Page 77 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

But there were no recent transactions after he bought food at a restaurant not far from where his tractor was found.

“Thanks for this, Zeno. Really,” I said once we had an address and the lock pick set.

“Anytime,” he said. “Hopefully I’ll see you around at family dinner sometime.”

With that, we grabbed the umbrella and made our way out into the hallway in silence.

It was on the first landing of the stairwell that Gav dropped the umbrella, grabbed the back of my head, and slammed me back into the wall as his lips crashed to mine.

Sensation shot through my body, lighting up every nerve ending at once as the kiss demanded, as my body begged, as Gav’s free hand started to roam: over my shoulder, down to my breast, dragging a muffled moan out of me before continuing down over my belly, my ribs, my hip, thigh.

Then moving up under the fabric of my skirt.

“Gav,” I whispered, breaking the kiss as his fingers teased the outline of my panties where they met my leg. “What if someone starts up the stairs?”

His eyes blazed as his hand slid under my panties, his thumb going to my clit, and two fingers sliding inside me.

“Then you’d better come fast.”

His lips silenced my moan as his fingers began to work me. There was nothing slow or explorative. He worked me with expert precision—his thumb circling around my clit with the exact right amount of pressure, his fingers thrusting then curling and stroking—until I was writhing and whimpering and teetering right on the edge.

Then he sent me shooting over, swallowing my cries as I came.

I was still using the wall for support when the door at the ground level slammed shut, making my heart leap.

Gav pulled back, his gaze on me as he lazily slid his fingers out of my panties… and into his mouth.

I damn near came again just from that.

But then the footsteps drew closer and Gav stepped back to allow a woman carrying some sort of caddy to make her way past us.

“Okay,” Gav said once she was gone. “So I guess the question now is, what is going to make you less anxious: taking the train, the ferry, or driving your car over the bridge again?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Caitlin

While I still, after all these years, disliked the very necessary subway, I’d always been okay with trains. I guess because it wasn’t underground. But the train ride was even more enjoyable when Gav reached for my legs and draped them over his, keeping his hand planted on my knee the whole ride.

We slipped into a ride-share once we stopped in Jersey, then rode silently in the backseat until we reached a quiet little neighborhood full of starter homes with neat little front yards and mature trees.

“This is a nice place to live,” I said as the driver dropped us off outside of a little cape with sweet blue shutters and Black-eyed Susans still blooming in the front flowerbed.

“Yeah, if you like this much quiet.”

I glanced across the dandelion-free lawn, the weedless bed, the smudge-free glass.

“This place is loved,” I said. “He must be here more often than I thought.”

“Or he hired someone,” Gav reasoned. He held out a hand. “Coming?”

We made our way to the door.

I knocked, but Gav got right to work on the lock.

“Don’t look around,” Gav said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “We belong here. You’re family.”

With that, he turned the knob and led me inside.