A moment later, he held his cock in his hand and arrowed it into her warm, narrow cleft, gritting his teeth at the ecstasy of feeling her grip him like a velvet, milking fist.
“Let me in, Katie,” he demanded on an anguished moan. “I’ve waited for this for so damn long.”
A while later, they lay together on their sides on the bed, Katie nestled in the curve of his body, both of them drowsy, but highly aware of each other, tired, but unwilling to slide separately into the world of dreams.
“It’s a shame that stuff you told Marcus Stash about Fordham paying Amber Jones and those other girls to sleep with his customers was a lie. It’d be nice to be rid of the jerk,” Rill murmured.
“I thought you were the guy who didn’t care about this town or its occupants,” Katie said, turning in his arms to see his face.
Rill shrugged. “I was that guy.” He picked up one of her curls and squished it between his fingers before he brushed it against his chin thoughtfully. “Things change, though. I’m thinking I’ll go and have a talk with Olive Fanatoon about Food for Body and Soul.”
Katie twisted around farther in surprise. “Are you going to be the spokesperson for the charity, like she’s been asking you to be?”
“I’m thinking about it,” he murmured in such a nonchalant way that Katie knew he’d already decided to do just that. “I’ll be writing, and eventually directing again. I’ll be doing my share of traveling. But I want Vulture’s Canyon to be more than a base of operations. I want it to be a home. Our home. I don’t want to shut myself off from the town, like I had been doing.”
She shifted so that they were face-to-face and kissed him hard. “I’m so happy to hear you say you plan on working again. But why are you thinking about volunteering to be the spokesperson for Food for Body and Soul?”
“It’ll help out Vulture’s Canyon, won’t it?” he asked, as though the answer was obvious. “I want our baby to grow up in a nice town with some good values.”
“Hmmm,” she mused as she pressed her breasts against his chest and studied him. “In that case, I should tell you that I didn’t entirely make up what I told Marcus Stash about Miles Fordham.”
Rill lifted his eyebrows and stared at her with interest.
“I was actually planning to sell my Maserati, buy a pickup truck—it’d be great for hauling supplies up and down the hill—and using the leftover money to hire a private investigator to collect all the details of Fordham’s crimes.” She laughed softly when Rill’s expression turned incredulous. “Everything I said was true—the evidence is all there; I just didn’t have an opportunity to make copies or anything, like I claimed I did. I want Vulture’s Canyon to stay a nice town, too.”
She laughed harder when Rill grasped her shoulders and rolled until she was beneath him. The light from the hallway gleamed in his eyes as he looked down at her.
“How did this town ever survive without you? How did I?” Her laughter faded when she sensed his intensity. “You’re not selling that Maserati.”
“It doesn’t belong here, Rill. Not in Vulture’s Canyon.”
“It belongs, because you belong,” he said simply. “You can have a whole fleet of pickup trucks if you want them, but . . . don’t sell the Maserati. I think we can swing a private investigator without proceeds from its sale.”
“I . . . I don’t know. We can talk about it,” she whispered.
She was so focused on the image of Rill’s hungry eyes on her mouth and his lowering head, she didn’t know what else to say. In that moment, Katie, who had formerly lived in a backdrop of fantasy, facade and make-believe, saw her world coalesce into glorious reality.
Rill’s mouth seized hers in a quick, fierce kiss before he paused and spoke next to her lips.
“It’s going to be the healthiest thing I’ve ever done in my life, becoming addicted to you.”