Alexandra staggered out of the hospital, her eyes widening upon seeing the truck. Walking as if she’d aged overnight, she skirted mud puddles, allowing the rain to pummel her short hair.
Upon reaching the truck, she opened the door and groaned while jumping inside. “Bernie is out of the coma, and the doctors are cautiously optimistic.”
“And Masterson?” Kell asked, igniting the engine.
“He’s fine.” Alexandra rubbed her nose. “He doesn’t have any family. None at all. Not even a girlfriend to call.” She sounded so bewildered and lonely that Kell reached out and covered her free hand with his.
“I don’t have a line on the witch yet, but I will. I promise.” It wasn’t the time to discuss her moving to Ireland as his mate and being safe, but that time was nearing. “Any news on the human shooter?”
She shook her head. “Patrol officers are still interviewing witnesses, but it was so dark in there, so far, nobody has been helpful. There’s a hotline. Spike is a mid-level dealer, so we should have him in custody soon. Hopefully if we get him in the box, we can make him explain why he shot Donny. We also need to convince him to roll on the witch. I want that bastard.”
So did Kell. He drove through nearly empty streets while dawn tried to break through the storm.
Alexandra leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m not feeling very warm toward witches right now, Kellach.”
“If you hadn’t mated a witch, you wouldn’t have been able to save your partner,” he countered without any heat. And if she hadn’t mated him, he’d be facing a future he hadn’t realized was lonely and bleak until right that moment.
“That’s true,” she mumbled.
That was his woman. Even pissed off and exhausted, she was fair. Always fair. He rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand as he drove across town to his flat. She deserved a luxury shower and bed, and she sure as hell wouldn’t get that at her crappy apartment. Maybe if he just moved all her clothes over, she wouldn’t protest too much. Her days of living in squalor were over, whether she liked it or not.
He drove into the underground garage and cut the engine before stretching out and turning his senses into those of a predator. No threatening sounds or smells nearby.
Quiet pounded as he went around, opened her door, and gathered his mate into his arms. For once, she didn’t protest, and snuggled right in to his chest.
His instant grin warmed him throughout. The woman was exhausted.
He carried her up the stairs to his penthouse, opening the door and taking her immediately to the master bath to set her on her feet. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” She leaned against him, her eyes still closed.
He twisted the shower on to warm and removed her clothing, surprised when she didn’t even make a token protest. The night had not only exhausted her physically but emotionally, it seemed.
Taking off his clothes, he steered her into the steam and under the water.
She groaned, one hand flattening on the stone tiles, her head lowering as the water beat down.
Slowly, showing her she could be cherished, he washed and rinsed her hair before turning to her body.
He flared alive in need but kept his touch gentle and reassuring. When he’d rinsed away the soap, he turned off the water and stepped out into the room. Tucking her in a towel, he dried her hair with another towel and grabbed her a worn T-shirt to wear.
She mumbled something, her hands slicking along his bare chest.
Desire heated through him, deep and beyond the moment. He dragged on some boxers and herded her into his sprawling bed, tucking them both in.
She rolled toward him, and her hand whispered along his unshaven jaw. The gentle touch moved past his skin and between muscles, wrapping around his heart. “Kellach,” she whispered.
The tone licked down his spine to caress his balls. “Go to sleep, little warrior. We can talk later today.”
She blinked and scooted closer, vulnerability and need darkening her eyes. “Don’t want to talk. Want to feel.”
His mouth lifted. That, he could give to her. He rolled her over onto her back and kissed her, keeping his touch gentle, and his movements lazy. Showing her again that she meant something to him, that the moment was about her.
She caressed his shoulders, her movements slow.
He kissed along her neck to her breasts, where he suckled. She gasped, arching against him, her heated core caressing his cock.
“Now, Kell,” she murmured.
He had no problem helping her get lost in passion to forget the pain of the day, but he was taking his time and ensuring she was ready. He played with her breasts, reverently kissing them, taking their lovemaking slow.
His fingers tapped down over her undulating abdominal muscles to reach her clit.
She gasped and rolled her hips.
He moved lower and fingered her slit. Wet and ready. At the feeling, his balls drew up tight.
“Now,” she said again.