Chapter 22 #2
She pressed her fingers against her temples, willing the thoughts to align, to slot into place with the cool precision of a puzzle snapping together.
She could tie Mark Bitterson to the Elk Hollow police officials.
She could tie them to Tyler Griggs. The same officials had investigated Dr. Liu’s death, and the lab hovered in their shadow like a ghost she couldn’t shake.
But none of that explained why Mark Bitterson had tried to run her off the road.
Why was there a sniper after her?
She leaned back, eyes fixating on the flickering fire, its flames curling like questions she couldn’t quite extinguish. The heat seeped into her, but her blood remained icy, her thoughts darting from one possibility to the next.
Nothing added up. She was still missing something. The connections were there, hidden beneath layers of secrets and agendas she hadn’t yet unraveled.
But she would. So far, two people had been shot just standing too close to her. As she looked again outside, not seeing Huck, her heart rate increased. She couldn’t get him killed.
Hands curled over her shoulders, and she jumped, yelping.
Laurel startled at the sudden pressure of Huck’s hands on her shoulders, his grip firm, unyielding. His heat seeped through her shirt, rough fingers on her skin as he leaned down, his breath warm against her ear.
“Enough, Laurel.” His voice was a low tenor that sent her nerves sparking. “You’ve been tearing yourself up all day. Let’s give that big brain of yours a break.”
She stiffened, her fingers frozen midtype over her laptop. “I can’t just stop, Huck. You know that.”
He made a sound, something between a grunt and a growl. “Yeah, well. Challenge accepted.” His grip shifted, hands sliding under her arms and pulling her to her feet with one swift, graceful motion. The world tilted as he lifted her out of the chair, her body colliding with his chest.
“What are you—”
“Taking care of you.” Huck’s eyes were dark, wild, his mouth forming a smile. “You need to get out of your own head, and we’re doing this my way.”
Her pulse kicked up, a heady mix of intrigue and excitement buzzing through her veins. She should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve snapped something sharp and cutting. “You have a way?” But his hands were already on her waist, hot and demanding.
“Yeah. I think I do.” His mouth crashed down on hers, his lips rough, searing. All the frustration, the tension that had been gnawing at her bones melted away under the force of his kiss.
“Huck—”
He kissed her harder, swallowing her protest. Her fists clenched in his shirt, and the fabric twisted between her fingers as his tongue slid against hers, hot and demanding.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, her lungs seizing when he finally let her pull back for air.
“What I should’ve done hours ago.” His hands slid to her hips, his grin turning wicked. “Dragging you out of your mind.”
His fingers dug into her waist, and then she was moving, stumbling backward as he guided her to the couch. Her knees hit the edge, and he didn’t give her a chance to protest before he pushed her down, his weight following her like an avalanche.
“You think you can just—”
“Yeah.” His mouth found hers again, unbelievably tempting. “I can.”
Her head spun and the world narrowed to nothing but the heat of Huck’s body pressing into her, his hands roaming over her like he couldn’t decide where to touch first. “Well, all right,” she whispered.
His fingers slipped beneath her shirt, dragging the material up over her head with a single, smooth motion. The fabric hit the floor, forgotten. “Laurel, you drive me insane.”
“Good,” she shot back, her voice ragged, her hands yanking at his shirt. “I like you slightly off-kilter.”
His laugh was a rough, broken sound, his eyes blazing as she pushed his shirt over his head.
Then his skin was against hers, hot and hard and everything she could ever want.
“Off-kilter, huh?” he ground out, his mouth trailing down her neck, his stubble scraping against her skin in a way that made her entire body clench.
“You seem to be concentrating just fine,” she managed, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
“I’m doing my best.” His mouth moved lower, his lips closing over her collarbone. “I love having you right here. At my place. Safe and within touching distance.” His hands slid to her jeans, popping the button with a rough flick.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her hips lifting involuntarily as he tugged her jeans down, his eyes locked on hers with that predatory gleam that always left her pulse thrumming. “You’re incredibly sexy.”
His grin flashed then. “You’re a sweetheart, Snow.” He tested her with two fingers.
Yes, she was wet and ready for him. The captain knew how to get her breathless. His hands were already sliding over her thighs, his mouth descending on hers again, hot and demanding.
He kissed her like he wanted both of them to forget the world, his hands moving with the same kind of reckless hunger. Every touch burned, every brush of his skin against hers left her gasping. Slowly, he eased inside her, taking his time.
“Huck,” she whispered.
“You keep saying my name like that, and I’ll make sure you can’t say anything at all,” he growled, his fingers digging into her hips, dragging her closer.
She liked this side of him. Maybe too much. Her legs wrapped around him on instinct, her body arching against his. “Is that a promise?”
He laughed, the sound dark and dangerous. “I’ll give you any promise you want.” Then he started to move. Slowly at first and then with strength.
She didn’t care that the couch was old and creaky. Didn’t care that their clothes were tangled around their legs like some kind of twisted snare. She only cared about the way Huck’s hands were on her, his mouth tracing fire along her skin.
She clung to him, her fingers clawing at his back as he moved against her, the pressure building with a brutal intensity she hadn’t even known she was craving. How did he bring this out of her?
“There you go,” Huck rasped against her ear. “Forget everything but this.”
“I’m trying.” Her voice broke, the words splintering as he thrust deeper, his mouth hot against her throat.
“No trying.” His teeth scraped along her skin, his voice a feral growl. “Just doing.”
Her entire body arched, the world tilting as the sensation slammed into her. She cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the tension snapped, white-hot pleasure crashing over her in waves.
“Laurel . . .” His own voice was rough, strained, his body locking up as he followed her over the edge.
They collapsed together, Huck’s weight pressing her into the cushions, his breath ragged against her neck. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, harsh and uneven.
Finally, Huck lifted his head, his eyes glittering. “You back with me now?”
Laurel blinked, her mind still struggling to catch up. “What?”
His grin was lazy, satisfied. “I told you I’d pull you out of that head of yours. You’re welcome.”
She laughed, her body feeling lighter. “You’re a dangerous man.”
“Not to you, Laurel Snow.”
Laurel didn’t argue. Because he was right.