Get Lucky (32 page)

He pulled away from her just far enough to focus on her face. “You never ached to run home?” The way he asked let her know it was something that had bothered him, and he searched her face as if trying to learn her answer before she spoke.

London thought of the times she’d imagined returning to Aspen. She didn’t look away from him as she unzipped his black pants and pushed them down his thighs. “It would have meant running further from you,” she whispered.

Chapter Eighteen

“I want to be with you.” Marc grabbed her when he stepped out of his jeans.

The way she knelt on the edge of the bed, helping him undress, was fucking hot as hell. But hearing her say she didn’t want to be away from him did something to his insides too intense to fight.

“Okay.” She didn’t fight him when he pushed her back onto the bed.

But she thought he meant he wanted to fuck her. Marc needed her to understand this was for real. He wanted her to know how hard it had been being away from her, especially when he hadn’t had a choice of returning to her. All he’d thought about when he’d left that Phoenix hotel was driving back to London.

“I considered driving to L.A. when I left that hotel.” The throbbing in his shoulder annoyed him and made it impossible to hold himself up over London. As he knelt between her legs, running his hands over her soft flesh, making her understand his thoughts seemed as important to him as fucking her.

She lay on the bed, her legs spread around him, and grinned up at him. “You wouldn’t have made it that far.”

He’d been damn lucky to pass out from the pain when he’d pulled over on that interstate. When he couldn’t see straight any longer and knew driving wasn’t an option, he’d managed to pull the car over and fought to stay conscious as long as possible. Passing out had been a godsend. Being found as quickly as he had been and rushed to a hospital was a blessing.

“I wanted to find you,” he stressed. Staring down at the glowing wonder in her onyx-colored eyes let him know he’d made the right move. London had built a wall of security around herself all her life, Letting it down, letting him in, took some effort on her part, but the look on her face showed him she wanted him with her.

“I’m glad we found you.” She held a small foil package in her hand. “Do you want me to put this on you?”

“More than anything.” Lifting her legs, he moved closer, the heat between her legs drawing him in. His cock burned with need, the pressure overwhelming.

London’s fingers on his cock, her efforts to protect them, were an erotic torture almost too intense for him to handle. She tried sitting up, running her hands up his body, then tugging on him.

“Lay down. Let mec”

“I want you like this.” He didn’t want to be too rough with her, but making love to her with London looking up at him, being able to see every emotion that hit her as it appeared on her face, would make uniting with her all the more complete.

Marc pressed her flat on her back and grabbed her legs. Her hair fanned around her, away from her face so he could see her watching him. His cock found home, and as he slid into her—the overwhelming heat wrapping around him like a protective glove—the anxiety, frustrations, and aggravations from the past couple days faded away. The throbbing pain in his shoulder was no longer at the forefront of his thoughts. All that mattered was London, that she was here, with him, part of him.

“I want to make this permanent,” he told her, and thrust deep into her pussy, feeling her constrict around him and drag him even deeper.

London’s eyes widened and that uncertainty he saw on her face earlier when they’d picked him up in Phoenix reappeared.

“I love you,” he stressed, needing that glow to come back into her pretty eyes. He wanted her expression flushed with emotions that were so easy for him to read.

Marc thrust again, watching her mouth form a small circle and her hands rise, reaching for him. He impaled her and she cried out. Marc fucked her with all he could give her, loving how she moaned, her eyes closing as she shook her head until long, black strands clung to her cheeks.

“You’re mine, London.” He wanted her acknowledgment, her words of understanding and commitment.

“Marc,” she gasped, blinking and staring up at him with fogged-over lust clouding her gaze. “God! Yes!”

As she reached up, dragging her nails down his chest, London came so hard she damn near suffocated him. Her body shook, vibrating with orgasm after orgasm. She was a vision of beauty, so incredibly perfect. For the life of him, he wouldn’t give her up. And he didn’t want to fuck this up. No woman ever came so hard for him, released everything she had so willingly, yet wouldn’t open up completely. He wanted her submission, her complete and undying love. He wanted her adoring him, assuring him she would never leave him and that no matter how dangerous any case might be, she’d be there with open arms when he returned to her.

The moment she sighed, caught her breath, and blinked, staring up at him with a small smile, Marc went at it again. The hell with the pain in his shoulder. Nothing mattered more than showing London how serious he was. She might not know yet that he’d never spoken like this to another lady, but she would understand before he was done. If it killed him, London would believe in her heart and her soul that they were meant to be together.

He increased momentum the moment she looked up at him, once again riding her and giving her everything. There was no holding back, no hesitancy, as he drove deep inside her soaked pussy, feeling her come soak his balls and thighs. It was the most incredible sex in the world, and there wasn’t any doubt London offered him all she had—physically.

It was that pang of knowledge, somewhere far in the back of his head, that warned him there was still a barrier inside her she hadn’t released for him. Somewhere in that beautiful brain of hers, London held back. Marc didn’t claim to be an expert on relationships. He’d never paid much attention to what might make it work or not work with his friends or his parents. Not that anything they might use to stay together mattered to him. What mattered was London, knowing her heart and soul were his. He would make her see he was offering her everything, and he’d be damned if she turned him away because of emotional damage done long before he met her.

“London,” he gasped, feeling his dam of determination waver. He would come at this rate, and she hadn’t spoken the words that would bond them together. She hadn’t shown him on her face with that special glow he’d seen on her once or twice that she didn’t want to live without him. “You want me,” he uttered, barely able to get the words out as pressure built inside him.

“Yes,” she whispered, and she ran her hands up his arms, trying to reach for his uninjured shoulder but unable to with him not coming down over her. “Fuck me, darling. Fuck me harder.”

She was keeping it physical, holding back.

Marc damn near burned alive inside, every inch of him so tense his entire body shook. Yet he slowed the pace, enduring pain more intense than any wound could ever inflict, and stared down into her clouded, dark eyes. They were like a midnight storm, the imminent eruption of emotions so damn close yet swirling, rotating with hesitancy and fear. As he stared at her, feeling himself drawn deeper inside her, and not just his cock, when he sunk into her scalding, soaked heat, Marc saw, when that swarming storm of reluctance broke inside her, London’s commitment to him would be stronger than possibly anything he’d ever known. She didn’t halfheartedly give herself to anyone or to anything.

When London took on something, she gave it all she had, performing and meticulously ensuring the job was done perfectly. She’d abhorred guns yet had embraced one and attacked with fury when her world was jeopardized. Her parents were in trouble and she’d dived into the terror of a bizarre situation, not stopping until they were safe.

This was the woman for him. She gave her all to something when it mattered to her. He had to know that what she felt, what he saw warring inside her, were the same overwhelming emotions that consumed him.

“Do you love me?” He couldn’t wait any longer to know.

London licked her lips and slick, drenched muscles tightened around his cock at the same time. As much as her hesitancy to answer him tore him in two, the heat of her pussy engulfing him and encouraging him deeper had him teetering on the edge, ready to explode in spite of his efforts to control the moment.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, her words so soft he almost didn’t hear them over the roaring in his brain as he fought not to come.

“London.” His brain was in turmoil.

Marc could control and manipulate a situation no matter its intensity. He was positive being with London was the right thing. It was more than physical, more than feeling her hot, tight pussy clinging to him and threatening to milk all life out of him. It sure as hell wasn’t convenience that had him positive, beyond any doubt, she was meant to be his woman. Their worlds were far apart. There would be matters to work out that many couples didn’t have to worry about. Yet no matter what it took, Marc wasn’t going to let her go.

“Don’t be frightened, sweetheart.” He dared lower himself over her, holding his weight with his good arm, “We’re here, together. We’re meant to be together,” he stressed, searching her eyes for understanding and acceptance of what seemed so clear to him.

“I do love you. I think you’re right.” She spoke the words clearly but then closed her eyes, wrapping her arms and legs around him, shutting him off from the warring emotions tumbling around inside her, and inching him deeper into heat he couldn’t fight off.

Marc sunk deep inside her, taking her hard and fast again in moments before he gave thought to it. He rode her, impaling her as his cock thrust inside her with enough energy to singe him alive. Fire tore at his groins, erupting inside him with a ferocity that split him in two.

He roared when he came, giving London everything he had and knowing without any doubt he wouldn’t ever get it back. As much as he didn’t care, pain stabbed at his heart with the realization she hadn’t done the same.

*   *   *

Flying home was a hell of a lot nicer than driving. And it was good to be home. His underarm throbbed, the annoying pain that would shoot down his arm any time he lifted anything starting to make him grouchy.

“I just got a phone call.” His father walked into the kitchen the same time Marc did. “They found the car you were driving when you left Phoenix,” Greg offered, heading to the refrigerator.

Marc watched his brother down a large sandwich as he sat at the table. Jake stared at his mom, who followed their dad into the room. His cheek bulged from the bite he’d just taken.

“That glass was still in the passenger seat,” his mom announced, grinning at Marc and then rolling her eyes at Jake. “Why don’t you just put the whole sandwich in your mouth next time and save time?” she teased.

Greg popped open a bottle of juice and pulled Haley against him, resting his arm over her shoulder as he focused on Marc. He knew that look in his father’s eyes all too well, that rush of satisfaction when it all finally started to pull together.

“Detective Torrance just told me the glass and its contents are being overnighted to his station. He’s going to personally oversee the tests run on its contents. We’re going to know what that drug was that bitch threatened all of us with,” Greg offered triumphantly.

“There better be something in those tiny vials I yanked out from underneath my flesh,” Marc grumbled, sliding into the seat across from his brother and stealing a potato chip off his plate. “If I’m enduring this annoying pain for nothing, I’ll hunt that bitch down until she regrets the day she laid eyes on me.”

“I’ll let you know,” his father said.

Marc’s mother chuckled, ruffling his hair when she left the room, his father in tow.

“Get your own damn food,” Jake complained, swatting his hand when Marc stole another chip. “And you probably wouldn’t be in so much pain if you’d quit moping around here like a fucking lost dog.”

Marc glared at Jake, the thought of punching him in the head a rather gratifying one.

“Christ, man. Go get her ass,” Jake snapped, giving him a hard stare that was a dare if Marc ever saw one. “You’re annoying as hell wallowing in your pity over that woman.”

“We have an agreement. And I’m not feeling sorry for myself.” He fought not to stand up quickly and send the chair underneath him flying. Pounding that smug look off his brother’s face sounded better than anything he’d done all day.

“We’ve all heard your agreement.” Jake waved a potato chip in the air between them and rolled his eyes. “Sounds to me like you just don’t have the balls to go get her. Now if it were me and a hot, sexy piece of ass like that—”

“Shut up!” Marc roared, sending the chair underneath him sliding backward into the wall when he stood and loomed over his brother. “Don’t you ever call her that,” he threatened, hissing at Jake.

“If she were more than that to you, you wouldn’t be here in California and her out in Colorado.” Jake looked away from him, taking another bite of his sandwich then raising his eyes to Marc, maintaining that silent challenge.

Marc had hated the arrangement London proposed before they’d left the hotel in Flagstaff. She would return to Aspen. He’d come home to L.A. They would sort out their feelings and talk to each other in a week. After three days, there weren’t any more feelings to sort out. He loved her and didn’t want to live without her.

“I don’t know, man. If it were me, I’d go get my woman.” Jake popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth and stood to take his plate to the sink. “That is, unless you don’t think you can live without your mommy.”

Marc lunged at him, aiming a hard knuckle sandwich directly at the side of his head. Jake flew out of range, letting the back door slam behind him as he laughed and disappeared around the corner of the house.

Marc and London had had a long talk before they’d checked out of the hotel. She was trying to be practical, she’d explained to him. There wasn’t a job waiting for her in L.A., and she’d never lived relying on anyone else to support her. She’d told him she loved him, more than once, but that cloud of doubt never lifted from her eyes. Marc had stood with her at the airport, waiting with her until her flight was ready to board. When he’d joined his family and boarded their plane, which was flying in the opposite direction as London’s, he’d hated the concerned looks all of them gave him.

His little brother made a point, though, and Marc hated that as much as he hated the truth stinging at his insides when he realized it. She was his woman and he couldn’t let her get away.

“Do you two have a minute?” Marc paused in the doorway to his father’s office, meeting his parents’ gazes when they both looked up at him.

Haley gave her husband a knowing look before putting paperwork she’d been holding on the desk and turning to face Marc. “Come on in, Marc. And of course we do,” she said, turning a chair that faced his father’s desk so Marc could sit.

“I need to talk to you two.” He rested his arms on the back of the chair instead of sitting in it. His father studied him and his mother searched his face, the worry in her eyes making him believe she already suspected what he would say. “I think I’m going to move out,” he announced, and blew out a sigh of relief so overwhelming it almost made him stagger. He straightened, feeling a weight of worry lift off him. “Actually, I know I am. I’m moving out. I’m moving to Colorado.”

“Oh, baby!” His mother wasn’t at all upset, as he’d imagined she would be. Haley leapt around the chair, throwing herself into his arms and hugging him as she laughed and cried at the same time.

His father stood, a small smile on his face as he watched his wife wrap herself around their son. Greg held out his hand, nodding once. “Go get your woman,” he instructed, and shook Marc’s hand.

It all fell together so quickly Marc swore his family had plotted the whole thing behind his back and had just waited for him to come to his senses to put the plan into action. He would just take a couple suitcases; once he and London knew where they would live, he could get the rest of his things. There was a nonstop flight into Colorado leaving later that day, and after he had booked a seat on it, his parents drove him to the airport, both of them chattering cheerfully. He was starting to think they were happy to get rid of him.

He was still overwhelmed when he landed later that evening, grateful that this time he’d thought ahead to dress warmly before leaving L.A. It was the end of January and the bitter cold winds blew around him fiercely when he stuck the key into the door of his rental car. By the time he pulled up in front of London’s house, it was dark.

Too dark. There wasn’t a light on in her home.

Maybe he should have called first. From the moment he told his parents his decision to when he landed at the airport in Aspen, his brain had been in such a whirlwind he wasn’t sure he would have made a damn bit of sense if he had called her. Besides, he’d managed to come up with something resembling a plan. He would arrive at her home, climb her porch steps, and knock on her door. She would answer it, wearing her long T-shirt and her long, flowing black hair tumbling down her sides. She would be barefoot, surprised, and possibly even cry when he told her he was here to be with her. They would cuddle together, dreaming of their future, and then lay out a solid game plan together.

Marc got out of the warm car and ducked against the bitter wind as he hurried up her walk. He stomped his feet on her porch, making enough noise that it would be impossible for anyone inside not to know he was here. As he knocked soundly on her front door, the sinking feeling inside him began churning, making him forget he was freezing. London wasn’t here.

His frustration over his idea of cuddling with her not panning out turned to worry when he drove out to the lodge and received even more upsetting news.

“London quit,” the college boy behind the counter at the lodge told Marc, frowning as he gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry, man. I don’t know where she went.”