Deadly Heat (Deadly 2)

“I don’t want you to beg.” She held his gaze. “I just want you.”

His fingers tunneled under her hair. He tipped her head back, and he kissed her. His tongue thrust into her mouth, and it was what she wanted.

He was what she wanted.

Kenton pushed between her legs. She pressed closer and tightened her mouth on him. The kiss took. Claimed.

Hers. Because she was the possessive type, and Kenton was most definitely hers. She knew it, deep inside. Her sex moistened for him. Her ni**les ached, and she wanted him. It didn’t matter where they were or who waited down the hallway.

Dark need. Hot passion. Wild with him, always wild.

He might say she tempted him and pushed him past his careful reserve, but he drove her right to the edge.

And made her want more.

So much more.

She grabbed his hips and arched closer against him. Lora opened her mouth wider, and her tongue slid against his.

His left hand smoothed down her body and paused over her racing heart. His fingers feathered over her br**sts, and his touch made the flesh ache even more.

“I want you naked.” His words, but they could have been hers. “I want you alone,” he whispered as his lips hovered just above her mouth. “I want you spread out on the bed. And I want to make a f**king feast of you.”

Oh, okay, wow.

“When this is all over, I want you to come with me. Just us. A few days at my cabin. You and me—no killers. No past. Us.”

That sounded so good, but she didn’t want to wait that long. She wanted him, now.

His lips pressed against her throat, just under her right ear, that spot that made heat pool between her legs. The spot that made her quiver and moan.

He’d learned her body well.

Her hands slid down his chest. Moving down, down until her fingers rubbed over his arousal.

“Lora.”

And she’d learned his body.

“I want you…” he told her. “More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.” His admission had her heart racing faster.

Voices rose outside.

A radio blared.

Her hands stilled on him.

His scent was around her. His strength and his flesh. She needed so much more.

But she wouldn’t get it. Not yet. Not here.

“I’m trading days and working the shift tonight.” She took a breath and swore she tasted him. “I’m off at 7:00 A.M.”

Kenton’s head lifted. His pupils were big, dark, and full of need.

Her hands pushed him back, and she eased off the table. “Pick me up then.” She stood on her toes and skimmed her lips over his jaw. “And you can have me ten minutes later.”

His body hardened. “Aw, damn.”

She smiled, took a breath, and then made her hands free him. “But until then, you’ve got a killer to catch.” One who was making her life hell. “So go get the bastard.”

He eased back, but he kept his stare on her, and Lora’s knees trembled. Her panties were wet—no big surprise. She wanted him driving that c**k deep. She wanted to scream, and she wanted to come, and she didn’t want to care about who would hear her.

Control, oh, it was weak.

But Kenton took another step back. Maybe his control was better.

“The case…” He stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again, “The case is hitting close to home.”

Pete. “You’re wrong about Pete. Just like you were wrong about Garrison. When you find him, Pete will clear this situation up.” Her voice was husky. Hell, she sounded as if she’d just gotten out of bed. No, as if she wanted to get into bed. “He’s not the kind of guy you’re looking for. He’s not—”

“Any man can kill.” His stare swept over her. “Sometimes, all you need is the right motivation.” Then he turned and reached for the door.

The safe house was out of his kill zone and out of the reach of the Bringham fire station. Ah, deliberate, that. The Feds had obviously noticed his play area and mapped it out.

Maybe they thought that they were being smart by hiding the witness here, where he didn’t like to hunt.

They were wrong.

He lifted his binoculars and watched the house. The two guys on the front stoop, leaning back so nice and easy, had to be cops.

Did they think he was stupid?

His fingers tightened around the plastic. They’d stashed the witness in a classic one-story house. Five windows lined the front of the house, and he figured that there had to be at least two exits.

How many cops were inside?

How many folks would have to die in order for him to take out Bob Kyle? And yes, he knew that was the ass**le’s name. Thanks to his contact, he knew everything about Kyle.

The guy had lived a f**king wasted life. A life that would end today.

Outside his range? His lips curled. No. No one was outside his reach.

He measured the roof and saw the weak patches. He could start the fire there, let it blaze and burn, but he had to make certain Kyle was trapped. No more mistakes.

He’d started to become sloppy because he was having so much fun. And to think, it had begun as a job. Someone had needed to step up to the plate. He’d stepped.

A small movement on the side of the house caught his eye. Something was—

A window opened. A leg shot out. Then an arm. A few seconds later, a guy fell to the ground, hitting hard.

Laughter spilled from him as he watched.

Sonofabitch.

He wouldn’t have to go after Kyle.

The guy stumbled to his feet and ran for the alley. The cops on the stoop never even glanced back at him.

No, he wouldn’t have to burn the house around the bastard. The witness had just made the game much easier.

He tossed the binoculars onto the seat of his borrowed car. Not the pickup this time, just in case old Kyle had seen it. With a flick of his wrist, he cranked the engine. He knew where that alley led.

And knew exactly where to find his prey.

Kenton straightened his jacket as he stalked down the narrow hallway. He could still feel Lora on him. Her br**sts, pressing against him. Her sex—sweet hell—right over his cock. Her lips skimming along his jaw…

His arousal pressed hard against the front of his pants and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Seven A.M. couldn’t come fast enough for him.

His phone vibrated. He tugged it out of his pocket and winced a bit. Monica. Kenton answered the call immediately. “You got Malone?” He didn’t want her to start the interrogation until he was there. “Hold off until—”

“Malone’s not answering his phone. We sent a unit out to his house, but he wasn’t there.”