“Plenty of them.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He was an asshole.”
So she’d heard, but Gwen pressed on with her questions. “Any enemies that might want him dead? That might want him and Ethan dead?”
“Ethan was in jail. He couldn’t hurt anyone in jail.” His hand dropped. “I wasn’t a good brother.”
This was not helping her investigation. “I need names. I need to know who would want your father to die like that—a shot to the head and—”
“Claire Kramer.” Her name was a sigh from Austin. “She’s the one who’d want him dead. Who’d want them both dead, but Claire doesn’t have the power to pull off something like this.”
Gwen wasn’t so certain of that. Claire’s new lover has plenty of power. “When was the last time you spoke with Claire?”
He laughed. “I haven’t spoken with her, not in years, but I know what they did.” His jaw tightened. “I know what they both did to Claire, and if anyone would’ve wanted to see my father and my brother rotting, it would be her.”
Her knees were shaking. Her stomach seemed to be tied in knots, and Claire was absolutely determined not to let Noah see her fear.
He tossed aside the phone that he’d held. His golden gaze locked on her.
“I am afraid of you,” Claire told him because she thought the words needed to be said.
His lips thinned. “Tell me something I didn’t know.”
A spark of anger ignited within her. “How can I not be afraid? You attacked that PI. You—you told me that you’d kill Ethan—”
“Like you hadn’t thought about killing him yourself? Come on, Claire. It’s just us. I won’t judge you for the darkness inside you.”
The darkness inside you. So he did see it. She’d wondered about that. Keeping her eyes on his, Claire admitted, “Only every day.”
His head cocked as he studied her.
“But if I killed Ethan, then wouldn’t I become just like him?” And that was the root of Claire’s terror. Ethan had been so drawn to her because he’d said they were the same. Mirror images, deep inside. She didn’t want to be the same as Ethan.
She didn’t want to kill. To destroy.
Claire never wanted to become so obsessed with one person that she let everything else slip away.
She couldn’t quite read Noah’s expression. Claire took a tentative step forward. “What’s the difference between love and obsession?” That one question had haunted her for so long.
Noah didn’t answer her.
“Have you ever been in love, Noah?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but Claire laughed, realizing what she’d just foolishly asked. “Of course, you haven’t. You’re the man with a new lover every night. You don’t want to love.”
“Love leads to pain,” Noah said.
Claire nodded. “I was told once that you were in love when you needed someone so much that you couldn’t bear to think of the world without that person, that you couldn’t live without that person being near.” She wet her too-dry lips. “I think that’s obsession. A need that dominates you. Consumes you. A need for one other person. A need that makes you do…anything…to possess that person.”
He was as still as a statue before her.
“Ethan thought he loved me, but I don’t believe Ethan could love.” Time to confess all. “I don’t think I can love, either.” She’d just been getting by, in a void, for so long. Watching the world. Hiding from herself.
From everyone.
“Do you think you can love?” Claire asked him.
His eyes glittered. “Do you want me to say that I love you?”
“No.” Because she wouldn’t believe him if he did. “You don’t. You want to fuck me. I think you want to protect me, because you and Trace—” The slightly bitter laughter slipped from her again. “You both hold yourselves responsible for Sara’s death. You’re trying to make amends somehow to me.”
“I do want to protect you.”
But you don’t love me.
“I’m asking if you can love, Noah.” And it was so important to her. “Love or obsession…what is life about to you?”
His gaze slid from hers. “I think there’s a thin line between love and obsession.”
Her breath whispered out.
“I already feel obsessed with you,” he said, his voice gravel-rough, “but you know that, don’t you?”
Yes.
“I won’t ever hurt you,” Noah told her. The words were stark. “I need you to believe that.”
Not her. She didn’t think he would physically hurt her, but what about someone else? She’d been so wrong about a lover before. Trusting Noah completely seemed an impossible task.
“I’m not like Ethan Harrison. Anything that happens between you and me…it happens because it is what you want to happen. It’s about what you need.”
She needed him. She needed to feel like any other woman. “I didn’t date again after Ethan. Didn’t go to prom or any parties in college. I stayed as far away from men as I could get.” She was trying to explain, and Claire was afraid he just wouldn’t understand her. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know if what I’m feeling for you is normal and—” Right. She swallowed and finished, “Or if it’s wrong.” Claire had whispered like the shameful secret it was.
Her eyes lowered. She was staring at the lush carpet, and she saw his legs moving toward her.
“Ethan told me that I was just like him. That I consumed him. And at first, I felt like he consumed me, too.” There was so much pain in those memories. “I feel the same way with you.”
His fingers slid under her chin. He forced her head to lift, but her gaze darted over his shoulder.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
Slowly, afraid to see his gaze, afraid of what would be in his gaze, she did.
“How do you feel when you’re with me? Tell me…exactly.”
“I want to let go.”
A furrow appeared between his brows.
“I want to stop playing it safe. I want to not care what happens beyond the pleasure that you can give me and the pleasure I can give you.”
That furrow smoothed away. His eyes heated.
“I want to let go,” she said again as their eyes held. “I want to burn instead of always being cold. I want to claw your back. I want to buck against your hips. I want to scream.”
“All you have to do is ask.”
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.”