opening up far more of herself than he’d hoped for. And he would take it all, and pray he could return every ounce of trust she’d placed in him.
Nora couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex, but she knew it had never been like this.
She released Duke’s hands and wrapped her arms around his back, her fingers pressing into his hard muscles as she stretched herself for him. There was nothing in the world like this, being here, with Duke. Her mind didn’t wander, her body didn’t betray her nervousness. In fact, she wasn’t nervous. She had a confidence that emboldened her, that pushed her to seek more from Duke, more from herself, than she’d thought she’d wanted.
She arched her back and without having to say anything, he pushed himself fully into her. She bit back a cry as she lost her breath. The needful sounds, the rich, earthy scents, the texture of his body on top of her, inside of her, wrapped around her, heightened her perceptions. It was as if she were fully and completely absorbed into this man. She didn’t know where she ended and Duke began. She didn’t want to know. Never had she felt so at one with another human being, never had she felt so desired or hungry. He filled her, melting her, becoming part of her.
He pushed up off her chest, giving her air she didn’t want but sorely needed, his hands on either side of her head.
“Nora,” he whispered, his voice throaty and deep, sending shivers that vibrated through her body and made him grunt.
She opened her eyes, his deep blue eyes only inches from hers, his square jaw set. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as his hips moved, slowly up, then down until she gasped, a tornado building again inside her, bigger, stronger, more powerful than the twister that overtook her in the dining room.
He knew it, too, his face darkening, as he forced himself to go slow. She felt his biceps; they were hard, his veins pronounced as he controlled his movements. His sweat dripped onto her skin, their scents mingling. Her entire body responded to Duke, her hips meeting his as they quickly developed a perfect rhythm, a tempo that with every beat increased the pace.
In another flash of light and heat, Nora cried out, her body arching as if pulled up by an invisible string, and she wrapped one leg around Duke’s waist to hold him there, right there, as waves of her orgasm crashed into each other, one after the other. Duke wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her tight to him as his own orgasm exploded into her. The intensity, the incredible high of their shared pleasure, left Nora dizzy and completely satiated.
Duke eased down on her, his heart pounding so hard she was lulled by the rhythmic power. He kissed her on her cheek, her neck, her lips, soft whispers of affection, of satisfaction, of comfort.
“That was …” she began, but her mind was mush and she smiled and sighed, squirming beneath him.
“Incredible,” he finished. He rolled over, pulling her with him, and managed to find the sheet that had fallen she didn’t know where. He wrapped the sheet around them, and held her.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said emphatically.
“Good,” she whispered and snuggled into him. Her eyes closed and she sighed with contentment. She couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Duke watched Nora as she drifted off to sleep. Her hair was damp from their activities, and he tucked it behind one of her ears so he could see her profile. So soft, so beautiful, so peaceful in rest. She looked vulnerable, something that she hid very well most of the time.
The urge to protect was common to him; it was part of his job. But the need to keep Nora safe overwhelmed him. This wasn’t Duke’s job, this was more. He couldn’t bear for Nora to be hurt, he had to keep her safe and protect her not only from predators, but from her own relentless drive, her strong empathy, and sense of guilt for things she had no control over. Nora never had anyone looking out for her: not her mother, not her boss, not even her sister. And certainly not Nora.
But now she had Duke. This was far more important than a job. It involved his heart, and he was losing it to Nora faster than he could tell her he loved her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Overwhelming despair washed over Leif Cole as the sheriff drove him home from the morgue. Anya was dead and Leif felt more than partly responsible.
She’d been so upset when she found out someone had died in the fire at Butcher-Payne, Leif should have stayed with her. He’d never imagined she’d kill herself.
He also knew that if Jonah Payne had been murdered in cold blood, Anya had played no part in it. She wouldn’t kill any living creature intentionally. Nothing Sheriff Lance Sanger or FBI agent English said would ever convince him otherwise. The arson? Yes. Murder? Never.
Lance turned down the long driveway that led to Leif’s small but private ranch house in pricey Granite Bay. His former friend had been surprisingly kind during the morgue visit and subsequent drive. Leif had been in no shape to pick up his own car that he’d left at Rose College when Lance arrested him, but he could call a friend for a ride or get a taxi tomorrow. If he went to classes tomorrow. He had a lot of thinking to do. Thinking and mourning.
Anya had been too young to die.
“Thank you,” Leif said, his hand on the door handle.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lance said, distinctly uncomfortable.
“She’s gone,” Leif whispered. He cleared his throat. “She didn’t kill Jonah Payne, not in the way Agent English said.”
“I’m not going to discuss the investigation with you.”
“Fine, just listen then. Anya made mistakes, but her motivations were good. Murder-it’s not in her blood. I can’t believe she killed herself. I don’t know if I believe it.”
“We’re investigating all three deaths thoroughly,” Lance said. “I assure you we’ll find out what happened.”
“It won’t bring her back.” His voice caught in his throat.
Lance shifted in his seat, and Leif knew it would be expecting too much to ask him to come in for a drink. Lance was a cop, but more than his career, Lance didn’t understand why Leif believed so passionately in his ideas. Time had divided them, and ideas kept them apart. When your core values differed, there was no seeing eye-to- eye.
“I know, don’t leave town,” Leif said, opening the door.
“Leif-” Lance began.
Leif glanced at him.
Lance said, “I’m sorry I was a jerk when you came back from college. I missed our friendship, and you weren’t the same.”
“We all grow up. You changed too,” Leif said. “We aren’t the same kids we were. But I’ll never forget when we put the dead skunk in Ms. Knudson’s office after she accused us of cheating.”
Lance grinned. “She knew it was us, but could never prove it. She couldn’t get the stink out for weeks.”
“Thanks for driving me home,” Leif said, leaving the rest unspoken.
“Do you want company for a while?” Lance offered.
Leif almost took him up on it. Almost. Instead he shook his head. “I need time alone.”
“Don’t drink too much.”
“I won’t. I’m okay, I just need to think.” Leif got out and walked to his front door. He rarely came in this entrance, usually pulling into the garage and coming through the kitchen door. He fumbled for his keys, found the right one, and waved as the sheriff drove away.
Leif stood on his porch for a minute and looked up at the stars. It was a beautiful night, a night that Anya would have appreciated. She loved the stars, the vast space, the entire earth. She cared about everyone and everything, with a sincere compassion that few people possessed. The world was worse off with Anya gone.
He squeezed his burning eyes closed and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d loved her. Damn, he loved her. There was no bringing her back.
He pushed the door open and slammed it closed. He’d promised Lance he wouldn’t drink much, but he needed something to dull the pain in his heart. Something to help him sleep. A triple shot of whiskey might help. A hot
