Run to Me (28 page)

A man of his word, Ethan plucked Shea from her chair and had her on the floor of the deck in seconds. He stripped her jeans and panties off, and between one breath and the next, his head was between her legs, his wicked tongue dancing and thrusting inside her.

“Ethan.” She’d meant it to be a scream, but it came out a sigh. Twining her fingers through his hair, legs wrapped around his shoulders, hips thrusting upward, she rode his tongue.

Her taste … how he loved it. Salty sweet, warm musk, and liquid sunshine, Shea’s sweetness and spirit spilled onto his tongue as she throbbed and spasmed in release. He loved how she tugged on his hair, thrust against his mouth, giving herself with an openness and sensuality that continually surprised him.

Sex with her had been good before, passionate and intense. He hadn’t been able to explain to her how this was better. He knew the answer, though he couldn’t give it. Their lovemaking was better now because of what they’d lost. The years that had passed, the pain of their separation, and the sheer hell of their experiences had deepened and intensified their sexual response to each other. Shea might not remember, but Ethan did.

With one last glide of his tongue, Ethan pulled away and sat up. With her beautiful face flushed with desire, her eyes glittering with need and that luscious mouth moist and plump, it was all he could do not to unzip his pants and plunge deep. Gritting his teeth against temptation, he stood and held out a hand to help her up. Her gaze moving from his face to groin, she shook her head slowly, telling him she had other ideas.

“Come on, babe. I don’t have any condoms with me, and I need to get to the store before it gets dark.”

With a graceful, languid movement, she went to her knees before him. When her hand rubbed his cock, Ethan growled, “Don’t tease me.”

“Who’s teasing? I’m very serious.” The rasp of his zipper being pulled down caused a throb of anticipation.

“Dammit, don’t.”

A soft hand caressed the thin cotton underwear covering the hard flesh. Without his permission, his hips surged forward. Taking this as acquiescence, she separated the cloth and soft, slender fingers wrapped around him and tugged. The gentle breeze of fresh air lasted only a second, until hot, moist breath bathed him with soft, sweet heat as her mouth closed over him. Eyes closed tight, he surged deep, going to her throat and then retreating. Shea’s little tongue swiped and licked as he withdrew. Unable to prevent himself or deny her, he surged deep again. She moaned, and the vibration of her mouth shot lightning through him, causing a small amount of release to enter her mouth. Another moan let him know she was thoroughly enjoying his taste.

Ethan gave up all attempts to stop the madness. Grasping her head with his hands, he held her as he moved back and forth. In recognition and appreciation of his surrender, the suction of her mouth tightened, pulled harder. Electricity zipped down his spine, and Ethan knew his release was imminent. He jerked out of her mouth.

Gazing up at him in confusion, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Words almost beyond him, he managed to grind between his teeth, “I’m about to come.”

“I want all of you, Ethan.” Her tongue swiped. “Every.” A long lick. “Last.” Her pink tongue swirled over the head of his cock, licked at the center. “Drop.” Her mouth closed around him again.

His heart almost exploded. Surging deep, holding her head, he plunged, retreated slightly, and then plunged deeper as his release burst forth, filling her sucking, hungry mouth.

Shudders rattled through him as he pulled away to stare down at the supremely satisfied woman still kneeling before him. Her lips were softly swollen, moist with his release. It took every ounce of willpower not to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her upstairs. There was nothing he’d like better than to spend the rest of the day and night inside that beautiful body.

He ignored his hardening shaft, tucked himself back inside his pants, and held out his hand. “Come on, minx, before I take you up on that invitation gleaming in your eyes.”

Shea rose with an artless grace that was so much a part of her natural femininity. Seemingly unembarrassed by her lack of clothing, she picked up her panties and jeans. With her back to him, she stepped into them and slid them up her body with a slow, erotic little shimmy. Her expression when she turned to face him told him she’d done it for his benefit. Judging from the smile on her face and her direct glance at his obvious arousal, she was pleased with the results.

He gave her advance warning: “Don’t expect to sleep any tonight.”

Eyes gleaming with anticipation and promise, she said, “I’m counting on it.”

“Come on, let’s go to the store and get back home.”

“Let me run upstairs and comb my hair. Oh, and if we have time, I want to stop at that nursery on the way back and pick up some stuff.”

“Like what?”

“That area on the right side of the house that’s bare … I want to plant some flowers there. Maybe some tulips and crocus, so in the spring, we’ll have some color. And then we can find other flowers so we’ll have blooms all through the summer and into the fall.”

A thud of dread slammed into him. This wasn’t the first time Shea had mentioned something in the future, but comparison of the color she brought to his dark life and the blooms she wanted to plant formed too vivid an image to deny. How he wished their time together didn’t have to end. Every day he railed at himself. It was his fault they’d become lovers. Now she was looking toward the future as if they had one.

“Ethan, what’s wrong?”

Turning away from her, he growled, “We’ll see. Let’s go.”

“You don’t like to talk about the future, do you?”

Hell, he did not want to get into an argument, especially about this. He turned back to her and dug deep for a relaxed smile. “Let’s enjoy what we have now. Until Rosemount’s caught, we—”

“Are you saying that’s all we’re waiting on, for Rosemount to be caught?”

“I’m just saying we don’t need to forget the real reason you’re here.”

“And when he’s no longer a threat, what?”

Whether he wanted the discussion or not, it was apparently going to take place. “Once he’s caught, you’ll want to go back to your life.”

“And that life doesn’t include you. Is that what you’re saying?”

“To put it bluntly, no, it doesn’t include me.”

“And this relationship we have … I’m just supposed to forget about it?”

“It would be better for you if you did.”

“Can you do that? Can you just forget about what we’ve shared?”

Unable to answer that without giving his torment away, he glanced at his watch. “We’ve got to get out of here. It’ll be dark in a couple of hours. There’s a storm coming later—I’d rather not get caught in it.”

Ethan felt her physical and mental retreat as she wrapped her arms around her waist and shook her head. “You go on. I’ll be fine here.”

He’d never left her alone, but he recognized her need for solitude. And he needed the time as well. Seeing the hurt on her face, and knowing he’d once again put it there, cut deep into the defenses that had become almost nonexistent against Shea.

“Fine. Keep the doors locked. Call me on my cellphone if anything comes up. I’ll try to hurry.”

She turned away, her shoulders hunched and defensive. Cursing himself for the bastard he’d always known he was, Ethan stalked away from her. Better that Shea go ahead and hate him now. That way, when she remembered everything, her disillusionment would be less devastating. Nausea roiled. Yeah, like that would make up for everything.

Sheets of rain slashed and beat at the window. Lightning flashed and despite herself, Shea couldn’t prevent the tensing of muscles as she prepared for the next thunderous boom. As a kid, she’d loved thunderstorms. The fury of nature often matched the bubbling anger she’d battled inside. Admiring the way Mother Nature exploded, lashing out in fury with such drama and force, Shea had often envied that ability. After the storm, the blessed peace that followed matched her longing for her own kind of peace.

The hot bath she’d taken had removed most of the chill from her bones, but she still felt like a restless spirit, searching for solidity. The argument with Ethan filled her with an aching uncertainty she hadn’t felt in weeks. Though she’d assured him that she wasn’t looking for a commitment, they’d grown so close and their passion was so fierce, she had allowed herself to believe in the possibility. How could he make love to her as if she were the most important thing in the universe and then tell her that nothing was permanent? Why couldn’t he admit his feelings? She refused to believe he didn’t have any.

Shea turned from the window and surveyed the room. Without Ethan, the house seemed empty and forlorn. She’d told him she needed time to herself, and she had, but the flicker of relief in his face had cut deep. It was obvious that he’d needed distance from her as well.

Thunder boomed with a powerful blow, and the entire house shook. Uneasy awareness swept through her. Ethan should have been home by now. The storm had most likely delayed him. She’d already tried calling his cellphone and had gotten no answer. Telling herself she was just a worrywart, Shea turned back to the window. Lightning flashed again. In the millisecond of bright light, separated only by glass, a man stood in front of her. Not Ethan.

She froze. Surely she’d been mistaken. At the next flash of lightning, he’d disappeared. She blew a relieved sigh. Just her imagination working overtime.

The lights flickered once, twice. Everything went pitch-black.

Shea dropped to her knees. She knew the house well enough to crawl to the door of Ethan’s office. He’d told her if she ever felt in danger, to get to his office and close and lock the door. It was made of some kind of bulletproof material, he’d said; only a tank could come through that door. Scampering on her hands and knees, Shea dove into the room and slammed the door shut.

The lights flickered again, and bright light flooded the room. She rushed to the closet and pulled down a gun. A .38 Smith & Wesson AirLight Ethan said belonged to her. She’d held it a few times since then and had recognized some sort of familiarity. The weapon felt comfortable in her hand.

The thunder had diminished. Now only a distant and occasional rumbling echoed through the mountains. The quiet aftermath seemed eerie and suspense-filled. Who had been standing at the window? Could Rosemount’s people have found her?

“Shea?”

She jerked at the sound of Ethan’s voice on the other side of the door. “Ethan?”

“Let me in.”

She pulled open the door. Ethan stood in front of her, a thunderous expression on his face. A soaked and dripping Gabe Maddox stood beside him.

“Gabe owes you an apology.”

“Sorry, Shea. I knocked and no one came to the door. I was looking in the window, and I guess that’s when you saw me.”

The aftermath of adrenaline rush left her limbs weak. Holding the gun at her side, she slumped against the wall. “The storm must have drowned out your knock.”

Ethan took the hand not holding the gun and kissed it. “You okay?”

Swallowing past dryness caused by fear, she nodded. “He just startled me.”

Ethan shot a glare at Gabe. “Why are you here?”

Gabe’s mouth quirked up. “Mind if we go into the kitchen and get a towel before we talk? I’m soaked.”

Giving him a long look, Ethan, still holding Shea’s hand, headed to the kitchen.

Opening a drawer at the kitchen counter, he pulled out a towel and threw it toward Gabe. Pulling Shea with him, he sat at the table and eyed his friend with an odd sort of cautious suspicion.

Gabe swiped at his face, then surveyed the room. “Looks a lot different than it did a few months back.”

Shea frowned. “What do you mean?”

Ethan shrugged, his eyes still on Gabe. “I got some new furniture before you came. Why are you here?”

With a sigh, Gabe dropped into a chair across from Ethan. “Setting a trap.”

An abrupt tensing of Ethan’s body told her something was up.

“Shit. You let him follow you?”

“Yeah. Had to go slow, though. Turns out he’s pretty lousy at tracking.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Ten minutes, a little less.”

“Is he alone?”

“Yeah, he’s arrogant and stupid.” Gabe’s mouth tilted into a small smile. “Despite Jamie’s opinion, I’m neither.”

Shea felt slow and uninformed, two things she hated. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Tell her, Gabe. You’re the one who set her up for bait. You explain.”

Gabe lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “She’s not in any real danger.” He glanced at Shea. “We’ve known for some time, since the woman attacked you in the clinic, that we’ve had a mole at LCR. We narrowed it down to a handful of people. One in particular seemed the most likely, and if he comes through that door in the next few minutes, we’ll know we were right.”

Gabe’s casual attitude about her life infuriated her. “So what are we going to do—see if he shoots me and then you’ll know?”

“Nothing so dramatic.”

“Well, then what?”

Ethan shrugged, and Shea had the urge to shoot the next man who shrugged at her as if this was no big deal. “We’ll play him … see where he leads.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he growled, “He’ll never have a chance to hurt you.”

“You guys have done this before, haven’t you?”

“A time or two. Never with an LCR operative though. Should be interesting,” Ethan said.

Shea pulled away from Ethan’s arm. “Your idea of interesting and mine are a bit different. I’m going to bed.”

“No.”

Anger flared, which felt a hell of a lot better than the fear that had been surging for the last half hour. “Excuse me?”

The chuckle he gave told her he wasn’t one bit put off by her anger. “We need your help.”

“How?”

“Remember I told you that you used to be one of our best interrogators? Well, here’s an opportunity to sharpen your skills.”

“Ethan, I don’t even remember that I had those skills. How am I supposed to know—”