“You’re not fine. You love him, and he’s hurting.”
I did. I hated that he was shutting me out. But I’d tried and failed. I just hoped Rowe would have better luck at getting through to him.
The TV interrupted with a news bulletin, and Heath and I both tensed as the reporter stared down the lens of the camera. Heath’s mug shot flashed up on the screen to her right. “Days after the escape at Saint View Prison, convicted murderer, Heath Michaelson, remains on the run. He’s thought to be armed and dangerous. If spotted, the general public is warned not to approach but to call the police immediately.”
“I’m armed and dangerous now? Great.” He put his head down, but not before I saw the flash of despair in his gaze.
I dropped the rug and let it unroll itself the rest of the way while I stalked across the room to Heath’s side. I pressed my fingers to his arm. “This isn’t forever. Something will turn up. We just need one thing to go our way.”
He moved out of my grasp. “It’s fine.”
“You’re about as fine as I am.”
He sighed and sat hard on the rug. He ran his fingers through the soft woven fibers. “This is really nice by the way. Good choice.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“You buy this with our conversation in mind?” He was referring to when he and Rowe had promised to get naked with me, if only we had somewhere to do it. He gazed up from his spot on the floor and then held a hand out.
I threaded my fingers through his, and he tugged me down to sit beside him. He leaned in and kissed the side of my neck.
“I see what you’re doing, Michaelson.”
“You see nothing. Your eyes are closed.”
I smiled beneath the touch of his lips to mine because he was right. They had fluttered closed the moment he’d touched me. I couldn’t help it. My body was so incredibly responsive to his. To all of them.
“Rowe isn’t here…” The words came out as light and feathery as my breath.
Heath kissed a trail across my collarbone, his stubbly beard scratching over my skin. I dropped my head back, giving him better access.
“Liam isn’t either, but you snooze, you lose.”
I cracked up laughing.
Heath looked up from undoing the top button of my shirt. “Don’t need either of them to make you smile. Nothing is better than that, sweetheart.” He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Except making you scream.”
His fingers worked the rest of my buttons free, and he gently pushed aside the material, exposing the lace of my bra. He sucked in a breath. “Do you know how often I thought about you while I was inside?”
I shook my head.
“Too often. I spent half my time hating myself for being so blind, back when we were friends.”
“You were with someone else. It wasn’t the right time.”
“It wasn’t,” he agreed. “But then that night after the bar, before everything went to shit…”
“We were drunk.”
“I still wanted you.”
The night I’d seen him at the bar for the first time in years, when my old crush had lit up like an inferno, had been the start of everything. Both good and bad. “You don’t regret it?” I asked quietly.
He glanced up from trailing his lips across the swell of my breasts. “Regret what?”
“Coming home with me that night. If you’d just walked away, let me go home alone, you wouldn’t have been there when…” I still struggled to talk about it. “When Jayela died. None of this would have happened. You’d be off living your life somewhere, probably happy with a new girlfriend—”
“No. I wouldn’t be. Because that night was it for me, too. You weren’t the only one who felt the connection. It hit me like a fucking freight train. I couldn’t have walked away. Not then. Not now. Especially not now, after everything you’ve done for me.”
I let out a soft breath. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. You don’t.”
He ran his nose down my cleavage. “I owe you an orgasm.”
I laughed into his neck, inhaling the all-man smell of him. His scent soothed its way into my soul, putting a balm on my worries about Liam and Tori. He was here, and that was something. There were odds stacked against us, but he wasn’t behind bars with a corrupt judge ready to walk him down death row herself.
“I did spring you from prison. That’s gotta be good for at least one orgasm.”
“You went above and beyond. Probably owe you at least three orgasms, huh?”
“Why lowball it?”
He undid my bra clasp and freed my breasts. They hung full and heavy, straining for his touch. He took greedy handfuls, pushing me back to the rug, the soft wool at my back as perfect for sex as I’d hoped it would be. My shoulders sank into the thick fabric, cradling me while Heath put his mouth to my nipple.
He dragged his teeth gently around it, sucking and licking me as he went. His fingers worked my other breast, teasing the nipple into a taut peak, and squeezing it in time with the draws of his mouth.
He stayed there so long, I squirmed beneath him, desperately fighting to widen my legs, but my skirt wouldn’t allow it. “Heath,” I moaned. I gave him a gentle shove, encouraging him to move lower to where I really wanted him, but the man would not be swayed. He kissed his way slowly across my belly, grabbing my hand when I tried to reach around him to lift my skirt.
“Stay still,” he whispered. “I haven’t had the chance to kiss every inch of you yet.”
I stopped fighting him. He was right. We’d had that night in his cell, but that had been hot and fast and demanding. And then the night with Liam, but Heath clearly needed more than a physical release. He lowered my skirt, taking my panties with him and discarding them somewhere behind him. He mapped out my body with his fingers, his tongue, and after he pulled off his clothes, he marked me with his body. Skin to skin, he covered me, staring into my eyes, never looking away for even an instant.
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, Mae,” he murmured.
“What about Rowe?”