Colton's Killer Pursuit

The thought, once it occurred, brought relief. And a sense of rightness, too. Clarke wasn’t like Fritz. He wasn’t a man who thought only of himself. To the contrary, he made his living by thinking of others nonstop. Getting to know them, good or bad, figuring them out, so he could succeed in whatever mission he’d been given.

And his current mission was keeping her safe. Gentleman that he was, he wouldn’t have come to her door, seeking what she’d offered.

He wouldn’t push.

He’d let her do the seeking.

And the finding.

Or...change her mind without another word said.

Sitting up, she threw off the covers. Pulled on just the shirt of her pajamas to ward off the chill, but leaving it unbuttoned.

She opened her door quietly, snuck out into the hall. And down a couple of stairs, checking to see if the light was still on under the door of Clarke’s office. And when she saw that it wasn’t, she made her way quietly back up the stairs and down the hall toward his door.

It was shut, but not latched. As though he’d left it for her to push in if she so chose.

Everleigh wasn’t completely sure who she was as she pushed on that door. She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t feel the least bit shy. She might not recognize herself, but she knew for certain what she wanted.

She couldn’t hesitate. She was standing on the brink of what could be her only chance to know what it felt like to be fully alive.

She knew, a second after she pushed open the door, that he was still awake. It was like she could hear him stiffening. Her gaze sought his as she approached the bed. This was a onetime thing, but she realized the night probably wouldn’t end without more than just their bodies connecting.

She hadn’t been aware of that, but when it came to her, it seemed as though she’d known all along. Clarke Colton was a once-in-a-lifetime man. She didn’t just want his body. While she was with him, she wanted all of him.

And he was looking straight at her.

* * *

His worst nightmare and his greatest fantasy were coming at him all at once. Those long legs in his bedroom, walking toward him. The flannel shirt, unbuttoned, teasing him with glimpses of the luscious, unbound breasts...

He tried to swallow. Managed a gulp. Had to tell her to turn around and run. Couldn’t get enough air and moisture in his throat to make words come out.

Or didn’t have the brain waves to make it happen.

Either way, he lay there silently watching her approach, his body standing at attention, saluting her.

“It took me a while to figure out that you weren’t coming to me,” she said softly, wearing a smile that kicked him where it hurt the most. “I appreciate the consideration and hope I didn’t make you wait long...”

She was almost at the edge of the bed and he hadn’t lunged at her yet. If he could keep himself stiffly in place, tell her to go...he’d be home free.

Even as he had the thought, he knew full well that he was already home, and nothing was free.

She reached for the edge of the covers, was going to pull them back. He was strangling himself and couldn’t stop her. So...

He helped her. Holding up the covers while she slid those long legs beneath them. Next to his. Smooth skin to his rough.

And he knew he’d lost the battle.

* * *

Clarke’s lips met hers before Everleigh even had her butt on the mattress. Pulling her down to him, he settled her body against his and proceeded to wipe every thought from her mind except him. What he was doing to her. The touch of his skin beneath her hands. What was coming.

His hunger fired hers, consuming them both, and yet he was gentle. So, so gentle. Taking her on a slow path to ecstasy. She wasn’t even thinking about the culmination. Every touch of his hands and fingers, his lips, every movement she made on him... They were all the goal. And all filled with more physical excitement, more sensation than she’d ever known.

His tongue laved her nipple and she flooded down below. He kissed her neck, just below her ear, sending tingling sensations all the way through her.

She’d been well taught by Fritz how to please a man, but had never known that she could be physically moved while doing so. Just the roughness of Clarke’s chest hair against her palm made her shiver. His back...his tight butt...all of it drove her further and further into a state of need that had only one destination.