Say You're Sorry (Romantic Suspense, #22; Sacramento, #1)

With his forefinger on her chin, he turned her head so that she faced him again. “Tell me, Daisy.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Or I’ll feel helpless, too.”

She swallowed hard, then slid her hands into his hair. And pulled him down, taking his mouth in a tentative kiss, a mere ghosting of lips that sent his heart instantly pounding in his chest. She ended it far too soon, releasing her hold on his hair. But he didn’t retreat.

“Is this what you want, Daisy?” he murmured against her mouth. “Me to kiss you?”

Breathlessly, soberly, she nodded.

“Like you kissed me? Or more?”

She closed her eyes. “More,” she answered, but it was barely a whisper. She looked . . . ashamed and that made his heart hurt, even though he thought he understood why.

“Daisy, look at me.” He waited until she’d opened her eyes. “You’re feeling guilty because Trish is gone?”

She nodded again, her eyes filling with tears. “It feels wrong to want to feel . . . good, I guess, although Trish would have been the first person to tell me that was stupid. It’s just that . . .” She blinked once, and the tears streaked down the side of her face, into her hair.

She was quiet for so long that he felt compelled to help. “Do you want to just forget for a little while?” Which made him feel even more selfish, like he was trying to convince her to do what he wanted when she was in a vulnerable place. But to his surprise she shook her head hard.

“I’m not going to forget. Every time I close my eyes I see her . . . lying there.” She shuddered and he tightened his hold around her waist, drawing her tighter to his body.

He kissed her temple. “Then it’s just what?”

“It could have been me,” she said, and he sucked in a breath.

“No.” The denial was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“Yes, Gideon. That man tried to drag me away on Thursday. I would have ended up like Trish.” Her hands were back on his face, stroking his skin, his beard, as if to soften her words. “It could have been me.”

He dropped his head until their foreheads touched. “Please tell me that you aren’t thinking that it should have been you.”

She reared back into the pillow, her eyes blinking wide as she stared up at him. “No! Of course not. It shouldn’t have been anyone, Gideon. But it was. And I just . . . I guess after everything that’s happened, I want to feel . . . not scared for a little while. You know, to feel good. You make me feel good. But I feel selfish asking. Like I’m . . . using you.”

It was his turn to blink. “Oh. Well.” That was honestly not what he’d expected. He’d thought she’d say it was because she needed to wait for a mourning period. Or worse, that she feared she’d be next and didn’t want to die without having one final fling. That she’d be using him? Wow.

Part of him wanted to tell her that he’d be happy to be used by her anytime, but that wasn’t true. What he was feeling was more than an itch to be scratched. He’d scratched itches in the past and he’d been satisfied. But this was different. She was different.

“Tell me this,” he said, because she still looked troubled. “If someone else were here guarding you, would you still want to do . . . whatever?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No.” She traced his lips with her fingertip. “It’s because it’s you. I like you. I can let my guard down with you. I . . . trust you.” Her gaze flicked away for a few seconds before resolutely returning to his. “And I want you. More than any man I’ve ever met.”

His pulse went into overdrive, even as he wondered how many men that had been. Ruthlessly he shoved the thought away. It didn’t matter. Tonight she was with him.

“Yeah?” he asked, feeling almost shy, for God’s sake. Like a goddamn teenager. Which he’d never really been allowed to be.

Her mouth curved as she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her touch tender even as her eyes invited. “Yeah. So if you’d kiss me again, I’d be very grateful.”

“That I can do.” He took her mouth in what started as a simple kiss but quickly heated when she opened to him. He tasted her, a little minty, a little sweet, and so hot. He still lay on his side, his erection a safe distance away. At least until he knew how far she wanted this to go.

A moment later—or maybe minutes, he wasn’t sure—he had his answer as one of her small hands came up to grip the back of his neck, the other clutching a handful of his shirt. She tugged and, schooling his features so that his disappointment didn’t show, he lifted his head, breathing hard.

Her mouth was red and wet, her eyes glazed, and the breasts that had cradled his head rose and fell with her panted breaths. She looked slightly dazed. And so beautiful he had to force himself to back off.

Suppressing a shudder, he pressed his lips to her temple, then kissed down to her ear. “Too much?”

She tugged on his shirt again. “Not enough. You’re too far away, Gideon.”

He shuddered again, a full-body shudder that he couldn’t hide. He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder. “Thought you wanted to stop.”

“No,” she whispered, the hand on his neck sliding up to pet his hair, the hand on his shirt sliding down to grip the waistband of his sweats. “Don’t stop.” She tugged again. “Please.”

He shifted, settling between the legs she parted in welcome, his cock finding her softness, and he couldn’t stop his hips from rolling against her. Humming, she arched her body, pressing her head back into the pillow, exposing the line of her throat. Resting his forearms on either side of her head, he kissed up her throat to her jaw.

“This okay?” he asked.

“Very okay.” Her voice was huskier than normal, sending shivers over his skin. She closed her eyes on a throaty sigh. “You feel so good.”

He brushed her mouth with soft kisses, gratified when she tried to follow him up when he lifted his head again. “What do you want, Daisy?”

Her lips curved wryly. “More than I’m going to get. I never did get a chance to stop by the drugstore. But this is nice, too.”

Nice was not what he wanted her to feel. Over the moon and out of her mind with pleasure is what he wanted her to feel. “I did,” he admitted. “Stopped at the drugstore.”

Her eyes blinked open. “You did? Whe—” She stopped herself before she could finish asking him when. Realization flickered in her eyes and she drew a deep breath, because the only time they’d been apart was when he’d gone to the morgue. She nodded once, a grim acknowledgment. She closed her eyes again. “Thank you.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” he whispered. “I didn’t expect anything. I just figured . . . Well, I hoped we’d need them sooner or later.”

“Tonight.” Her eyes opened and he saw desperation mixed with raw yearning. “Unless you don’t want this.”

He barked out a laugh. “No, that’s not a problem.” He rolled his hips again, drawing a gasp from her lips. “In case you didn’t notice.”

She arched into him again, her eyes drifting closed. “I noticed.” She hummed more. “I totally noticed and I want this. I want you. Inside me. Is that clear enough?”

His hips jerked, a groan rumbling from his chest. “God. Yes. That’s plenty clear.” He pressed a hard kiss to her now-smiling mouth. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” He knelt between her legs, not wanting to tear his eyes away from the sight of her body, spread out before him. Her nipples had grown hard and were now starkly visible through the camisole that would have been completely modest otherwise. Her hips undulated, lifting to where he’d been seconds earlier. Where he couldn’t wait to get back to.

Forcing himself from the bed, he dug in his duffel until he found the box of condoms. Hands trembling, he ripped at the plastic, then at the top of the box, sending strips of condoms.

Behind him, she laughed, a purely joyful sound that he hadn’t heard nearly often enough. She eyed the strip he’d snatched in midair, one brow lifting. “I’m not sure if that’s optimistic or ambitious, Gideon.”

He looked at the strip of three in his hand and grinned. “A little bit of both?” He tossed them to the nightstand and started to take off his shirt, but she scrambled to kneel at the edge of the mattress, stopping him.

“Hold on. I want to do it.” Then she surprised him by switching on the lamp. “I want to see you.”

God. He fisted his hands at his sides so that he didn’t rush her. “Okay.”

She came up on her knees, her teeth biting into her lower lip as she pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. She made a sound of appreciation as she looked at him for long seconds that had him growing even harder.

“Touch me,” he managed in a guttural voice that he didn’t recognize as his own, shuddering when her hands spread out over his skin, caressing him with a slow reverence that tested his control. She dragged her fingertips through the hair on his chest, tracing the wings of the phoenix tattoo before following the line of hair to the waistband of his sweats.

He sucked in a breath when her seeking finger dipped below his sweats and the boxer briefs he wore beneath. “Daisy,” he rasped.