Chapter 16

Noah held the door for Raven and slid into the back of the limo after her. Once they were underway, he closed the partition so Max couldn't hear their conversation. He had two goals and two goals only tonight: to find out what her mother had said to upset her and to make her forget in as many creative ways conceivable.

But first- "Here." He pulled a box out of his coat pocket and handed it to her.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

She lifted the lid and gasped at the watch. Silver and gold, the face was small and the band adjustable. It also had a tracking device inside, just in case.

"I love it. Thank you."

He removed the watch from the box and clasped it around her wrist. "Do me a favor and wear it whenever you're away from the condo."

Her finger traced the face. "Why?"

Staring at her profile, he decided not to lie. "Because if something happens to you, I can find you if you're wearing it. The trace inside links to an app on my phone."

Her gaze slid to his. "You scare me when you talk like that."

Kissing her temple, he drew in her scent of rain. "Just a precaution, baby."

She didn't seem to believe him, but she leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes, the streetlights playing with shadows on her pale face. "Nicole knows about us. She figured it out. I don't think she'll say anything, but give the word and I'll talk to her. I told her it was temporary and just sex."

He rubbed his jaw. It was sex, but it wasn't just sex. Somewhere in the past few weeks, he'd come to the realization. The "temporary" comment was what caused a sharp pang in his gut. And if that wasn't the most fucking twisted thing, he didn't know what was.

"What was the conversation with you and your mother about?"

She lifted her head and looked at him with haunted, dark eyes. "I asked her about the day of the Lambs of Christ raid. I've been having dreams, but nothing that made much sense."

She'd woken a few nights this week with her heart pounding against his chest and a scream trapped in her throat. He'd tugged her closer, unsure of what else to do, and skimmed his hands down her soft hair until she'd resettled. He nodded for her to continue.

She swallowed. "My father died trying to protect me from the shootout. Apparently, I was-frozen under the bed until the authorities found me."

Mother of God. A vise closed his throat. A primal, ferocious need to protect filled his chest. "Hell, baby." He tugged her onto his lap.

Pressing her cheek to his chest, she shivered. "I don't remember it. Which is a good thing."

He kissed the top of her head and breathed in the rain scent of her hair. "No wonder you can't stand any weight on you. Although you may not remember, part of that day stuck with you." He wanted to erase that fucking fear so bad he'd give everything he owned to make it so. And never, never again would he attempt to try the missionary position. Not until she gave him the signal it was okay.

"This is going to sound crazy, but I'm glad she told me. At first, it shook me, but it's like a weight's been lifted." She raised her head to look at him. "I guess I just needed an explanation or something. Makes me feel like less of a freak."

He ground his molars and held her jaw. He wished she'd stop calling herself a freak. It made him want to punch something. Repeatedly. To ease the anger, or perhaps settle his pounding heart, he crushed his mouth to hers, seeking entry. She opened immediately, always did, and with every stroke of his tongue the friendship lines blurred even more.

Inside the condo, he stripped her coat off and pulled her to him, her back to his front, face buried in her hair. For some reason, he couldn't make himself move, so he tightened his hold and stood with her in the foyer.

Her hands settled on his arms, which trapped her, cool from the elements outside. Tilting her head, she laid it on his shoulder and pressed her face under his jaw. "Come with me into the bedroom."

Yes. Anything she wanted.

Taking his hand, she led him through the dark living room and into their bedroom. Theirs, not his. He stopped in the doorway as her slender form wove through the room to click on the fireplace. Warm tones flickered over her skin, shining in her eyes. He made a move toward her, but she held up her hand.

With too much space between them, she bit her lip and reached behind her back to unzip her dress. The teeth unlatching was almost as loud as the blood roaring through his veins. Cupping the material to her breasts, she slid her arms out and let the red dress pool on the floor.

He forgot how to breathe. She was, in fact, wearing nothing underneath. He greedily took in her pale, milky skin, small, perky breasts and triangle of dark hair at the juncture of her thighs. The firelight bathed her skin, and he had to swallow a groan. His cock strained against his pants.

She tugged the duvet and sheets down and crawled into bed to lay down.

On her back.

A powerful, unknown in origin sensation shoved its way into his throat as she stretched, holding her hand out in invitation. Fuck film. He'd never need a camera to remember this, and damn if he ever wanted anyone but him to see her like she was at this moment.

The information her mother gave her about how-and where-her biological father had died must've given her the answers she'd needed to connect the dots on why she feared the missionary position. She couldn't remember that part of her past, but something subconscious did, and now that Raven understood, she would try everything to get past it. That was just who she was. Strong. A fighter.

Shrugging out of his suit coat, he stripped off his tie, keeping his gaze locked to hers as he unbuttoned his shirt. When it was tossed aside, he made quick work of his pants and walked slowly over to the bed.

He had to clear his throat twice to speak. "Are you sure, baby?"

She nodded.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he ran his fingers from her collarbone to her navel, earning a shiver. "What's your safeword, Raven?"

"Sage." She blinked up at him. "But I don't need it."

"You might," he said, his voice rougher than his breathing. "All you ever have to do is use the safeword, and I'll stop. Always. No matter what. I'll know you've hit your limit." He ran his fingers back up her taut belly to lightly trace her nipples. "We all have limits, baby."

And hell. She was his.

With great care, he slid under the sheet and rose over her, bracing himself on his elbows to not crush her. He waited, but her expression never changed. Still, to give her time to adjust, he brushed his nose with hers and kissed her lightly.

It was she who eventually cranked the heat, deepening the kiss and arching up to meet him. Her thighs spread, welcoming his hips between them. He kept his weight off, his palms on the mattress, and made love to her mouth. Her hands skimmed his shoulders, his back, as if relearning his body before eventually settling on his hips.

His cock throbbed, but he held himself in check. Lifting his head, he watched her as he slid his shaft between her folds, testing her readiness. Slick, wet heat met him.

"Raven," he murmured, easing back so the head of his cock poised at her opening.

Her dark eyes met his, not a trace of fear in them. "I want you-"

He pushed inside with one fluid stroke. Again, he paused, arms shaking with restraint. She wrapped her arms around his back and her legs around his hips, nursing him deeper into her soft, giving body.

He buried his face in her neck, his hold slipping. "Fuck, baby-"

"Noah."

That was all it took. His name on her lips, spoken in passion and not fear. A plea to give her what she needed. Damn if he could do anything else but give.

One arm worked between her ass and the mattress, angling her hips to take more of him. The other cupped the back of her head and held her against his rough kiss. He withdrew and pushed back inside, the glide slick and tight and hot. He tore his mouth away to suck in a ragged breath, dropping his forehead to hers.

He took her with slow strokes, and she met him with a moan, urging him on. She said his name, over and over. A plea. A demand. There was nothing better than hearing her say his name. Nothing. Sweat soaked their skin. Testing her, he drove into her a little harder, faster.

"Ah, Noah. Yes, yes, yes." Her nails raked his scalp. Her legs banded tighter, heels digging into his ass and urging him for more. She threw her head back, and the scent of rain mixed with musk surrounded them.

He grabbed the headboard with one hand to keep them from drifting as he ground into her. Again and again. With each punishing thrust, she grew more demanding, until her walls clenched around his shaft and she cried out, holding his head to her collarbone as she came.

He followed, driving twice more, and strained. Violent shudders wracked his body until he was completely drained. Spent, he tried to roll them to the side, but she held him firm.

"No. Stay like this. Don't-move."

He rested the side of his face between her breasts and slid his arms around her, unsure of what, if anything, could be said after that storm. Her fingers combed his hair lazily, and he fell asleep just like that, with her holding him for a change.