LITMIR.BIZ

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coming from her lips.

      “Garrett,” she finally pleaded. She didn’t tug her hands away, though. She wanted more. And he wanted to give her more than she’d dreamed of.

      Ever so slowly he explored each delectable inch of skin, first with his fingertips, then with his lips and finally with his tongue. When he reached her waist, tasting the sweetness just above her belly button, she sucked in her stomach. He flicked open the button of her jeans.

      Prolonging her pleasure, and his painful desire, he slid down the zipper and eased her pants over her hips. Simple white bikini panties hid her from his gaze.

      Garrett tugged at the elastic, swallowing. He throbbed against his zipper. He was going to lose control. He’d been determined to drive her mad, but he was losing his mind.

      And his heart.

      He rose to his knees and tugged at the elastic waist.

      She wrenched her hands from his grip and sat up. “I can’t take it anymore,” she said. She shoved her jeans and the small scrap of cloth down her legs, leaving her bare to his view.

      God, she was beautiful.

      Without hesitation she pushed against his zipper. His body surged.

      “I’m too close,” he said, his voice tight.

      “So am I,” she countered. “Make love to me, Garrett.”

      He gritted against the sensitivity of his body as he shucked off the rest of his clothes. He reached into the bedside table and grabbed a condom.

      Her legs parted for him and she pulled him to her. She didn’t play coy or hesitate. “Make love to me, Garrett. Now.”

      Unable to resist, with one thrust, he sank deep inside her.

      She was ready for him, welcoming, hot and needy. He lost himself in her. The past disappeared, the uncertainty.

      She cocooned him in her warmth. With each stroke, she sighed, and then the rhythm built, slowly at first, then stronger, faster, more intense.

      His heart raced; his body trembled. He wanted to feel her fall apart in his arms. She tightened around him and he couldn’t hold off. He thrust against her and his body pulsed in release. He sagged on top of her, the rhythmic quivering of her body gripping him.

      She’d fallen over the edge with him.

      For a moment he couldn’t move, letting his heart slow, feeling her heartbeat calm.

      “Wow,” she mumbled, stroking his hair.

      He moved off of her, disposed of the condom and spooned her. She felt so good, so right lying against him. He kissed her temple, wrapping one leg around hers, unwilling to let her escape from his embrace.

      “Yeah. Wow about covers it.”

      She wiggled her back end against him before settling down. She gripped one of his hands between hers.

      “I feel like a boneless jellyfish,” she said. “I never want to move from here.”

      He didn’t either. He stared at the wall, just listening to her breathe. In and out, soft and steady. He hadn’t planned this. But he couldn’t find it inside him to regret.

      That in itself made him wince. What had he done?

      He toyed with a small curl of hair against her cheek. She was so soft and yet so strong. And so smart. Her fingers had flown across that keyboard and he had seen her analyzing the problem, creating a solution and acting on it.

      More than that, she was brave. She hadn’t hesitated to protect Molly.

      “I can feel you thinking,” she said softly. She turned in his arms and looked at him. “What about? Regrets?”

      A hesitant expression had settled on her face. He kissed her nose. “No regrets, even though—”

      “Don’t,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to think about what’s happening. Not yet. Can’t we just be, with nothing between us? Just for a few minutes.”

      “Of course.” He wrapped his leg over her hip, pulling her against him, saying nothing.

      She played with the smattering of hair on his chest for a moment, then sighed. “But it won’t go away. They’re coming.”

      Her hands slowed then stilled. “Do you think Dad is okay?”

      “Do you want lies or truth?”

      “Truth.”

      He twirled a strand of her hair. “I don’t know. I’d have hoped he’d get word to me by now. Somehow.”

      “You’re worried.”

      “James has kept himself alive a long time.”

      “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Laurel asked, her voice laced with sadness.

      “Both, maybe.”

      She huddled into him and he wrapped his arms around her. She went quiet for several minutes, and Garrett wondered if she’d fallen asleep. He hoped so. She could use the rest.

      “How do we catch them, Garrett?” Her breath kissed his bare chest. “They haven’t made a mistake.”

      The despair in her words touched his very soul. More because he couldn’t guarantee anything. Not even her safety. All he knew was he’d do his damnedest to keep her and Molly alive.

      His arms gripped her tighter. “Actually, they have made a mistake. Your sister was killed because she identified evidence. Which means—”

      “They left a trail,” Laurel finished.

      “Once you find a way into that file, we could have the answer.” Garrett closed his eyes and stroked her hair. An answer to the revenge that had eaten away at his gut since he’d woken up from that coma with his life changed forever.

      Lisa and Ella might finally be able to rest in peace. Maybe he would, too. He moved away from Laurel. He unwrapped himself from her and sat on the side of the bed, his head in his hands.

      Laurel sucked in a breath from behind him. He’d forgotten about his back. He grabbed for his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t,” she whispered.

      The bed shifted and she moved behind him. She rubbed the base of his neck. He groaned, feeling the tension that had been sitting there for so long dissipate. Her hands drifted down, in and out of his ability to feel.

      Her touch caressed his lower back. “Can you feel me?” she asked.

      “Mmm-hmm.”

      She nipped at the back of his neck with her teeth. “How about now?”

      “Oh, yes.” He let his head fall forward while she explored.

      Her touch danced just beneath his shoulder blade. A sharp prick raced through him and he tensed.

      “Did I hurt you?” She yanked her hands away.

      “Don’t,” he said. “Just the nerves going crazy.”

      “How many surgeries did you have, Garrett?”

      “More than I can count. Skin grafts, shrapnel got embedded into my back. I was a mess.”

      Her fingers returned to his shoulder blade. “I guess that’s what happened here. There’s evidence of sutures. It’s strange—”

      A loud beeping sounded from Garrett’s phone. He jumped to his feet. “Get dressed. Someone’s broken the perimeter.”

       Chapter Eight

      Laurel rolled off the bed and yanked on her jeans, slipping on her shirt as she raced after

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