His brother wasn't home. Either he was out on another score, or he'd gotten spooked and run for the hills.
Either way, we'd disrupted their operation and eliminated half the threat. Not perfect, but I'll take the victory.
But none of that matters now. Not when I've been thinking about Lucy for hours, about the way she looked when I left this morning. Sleep-mussed and beautiful in my kitchen, worry already creeping into those dark eyes.
The memory of our kiss replays in my head on constant loop, the taste of her still lingering despite everything that's happened since.
She told me about Colt. That they'd kissed, that she felt guilty letting me kiss her without my knowing.
The honesty in her confession should have bothered me more than it did. Should have triggered the possessiveness that's been my downfall before, the need to own completely or walk away entirely.
Instead, it made me want her more. Made me want to understand how this could work. How three men could share one woman without destroying each other in the process. How we could all protect her together, give her everything she needs instead of making her choose between pieces of her heart.
The rain picks up as I turn onto my road, drumming harder against the roof and turning the Montana night into something wild and primal. My headlights sweep across my driveway, and my pulse quickens at the thought of Lucy waiting for me, safe and warm in my house.
Then I see her.
She's running toward my car barefoot, wearing nothing but tiny sleep shorts and a thin t-shirt that's already soaked through from the rain. Her hair streams behind her, dark and wild, her bare feet flying across the gravel like the only thing that matters in the universe is getting to me.
I slam on the brakes and throw the car into park, my heart hammering against my ribs as I vault out of the driver's seat. "Lucy, what the hell are you—"
She launches herself at me before I can finish the sentence, her arms wrapping around my neck as her legs circle my waist. The impact drives me back against the car door, and then her mouth is on mine, desperate and demanding and so fucking perfect I forget how to think.
Rain soaks through my uniform shirt, plastering her thin cotton to skin that's warm despite the cold. She tastes like need and relief, and when she nips at my lower lip, I groan into her mouth.
"Are you okay?" she gasps against my lips, pulling back just enough to search my face with frantic eyes. Her hands frame my face, thumbs tracing the bruise blooming along my jaw with infinite gentleness. "Are you hurt? When you didn't come home..."
"I'm fine," I manage, but my voice comes out rough and broken. "Lucy, sweetheart, you're soaked. You'll catch pneumonia out here."
She silences me with her mouth, kissing me harder, fiercer, like she's been starving for it. Her tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming me, and I can feel her heart racing against my chest, feel the heat of her pressed against my rapidly hardening cock through our wet clothes.
"I was so scared," she whispers between kisses, her voice breaking with raw emotion. "When you didn't come home, when the hours kept passing, I thought they'd hurt you. I thought I'd lost you before I could tell you..."
"Tell me what?" I growl, my hands sliding down to grip her ass, pulling her harder against the rigid length of me.
"That I need you," she breathes, her hips moving restlessly against mine. "That I couldn't stop thinking about you."
Control. I've built my life on control, on discipline, on doing the right thing at the right time in the right way. But this woman in my arms is unraveling every carefully constructed wall I've built.
"You've been driving me out of my mind," I tell her, my mouth moving to the sensitive spot below her ear. "Every night, knowing you're in my house, wanting to take you to my bed and show you exactly what you do to me."
Her response is to wrap her legs tighter around my waist, pressing her core against the hard ridge of my cock through my uniform pants. The friction sends lightning throughmy veins, and I bite down on the sensitive spot where her neck meets her shoulder.
"Please," she gasps, and the single word shatters what's left of my restraint. "I need you, Gabriel. I need this."
That's it. I'm done pretending to be civilized.
I reach down with urgent hands to unbuckle my utility belt, letting the leather drop to the wet ground with a heavy thud.
The sound of metal and gear hitting the ground should probably worry me, but all I can focus on is the woman in my arms.
I spin us around, pressing her back against the warm hood of the patrol car. The metal is slick with rain, heated by the engine underneath, and she arches into me with a cry that's pure want.
I pull back to look at her, rain dripping from my hair onto her upturned face. The headlights cast us in stark relief, turning her skin luminous in the darkness.
Her eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide with need. She whispers fiercely. "Take me. Right here. Now!"
The words hit me like a physical blow. This beautiful woman, trusting me enough to be vulnerable like this, to give herself to me completely without reservation.
