The Hangman (Forgotten Files Book 3)

He traced his hand along her neck, then outlined her collarbone. Each time he touched her, he was gentle, his desire securely in check. That restraint made her want him more.

She unknotted his tie, pulled it free of his collar, and tossed it on the floor. She unbuttoned his shirt, smiling when she saw the white undershirt. “My, my, Mr. Clean.”

He pulled his shirt and undershirt from his waistband but let her shrug the shirt from his shoulders. He traced a finger down her chest to the V of her sweater. He cupped her breast, and her mouth went dry.

“Where can I put my weapon?” Novak asked.

“No pun intended.” She nodded toward a dresser by the door. “I put mine in the top drawer.” She unclipped her weapon and opened the drawer.

He laid his beside hers along with his badge, phone, and cuffs. She closed the drawer and locked it. Quickly he pulled her into his arms, and she stiffened. Not a flinch, but a tensing.

He kissed her, his hands on her hips. Again, she sensed he controlled his desire. She tugged off his undershirt, smiling as she thought that Mr. Clean had a hot body.

He grabbed her hand and led her toward her bedroom. “Not so fast this time.”

She followed, wanting to feel the desire and get lost in an orgasm. She was in a rush. He wasn’t. “I thought you liked it that way.”

“I like it this way, too.” In her room he kissed her before reaching for the hem of her sweater and pulling it over her head. Gently, he traced the edge of her bra and then unfastened the snap between her breasts. He slid off the bra and lightly kissed her breasts. She pulled in a breath as she reached for the buckle of his pants and undid it. The zipper slid down, and she pushed her hand into his pants and cupped his hard erection.

He groaned as he pulled her hand away. “Taking our time, remember?”

“We can do that later.”

He shook his head. “I want to enjoy you.” He unfastened her belt, and the buckle slipped free of its sheath. The sharp tip glinted. “Surprise, surprise.”

“Never a dull moment.”

He tossed the buckle aside and slid the denim down over her slender hips. She stepped out of the pants and pushed them aside. She stood naked before him, exposed, a state that did slightly unsettle her. The last few times it had been dark, hurried, and with enough desire to crowd out fear.

Now, he wanted to go slow? Fine. He’d suffer.

She wrapped her arms around him, savoring the way the hairs on his chest teased her nipples. She shoved off his pants and heard them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them as she pulled him toward the rumpled sheets of her bed. He sat, and she crouched in front of him and slowly ran her hand along the inside of his naked thighs. She tugged off one sock, then leaned forward and kissed the inside of his leg before kissing the tip of his erection. He sucked in a breath, burying his hands in her long hair and gripping it in a tight fist. She pulled back and removed the second sock.

“You said slow,” she said.

“Taking off socks will never be the same.”

She licked the inside of the other leg and ran her tongue hungrily along his erection. When he groaned, she did it again before she pushed him back on the bed, straddling him. She brushed against his erection but only enough to tease. They were going slow after all, as he wanted.

She licked his nipple and then kissed him on the lips, skimming her hand over his flat belly.

He placed his hands on her bare hips. “You’re going to make me regret slow.”

“Your choice, not mine.”

With a grumble, he rolled her on her back. “Next time, we will go slower. Right now, I can’t get enough of you.”

For an instant, she lost the sense of control and tensed. Cold fear threatened to extinguish the fire. He hesitated. Strong fingers caressed her clitoris in small circles as he kissed her on the lips. Round and round he went, coaxing the sparks into a flame. She relaxed back into the pillows and groaned.

He nudged his knee between her legs. “Open for me.”

She didn’t hesitate and spread her legs. He pressed his erection just inside her. She was wet and tight, but having him close still tugged at bad memories. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands over his back, grabbing his buttocks and trying to hang on to her desire. Her throat tightened with tension as the beauty of this moment slipped away.

He thrust fully inside her now, kissing her on the lips. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay with me. Open your eyes.”

She gripped his shoulders and opened her eyes. She met his gaze, dark with longing but with no traces of anger.

“It’s you and me,” he said. “No past. Only right now.”

She nodded, hating the tears that welled in her eyes and spilled over the side of her cheeks.

“I can stop,” he whispered.

“No. Don’t.”

He moved inside of her and began to rub her center. Slowly, desire flashed and urgency returned. She tipped her hips toward him and ground into his palm as he slid in and out at a steady rhythm. Heat flared. Her body built toward the sweet release she realized she now needed from him. And then in a blink, an explosion washed over her, and she gripped his back. He shoved deeper into her, and they both came.

When he collapsed against her, his heart thumped quick and hard, matching her own beat for beat. Absently, she traced her hand over his back, now slick with sweat.

“Not bad, old soul.”

He grinned against the hollow of her neck. “Like to think I have moves.”

“You do.”

He rose up on his elbows and pushed back her hair from her face. “You okay?”

“More than okay.”

“You tensed again.”

She’d shared her body, but feelings were a whole different matter.

“You can talk to me.”

She tried to wriggle free and thought he might hold her too close, but he rolled on his side and let her put distance between them. She didn’t go as far this time, choosing to stay on her back, inches from him.

He traced circles around the delicate lines of a scroll tattoo inked above her hip bone. “When did you get this?”

She smiled. “Spring break. Junior year of college. Made sense at the time.”

“Sexy.” His fingers moved over her flat belly to a scar by her left breast. “What happened?”

“Part of my adventures in Virginia Beach with Benny.”

“You can talk to me about it.”

Instead of answering, she rolled to her side and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She searched the floor for her shirt. Now that the desire had burned itself out, her skin cooled and she was feeling too exposed. When she moved to stand, he grabbed her wrist. Not an unbreakable hold, but firm enough to let her know he wanted her to stay. Because she had a choice, she stayed.

“You’re always running,” he said. “I can feel your heart racing.”

A sigh leaked over her lips. “Cindy says I’ve been on the move since I was a small kid.”

“Where are you running to now?”

“To get my shirt. I’m cold.”

“Not away from the question?”

“That, too.”

He released his grip, shifted his weight under the covers, and held up the blanket for her.