Brody Law: The Bridge / The District / The Wharf / The Hill. Carol EricsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
wet face against her arm.
He whispered her name over and over and it echoed in the shower, surrounding her as he surrounded her. He pounded against her, skin on skin, and when his climax came, it engulfed both of them in its ferocity.
No moaning, groaning or grunting for Sean. He howled. And the sound of his passion, of his possession of her, sent a thrill to her core.
When he spent himself inside her, he covered her with his body. His legs twined around hers, his arms wrapped around her torso, his chest and belly were sealed against her back to the juncture where their bodies remained connected in the most intimate way.
The lukewarm water beat against their entwined forms as they gasped for breath. Slowly, he peeled away from her and slipped out of her. She felt the loss of him in the pit of her stomach, so she straightened and turned in one movement and clung to his chest.
He smoothed the damp hair from her face. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I couldn’t...couldn’t help myself.”
Then she realized tears, not just water, were coursing down her cheeks.
She nuzzled against his chest, the sprinkling of dark hair ticking her nose. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You just took me somewhere, someplace—” she dug her fingernails in his firm buttocks “—I don’t know.”
He chuckled and wedged a knuckle beneath her chin, tilting her head back. “Would it be too cliché to say ‘paradise’?”
“You felt it, too?” She rubbed the water from her eyes.
“You’re kidding, right?” He cupped her face in his hands. “Do you think it’s every day I howl at the moon during sex?”
The happiness that welled in her chest overcame her, and tears sprang to her eyes again.
He kissed one of her eyelids. “If you keep crying, I’m going to think I’m a brute.”
She slapped his chest with her hand. “Are you kidding? Do you think it’s every day I break down and cry during sex?”
The smile dropped from his face, and his dark eyes kindled. “It was special, wasn’t it? I don’t generally go in for the mushy stuff, but you make me feel...mushy.”
Her fingers traced the ridges of his pecs. “You don’t feel mushy at all.”
“You just ruined my mushy moment.” He smacked her backside. “Let’s get out of here before we both look like prunes.”
Sean tucked a towel around his waist and padded out of the bathroom, returning with a fresh towel for her.
He held it out for her as she stepped from the shower. “You do realize that if I towel you off, it’s going to ignite that fire down below all over again.”
She fluttered her lashes. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
He wrapped the towel around her body. “You do have school tomorrow, right? You don’t want to come in with a sex hangover.”
“I don’t know.” She dropped the towel. “Is that the kind of hangover that can be cured with the hair of the dog?”
Sean made a move but stopped when his cell phone rang in the bedroom. “Oops, that’s my work phone. I’d better pick that up, but hold that thought.”
She gathered her towel from the floor and followed him into the bedroom. He was right. She had to get it together and return to Courtney’s to get ready for school. They’d have another chance to be together. Wouldn’t they?
Despite being half-naked, Sean had already morphed back into the dedicated cop with the phone call. He sat on the edge of the bed, the cell pressed to his ear, his face creased into lines of worry. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Do you think I asked him to contact me? Do you think I want it?”
A sick feeling twisted her gut, and she edged out of the bedroom, tucking a corner of the towel in the edge at her chest. She couldn’t take any more, not after what they’d just shared. She wasn’t ready to crash to earth just yet.
She wandered into the kitchen and collected the plates from the table while Sean’s voice rumbled from the other room. As she ran water over the dishes, someone pounded on Sean’s front door.
She dropped the silverware in the sink with a clatter and grabbed a dish towel, twisting it in front of her on the way to the door.
Sean stalked out of the bedroom, clutching his phone in his fist. “Who the hell is that?”
Elise reached the door before he did and peered through the peephole. Her heart galloped in her chest as she fumbled with the dead bolt.
“Wait, Elise. What are you doing?”
“It’s Ty.” She yanked at the door. “And he’s hurt.”
“What?”
She got the door open and Ty stumbled into the room, his face battered and pale, a white T-shirt, seeping blood, wrapped thickly around one hand.
She caught him in midstagger and he almost took her down. “Ty, what is it? What happened to you?”
He raised the hand swaddled in the bloody T-shirt and aimed it at Sean. “He happened to me. His henchman attacked me, and then the SOB chopped off my finger. He took my finger.”
Ty collapsed face-first on the floor.
Elise’s face took on a shade of green as she swayed over Ty collapsed at her feet.
Sean didn’t need two unconscious people on his floor. He took Elise’s arm and led her to a chair. “Sit.”
Crouching over Ty, he punched in 9-1-1 on the phone still clutched in his hand. He unwound the stained T-shirt from Ty’s hand and swore at the bloody mess. He’d been telling the truth about one thing—someone had hacked off his left ring finger.
Why had the idiot come here instead of calling 9-1-1 or driving himself to an emergency room?
“I-is he okay?”
“Passed out from a loss of blood.”
“His finger?”
“Gone.”
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” Elise bounded from the chair, but Sean held out his hand.
“Sit down, Elise. There’s nothing you can do for him. The ambulance is on its way.”
She plopped back down on the chair, knotting her fingers. “Why? What happened? Who did this?”
Given Ty’s missing finger, Sean had a clue but Elise didn’t need to hear it right now. “If you want to help, bring me a clean dish towel from the kitchen...and my pants.”
She looked down at her own towel slipping from her body and jumped up once again. She headed into the kitchen first and returned to the living room, tossing a terry-cloth towel at him. While he loosened the T-shirt from Ty’s hand and replaced it with the towel, binding it tightly around the gaping wound, Elise disappeared down the hallway.
Back in her skirt and sweater, she dropped his jeans beside him. He looked up. “If you’re feeling up to it, can you hold this towel in place for a few seconds?”
Nodding, she curled her legs beneath her and sat next to Ty.
Sean placed her hands around the towel. “Squeeze as hard as you can.”
He yanked on his jeans and tossed the bath towel aside. He squatted next to her and nudged her hands away from the makeshift bandage staunching the flow of Ty’s blood.
She slumped back, her hands falling in her lap. “Why did this happen, Sean? This can’t be a coincidence.”
“I don’t think it is.” She’d realize