When they reached the third floor she started toward the bedroom she’d used, his old bedroom, and then stopped, and he saw her absently rub her arm, the arm he’d hurt when she’d last been in the room.
“Not there,” he said, moving her to the other side of the hall. The room he’d taken over was small, unfinished, and the only piece of furniture was the king-sized bed that fit his tall frame the best. She stood just inside the door, not even looking around her.
“You can spend the night here,” he said gruffly. “I’ll take my old room.”
She said nothing. Her face was unnaturally pale, and he could see the streaks of her earlier tears, though now her warm brown eyes were flat and expressionless. She’d get over most of it, he told himself. A good night’s sleep in a decent bed and she’d be ready to move on.
He was almost out the door when she spoke. “Are you going to kill my brother?”
He stopped, not turning to look at her. “If I have to. I don’t think it will be up to me. We already dumped the evidence from the phone, and the FBI will have a warrant out for him if he’s fool enough to return to this country. Otherwise someone will find him overseas.”
“And kill him,” she said dully.
“And kill him.”
She lifted her head. “Could you stop them?”
“Not even if I wanted to.”
She nodded, as if she expected nothing less, and he took a step toward her, his frustration boiling over. “Look, you can hate me all you want. The fact of the matter is your brother is a vicious criminal who’s victimized women and children, and he deserves anything he gets, just as Soledad did. Don’t waste your sorrow on monsters like them—save a little for their victims and the ones who died because of them.”
“I’m not mourning Soledad and Billy,” she said in a voice so soft he almost couldn’t hear it.
“Then what are you mourning?”
“Loss,” she said, turning her back on him and walking to the window. “The loss of my brother, loss of innocence, loss in the belief that I knew what I was doing. You.”
“What about me?”
She kept her face averted, her back straight. “I’m mourning the loss of you.”
He moved so fast Jenny wasn’t prepared, spinning her around and pushing her up against the wall with none of his usual tenderness. He caught her face in his hands and kissed her, open-mouthed and carnal, rough when he’d been sweet, and she felt her whole body come alive again, the blood surging through her veins, her heart pumping. She put her arms around his waist, pulling him against her, and she could feel he was hard, aching for her. She closed her eyes as feeling washed over her, need and sorrow and pure longing so hard and powerful she thought she might explode from it.
He slid his hands down, caught the T-shirt and ripped it in half, the stretchy cotton shredding beneath his grip, and she caught her breath, shocked. He put his arms around her hips and lifted her up so that her breasts were at the level of his face, and he put his mouth on one and sucked, hard, using his teeth, as a shaft of white-hot longing went straight between her legs to the very center of her being. She wanted him there, needed him there, and she panted as he pulled her legs around his hips, her sex pressed against the hard rod of his erection, too many layers of clothes between them as he moved to her other breast, taking it in his mouth with a roughness that made her whimper in longing and need. A moment later he pulled away, and she went flying throu
gh the air, ending on her back on the huge bed, staring up at him in shock as he ripped off his clothes, then crouched over her like a predatory beast. “I don’t care if you’re afraid of me,” he growled. “I don’t care if you’ve been hurt. All I care about is fucking you as hard as you can take it. I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll feel like you’ve died and gone to hell. I’m going to fuck you so hard that no one will ever come close. You’ll never get me out of your mind, out of your body.”
She stared at him out of wide eyes. “You said I fuck like a virgin,” she said.
“I said a lot of things, and most of them were lies. There’s only one truth between you and me, and that’s sex. Take off your pants, or I swear to God I’ll rip them off you.”
She reached down for the zipper, shucking out of them quickly, staring up into his wild wolf’s eyes. He put his hand between her legs, and she knew she was wet with longing, and she arched up as he slid a finger into her, then two, and she shattered so quickly, so unexpectedly that she cried out.
And then he was lying on top of her, stretched over her, kissing her, his cock pressed between them, and she reached down to touch him, marveling at the feel of him. The skin was silky smooth around the iron-hard erection, and she let her fingertips trace the veins, the size of him.
He kissed her mouth, slowly, deliberately, his tongue making lazy swirls inside her mouth, his teeth biting down on her lower lip, his hand sliding down her stomach to touch her once more, and she could feel the excitement building almost instantly, and she wanted him, so, so badly.
“I need you,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I need you inside me.”
“Then take me in your mouth.”
She should have been shocked at his words. Instead, they sent a thrill of forbidden desire through her at the very thought, and she pushed at him until he rolled onto his back.
He was beautiful, that part of him that was so unfamiliar to her. She reached out her tongue and ran it over the top, tasting the sticky, sweet fluid, and then she put her mouth over him, taking him inside her, sucking on him with a fierce delight. She wanted this, she wanted him, she wanted him to come in her mouth, she wanted him around her and over her and inside her. The feel of him inside her mouth was strange and hypnotic, and she moved up and down on him, trying to take more and more of him inside her, but he was too big, and she was going to choke and she didn’t care, she needed all of him.
And then he plucked her off him, pulling her free, and she cried out in protest. “No!” she said. “I want more . . .”
“I’ll give you more,” he said, and flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up to meet his as she felt the broad head of his cock at her slick entrance. He began to push inside, and the sensation was so powerful she began to contract around him, but he just kept pushing, so deep, so deep she could almost taste him, and she slammed her head down on the mattress, holding on as he pounded into her, each thrust pushing her further, until he reached between her legs and caught her clitoris between his fingers, pinching lightly, and she screamed as her body was flooded with sensation, and she was lost in it, drowning in it, dying in it.