simply emptying his tight balls. It was something that

couldn’t be found anywhere but with Cami.

Her pleasure was his. Touching her, stroking her,

was as exciting to him as it was to her. He could

spend hours just touching her, just making
her
come.

Hell, he could come with her without even being inside

her, and that was something that had never happened

with another woman.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered as he

bent forward, laying a kiss against the gentle rise of

her mound at the crease of her thigh. “Why like this?”

She indicated him kneeling in front of her, touching

her, just because he could.

“Because I love touching you.” Rising, he

replaced the shower head before kneeling in front of

her again. “Because I’ve spent too many nights

wondering what it would be like, Cami. And regretting

the fact that you always slipped out before I could.”

The heated water washed over them, keeping

her warm as he let his hands cup the rise of her

buttocks and clench gently.

Her breath caught in another sharp intake that

signaled her pleasure rising. His fingers eased

between her thighs then, finding the soft fall of her

juices beginning to build there.

Slick feminine heat met his touch as her lashes

fluttered in surrender and in acceptance of whatever

touch, whatever hunger, he gave her.

He chose that moment to move.

Straightening, he quickly turned off the steamy

water before jerking a towel from the heated rack he’d

turned on earlier and wrapping it quickly around her.

Picking her up in his arms, he was surprised there

were no objections as her arms looped around his

shoulders.

She was staring at him suspiciously, perhaps

uncertainly. She didn’t know what to expect, but he

knew what she sensed. She had to sense the intent

rising inside him. The certainty that after tonight the

rules would definitely change between them. If they

didn’t, then he might have to just lock her in his

bedroom and keep her fucked into submission.

“So many secrets,” he said as he laid her in the

bed, took the extra towel he had grapped, and

hurriedly dried himself. “I should have known you were

hiding from me, Cami.”

Then he returned his touch to the lover he should

have fully claimed long before now. If he had, then

there would have been no secrets between them.

“I should have never given you the time I thought

you needed to be free,” he told her as he used her

towel to dry her gently from head to toe. “You’ve never

been free, have you, Cami?”

Her tongue licked over her lips in a charming,

nervous little gesture. “Whenever I was with you. I was

always free with you, Rafe. I was always me.”

Until she had lost their child. Until there were

secrets she had to protect.

Allowing her freedom had been the point of

staying away from her, though. He had believed that

to be free she needed to be away from him. That his

possessiveness, his dominance, would restrict her,

would bind her to him rather than allowing her to be

certain what she wanted.

The truth was, even with the possessiveness, she

would have at least had someone to hold on to.

Someone who loved Cami just for herself, just for the

compassion, the kindness, and the laughter she gave.

Those were gifts she never expected payment for.

She hadn’t even asked for the same compassion and

kindness, let alone the laughter. And it was a good

thing, because she damned sure hadn’t had it.

Tossing the towel aside, he came over her, his

lips covering hers as she met his kiss with a soft,

whimpering little sigh.

He loved the sounds she made as she loved his

touch, reached for it, pleaded for more. There was

something more exciting, something more intense,

about loving Cami than there had ever been with any

other woman.

The pleasure was sharper, more intense, and

more heated than anything he had ever known before.

As her fingers speared through his hair, gripping

the thick strands, Rafe could feel her giving herself up

to each sensation, allowing it to immerse her, to

swamp her with the ecstasy.

She gave herself to him, completely, and he

loved every second of it. There were no pretenses, no

simulated moans, arches, or faked responses.

It was all completely natural, completely Cami. It

was a woman reaching for the pleasure she was

owed, willing to pay any price for it but, even more,

willing to love in return for it.

As she arched to him, her thighs spreading as he

came between them, Rafe let his lips wander from

hers, to her jaw, to the sensitive flesh beneath and

then along the side of her neck. She tilted her head in

response, allowing him access to even the most

tender skin just below her ear and shuddering with

pleasure as he kissed it gently.

Kittenish little sighs and rumbling moans met

each caress, assuring him he was drawing her

deeper and deeper into the pleasure he wanted to

create for her.

He wanted her completely immersed in his touch,

reaching eagerly for the rising rapture beginning to

spread around her. Through her.

With his lips, his tongue, the rasp of his teeth

over her nipples, the feel of them against his tongue,

he pushed her higher. His lips surrounded one tight

peak, drawing it inside and working the engorged,

sensitive tip against his tongue as he pleasured the

other with his fingers.

Her nails bit into his shoulders as she fought to

hold on to him. Hips lifting, her mound pressing

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