She was desperate for him.
And, for however short of a time it might be, she had him. No interruptions. No distractions. Just Cale and her.
His mouth seduced. It caressed, it tempted. His fingers slid down her body, coming to rest right over the curve of her hips, and she could feel the heat of his touch scorching her right through her clothing.
Cassidy wanted all of their clothing gone. She wanted him.
Two lovers. In twenty-seven years, she’d had two lovers. One had been in college, when she’d enjoyed her brief taste of freedom. She’d thought she loved him.
She’d been wrong.
Lover number two had been another EOD agent. She’d thought the strength he offered was what she wanted.
She’d been wrong.
This need... Cale... Wanting him had nothing to do with strength. It had everything do with passion. With a consuming desire that grew stronger and stronger in her with his every touch.
And he was touching her. Pushing up her shirt and tossing it away. Then his fingers—those rough, calloused fingers—were sliding over her flesh, and Cassidy arched into his touch.
The killer after her—the fear—faded away.
Only Cale remained.
Only Cale.
He yanked off his own shirt. When she saw his bandage, a gasp broke from her. They had to be careful...they—
He lifted her into his arms, acting like he didn’t even feel the wound.
Okay, so maybe they didn’t need to be so careful.
Tough guy.
She loved that about him.
They kept kissing. He carried her, moving down the darkened hallway and entering the first bedroom on the right.
It was dark in there, too. But she liked the darkness. You could hide in the dark. Almost pretend that you were someone else.
She wanted to keep hiding and pretend that her reality wasn’t a lifetime of guards and secrets.
His fingers were at the snap of her jeans.
But he was hesitating.
Why?
“If you don’t want this,” Cale growled, his voice rough and wonderful in the dark, “tell me now.”
She smiled, but she knew he couldn’t see the movement in the darkness. Her hands rose again. Slid over the muscled expanse of his chest. The man’s abs... Wow. “I want you.”
He jerked open that snap. Slid down the zipper. She’d already kicked her shoes away while he was carrying her.
Cool air whispered over skin. No, that wasn’t just air. That was his breath. He’d bent, pressing his mouth over the curve of her stomach. And he was kissing her flesh. Caressing her so carefully.
Like she was something fragile to him, delicate.
She didn’t want delicacy. She wanted his passion. Every bit of it.