Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
H unt saw Vander, Killian, and Ace out.
It was Saturday, but he still needed to get to work to check in on how their own search for Andrew Walkson was progressing.
With Norcross Security, Sentinel Security, and the SFPD searching for the man, there was no way the asshole could stay hidden forever.
Vander was going to send Rome Nash, his best bodyguard, over to stay with Savannah. But first, Hunt needed to take his woman’s temperature. Make sure she was dealing with Killian’s revelations.
If Walkson was responsible for a slew of murders of young women, then Hunt wouldn’t mind seeing the man get the death penalty. Shame there was a moratorium on it.
He headed into the living room. Savannah was at the window, staring out at the city, her arms wrapped around herself.
He walked toward her.
“I’m okay,” she said quickly.
“You’re not.”
She whirled. “All right, I’m not, but I’ll get there.
Eventually.” Her eyes sparked. “That asshole!” She threw her arms up.
“How dare he think he has the right to terrorize me, destroy my life, but even worse, to take the lives of innocent women. Amelia, all these girls that Killian mentioned—” her voice hitched “—I keep asking myself why. What could I have done differently to avoid this?”
“Nothing, baby.” Hunt grabbed her arms. “Nothing. Bad people do bad things every day. Bad things happen every day. Unfortunately, they can happen to good people. You’re entitled to be mad, and sad, and angry.
I understand. I stood far from home, sweating in a godforsaken desert, dodging bullets, and saw good men die.
At first, I would rage and try to find reasons so it made some sort of sense. ”
Now she wrapped her arms around him. His sweet, giving Savannah.
“But it makes no sense. It never will. So, we pick ourselves up, we deal the best way we can. If you wallow, it’ll drag you down and swallow you whole.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be.” He scooped her up and sat on the couch. “You’re entitled to your feelings.”
“But I’m only thinking of myself—”
“Again, in this situation, you’re entitled.”
She cupped his cheek. “I wasn’t thinking of you. You’ve dealt with death and killers. You still do.”
“I try to remember the people I help. The bad guys I lock away.”
She snuggled into him, and he felt it in his chest. Damn, he liked that.
It was a sign that she was trusting him, and he knew the years had conditioned her to not trust anyone.
He ran a hand down her hair.
“You’re going to catch Walkson,” she said.
He met her gaze. “Yes, I am. Whatever it takes.”
“I want to help. I need to help.”
Hunt’s muscles locked. The thought of her anywhere near Andrew Walkson made him revolt. “Savannah—”
She scrambled up. “Whatever I can do to help. I could help with searches.”
“You can help by staying safe.” He rose and pulled her around to face him.
“Hunter, I know him. I know how he works.” She took a deep breath. “He wants me. You could use me as bait—”
“Absolutely not.” Hunt gripped her arms. “There will be no baiting the stalker-slash-serial killer.”
“I need to do something .”
He stared into her pleading eyes and blew out a breath. Dammit .
“We’ll work something out.”
She beamed up at him, then went up on her toes and kissed him. “Thank you.” Then she fidgeted a little.
He’d learned enough about her to know what that meant. “Need to sketch?”
She nodded.
“Get your sketchbook, baby. I need to change.”
“Change?”
“I need to head to the station and follow up on some things.”
She hissed out a sharp breath. “But you were shot . There’s a madman after you.”
“Vander’s sending his best bodyguard, Rome, to stay with you.”
She bit her lip.
Hunt hated seeing the fear in her eyes. “Rome’s good, Savannah. He’ll—”
“It’s not that. Who’s your bodyguard?”
Hunt’s brows snapped together. “I’m a cop. I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“Walkson had you shot!” She spun away.
“Hey.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I’ll take precautions. I know what I’m doing.” Gently, he bit her earlobe.
She shuddered. “I don’t want to lose you, Hunter.”
“You won’t.” He kissed her neck.
She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t want anyone else hurt.”
“It’s going to be fine.” His phone chimed. With difficulty, he pulled himself away from her and checked it. “Rome’s on his way up.”
Savannah grabbed her sketchbook and nodded.
Hunt met Rome at the elevator. The bodyguard was big, broad, with brown skin, and deep-green eyes.
“Hunt.”
“Rome.” He shook the man’s hand.
Rome Nash exuded a calm, watchful vibe that made him so good at his job.
“Thanks for coming. Savannah’s a bit shaken up, but she’s tough.”
Rome lifted his chin. “I’ll take care of her.”
“How’s your princess?”
Rome’s smile flashed white. “Keeping me on my toes.”
On a previous job, Rome had fallen in love with Princess Sofia of Caldova. Sofie had surprisingly slotted into the Norcross gang quickly and easily. The princess also didn’t hide how much she loved her fiancé.
“Come and I’ll introduce you to Savannah,” Hunt said.
She was on her knees at the coffee table, sketching, her hand moving fast. She looked up, blinked. She was totally lost in her work already.
Then her gaze snagged on Rome and she blinked again.
“Can I sketch you?” Then she shook her head and stood. “Sorry, I’m still in the zone.”
Rome smiled. “I’m Rome Nash.”
She held out her hand. “Savannah.”
“Listen to Rome, and stay out of trouble,” Hunt said.
Her nose wrinkled. “Damn, and here I was thinking of running around the streets. You’ve crushed my plans.”
Rome gave a low chuckle.
Hunt tapped her nose. “I like it when you’re sassy.” He kissed her, and made it long and thorough.
Savannah looked a little glassy eyed. “You should come with a warning label, Detective.” Her face turned serious. “Be safe.”
“I will. I promise. See you later.”
* * *
Savannah was sitting on the floor in front of the living room windows. The late afternoon light was just right.
She’d sketched Rome—big, tall, stoic, gorgeous Rome. He’d been good company. He talked when she wanted to talk, and he stayed quiet when she got busy with her art.
She’d worked like crazy to keep herself distracted. She was working on a series of sketches of Hunter. She shaded in one image of him.
These were just for her.
She realized her neck was stiff and she stretched it. That’s when she noticed Hunt sprawled on the couch, watching her.
She jolted. “How long have you been there?”
He smiled. “Not long. I like watching you work, especially when you’re so caught up in it.”
“I didn’t even hear you arrive.” She scanned around. “Where’s Rome?”
“Gone. He said to say goodbye. Actually, he said goodbye, but you didn’t hear him, and he didn’t want to disturb you.”
She rose. “I got super inspired and lost track of time.”
He cocked his head. “I hope Rome wasn’t the cause of the sudden burst of inspiration.”
She grinned. “No. I did sketch him, looking every inch the hunky bodyguard.”
Hunt frowned.
“But someone else left me very inspired.” She held out her sketchbook.
He took it and flipped through the pages. She watched his rugged face freeze.
“I’m…naked. I never posed like this .”
She bit her lip. “Don’t worry. They’re for my eyes only.”
She leaned over. The image he was looking at showed him sprawled on the bed, naked and gorgeous. Like a big, satisfied lion.
In the next one, he was standing by the windows, naked, a glass of his beloved Blanton Gold in hand.
“I’ve never stood like this, either,” he grumbled.
“Artistic license. I have a good memory.” Especially when it came to all things Hunter Morgan.
The next image made him suck in a breath.
He was naked under the shower, side on, cock very obviously hard. She felt the burn of desire and pressed her thighs together.
“Look at the next one,” she said.
He flipped the page. He was sprawled on the very couch where he sat now, naked again, powerful thighs spread and his thick cock in hand. As he stroked, he was looking straight ahead.
He dragged in a breath. “ No one but you ever sees these.”
She nodded. “Of course.” She licked her lips, feeling desperate for him. “Although I could probably make a small fortune—”
He growled.
Savannah wanted him, she always did, but she also wanted to keep from thinking about everything.
Hunter was the perfect distraction.
“Want to help make my vision a reality, Detective?” she asked silkily.
His eyes narrowed and he tossed the sketchbook aside. “You want to see my cock, beautiful?”
Her chest hitched, and she felt a flood of dampness rush to her panties. “Yes.”
He eyed her for a beat, then unbuckled his belt. Electric tingles washed over her. Her gaze stayed locked on him as he opened his pants, then freed his cock from his boxers.
She swallowed a moan. He was already hard.
He stroked lazily. “Now, I want you to take your shorts off.”
Her skin was on fire, and she quickly flicked them open and kicked them down her legs.
“Panties next. Hand them to me.”
The deep, authoritative tone made her shiver. She hooked her fingers in the side of her panties and pushed them down.
Then she nabbed them and handed them to him.
“They’re already wet.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He pulled a condom out of his pocket, and she squirmed a little as she watched him roll it on.
“Shirt off next,” he ordered.
She yanked it off. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She felt his gaze on her, her nipples pebbling. As she watched, he gave his cock another lazy stroke.
“Touch your sweet pussy, Savannah.”
His voice was so gritty, and her belly was full of heat and flutters. She slid a hand down her belly. His green gaze stayed glued to it. She stroked through the curls at the juncture of her thighs, then she let out a little gasp.
“That’s it,” he drawled. “Stroke yourself.”
She did, feeling how wet she was. She moved up to her clit and let out a low moan.
Hunt cursed. “So damn beautiful. Look how hard you’ve made me, Savannah.”
She stared blindly. He was pumping his cock and she thought he was the beautiful one.
“Come here,” he growled. “I want you to straddle me.”
She closed the distance between them and eagerly straddled his lap.
This man, this good, solid man, had seduced her. She trusted him with everything. She knew in her bones that he’d never let her down.
She felt his hard cock beneath her. She shifted her hips, trying to get it right where she needed it.
“Uh-uh.” He squeezed her hip. “Not yet.” He took her hand, the one she’d used to touch herself, and sucked her fingers into his mouth.
Oh, God. Her belly clenched hard. Then he pulled her closer, and sucked her nipple into his mouth.
“ Hunter .” She slid her hands into his hair, holding him to her.
Savannah moaned. She was entirely pure sensation. He moved to the other side, his big hands cupping her breasts as he sucked on her nipple.
She writhed, and let out a garbled cry.
Hunt tore his mouth free. “Put me inside you, Savannah, then sink down on my cock.”
God, she’d never liked bossy men before, but these sexy orders left her panting. She grabbed his thick cock and shifted until it caught in her folds.
She bit her lip, then lowered down.
They both groaned.
Needy, hungry, she rocked on him, savoring the way he stretched her. She lifted her hips, expelling a sharp breath, then sank back down.
As always, she felt like her desire went from simmer to inferno. She rode him faster.
“No.” He gripped her hips.
She froze. “What?”
“Slower. I want to make love to you. We’ve been all fire and flash.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. He’d said the L word. Panic took flight. “I like flash and fire.”
He moved her body up, then eased her slowly back down on his cock. She moaned.
“There’s no rush, baby. I’ve got you. Just feel.”
His gaze stayed locked on hers, and he urged her into a slow rhythm.
Heat coiled inside her. This was so much more, so intimate. They were so connected.
He slipped his hand down and thumbed her clit. She jerked, but he kept her moving, slowly bumping his hips into her, filling her deeply.
“Feel that?” he murmured. “That’s you and me, baby.”
“ Hunter .” She moved a little quicker, and after another thrust, her hot, slow, strong orgasm hit her. She cried out his name.
Hunt pressed his mouth to hers. Kissing her, his body shuddered as they came together.