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He walked her through a few more difficult questions that undermined her credibility and her role in the murder.
“I was a witness—I didn’t pull that trigger.” She twitched her chin up in a haughty manner that almost stole his own control.
He touched the point of her chin. Realizing her gesture gave away her slip, she lowered it and gave him a flat stare.
He nodded. “I think you’re ready.”
“You think so?” Able to drop the façade, she twisted her hands in her lap and ten emotions warred on her face as she looked up at him.
He took her hand and drew her to her feet. Then he kissed her.
The crush of his lips was slow at first, and he gave her every chance to retain her hard-won composure. But as soon as he bit down on her bottom lip and gave it a light tug, a low moan escaped her. She fisted her hands in the front of his shirt and pulled him closer.
When he deepened the kiss, plundering her for endless minutes, she pushed closer and rubbed against him.
“Face,” he murmured against her lips, fighting his own grin.
“I’m trying,” she breathed.
He dragged his thumb slowly across her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt, and her breath hitched, her whole body going rigid with the effort of holding still.
“How am I doing?” Her voice wobbled.
“Barely holding it together.” He let his hand trail lower, over her stomach. He cupped her pussy through her leggings, and any pretense of equilibrium vanished.
She dropped her head against his chest with a sigh of desire. Using one knuckle, he tipped her chin back up and studied her face.
Flushed. Undone. Her eyes dark with a want she wasn’t even trying to hide anymore.
“Definitely failing.” Satisfaction threaded through his tone.
“Not fair when you’re touching me like—oh!” She rocked into his hand as he pressed down on her clit.
“Life’s not fair, baby.” He kissed her again with deep passes of his tongue. Every thread of resistance washed out of her, leaving her sagging in his arms.
She moved her hands up his chest and began working the buttons of his flannel open, her mouth moving with his.
When she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, she met his stare. “Game’s over. You win.”
Grinning, he walked her toward the bed, trailing kisses from her lips to her jaw and the soft skin below her ear. “Consider…this…a…bonus…round.”
Her laugh cut off sharply as he thrust his tongue between her lips again. His body reacted, arousal shooting off the charts. His cock throbbed, and neither of them could undress fast enough.
Tomorrow, she’d walk into a room with a stranger and answer hard questions with a steady face because he’d shown her she was capable of mastering herself.
Tonight, he intended to make sure she forgot every single thing waiting for her tomorrow. While she was in his arms—his bed—nothing else mattered.
* * * * *
Whitley’s skin blazed with heat as Wyatt’s body covered hers. His hard body against her soft one left her aching to feel him moving inside her.
His eyes burned down into hers. “You’re beautiful.” He traced a path down her breast, skimming over her nipple with mesmerizing slowness.
A flush heated her face, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the only steady thing she’d had in this world in far too long.
Tomorrow everything would get more complicated. If the team said she’d be safe, she trusted them. It was the rest of the world she still didn’t trust.
He braced his weight on his forearms, and she shuddered at the sight of his muscles bulging and veins snaking down each arm. Everything about her lover had become as familiar to her as breathing.
