Stalked

Lucy closed her eyes. Sean wasn’t going to budge. He wanted to know. She considered making something up, but he would know. She wished she was a better liar.

“I don’t know how to put it in words,” she finally said.

“Patrick said you didn’t want to get your license when you were sixteen.”

“But I did.”

“Of course you did; you’ve never let fear hold you back.”

“And it’s not now. I’ll get through this, Sean.”

“What happened?”

“I thought everyone was dead, okay?” Tears clouded her vision. “Damn you, I don’t want to cry.”

He kissed her lightly. “When I found my plane upside down in the field last May, I thought you and Noah were still in it.”

Maybe he did know. “It’s not logical,” she said. “I was a little kid. But every time I drive, I get tense. Just a flash of memory, me wedged between Carina and Patrick, the blood, the rain hitting our car, and they weren’t moving. No one was moving. It seemed like hours that I was there, crying, staring at my dad, who was so big and strong, but blood covered his head.

“It wasn’t hours, of course. I learned later less than five minutes passed before someone, an off-duty policeman, came over to our van. Everyone woke up after that, but those minutes were forever to me.”

Lucy was grateful that Sean didn’t probe her for more details or offer his sympathy. His even breathing, his chin on her head, was all she wanted-or needed. Comfort.

“Every time I drive, especially on the freeway, I get a flash of my family. When I interned with the Sheriff’s department, I never went to traffic fatalities. I found excuses not to go. Not consciously, but I see it now.”

“And when you and Detective Reid were run off the road last month, you were thinking about it.”

She nodded.

“I knew you were keeping something from me that day.”

She looked up at him. “Thank you for not pushing.”

“I knew you’d tell me eventually.” He kissed her, and her muscles began to relax.

“I promised you a romantic night,” Lucy said. “And all we’ve talked about was work.”

“And you.” He kissed her again. “Lay down. On your stomach. You’re still tense.”

Lucy complied and Sean pressed his fingers and thumb on her sore shoulder muscles.

“Umm,” she said.

“You’re really tense. Take off your shirt.”

“This sounds like a ploy to get me into bed with you.”

“How well you know me.” He kissed the back of her neck.

Lucy smiled and took off her shirt. Sean rummaged through her overnight bag and found her favorite lotion. He poured some into his hands and rubbed them together, then straddled her without putting any weight on her. Slowly, he spread the lotion over her back, kneading her muscles from her neck to her hips.

“You’re going to smell like roses,” Lucy mumbled.

“I’ll be reminded of you.”

Sean’s strong, talented hands smoothed out her stress. He didn’t rush. With each passing minute, Lucy’s mind slowed down, pushing aside the case, her grief, her childhood trauma. The world disappeared and all that was left was her and Sean.

Sean reached around and unbuttoned Lucy’s jeans and pulled them down her well-formed legs. He rubbed more lotion between his hands and took the massage from her lower back to her thighs and down to her calves.

“Oh, God, Sean,” she whispered, and he smiled.

“I wish I could do this for you every night,” he said, and began rubbing the balls of her feet.

“I could fall asleep so easily.”

“Don’t you dare.” He wished she didn’t get this tense. Tomorrow, she’d be back working on the case, focused on everyone except herself. He would do this for her nightly, and enjoy it.

Lucy rolled over and smiled at him. “Take off your clothes.”

“Aren’t you bossy.”

“I don’t like to be naked alone.”

Sean stripped, then ran his hands up her legs, across her stomach, kissing her body as he went. He kissed the faded scars across her breasts, then entwined his hands with hers. He stared at her, her dark eyes craving him as much as he craved her. Her lips parted and she tilted her face up to meet his.

“I love you, Luce.”

She smiled and kissed him. “Make love to me.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” He kissed her lips, her jaw, her neck. He loved her neck, so smooth and soft and sensitive. His tongue explored the sweet trail under her jaw up to her ear and she gasped, clutching his shoulders, when he lightly bit her earlobe.

She breathed his name, a whisper of desire, then wrapped her legs around him.

His penis reached for her as if it had a mind of its own. He thrust into her quickly and she gasped, meeting him halfway. He held himself still, wanting to savor this moment, his hands still clasped in hers, sweat coating their bodies. In tacit agreement they tried to hold off the urgency. Sean moved slowly, needing to relish this moment, to remember every sweet spot of Lucy’s body. The way she moved. The way she moaned. The way she whispered, I love you.

Lucy shifted beneath him and the friction made him groan. It was always like this with them, he wanted slow and prolonged, but the sexual combustibility always burned hot when they were alone and naked. Lucy had learned that her touch, her scent, her body, her voice, just made him crave her even more; she enjoyed his needs, she enjoyed him. They’d built up trust and love over these months, and Sean would never forget this moment, like he never forgot any of the moments they were together.

He’d never get enough of her, never wanted to get enough. “Lucy,” he breathed into her neck; then he leaned up and stared at her glowing face, and her eyes opened. She smiled and surprised him. She flipped him onto his back and sank deeper onto him. Her back arched and her eyes partly closed. Droplets of sweat ran between her breasts, glistening in the faint light, and he grabbed her hips, his orgasm hitting him with a power he didn’t want to control. He held her body down on his and she froze, then let out a quiet cry as every one of her muscles tightened then relaxed simultaneously. She collapsed on top of him.

Lucy smiled into Sean’s chest, her skin slick with sweat and lotion. She listened to his rapidly beating heart, loved the way his arms tightened around her, holding her close.

“I need a shower,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“We should conserve water.”

“Yes, we should.”

Lucy rose from the bed, took Sean’s hand, and pulled him up.

“Thank you,” she said.

He shook his head. “Never thank me for loving you.”

“I meant, thank you for doing all this. Flying me here, searching for answers when we don’t even know all the questions.”

“Huge hardship. Traveling to my favorite city with my favorite woman and making love in the same hotel where I first told the woman I love that I loved her. Yeah, I’m suffering big-time.”

“You know what I meant.”

He kissed her. “I do. What’s important to you is important to me. I thought you knew that by now.”

She touched his face with her fingertips. “I’m very lucky.”

He smiled. “Yes, you are.”

She laughed and pulled him toward the bathroom. She turned on the shower.

“I’m the lucky one,” Sean whispered.