Kyle imagined driving his fist into the guy’s face. Hearing the crunch of bones.

“Thank you,” Cadence said. “I will.”

Jason gave a jerky nod, then he was gone, hurrying down the steps to the parking area.

Kyle slammed the door after him and yanked the flimsy lock back into place.

Then he felt Cadence’s fingers on his arm. He didn’t turn to her, not yet. Instead, he grabbed for his phone and had Ben on the line in seconds. “I want you to run another check on Jason Marsh’s background.” They’d checked before, but they damn well needed to do it again.

“What’s happened?”

He’s too interested in Cadence. Too focused. He cleared his throat. “Cadence has a new theory on injuries the perp may have sustained. Dani’s checking, but—tell her to look at Marsh’s background. He fits.” He quickly explained about Marsh’s accident.

Do you like the darkness, Detective?

A huge part of him wanted to race out of that door and go after Marsh but…

Cadence came too close to death.

He couldn’t leave her now.

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“I’m on it,” Ben assured him. “That guy won’t move tonight without me knowing exactly where he’s at, every second.”

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Kyle ended the call and tossed the phone onto the small nightstand.

“You think I can’t see what’s happening to you?” Cadence demanded, her voice low. “Kyle, you’re ripping apart right in front of me.”

Fifteen years’ worth of grief was ravaging through him, twisting up with the rage and fear of nearly losing Cadence.

His eyes squeezed shut. The useless movement didn’t stop the vision. He saw Cadence, bathed in his light. Blood on her face. Fear in her eyes.

If Cadence died, he would truly be lost.

I love her.

No, it was more than love. Too hard and dark and dangerous for love. Too consuming.

She was his drug.

His breath.

His f**king everything.

“Talk to me,” she whispered.

Grief and rage and fear twisted inside of him and made it damn hard to think. All he could do was feel.

I can make her feel, too. But maybe he could be careful. Maybe he could show her.

He turned in her arms and found her staring up at him with the eyes that had always seen straight through him.

“I need you,” he said, pushing the words out. Those growled words were more true than she’d probably ever realize. “I can be careful.”

She pulled him toward the bed.

This room. This bed. Her.

He’d touched heaven here.

Then found hell waiting in the dark.

“Lie down,” Cadence told him.

Kyle slipped down onto the mattress. The bedsprings groaned beneath him. He wanted fury and flesh. Desperate passion. A release that left him hollowed and hungry.

But he couldn’t hurt her.

Wouldn’t.

She let the robe fall to the floor. There were bruises on her flesh. The sight of the darkened blue and brown marks made him even angrier. He wanted to kiss that skin. To take all of her pain away.

“Don’t see the pain,” she said.

Her voice had his eyes rising to her face.

“It doesn’t matter.”

It mattered to him.

“You. Me. This minute. That’s what I want you to think about,” Cadence told him.

She slid onto the bed. Her silken thighs straddled his jeans-clad legs. He’d changed while she showered. He’d cleaned himself, then hurried back into the adjoining room to be with her.

Always, he wanted to be with her.

She bent toward him. Pressed her lips to his. “I knew you were coming for me.”

“I should have been there sooner.”

Her fingers sank into his hair. She tilted up his head. Made him look at her. “Let it go.”

He blinked, not sure.

“Let the guilt go. She didn’t blame you for anything, and neither do I.”

Then her mouth was on his. Sweet, full, her lips pressed to his as her tongue dipped into his mouth.

Her hands were between their bodies. Opening the snap of his jeans. Pulling down his zipper.

It was wrong. She was hurt.

Need.

He kissed her back. Harder. Tasted her as his tongue thrust inside her mouth.

Then his hands were between their bodies. His fingers pushed between her thighs. Careful. So very careful. He eased his index finger into her sex.

She moaned into his mouth.

Her scent, her body, was all around him.

Life. That was what Cadence was to him. His hope, his chance.

His life.

A second finger pushed into her.

He wanted to lift her. To roll and pin her beneath him. To taste every secret she had.

To lick her until she screamed.

I can’t. I have to stay gentle. No more pain for Cadence. No more.

She caught his hands. Pushed them away.

He tensed.

She took his c**k in her hands. Her silken, soft hands. Stroking him, base to tip. Again and again. The blood heated beneath his skin. Pounded through his veins.

She rose onto her knees and positioned his c**k at the entrance to her body.

His hands lifted.

Threaded with hers. Held hers.

A faint furrow appeared between her brows.

He thrust into her, not the driving, consuming thrust he wanted to take. Slow, easy, and he watched her expression for any sign of pain.

Only pleasure whispered over her face.

She started to push up on her knees.

“No.” His whisper was rough.

He was afraid too much movement would jar her. Be careful. Be careful.

His flesh swelled even more within her. He arched his hips, pushing deeper.

She pushed down, a gentle glide of her hips.

Her fingers squeezed his, tighter.

He stretched her completely, feeling every inch of her sex. She was so hot. Wet. Perfect. A sensual heat that had his jaw clenching.

“Have to…” Her breath panted. “I need to move.”

She rose up onto her knees.

Slid back onto him. His flesh pushed through her heat. Drove deeper.

His right hand stayed twined with hers.

But his left moved, going to the juncture of her thighs. Then down, to press against the sensitive flesh that waited. “Don’t move, Cadence.” She needed release. But she wouldn’t have pain.

He wouldn’t allow her pain.

His fingers stroked over her. His c**k stayed in her.

Her eyes on him.

His fingers on her.

Stroking. Caressing.

When she came, her delicate inner muscles clamped his length, milking his release from him because he couldn’t hold back anymore.




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