Savage Love (Savage Trilogy 3)

His head lifts, torment in his eyes. “What if I am a killer, Candace?”

That question tells me why I had that nightmare. It was my mind telling me how tormented Rick is over his past. It was my mind warning me that no matter what promises we’ve made to each other, his torment was, is, still a cross we must bear together. “Then I’m in love with a killer, but you’re not a killer.”

“You have no idea how many people I’ve killed.”

“I have a good idea.”

“You saw ten missions, Candace. I ran thousands.”

“I’m aware of that fact. I can do the math but what good does that do either of us?”

“It became who I was. It became all I was. Killing. It was a part of me.”

“It was your job.”

“It was a part of me,” he counters.

“You’re a part of me, Rick.”

I’ve barely spoken the words, and he’s pulling me into his lap. I settle on top of him, my legs straddling his hips, his hand sliding under my hair to my neck. His lips a breath from my lips. “You are a part of me, too. The good part of me.” His mouth closes down on mine, and he drinks me in, consumes me, owns me with that kiss. That’s the thing about Rick Savage. He consumes me inside and out, and while yes, it’s terrifying to have any one human have that much power over you, it’s also the best damn feeling I’ve ever known.

What follows is slow and sensual. Intense and raw. The way we touch. The way we both moan when he anchors me and lifts me and I slide down the hard length of his erection. The way our bodies move. The way we touch and kiss.

A long time later, we stand under the shower, and suds each other up, but we don’t speak, not with words. There’s a shift between us, a renewed intimacy. I can almost feel our bond secure, the locks that once bound us together, unite and settle into perfect, snug closure once again. I don’t know why, despite every talk we’ve had prior to this one, we needed what erupted between us this morning, but we did. In the aftermath, we’re closer for it. Stronger for it. It’s a good thing too because we have battles ahead of us. Starting with Saturday night. The night of my father’s extraction. The night Rick faces off with Tag. The last night I have to pretend to be Honest Gabe’s future wife.

CHAPTER TEN

Savage

Coffee, Candace and a hotel room.

It’s not Coffee, Candace, and home, but it’s a damn good second. We spend the hour after our shower, with both of us half-naked, sipping coffee and sharing a bathroom. Once she’s dressed in a black sweater and a snug pair of black jeans that hug her ass almost as well as I do, I’m left shirtless and in need of a shave.

For the first time in years, Candace sits down on the counter in front of me and lathers up my face. “Let’s see if I remember how to do this,” she teases, foaming me up, and I don’t miss the way her fingers linger over the scar on my face.

I catch her hand and kiss it. “It makes me more human,” I say solemnly. “It reminds me there are those you kill and those you save.”

“And that, Rick Savage, makes that scar dangerously sexy.”

“And therefore, you want to lick me all over.”

“Actually,” she says, “I do. If you survive this shave.” She holds up the razor. “Let’s test my skills. Like I said, I’m out of practice.”

She reaches for my face and I catch her wrist. “Because you never did this for Gabriel.”

She snorts. “He didn’t trust me with a blade.”

“Actually,” I say. “I don’t remember you being all that good with a blade.”

Her green eyes twinkle with mischief. “But you, Rick, loved to live dangerously then and now.”

I ease in close and nuzzle her neck, that natural scent of hers, mixed with the floral shampoo I’d grabbed from her shower, a heady mix that stirs memories in me, so damn many memories. “God, woman,” I murmur, leaning back to stare down at her, my gaze lingering on her recently glossed lips, before they lift. “If I kiss you right now—”

She presses her mouth to mine and hell yeah, I’ll take that invitation. I hold her close and kiss the hell out of her and when it’s done, she’s covered in shaving cream, and we’re both laughing. “Now I have to redo my make up,” she chides, and when I cup her backside, lifting her with the intent of carrying her straight to the bed, her long, perfect legs wrap around my waist. My damn cellphone rings and a second later, so does hers.

“Crap,” Candace murmurs. “What if that’s Gabriel and what if your team is warning us he’s up to something? I’m not home. I told him I’d be home.”