So her hands wrapped around his arms. She arched her hips against him. “Cale!”
His head lifted.
His eyes glittered in the darkness, blazing with need and lust. Then his hands were rising over her. He unhooked her bra and tossed it—heck, she didn’t even care where, right then.
She only cared about—
His mouth was on her breast. He licked, kissed, sucked, and her legs rose and locked around his hips. His arousal pressed against her. Long and hard and straining, and she didn’t want to wait. It had never been like this, the need a fire in her blood. She couldn’t catch her breath. She could only feel him. All along her body. She wanted him inside her. Was desperate to feel the thrust of his body into hers.
“Easy...” His whisper.
Forget easy. She wanted hard and fast and she wanted pleasure. Him. Now.
He reached around her, sliding his hand into the wallet he’d yanked from his pocket and pulling out—wait, what? Protection? Had to be. The guy was always so prepared.
Maybe too prepared. But the thought was fleeting. Vanishing quickly in the haze of need that surrounded her.
Then he was coming back to her, pulling down her panties. Ripping open that foil packet and, after just a moment, pushing his aroused flesh right against her.
His fingers threaded through hers. His hands pushed hers back against the mattress. His gaze held hers.
And he thrust into her.
One long, hard thrust that sent him deep into her core.
She cried out, lost in the intensity of the moment. Then he withdrew and thrust again, pushing his flesh right over the sensitive button of her desire.
Her legs tightened around his hips. She met him eagerly, thrust for thrust, and the bed rocked beneath them.
Every fear that she’d had vanished. There was no room for fear. There was no room for anything but the passion between them. The fierce movements of his body, the thrust and withdrawal of his flesh, again and again.
Harder.
Deeper.
Making her lose her mind.
Her body tightened. The pleasure was so close, just out of her reach, but every glide of his body, every thrust of his hips, and that pleasure seemed—
Cassidy cried out as the release hit her. Pleasure rocked through her body and she shuddered, caught up in the maelstrom of release as she’d never been before.
Cale’s hold on her hardened even more as he gritted out her name. His hips pushed down, he thrust deeper and she knew that he’d found his own release.
Their panting breath filled the air. She didn’t move. Didn’t want to. Cassidy wanted to go on holding Cale and feeling the pleasure pulse through her body in sweet aftershocks of release.
Killers. Dangers. She wasn’t ready to face the threats around her.
So she just wrapped her arms around Cale. She closed her eyes, and she let everything else vanish.
* * *
SYDNEY SLOAN—no, now Sydney Sloan-Ortez—knew the minute when her husband entered her office. She just felt him. The air shifted, and every nerve in her body went on high alert. That was generally her body’s instinctive response to Gunner.
Sydney looked up, her breath catching. And, sure enough, Gunner stood in the doorway.
Some people were afraid when they saw Gunner. He appeared hard and dangerous, and he’d sure gazed into hell more than his fair share of times.
But when Sydney looked at him, she never felt fear.