He picks up the pace, and I wrap my legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. The pleasure builds again—impossibly, overwhelmingly—and I'm right on the edge. A third orgasm might just kill me.
“Come for me,” he commands, bringing his hand between our bodies and rubbing at my clit. “Now, Madison.”
I shatter, screaming his name into the room. He follows seconds later, groaning as he pulses inside me.
We stay locked together for a long moment, both breathing hard. Then he pulls out carefully and disposes of the condom before returning to gather me into his arms.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
I nod against his chest, completely boneless. “More than okay.”
“Good. He presses a kiss to my forehead. Because we're just getting started.”
The promise in those words makes me shiver. “That sounds like a promise.”
“It is.”
Later, after we've showered and he's made us dinner, we curl up on the couch together. I'm wearing his shirt and nothing else, and his hand rests possessively on my thigh.
“This is my favorite version of you,” he says.
“Half-naked and freshly ravished?”
“Content. Safe. Mine.”
I smile against his chest. “I am now, you know. Yours.”
“I know. And I'm never letting you go.”
CHAPTER 8
The call comes at three in the morning.
I'm at the cabin with Ty, curled against his chest in the darkness, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. We fell asleep after another round of him taking me apart and putting me back together, slower this time, sweeter, with his hand wrapped around my throat and my name on his lips as he orgasms. Our weekends are now a mixture of little time and sexy time, and I can’t honestly decide which I like more.
When his phone buzzes on the nightstand, he's awake instantly. That's the thing about Ty, he doesn't ease into consciousness. He just switches on, fully alert, already moving. I don’t know how he does it. I am slow to revive in the mornings. I need coffee and a mental push to get going.
“Garcia,” he answers, voice low.
I feel him go tense. Feel the shift in his breathing, the way his free hand tightens on my hip. I’m awake now, with or without the coffee. If someone is calling at three am, it has to be urgent.
“When?” he asks. “How much did she capture?”
My stomach drops. She and capture are major context clues. Maybe it’s not me… but maybe? Could they be discussing me?
He listens for another minute, jaw tightening with each passing second. “I'll handle it.”
He ends the call and immediately pulls me closer, like he's anchoring himself. Or maybe anchoring me.
“What's wrong?” I whisper.
He's quiet for a beat too long. “Remember that video you took? The one I had you delete?”
My heart starts pounding. “Yeah.”
“Turns out you caught something in the background. License plate, partial. Enough to confirm a timeline we've been tracking. Someone must have known about you. I don’t know if they saw your plates, but your cloud has been hacked.”
I sit up, pulling the sheet with me. “But I deleted it.”
