Seconds to Live(72)
All dark eyes and disheveled hair, she cupped his jaw. “I wish this moment could last forever.”
“Me, too.” He nibbled his way to her neck. “The best I can do is make it last a while longer.”
They both knew in the morning they’d have to face reality. But for the next few hours, the real world could wait.
“I’ll take every minute I can get.” How did her hand get down there?
“I like it that you’re greedy.” He got up to deal with the condom and find another. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
She fluffed her pillow and got comfortable. “I’ll be here.”
But for how long?
Mac had spent his entire adult life running from personal responsibility. Fleeing connections. Running from his emotions. Now, for the first time, he wanted something to be permanent.
The ache in his chest was an acute reminder that his growing attachment to Stella made him vulnerable. If he let himself fall for her, it would be like stepping off a cliff. There’d be no going back.
She appeared in the mirror behind him. “Do you think you should check your stitches? I’d feel awful if I hurt you.”
He turned and kissed her. “I was careful. The wound is fine.”
Tonight, it was his heart at risk.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thunder boomed. Stella opened her eyes. She oriented herself as she recognized Mac’s bedroom in the dark. Erotic images played in her mind.
What a night.
Lightning flashed, illuminating Mac sprawled next to her. The room had been warm—and so had their bodies—when they’d finally fallen asleep. The sheet draped across his waist, leaving his torso bare. Her gaze roamed the lean muscle of his arms and chest. She thought about following her eyes with her hands, but it wasn’t even light yet. Why should they both be awake?
Rain burst from the sky and drummed on the roof. Leaves rustled as the wind whipped at the trees. Cool, moist air blew through the open windows, a welcome chill. Another clap of thunder boomed, closer this time. The loud crack brought back the memory of her nightmare. Gunshots and an endless stream of blood. In her dreams, it flowed until it formed a slick, red lake in the grass.
Nausea welled. Moving away from Mac so as not to disturb him, she curled into a ball.
But he stirred, rolling toward her. His hand settled on her hip. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a bad dream.” She balled up tighter.
He stroked a hand down her back, as soothing as the patter of rain.
“Shouldn’t you close the windows?”
He shook his head, scooting closer and pulling her to him until his body spooned hers. “The roof was designed to protect the windows. The rain won’t get in.”
The wind blew the cool scent of wet pine and earth into the room. Stella shivered, and Mac drew the sheet up over her shoulders.
He pressed his lips to her temple. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She sighed, wiggling her butt closer. She loved the feel of his body pressed against hers. He was solid and real and warm. “Just a nightmare.”
“Do you have them often?”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “They started back in November.”
“After the shooting?”
“Yes.” She rolled onto her back, flung an arm over her head, and stared up at the ceiling. “They’d been fading, slowly, over the months, but seeing two dead bodies this week seems to have brought them back.”
He stroked the underside of her arm. Last night, he’d found places on her body she hadn’t known were erogenous. Or was it his touch, pretty much anywhere, that stirred desire until it simmered in her veins, thick and hot and as sweet as syrup?
“Have you seen anyone?” he asked.
“You mean a shrink?” She rolled to face him.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m considering it.” He slid his hand to her hip. “I never really dealt with Lee’s death.”
“And now your father . . .” She cupped his jaw. “Your family has been through so much.”
“Yeah. Putting the issue on my backburner hasn’t worked out for me. I don’t recommend it.” Grief welled into Mac’s eyes. “You should deal with the problem now, instead of letting it grow.”
Like he obviously had.
Stella nestled her head deeper into the pillow. “I don’t have anything against therapy. My required sessions with the department shrink were important after the shooting, but I thought I was getting over it. Looks like I was wrong. I’m not worried about the actual nightmares. I’m pretty sure they’ll fade when this is over. The doctor said they could come and go, depending on triggers.” But as long as she was a cop, her life would never be free of triggers.