CHAPTER 29
ZACH WOKE THE next morning to find Natalie curled up against him, her head resting on his chest, one of her legs tucked between his. The sheets were tangled around their legs, leaving the creamy curve of her hip bare. He watched her sleep, his body relaxed, his mind blissfully empty.
A part of him hated himself for breaking down like that in front of her again. This time he’d fallen completely the hell apart. He’d cried, for God’s sake, shed actual freaking tears. What kind of man acted like that?
But Natalie hadn’t turned away from him in disgust. She hadn’t been repulsed by him. Just as she’d done in Altar, she’d caught the pieces of him, held them in her arms, then helped him put himself back together.
I love you, Zach McBride. You’re not alone in this anymore. You fought for me. I’m going to fight for you—even if the one I have to fight is you.
He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve that, to deserve love from a woman like Natalie.
She was right when she’d called him a chicken.
He was afraid of so many things. Losing himself to nightmares and alcohol.
Failing at his mission and letting Cárdenas kill again.
Being unworthy of the trust his country had placed in him.
But what frightened him most at this moment was the very real possibility that he’d fallen in love with Natalie.
He stroked her hair, made room for her when she snuggled deeper into his chest, cherishing the feel of her soft body against his.
And for a moment he let himself imagine that this was how every day of his life began—with her sleeping naked beside him, the scent of sex still lingering on their skin, a feeling of contentment inside him.
They’d get up, make love in the shower, have breakfast together, kiss each other good-bye, the promise of home getting them through the day.
And then that night, or one just like it, you’d come home in a body bag—or a pizza box. Great idea, McBride.
God knew he didn’t want to do that to her. She’d already lost everyone she loved. And yet most of the DUSMs he knew had families. Was it so wrong to work a dangerous job and to have a family, too?
Being a deputy U.S. marshal shouldn’t mean you don’t get to have a life.
Isn’t that what Natalie had said to him in Altar?
He tried to imagine himself as a husband, a father. It didn’t seem as impossible as it had even a week ago. Of course, the only condom he’d worn had broken, which meant that he might already be on his way from here to paternity, whether he could imagine being a father or not.
What are you going to do if you’ve gotten her pregnant, buddy?
He wasn’t going to worry about that now.
He looked down at her beautiful face, a tangled knot of emotions swelling inside his chest—longing, protectiveness, doubt, possessiveness, hope.
He held her tighter, the feel of her precious.
And for a time, he lay there, listening to her breathe, inhaling the stillness, wishing he could stay like this forever.
But, of course, he couldn’t. He needed to check in with Rowan, find out where she planned to transfer Quintana, and get back to interrogating the son of a bitch. He glanced over to check the alarm clock, his gaze falling on Natalie’s photograph of Beau.
A good-looking young guy with dark brown hair, a solid build, and an easy smile, Beau looked into the camera, unaware that his life was about to end, the love he felt for Natalie unmistakable in his eyes,
Zach understood why Beau had braved the flooded, debris-strewn streets of New Orleans to come for her.
He knew what Beau must have felt when he’d heard that she’d almost been murdered—shock, seething rage, a bone-deep need to protect and comfort her.
And he knew that Beau’s last thought must have been of her.
Zach met Beau’s gaze, found himself whispering to a dead man. “I’d die for her, too.”
NATALIE WOKE TO the delicious feeling of kisses trailing down her back, Zach’s big hand caressing the bare curve of her hip. “Mmm.”
“You’re finally awake.” His hand slid in delicious circles upward along her side and around front to cup her breast. His skilled fingers teased her nipple, pinched it, tugged it, his touch sending sparks deep into her belly. “Good.”
She could smell on his minty breath that he’d already been up and had brushed his teeth. She wanted to do the same. Reluctantly, she drew away. “Hold that thought.”
She climbed out of bed, walked naked into the beautiful marble bathroom, the tiles cool against her feet. She grabbed her toothbrush and quickly brushed, holding her hair back as she rinsed her mouth. She finished, set her toothbrush aside, then turned toward the door—and froze.
Still naked, he stood in the doorway, his gaze sliding intimately over her, his erection standing against his belly, his testicles hanging full and heavy beneath. There was something deeply primal about his aroused body, about the heat in his eyes, about the way he watched her.
He walked slowly toward her. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
Beautiful.
That’s how she would describe him—beautiful, erotic, so powerfully male.
She met him halfway, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed him, her arms sliding behind his neck. He groaned, his tongue greeting hers.
And then she got an idea—a silly, naughty, exciting idea.
Suppressing her own laughter, she deliberately turned them in a slow-motion waltz until her back was toward the door. Slowly, she stepped back from him, smiled up at him from beneath her eyelashes—then turned and ran.
She dashed toward the bed, jumped in, and scuttled to the far side, looking back to find him watching her, a predatory gleam in his eyes now. Excitement shivered through her, the thrill of being pursued making her pulse trip.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He walked in slow strides toward her, his muscles shifting. “You can’t get away from me. You know that, don’t you?”
Quashing the giggle that welled up inside her, she drew back against the headboard, curling her legs beneath her, covering her bare breasts with her hands, her heart pounding harder as he drew near.
“Why are you covering yourself?” He stopped at the edge of the bed. “I’m going to see it all, touch it all, taste it all. I’m going to do whatever I want with your sweet body, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
Then he lowered himself to one knee on the mattress.
With a squeal, Natalie leapt from the bed, but she didn’t make it far. A strong arm caught her around her waist and drew her back onto the bed. She fought just hard enough to make him use his strength, turning onto her belly, trying to crawl away.
“You think this will stop me?” He laughed, a dark masculine sound. “Save your strength. You’re going to need it.”
His weight pinned her to the bed. Powerful thighs pressed against her hips as he straddled her from behind, forcing her legs tightly together.
He caught her wrists, drew her arms behind her back, one of his hands holding them there while the other grasped one of her buttocks, spreading her, exposing her to his view.
It was a position of utter submission, one that gave him total power over her and left her no means to resist.
But she wasn’t willing to surrender yet. She twisted and writhed, the thrill of being overpowered more arousing than she could have imagined. Then she felt the head of his cock rub against her labia. Liquid heat gathered inside her, her body longing for him, even as she pretended to resist.
“I can see everything—those sexy, bare outer lips . . . the pink edges of your sweet inner lips . . . And this . . .” His thumb brushed over a part of her no man had ever touched, the sensation both alarming and arousing, and for a moment she was afraid he planned to penetrate her there.
She gasped, shocked.
But he didn’t enter her there. Instead, he nudged the thick head of his cock between her labia and thrust deep, his groan drowning out the sound of her whimper.
With her legs held together like this, there seemed to be no room inside her.
She could feel every inch of his steel-hard cock as he moved, from the engorged head that almost touched her cervix, to the thick base that stretched and stroked her sensitive entrance, to the taut skin of his testicles as they brushed her labia.
She moaned, bit a pillow, lost in the heat of these intense, new sensations.
She’d never believed all that G-spot hype, never believed that a woman could climax through penetration alone.
But now she knew she’d been wrong, his thrusts caressing some secret place inside her, the ache unbearable and sweet.
She whimpered and panted into the pillow, desperate for release.
She wanted to raise her bottom, to spread her legs, to do something to bring the sweet torment to an end, but she couldn’t move.
Helpless to do anything but take him, she was left hanging on the edge of an orgasm that seemed to hover just beyond her reach.
Then, when it seemed she could take no more, the tension inside her drew to its full height like a great shimmering wave and crashed over her, carrying her helplessly along as it surged through her, drowning her in pleasure.
She cried out, arching back, Zach’s sure strokes making her pleasure last until she lay, weak and panting, her face against a pillow.
He released her wrists and withdrew from her, pressing kisses along her back. Then gently he turned her onto her back, catching her legs and settling himself between them. It was then she realized he hadn’t yet come, his erection lying hard against her.
But when she opened her eyes, it wasn’t lust or playfulness she saw on his face, but a look of tenderness and torment, his brow furrowed, his gaze soft, his lips parted, his breathing still fast.
He smoothed the hair off her face, his gaze traveling over her features. For a moment, she thought he had something to tell her. But when at last he spoke, it was only to say her name. “Natalie.”