Shattered Souls (24 page)

Cait gave him a fierce scowl, which faded as she took in the tension in his face and body. Sam wanted something pretty bad. Not a quick fix. That was a certainty by the way he hesitated, his gaze scanning her body as though looking for the best place to start.

Maybe he needed a hint or two. Or a tease. Not something she was very good at, but a girl can learn. Holding his hot, dark gaze, she cupped her breasts, plumping the meager mounds with her hands and then toggling the tips with her thumbs.

Braced on his arms, Sam’s gaze homed in like a heat-seeking missile while he watched.

Not saying a word, she roughed the aching nubs, tweaking, then pulling them, letting him see how aroused she was becoming, how pleasurable was the sweet torture. She bit her lower lip and then opened her mouth to give a breathy moan.

A growl rumbled through his chest, and he dived down, nudging aside a hand with his nose and mouth, then latching onto the tip.

Smiling because he’d reacted just as she expected, she sank her hands into his thick, dark hair, fingertips raking his scalp as he tugged and nibbled. Darts of electric heat sparked with the pressure of his lips and the sharper scrape of his teeth.

Her lower body undulated, hips lifting, seeking his hard, swollen shaft, but he was already moving down her body, hands roaming her belly and sides, sliding ever downward until he lay, supported on his elbows, between her legs.

Just the look on his face—hard and feral—made her breath catch.

He cupped her buttocks and lifted them, fingers digging into her soft flesh to mold her this way and that as he kissed her lower abdomen and the top of her mound. When his tongue snaked between her folds, she gripped his hair and tugged hard. “Too much, Sam.” And the sensation was. Her clit swelled painfully, the thin membrane cloaking it sliding from the hardening knot to expose it to his wicked flicks.

Cradling her bottom, he raised her again. Her thighs widened, laying everything open for him to explore, and Cait rolled her head side to side, trying to still the clamoring inside her, the coil tightening around her core. But the insistent swirl of his tongue ratcheted up her arousal until her belly and thighs quivered, and she could no longer hold back her jagged moans.

Sam gave her a long lick and a kiss, then lifted his head. His face was carved like warm granite. Cheekbones sharp, his hooded gaze so dark she felt a moment’s trepidation.

“Always wanted to tie you down. Put a gag in your mouth so you couldn’t goad me into rushing. I have a hard enough time trying not to slam you to the bed and fuck you hard. Just once, I’d like to take my time.”

“Seems you have it now. Have I complained?”

“The way you’re trembling makes me so damn hard, don’t think I’ll last too long.”

She offered him a small smile. “And that’s somehow my fault? How about I promise not to move?” Liking this difference in Sam, she reached above her for the rungs, wrapped her fingers around them, and then arched a brow.

A smile tipped up one corner of his mouth. “You’re doing it again. That passive-aggressive thing. Telling me you’ll be still but making sure I won’t be able to stand it.”

“All I did was look at you,” she grumbled, secretly pleased. “Can’t blame me if
you
don’t have any control.”

He withdrew one hand from under her to thrust two fingers inside her melting sex. “You’re so damn wet, so hot.” He lowered his head and drew her clit into his mouth while he drove his fingers inside her, again and again.

Lewd, juicy sounds surrounded them. Oh, he knew he had her right at the edge. She could tell by the gruff grunt that mocked her. His lips hardened around her little nubbin, drawing with more commitment. His fingers plunged deeper inside, three now, until she felt deliciously full. Her knees drew higher, splayed wider, her pelvis pumped. She was so close, almost there.

He stopped again, and Cait rolled her head forward, bugging her eyes. “Seriously?” she gasped.

His dark brows waggled, and he crawled up her body like a rangy tiger stalking prey, pausing along the way to take nips that kept her nerve endings jangling. When his cock nudged her sex, she scooped her hips to take him, but he held himself back.

“Cait,” he whispered, his lips hovering an inch above hers.

She watched his mouth, licked her own. “Mmmm?”

“Wrap yourself around me, sweetheart.”

At his terse words, she let go of the wooden rungs, wrapped her arms and legs around his body, and then met his dark, steady gaze with a questioning one of her own. Her entire body vibrated. Sweat slicked her belly and face. “Sam, please,” she mewled, surprised a sound that small and needy came from her mouth.

His hands framed her face, and he bent to kiss her. “It’s OK. I’ll take care of you.” Then he kissed her hard and slid slowly up her slippery channel.

She squeezed her inner muscles around him, trying to coax him into moving faster and losing control because she craved his sweet violence. But he kept his pace slow and even, pumping in and out until she dug her nails into his backside. He gave a bark of laughter, but the sound was tight, strained. She slid a finger down the crevice between his buttocks, and he aimed a glare downward, but she knew the moment he conceded.

He cussed softly, the single word exactly what she wanted. He rammed deep inside, then pulled free and gave her another hard, lunging stroke.

“Yes, Sam,” she breathed, tightening around him. “Yes, baby.”

His lips peeled away from his teeth, and he came at her faster, harder, each plunge jerking her body, pushing her up the sheets in short, harsh increments.

Warmth heated her from the inside out. This was what she wanted. Him letting loose, wild passion darkening his face and eyes. She reveled in his loss of control because she knew, deep inside, he’d never been this way with anyone else.

Cait raked his skin with her nails, beat her heels against his back, holding on with everything she had. Because now he was pounding, his hard, buff body the perfectly honed implement to deliver her the most explosive pleasure she’d ever experienced with a lover.

She’d missed this. Cried for the loss when he’d gone. Hidden her pain and her desire behind a shield of self-contempt because she’d let go of the best thing that had ever happened in her life.

Sam shifted, coming up on his arms for better leverage, and quickened the motions of his hips, giving her jackhammer thrusts that heated her delicate inner tissues and stroked the mass of nerves just inside. His pubic bone ground against her clit. His moves were hitting everything, doing it just right. She met his gaze, opened her mouth to ask for more, but he knew her.

He slammed home, taking her over the edge. Her back arched, her head dug into the mattress, and she soared. A keening howl echoed in the room, hers, but felt disembodied. The cry was so feminine, so shrill.

Her vision narrowed to his face, shadows closing around a black tunnel. She remembered to breathe, but the deeper gasp sounded more like sob.

Sam’s head jerked back. His eyes squeezed shut. Hot jets of come soothed her inner walls as he eased the rhythm of his strokes.

With a groan, he fell against her, slid his hands beneath her, and held her close as the pulsing waned. When he tried to withdraw, she gripped his back and pushed her cheek against his shoulder, so he rolled, taking her with him until she settled on top.

His hands glided on her slick skin, soothing both her and him. Their heartbeats slowed.

When she had the strength and self-control, she lifted her head and kissed him. “Don’t know where that came from, but you damn near killed me, Sam.” Wanting to ease the tension between them, she tried to make a joke, because his expression held that note of angry bleakness that so often was there when he looked her way. His jaw tightened. He wasn’t going to respond.

So she laid her head atop his shoulder and let it be. For now. Although she wanted more than anything to tell him she loved him, too.

Late in the evening, Sam’s cell chirped. He rolled to sit at the side of the bed, mind crisp. He picked up the phone from the bedside table where he’d placed it before sleeping.

“Tried your landline, but you must be with the old lady,” came a gruff voice.

“LT.” Sam wiped a tired hand over his face and then cast a glance at Cait, who slept beside him, her arms and legs in a sprawl. He eased off the bed and wandered to the living room. “I know this isn’t a social call. And it can’t be about the case because you pulled me off it,” he growled.

“Look, I know I was a little rough today. But I have a lead. One I don’t want to make official because we don’t need word makin’ it around headquarters. Want this kept on the down-low until we’re sure it’s anything.”

“What do you have?”

“Grady got an address off a check. A house in Oak Hills.”

Sam went to the kitchen and pulled open several drawers until he found a notepad and pencil. “Give it to me. We’ll have a look-see and let you know if we find anything.”

“Don’t want people’s hopes gettin’ up. More dead ends when everyone’s worried about the girls. It’d look bad for the department. We already look like a bunch of stooges.”

“I’m on it…and thanks.” He ended the call and turned toward the entrance of Cait’s bedroom.

She stood with a sheet wrapped around her.

“Do we have something?”

“Yeah, but we need to go in armed. You even have a gun?”

“I’m not ready.” Cait shook her head. “I have to hit Morin’s in case Worthen’s demon is there.”

Sam gave a curt nod. Not happy about returning to the sorcerer. “I’ll get dressed.”

Her pretty face closed, her expression wiped clean. Only her eyes showed any emotion—a tinge of regret in their wide green depths. “No, Sam. I told you when we started that there would be some places you couldn’t go. This is one of them. This time, I have go it alone.”

Everything inside him tightened in rejection. “Exactly what is it you need to do?”

Cait’s gaze slid away. “He’s going to arm me with some of his magic. I can’t explain.”

“You mean you won’t.” His hands tightened, and he flexed them straight.

She nodded slowly. “I’ve never done this. So I’m not sure of everything that has to happen. I have to have his energy, his power, or we don’t have a hope in hell of stopping this thing.”

And even though everything inside him rejected the idea of her being alone with her old mentor, Sam relented. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Get with Jason. Tell him we’ll hit the house in a couple of hours.”

“Cait, I don’t trust Morin.” He kept from reaching for her. Barely. There was something about the mage that didn’t sit right, other than the fact he’d been close to Cait.

“I know. And you don’t trust me. I get that. But I promise—”

“Don’t.” He gave a sharp shake of his head. “You’ll do whatever the hell you think you have to.”
You always have.

Sam knew he was being an ass, but he was scared. More than anything, he wished he could go this alone. Keep her clear of danger. The fact she was the one who’d have to stand against a demon shook him to the core. He didn’t like feeling useless. Out of control.

He stalked past her, gathered his clothes, and dressed in silence while she sat on the edge of the bed.

When he was ready, she glanced up. Her face was set in stubborn lines, but her eyes gave away her fear. His anger melted. He bent over her, cupped her face, and kissed her hard. “Do what you have to, baby. Whatever you need to be ready. I won’t lose you.”

Her mouth trembled, and she gave his cheek a soft press of lips. “I know you hate this.”

“You don’t have to protect me. Shouldn’t,” he bit out. “We’re partners.”

“Partners.” Again, her gaze fell away.

Because he didn’t trust himself to say more, he turned on his heel and left. Behind him, he heard the snick of the bathroom door, the soft patter of water in the shower.

He’d have preferred she went to Morin with the stink of sex on her skin so the other man would know damn well Cait belonged to him. But it was enough her lips were swollen from his kisses. No way the bastard would miss it and not know Cait had gotten busy with her “husband.”

At his car he hesitated, nearly turned back. When next he saw her, they’d be on their way to Oak Hills, Jason in tow. No chance for him to tell her how much the past couple of days had meant.

Instead, he yanked open the door, slid inside, and started the engine. If she didn’t know by now, she wasn’t nearly as smart as he knew she was. If he hadn’t cared, he’d never have gotten back in bed with her. Fact was, he cared too damn much, even more so after all he’d learned.

For so long she’d turned her back on what she really was and messed up her life. He doubted she’d make the same mistake again. Magic was part of her identity. That much he knew from the moment she’d taken that bag of herbs and tossed it into the air to find Morin’s place. She’d sparkled with excitement, a hint of nostalgic joy illuminating her features.

With that last thought he pushed aside his resentment, prayed Morin wouldn’t somehow sway her or cast a spell that would pull her away.