Max shook his head. “The doctor was a necessity.” A tool. “She was too old to satisfy him in any other way—in his mind, she was probably happy to die once she’d outlived her purpose.”
The other cop shook his head in angry disbelief. “What do you need from us?”
“Any confirmed or credible sightings—send the details to me as soon as you get them. Even a general direction will help me narrow down possible sites. With the amount of money he has at this disposal”—and Max knew there were Bonner family members who still believed in the innocence of their blue-eyed boy—“he could go anywhere.”
“We’ve got the airports covered.”
“Good. He might try to fly domestic”—especially if his fixation on Sophia was stronger than his drive to find other prey—“but I don’t think he’ll leave the country. He enjoys being a star here too much.” Ending the call after a few more quick words, he went to sit beside Sophia on the couch. “Now we wait.”
Sophia couldn’t stand to see the weight on Max’s shoulders, the strain around his mouth. “Don’t hurt, Max.” She cupped his cheek, her emotions stripped bare. “Bonner doesn’t deserve to have you beating yourself up for his evil.”
“Sweetheart.” Max’s kiss was so tender, tears burned at the backs of her eyes. It felt different—more than sexual, more than intimate. If felt as if he was handing her a gift she didn’t understand. Holding on to him, she gave herself to the kiss, gave herself to Max. When his lips wandered over her cheek and down her jaw, she shivered and wove her fingers through the thick silk of his hair.
Nikita could wait, she thought. The whole world could wait. Tonight, this moment, she was stealing for her and the strong, loyal, beautiful man who’d seen every broken part of her—and yet looked at her as if she was perfect. “Max. Don’t stop. Not today.”
Lifting his head from hers, he rose to his feet in a smooth move that spoke of a very masculine strength. When he held out a hand, it felt impossibly right to place her own against his palm and allow him to lead her to the bedroom, to watch him put his fingers to the buttons of her shirt, slide them out of the slots one by one.
His knuckles brushed the side of one breast, making her shiver.
“Cold?” An intimate murmur against her neck as he dropped the shirt to the floor and moved to curve his body around hers from behind, a hard, sleekly muscled male with an arousal he made no effort to hide.
She’d never felt more alive, more sensuous in her femininity. “No.”
“Good.” His hands shifted up to close over her br**sts through the practical cotton of her bra. “If I bought you naughty lingerie”—shaping her, possessing her—“would you wear it?”
Joy rippled through the sensuality, a piquant spice. He was as determined as her, she thought, to make this time theirs, something no one would ever be able to steal from them no matter what the future held. “How naughty?”
“Very.” He pinched her ni**les lightly—a quick, sharp bite—rolled them between his fingers. “The pieces might even make you blush.”
Heat was already rising over her body, but it was a languorous, seductive thing. “That sounds like a dare.” Reaching back with one arm, she tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him to her. “And I accept.”
A smile she could feel against her skin as his hands slid off her aching flesh. Dropping her own arm to the side, she let him undo the clasp of her bra, then reached up to pull it down and off her body. “Why is it”—she shivered as he kissed the top of her spine, went lower—“that I always end up na**d while you remain dressed?”
A husky masculine chuckle, his lips moving over her shoulder, his hands on her hips. “Because I’m a smart man.” Playing his fingers across her abdomen, he undid the top button of her jeans. “Take these off for me.”
That slow, slumberous heat flamed, burned, but she took a step forward, lowered the zipper and then—taking a deep breath—pushed down both the jeans and her panties. Leaning forward to pull them off her feet, she could barely hear anything through the thunder of her heartbeat. Max didn’t say a word until she straightened back to her full height. But then he spoke . . . and she melted.
CHAPTER 38
“Beautiful.” A rough sound, impatient hands that turned her to meet his kiss.
And oh, his kiss.
It held the same wild tenderness, the same protectiveness that had torn through her every shield from the very first. But it also held something else—a raw, dark pleasure, a hotly sexual aggression. Shuddering, she pulled at his shirt. Buttons went flying every which way as he cooperated with her frustrated need to touch him, but his attention was on her mouth, his hunger inexorable.
His hands back on her body as soon as his shirt fell to the floor, he squeezed and petted until she broke the kiss, unable to take any more. But he wouldn’t let her go. Kisses on her jaw, on her neck as he walked her backward, the heat of his chest an exquisite caress. She was more than ready to fall onto the bed when it hit the backs of her knees. Not waiting for him to nudge her, she crawled on and turned over to brace herself on her elbows.
He was watching her with a glittering kind of focus, one that made her skin tighten until it almost hurt. She swallowed as his fingers went to his jeans, as he undid the snaps and peeled the denim down his legs, along with his briefs. Her eyes were riveted to the thick length of his erection . . . to the hand he clasped around it. He stroked once, and her body arched. She couldn’t explain it, didn’t understand it, but the sight of him stroking his own flesh was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. “Max.” A shuddering plea.