Murder in the River City(46)

She sat up on top of him, her entire body flushed.

“Condom,” she demanded.

“Wallet.”

She had to turn to find his jeans, and Sam took the opportunity to try to slow his pace. But then she crawled halfway across the room and he saw her from behind and immediately realized slow wasn’t going to cut it. Not the first time. Not when they’d been holding off for so long.

He crawled after her, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down beneath him. He kissed her while grabbing his wallet from her hands.

“I want to do it,” she said impishly.

“If you touch me, I’ll explode,” he said with a low growl.

Shauna watched as Sam rolled the condom on. She smiled seductively and said, “I saw three of those in your wallet.”

“And I’m going to use each one.” He leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “First, I’m going to make love to you hard and fast, because you’ve already driven me to the brink. Then, I’m going to take you upstairs and you’re going to do the same to me. Then, just when you think you can’t move, I’m going to kiss you everywhere. Your mouth.” He kissed her lightly. “Your breasts.” He sucked her highly stimulated nipples and she gasped. “And right here.”

He slid his penis deep inside her, then stopped himself. He wanted to savor it at the same time he wanted her now.

This moment was everything Shauna had imagined and more. More. She reached down and pressed his ass firmly, pushing him in as deep as he could go, while moving her pelvis up to meet him.

“Shauna,” he mumbled in her ear.

She loved hearing him say her name. She loved that he was eager for her. She wrapped her right leg around his waist and grabbed his biceps. She tilted her head back and Sam pulled almost all the way out, then sank back in. She gasped with each movement, overheated and spiraling quickly toward complete satisfaction.

Every muscle in Sam’s body went rigid and his penis jerked deep inside her. He joined her as he took her over the edge. She bit back a cry. Too hot, too fast, too much pent up lust. She wanted more.

“Again, Sam,” she whispered.

He kissed the skin at the base of her throat, over and over, then her neck, her jawline, and finally her lips. He kissed her with such warmth and affection she lost her breath again.

“I love you, Shauna,” he whispered. “I’ve loved you forever.”

She smiled. “I knew you would come to your senses eventually.” She kissed him, then turned his head so she could whisper in his ear. “I love you, too, Sam Garcia. Now take me upstairs and keep your promises.”





Chapter Seventeen



Friday



Mack’s funeral was at the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacramento Friday at ten a.m., followed by a party at Dooley’s. Shauna focused on each of her responsibilities so she wouldn’t have to think about this evening. It was just an act, so the FBI could gather evidence. And hopefully, put the bad guys behind bars.

But the end game wasn’t for weeks or months, according to Dean Hooper, and that meant Shauna had to be cordial to Austin. What was she going to tell him after tonight? She couldn’t keep up the farce for months. She didn’t know if she’d be able to get through it for one night.

Except, if he was party to killing Mack, she had a duty and obligation to stop him.

“Shauna, girl, what’s troubling you?” Dooley asked.

She looked up, almost forgetting she was wiping down the bar.

“The bar is clean. You’ve been scrubbing the same spot for five minutes.”

“Sad, Da, just sad.”

He laid his gnarled hands on hers. “Me, too, girl. Me, too.”

Sam walked in and caught Shauna’s eye. He winked and a weight lifted from her heart. They’d agreed not to talk alone today because Agent Hooper was worried Austin had people reporting back. If he thought there was any set up, he might change the plans for the event.

It was the waiting that was killing her. She was not a patient woman.

Her cell phone rang. It was a blocked call. “Hello?”

“Ms. Murphy? It’s Dean Hooper.”

“Hello.” What was she supposed to say?

“The warrant came through. I have a female agent, Melanie Hale, who’s going to meet you at your house at three under the guise of being a friend.”

“Austin might know my friends.”

“What about a neighbor?”

“Okay.”

“You don’t sound comfortable.”

“I’m not getting cold feet—I know this is important—but I think he thinks that because I’m going with him to this ball that we’re back together. Or that I’ll say something and screw it up. I’m not a good liar.”