Her eyes widened. “I—” She dissolved into a gasp as he plucked her clit. Sensations bombarded her—too many all at once. She bucked against him.
And he kept her perfectly in place.
She started to protest, and his hold around her neck tightened just enough for her to realize her position. Even her air depended on him. The thought should scare her, but mini explosions rocked her core.
“I see you’re getting it.” His warm breath brushed her ear right before he bit down on her lobe.
She gasped again, leaning into him, wanting more. He was everywhere, and she couldn’t think. So she just stopped thinking to feel, relaxing into his hold.
“There you go,” he rumbled, kissing her ear.
Holding her tight, not letting her move, he started to thrust. Deep and hard, keeping her back arched, he pounded into her. The first orgasm barreled through her, and she shut her eyes, crying out his name.
Yet he didn’t stop. If anything, he hammered harder, taking her, taking everything. Sparks uncoiled inside her. Heat flashed through her, driving her high, so close to the edge of a cliff. Need cut sharp. She opened her eyes, not understanding. Minutes passed, maybe hours, and he slid his fingers against her clit again. She gyrated against him, holding her breath, detonating into a million pieces.
With a garbled whimper, she settled down, realizing seconds later that he wasn’t done.
“You want me?” he asked. “You’re gonna take all of me. We’re just getting started.”
CHAPTER
32
Heath kept his back to the door and his gun in his hand. The only way into Ryker’s reinforced bedroom was through him, and that wasn’t gonna happen. Even the window had been outfitted for protection.
He’d faced danger, and he’d defied death. But with Anya counting on him, with her needing him, his concentration held a sharp edge. A new one. He shut his eyes and listened.
Two heartbeats behind him and two downstairs.
Midnight had come and gone. With dawn’s approach, he didn’t feel danger near. The sense of air changing or the presence of somebody who shouldn’t be there was definitely absent.
But the morning was young yet.
He tried to banish thoughts of Anya from his mind and focus, but he couldn’t. He’d been way too rough with her, and there was no excuse. Yet she’d sighed his name and had been right with him until they’d gotten dressed and she’d taken position with Zara in the bedroom. She truly was stronger than he’d given her credit for. Damn, he wanted to be back in bed with her, and now.
It had to be about seven in the morning. He drew Anya’s phone out of his back pocket, checked the callers, and dialed Special Agent Reese.
“Yeah?” Reese answered, sounding fully alert. “Anya?”
“No. It’s Heath. Are you still watching the agency?” Heath asked.
“Affirmative. No movement out here. I don’t think he’s coming for her.” Reese sounded relieved.
“Agreed. He’ll see there’s no way to get her, so he might get sloppy. Maybe make a mistake. Do you have that covered?”
“Of course,” Reese said evenly. “We have agents on the families of law enforcement personnel within a two-hundred-mile radius of Snowville. If the guy is here, and if he has a backup plan for another victim, we’ll get him.”
That’s what Heath had been counting on. “Good. Keep surveillance on us.”
“I plan on it, but you need to do the right thing for Anya. Convince her to go into protective custody with us. We’re the best.”
Not in a million years. They’d let Loretta die, and the image of her lifeless eyes would never completely leave him. “I can keep her safe. Trust me.” Heath clicked off, shaking his head. Those were words he’d never planned to say to a cop. But they’d ride out the day and then get out of town and off everybody’s radar. Whether Anya liked it or not.
He’d give her this day to participate, and then she was done. Of course, he’d made it so there was really no way for the killer to get to her.
Movement sounded, and the door unlocked. He slid to the side so Anya could tiptoe out. She was still in the jeans and sweater she’d worn when they’d taken positions at midnight, and her hair was back in a spunky ponytail. After shutting the door, she settled against the wall. He studied her. Whisker burn on her cheeks and maybe a slight bruise on her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She turned toward him. “One should never apologize for amazing sex.” Her voice was low and soft with a hint of amusement.
