Like he could devour me.
Cruce seems to bristle with some type of energy as he rolls my way again, settles in between my legs, and puts his hands to the backs of my thighs. I shift, let him spread me wide, and I take him in my grip.
I guide him to me, feel him press and breach me slowly.
A long slide into my body until our pelvises are pressed tightly to one another.
I can’t help but groan at the feeling of full completeness. Cruce intently watches where we’re joined as his hips pull back, then he slides his long length out almost to the tip before pressing deeply back in.
“Fuck,” he grunts, an awed expression washing over his face as he peers down at me. “Feels so fucking good, Barrett.”
“So good,” I murmur, reaching to palm his face… touch his beard.
One of his hands comes up, takes me by the forearm, and pulls me away so he can examine my scabbed wrists. He dips his head, then places his lips there tenderly before dropping his weight onto me.
Linking our fingers together on both sides, Cruce raises my arms above my head and proceeds to slowly fuck me… torsos pressed together, the only movement his hips as they thrust in and out.
It’s slow, luxurious, and consuming.
When his mouth comes back to mine, he fucks me just as sweetly with his tongue.
It goes on and on, and I don’t want it to end.
Yet, all good things do, but with Cruce, at least they end with fireworks. We both orgasm hard and slow at the same time. Brutal shudders of ecstasy rip us apart and let us bleed back into each other.
Cruce merely wraps his arms around me, even as we’re still shaking, and holds me through it.
♦
“I needed that,” I murmur, long after we’ve come back down to earth. “I needed to know that we’re okay.”
“Hmmm,” he says, sort of an agreeing type of non-statement. I figure the power of speech might still be absent after how hard we both just came.
“I was thinking of going into the office today,” I say, and he shifts toward me.
“You sure?” he asks with concern. “I mean… it’s only been a few days since—”
“I’m sure,” I cut him off. “I sort of need to have some normal me time, too. Sitting around and doing nothing makes me feel a bit weak.”
His eyes cloud a little, but he gives a nod to show he understands.
“I’d like someone from Jameson to escort you there and back,” he says hesitantly.
“Why?” I ask, shifting so there’s some distance between us and I can see him better. “The danger is over, right?”
“Right,” he replies, but then he backtracks. “It’s just… until the FBI can finish their investigation, we don’t know if there are other people out there with the same line of thinking as Munford.”
“But I’ve already given the formula up,” I point out. “It’s out in the open.”
Which is true. I’d turned over all my notes and my laptop to the director of my lab and the scientists representing the United States Department of Energy. I’d met with them to go over things and explain my theory. I’d been grilled, as I should have been. They’d tested me as best they could, but let’s face it… if they’d known all this stuff, they could have figured it out themselves.
“Yes,” Cruce counters. “But that’s not public knowledge yet.”
I sigh in frustration. “How much longer will this have to go on?”
“Until the FBI can finish their investigation,” he replies, his tone patient if a bit resigned.
I feel my eyebrows draw inward as something hits me. “Why don’t you just escort me?”
Cruce’s gaze cuts away from me, but there’s a flash of guilt he can’t hide. But just as quickly, he gives me his regard again.
The hardening of his jaw is a foreboding tell.
“I need to head back to Pittsburgh,” he says. I blink in surprise. It was the last thing I thought I’d hear from him, yet… how could I not consider this?
Cruce doesn’t live in D.C. anymore. He has another job in another city. It dawns on me all at once that I’ve been hiding for the last few days—thinking I was ready to return to normality, while having no clue what that actually meant.
“Oh,” I murmur, averting my eyes from Cruce to focus on the bathroom door. Suddenly, I have an overwhelming need to escape this bed.
We’d just re-solidified our intimacy… and for what?
For nothing, I think.
I start to roll away from Cruce, but his arm comes around my waist to stop me. He pulls me back, hand to my chin, and forces me toward him. “I have to get back for a debriefing and to figure out what my next assignment is going to be.”
“I understand,” I reply woodenly. “And I’ve got my own stuff to do. All the reactor testing is actually going to be out in California. I’ll need to be present for that.”
“I know,” he replies softly. “It’s just a tough time for us right now.”
“We’ll survive it,” I reply brightly.
Cruce studies me with a long hard look deep into my eyes, as if he’s trying to fathom what I might mean in those cryptic words. “We’ll absolutely survive it. I promise.”
A smile plastered to my face, I just stare. I’d survived torture and near rape, so I know I can survive if it doesn’t work out between Cruce and me.
Placing my hand on his chest, I lean over and brush my lips lightly against his. When I pull back, I don’t bother looking at him. Instead, I roll off the bed with a murmured, “I’m going to take a shower before heading into the lab.”
He doesn’t reply.
CHAPTER 26
Cruce
I bang my fist on the desk, frustrated I can’t concentrate on the fucking report I’m supposed to be writing. Kynan’s a stickler for paperwork, and I have to recount my entire mission from start to finish in a lengthy document that will get placed in a permanent file.
I suppose that’s good news.
I still have a job here at Jameson, which surprises me. Not only had I managed to get our client captured on my watch, but I’d also murdered a man in cold blood because of personal reasons that had nothing to do with safety or self-defense.
That right there was more than enough reason for a justifiable termination if there ever was one, but for some reason… Kynan welcomed me back to headquarters with open arms and a knowing smile.
I know what it means. He’d been in the same exact situation—his woman’s tormentor within his grasp and a burning deep in his gut to end his miserable life.
Kynan merely made a different choice than I had, but it doesn’t mean he thinks it was the right choice. I can see within his eyes he has a bit of respect for what I did. Perhaps even a little bit of envy. As it stands, Joslyn’s stalker will be in prison for the rest of his life, but that doesn’t make Kynan sleep any better at night. He’d prefer the man fade from existence—of that, I have no doubt.
“What did that desk ever do to you?” Saint asks from two desks over. He’s been playing a computer game for the last fifteen minutes. Besides that, he’s gearing up for a mission he and Kynan have been discussing, yet I have no clue if I’ll be called in to help on it or not. It’s not been shared with me.