He grunted. The sound was strained. Reaching for her towel, she stood and then quickly wrapped the material around her. “Your turn,” she said, stepping over the ledge.
He caught her elbow to steady her. “You’re going to bed.”
She stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“Come on.” He led her to the vanity. “Brush your teeth or do whatever else you need to do. I’m tucking you in.”
She turned around, pressing her back against the counter. “I already brushed my teeth,” she countered, flashing him an exaggerated smile.
“Good.” His featherlight touch swept over her sore cheekbone. “You need to rest. To heal this and every other bruise that bastard gave you.”
Her smile wavered. “Well, he’s not coming back. The bruises will fade as quickly as his memory.”
Roarke’s eyes turned small and hard. He exhaled and pressed his knuckles onto the marble counter next to her hip. “I worry about Emmy. After everything she saw and went through ...” He dragged a slow, tired hand through his hair. “I killed her father, for god’s sake. She might hate me one day.”
Laine’s heart ached. “Do you want to know what she’s going to remember? That you saved her mother, Roarke.”
His lip hooked. “I guess we’ll see.”
She planted her hand on his chest, reveling in the solid strength beneath her palm. “I don’t know if I’ve said this yet ... but thank you.”
His eyes darkened. He covered her hand with his. “For what?”
She rolled in her lips. How could she summarize her gratitude? She couldn’t. “For coming for me in Iraq, for risking your life for us, for taking me home ...” Emotion caught her words, but if she didn’t say them now, she might never. “For loving me.”
He stroked her arm. “That’s something I can’t even control, babe. Couldn’t stop if I wanted to.” His voice was hoarse. Raw.
God, she wanted him. The orgasm in the bathtub hadn’t even touched the need pulsing through her. Reaching over, she clicked the bathroom lock into place then hopped onto the counter.
Gripping his shoulders, she pulled him to stand between her legs. Ever so gently, she brushed her hands beneath his T-shirt, savoring the hard, contoured lines of his abs.
Roarke’s eyes blazed with primal lust. He brought his hands to the outsides of her thighs, barely touching her. “Laine, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” She was as sure of that as she was her own name. She undid the towel tucked beneath her breasts, letting the material fall.
“Goddamn,” he groaned. He bent his head to kiss her neck, then trailed a wet path to her nipple.
Fresh desire kick-started her pulse. She reached for his shirt and helped him tug it over his head. Next, she reached for the waistband of his pants. In seconds, he was naked.
He gently sucked her neck. “Are you sure you’re not in too much pain for this?”
She toyed with the prickly strands of hair at the back of his neck. “No. I need you.” She fisted her hand around his cock and began pulling on the appendage.
A ragged groan met each thrust. “Honey, you’re killin’ me.”
She scootched to the edge of the counter and opened her legs wider. “Now, Roarke. Please.”
He guided his head to her opening and plunged deep. She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh. Her insides pulsed, eagerly receiving every plunge.
“You feel so good, Lainie,” he said against her ear.
She held him close. Her folds stretched, but pleasure accelerated her breath. Her back arched as he rocked into her. She held on and rode every delicious wave. Tucking her face close to his muscled shoulder, she inhaled his heady scent and everything that was Roarke.
Everything she needed, everything she’d missed, and everything she loved.
A cry broke free from her lips. She pressed her mouth to his skin to smother the noise. Her insides clenched, accentuating the pleasure and making him grunt. Her hips trembled and her muscles tightened as the second orgasm burst from her loins.
He pumped into her, and his body jerked and shuddered. Moments later he slowed to a stop.
