Or throwing things at him.
He wouldn’t admit it to her, but she’d been hot as hell when she was mad. Hannah in a fury had done all sorts of things to his cock. Even as he’d ducked, all he’d been able to think about was throwing her on the pool table and fighting his way inside her.
“Of course, sweetheart. Take all the time you need. I want you to be sure.” The house loomed ahead. He wished the drive was longer. Even with all the tension between them, he enjoyed just sitting with her.
He sincerely hoped that Preston had been Hannah’s stalker. If so, with him dead, she would finally be safe, and he and his brothers could all concentrate on loving her. Gavin knew he should feel something for his former CIO, but after the way he’d treated Hannah, Gavin merely wished he’d gotten a piece of him before he’d taken the coward’s way out.
If the threat to Hannah was gone, they had no reason to rush back to Dallas. He hadn’t taken a vacation in years. Maybe they could keep Hannah captive just a bit longer.
With a grin, he thought about the items his brothers had brought. Whips and handcuffs and paddles, not to mention vibrators, nipple clamps, and that pretty pink anal plug—all the things a Dom would need to torture and pleasure a pretty little submissive. The idea of Hannah in nipple clamps, bound and trussed for his pleasure, really turned him on. Because it would be the woman he loved truly trusting him in every way.
“I don’t like that mischievous look on your face.” She frowned, lips pouting.
He’d like to shove his rock-hard cock past those plump lips. “Which look is that, sweetheart?”
“You remind me of a wolf about to eat a fuzzy little bunny.” His dick twitched. If she knew just how predatory he felt, she might jump out of the car.
“Thanks to my brothers, the little bunny I’m thinking of tasting right now isn’t fuzzy anymore.” Hannah gasped and turned the most perfect shade of red. “Gavin…”
“I barely got the time to look earlier. Am I right?”
As he parked the car, Hannah stayed utterly silent. Finally, she turned, wearing the naughtiest grin on her face. “This bunny might not be fuzzy anymore, but she is hopping away. For now.” She opened the door and slid out. Gavin followed, watching her ass sway.
Their talk had been more promising than he could have hoped. She hadn’t condemned him, hadn’t judged. Her understanding warmed his heart and made him more certain than ever that Hannah was the perfect woman for him. Gavin prayed like hell that he’d get his second chance.
* * * *
Slade’s stomach turned as he looked down at Preston’s body. On the surface, the man didn’t look so terribly different from the one he’d fired just hours before. He wore the same suit. His eyes were closed, but he lay too still to be merely sleeping. There was nothing left of Preston Ward in the vessel that lay before him. He was a cold, dead being.
“That’s him.” Slade forced himself to acknowledge Preston’s identity. He was relieved when the sheriff pulled the sheet back over the man’s lifeless face.
The sheriff nodded shortly. Mike Akna was a quiet but professional man. As far as Slade knew, he’d never had to handle a case like this. River Run was hardly a hotbed of activity, but Mike radiated a competence that earned Slade’s trust.
“Thanks, Mr. James. We knew who it was, but paperwork demands a formal identification of the body. We have witnesses who say you and Mr. Ward had an argument earlier today.”
“I fired him and told him to fly back to Dallas, if that’s what you mean.”
“Did you or did you not threaten to kill him?”
Slade felt his eyebrows raise. He looked to his younger brother.
“I thought this was a suicide,” Dex asked. “When your deputy called, he said Preston had hanged himself.”
Mike held Dex’s stare, gripping a notebook in his hand. “Someone wants me to believe that.” Slade’s stomach plummeted to his knees. “I didn’t kill anyone.” Dex thumped a hand across his chest to shut him up then slipped into professional mode.
“What was the time of death?”
Slade thought if Gavin hadn’t offered Dex a cushy job, he would have made a damn fine homicide detective.
“No TOD yet. Doc’s not here to take a liver temp. I have a timeline, though. The last time anyone talked to the victim was 2:35 p.m. Preston called the two techs he’d brought with him from Dallas, Scott Kirkwood and Lyle Franklin, and advised them to make arrangements to return home.”
“He’d been fired,” Slade ground out. “That wasn’t his call.”