Mine To Hold (16 page)

It wasn’t that simple. “I have no control. I
lose myself when we’re together, and I-I just want more and more.”
More of his heat. More of the pleasure. More of the pretense that
she wasn’t broken beyond repair.

“Ask, Claire,” he growled out that
command.

“Can any obsession be healthy?” Because she
felt obsessed with him. “Do they all have to end in fear and
darkness?”

“
I’m not him.
”

He and Ethan looked different. Night and day.
But that same, dark intensity was there, just beneath the skin.

Only Noah isn’t twisted.

His eyes blazed right through her. Saw right
through her.

In that moment, Claire thought she could see
through him, too. Past the veneer of the polished businessman.
Right to his core. Darkness and light, all tangled together. Not
perfect. Not evil. Not good.

“Ask,” he whispered. His expression was
stark.

“I want to be with you again,” she said.
Maybe it was just for tonight. Maybe what they had together would
last longer. But she wasn’t going to think of a future then.

She refused to think of the past.

“Make love to me?” No, no, that was wrong. It
wasn’t about love. Obsession wasn’t love. She was sure of that. She
got obsession. She didn’t get love.

He pulled her into his arms. Kissed her deep
and hard, and the chill slid from her skin. The hands that had been
so brutal on the PI were gentle against her. There was so much
power in his body, but he kept it ruthlessly restrained when he was
with her.

He kept his control.

For me?

His hands slid over her back. Caressing.
Seeming to scorch her through the t-shirt. Then he yanked that
t-shirt up. He tossed it across the room. Her bra followed it.

Her breasts were so sensitive they ached. The
nipples were tight and flushed. Noah lifted her up, and he took one
nipple into his mouth.

She felt arousal flood her sex. His strength
was such a turn-on. That much power, leashed.

Controlled.
In that moment, Claire
realized that she didn’t need control. Noah had it.

And she had him.

He carried her toward the bed. That big,
sprawling bed that was perfect for sex. A sturdy, wrought-iron bed.
He hadn’t taken another lover there. He’d told her she was the only
one to come to this place.

He put her on the bed. Pulled away her jeans
and underwear. “I could devour you,” he said as his gaze slid down
her body. The gold of his eyes turned molten when he stared at the
juncture between her legs.

His hands went to the snap of his jeans.

Claire rose then, pushing up quickly. “I
need
to taste you.” Her fingers tangled with his. “I want
to.” He was all about her asking so she did. “Can I taste you?”

“Claire…” There was a sensual warning in her
name.

That warning just aroused her more. “I’ve
never…” Her fingers pulled from his. Her knees sank into the
mattress. “I’ve never done this, and I want to taste you. I want
you to be the first.”

“The only.” His voice had deepened and
hardened with possession.

Claire eased down his zipper. The hiss seemed
so loud in the silence of the room.

He put his hands behind his back. “Take me,”
he told her.

Her heart pounded in a double-time rhythm.
Excitement and nervousness both surged through her as she slid off
the bed. Her knees brushed over the carpet as she knelt before
him.

His aroused flesh sprang toward her. Long and
full. Hard and hot. She stroked him at first, her touch tentative.
She wasn’t sure what he’d like, and this was important—giving him
as much pleasure as he’d given her was vitally important.

His hands were still behind his back.

He wasn’t touching her. She was the one
touching. The one with power?

Claire leaned forward. Her lips skimmed over
his erection, and his cock jerked beneath her mouth.

“Take me in…” Noah growled out the sensual
command.

Claire’s lips parted. She took the head of
his cock into her mouth. She licked. Sucked. Savored. Slowly, still
so hesitant, she began to move. To take more. To find a rhythm that
had him groaning.

And had her arousal deepening.

She liked the way he tasted. Liked the way he
hardened impossibly more beneath her mouth and she—

Claire was on her back in the bed.

Noah was over her. He had her wrists pinned
to the bed. Damn but that man had moved
fast.

He stared at her, locked his gaze with
her—and
took
her. He filled her, every inch, and she gasped
as the pleasure surged through her.

Her legs curled around his. She arched up
against him.

He plunged. Fast. Hard. Deep.

Claire wanted to match his rhythm, but…he
felt so
good.
Every thrust sent his cock gliding right over
her clit, and the sensation was incredible. Powerful and hot.

His grip tightened around her wrists. “I can
feel you…feel everything…” Noah groaned the words. “Should
stop…tell me to stop.”

No, she never wanted him to stop. “More.”

He thrust even harder. Deeper.

She could feel all of him.

All.

Noah was trying to pull away.

No condom.

She didn’t want to lose him. Didn’t want to
lose that moment. “I’m clean,” she whispered. No diseases. No
lovers, not until him.

“So…am I.” Noah thrust again.

Claire was lost. She shattered beneath him as
the pleasure slammed through her. Not some gentle wave. An
avalanche that stole her breath and had her quaking.

And Noah was there. He thrust into her once
more, the hot surge of his climax filling her, and her legs locked
tightly around his hips. She held him as fiercely as she could.

In that moment, Claire realized that she’d
crossed a line. For her, there’d be no going back.

She’d lived in the darkness for years, and
now, finally, she could see the light.

***

Gwen Lazlo was bone-tired when she shoved
open the door to her apartment and dropped her bag on the floor.
Her flight had landed in D.C. less than an hour ago, and the sun
still hadn’t risen above the sky.

She stumbled forward in the darkness. She
wanted to crash in bed. Bed was the goal. Bed was—

Warm hands slid around her stomach and she
was pulled back against a rock-hard chest.

“Have I mentioned,” Lane’s voice rumbled in
her ear, “how much I hate it when you’re gone?”

Her body melted against his. “Maybe a time or
two.” She turned in his arms. The lights were still off, and she
liked that. In the dark, he wouldn’t be able to tell how happy she
was to see him.

When did I get so attached?
Gwen made
it a habit not to get too close to anyone or anything, but Lane had
snuck right past her defenses. “Let yourself in again, huh?”

“You have seriously got to change those
locks.” His lips brushed over her neck. “Anyone could get in
here.”

Her lips curved. That was Lane. He could
always make her smile, even after her last hellish twenty-four
hours. Her fingers curled around his shoulders. “Tell me that you
made some headway on our case.”

“Um, not a damn bit.” He kissed her neck. “No
one saw anything else at the senator’s hotel, and the car from the
hit and run turned out to be stolen. It was wiped clean, no
prints.” His mouth lifted from her skin.

Her breath rushed out. She wanted that mouth
back on her.

“But at least I wasn’t ten feet away from a
car explosion.” Now his words roughened. “Do you know how much that
shit scared me when I found out what happened?”

“It was a targeted attack.” Her fingers
tightened on his shoulders. “Just aimed at taking out Ethan
Harrison.” And the two poor cops who’d been with him.

Lane grunted. “We know how easy it is for
innocents to get caught in the crossfire.”

Yes, she’d seen that too many times.

“Someone’s cleaning house,” Lane mused.

She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see the
move. “Yes.”

“You think it’s York? Because if it is…it’s
gonna be real hard pinning anything on him.”

Because he was such a power player. But power
players didn’t intimidate her. Never had. Never would. “If it’s
him, we’ll nail him.”

“Damn straight.” He lifted her into his arms,
surprising her with his strength the way he always did—the way she
loved. “But let’s leave the killers alone for a while. Right now, I
need you.”

His mouth pressed to hers.

“
I missed you, Gwen.
”

Her heart ached at his words. She’d seen so
many people killed in crimes of passion. Seen others nearly driven
to the breaking point of sanity because they’d lost someone
close.

But Gwen had never understood those powerful
emotions, not until Lane.

Now she knew all too well how emotions could
twist a person. They could blind you to a lover’s faults. Make you
desperate to do anything to protect your lover.

Even make you kill.

Is that what you did, Noah York? Did you kill
for a lover?

Lane kissed Gwen again.

And she knew the stark truth…
I’d kill for
him.

***

Noah dreamed of death. Of a field covered in
snow, and of the blood that stained that snow.

He dreamed of Claire. Claire with her deep,
blue eyes and her blonde hair.

He tried to get to Claire. But she lifted her
hands toward him, and blood dripped from her wrists.

“You did this,” she whispered as tears slid
down her cheeks. “Why?”

Noah shook his head. He wouldn’t hurt Claire.
Not ever. Things were going to be different with her. So different
from the way they’d been before.

“You killed me,” she told him as the blood
dripped from her wrists. She was standing in the middle of the
snow, and her blood dripped down from her wounds, falling
slowly.

Then Claire fell, and Noah was too far away
to catch her.

***

Noah jerked awake, his heart racing. Claire
was by his side. She was breathing softly as she kept sleeping.

He ran a shaking hand over his face. He often
dreamed of that damn, snow-covered field. He’d lost a friend on
that field. Barely managed to get another away from the
carnage.

But Claire…

You killed me.

He turned to look down at her. Her hand was
near her face, positioned loosely on her pillow. Her hand rested,
palm up, and with the early morning sunlight filtering through the
window, he could see the scar on her wrist.

Noah swallowed and tried to shove the images
from his mind. He wasn’t going to hurt Claire. He wanted to protect
her.

Protecting Claire helped him to atone for the
sins of his past.

And…

I just want her safe.

He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the
scar along her wrist.

I will keep you safe. No matter what.

Chapter Eight

“We should talk about it,” Noah said
carefully. He’d been hesitant to broach this subject before, but
they were nearly back in the city, and he had to man up and face
facts.

I lost control with her.

“It?” Claire echoed. He could feel her stare
on him, but Noah kept looking at the road. “What is ‘it’
exactly?”

His teeth clenched. “No protection,” Noah
gritted out. “You know I didn’t use a condom last night.”

“Oh. That.”

His gaze snapped to her. The woman sure
didn’t sound concerned.

“I told you I was safe,” Claire told him with
a shrug. “There hasn’t been anyone for me in years.”

And he
never
went without protection.
Well, he hadn’t. Until her. “I’m talking about the risk of
pregnancy, Claire.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Uh, yeah, I do. I was the guy fucking you
last night.” He forced his gaze back to the road. “So if you get
pregnant, we’ll—”

“You don’t have to worry,” Claire said again,
cutting through his words before he’d been able to finish his
sentence. And that finish would’ve included…

We’ll get married.

The idea had come to him as he’d stood on the
balcony, watching the sun rise. After his nightmare, sleep had been
an impossibility. He’d had plenty of time with his thoughts.

His thoughts had focused on her.

“Are you on the pill? Some sort of
contraception—”

“I don’t need anything.” Her voice was
totally devoid of emotion. “I can’t have kids, okay? So, again, you
don’t have to worry.”

His hands tightened around the wheel as his
knuckles whitened. “You can’t have kids?”

“No…I…I was pregnant before.”

He slammed on the brakes. Car horns behind
him blared. “
What?”
She’d been pregnant with Ethan
Harrison’s baby? That hadn’t been in the reports he’d read.

Claire glanced at him. Her cheeks had paled.
“That part didn’t make the papers.”

Or my reports.

The cars kept honking.

Noah started driving again. “No, it sure as
shit didn’t make them.” His guts were twisted into knots. “What
happened?”

“The pregnancy was one of the reasons my
parents sent me away to my grandfather’s fishing cabin. I’d found
out I was pregnant, and I was trying to figure out what to do.”

His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

“Then Ethan killed my parents. He nearly
killed me, and I-I lost the baby after that. It was…the doctors
said it was a tubal pregnancy. The baby died, and they saved me.”
Her breath rushed out. “And that was when I started to think that I
shouldn’t have been saved.”

Fuck, fuck,
fuck.

“The doctor said it would be unlikely that I
could conceive again. They told me that I’d been lucky to have the
first pregnancy…Lucky,” she whispered and her voice rasped with
pain. “How was I lucky if I’d lost the baby?”

“Claire…”