squirmed under him, looking for more.
“Is my impatient girl getting fed up with slow and sultry?”
“Yes! To hell with sultry. I want hard and fast.”
He drove into her in one deep thrust that made her come again. That had never happened before him. Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her and gave her fast, furious and frantic.
Sam clung to him, taking everything he had to give. She wrapped her legs around his hips and met every deep thrust of his cock with unbridled enthusiasm. Only he could make her forget the horror of the last few hours. Only he could transport her out of the insanity of their lives to a place where nothing else mattered but them and the love that sustained them.
At the beginning, she’d expected the passion between them to wane. She’d wondered if they’d survive if it became any more intense than it was then. But it was so much more now, and she’d come to crave the connection she always found with him.
“Samantha... I wish you knew how much I love you.”
“I do. I know. I love you just as much.”
“They haven’t invented a word big enough to describe it.”
She tightened her hold on him and held on until she felt him falter and then go tense as he came deep inside her, reminding her of what she’d wondered earlier and if it could possibly be true. They’d had so many disappointments. She wasn’t sure she could handle another one.
“What do we think of slow and sultry?” he asked after long minutes of contented silence.
“We love it until we want fast and furious.”
Sam felt his lips curve into a smile against her chest and continued to run her fingers through his hair. She was completely addicted to his thick, beautiful hair.
“You can always have whatever you want from me.”
“I know, and that’s what makes me completely unmanageable.”
His soft laughter went a long way toward fixing what had broken inside her earlier. He raised his head and looked down at her before he kissed her lightly. “I like you just the way you are, even when you’re completely unmanageable.”
“Good thing, because any other husband would want to shoot me most of the time.”
“I don’t want to picture you with any other husbands. You’re stuck with this one.”
“There goes my plan for a quickie Dominican divorce if Nelson is forced to resign.”
He stared at her, seeming stunned that she’d joke about such a thing. “That feels rather premeditated.”
Sam laughed and shook her head. “Just a joke. I swear.”
“Now you’ve got me worried.”
“Nick, come on. What would I ever do without you to keep me sane and sated?”
“I do keep you rather sated,” he said with a smug grin.
She brought his head back to rest on her chest. “You certainly do. I never knew it was possible to be so completely sated until I had you.”
“I don’t want you completely sated. I want you always hungry for more.”
“I believe my wanton behavior in the first year and a half of our marriage is indicative of my endless need for more.”
“You said indicative.”
She snorted with laughter. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“This. All of it. The laughter, the slow, the sultry, the fast, the furious. You were just what I needed.”
“I always want to be just what you need.”
“You’re doing a great job so far.” She patted him on the head. “Keep up the good work.”
“I’ll do my best, Lieutenant.”
She fell asleep with her arms wrapped around him and a big smile on her face.
SAM WOKE TO the phone ringing shortly before her alarm would’ve woken her. “Mmm, Holland.” She tried to shake off the cobwebs. Her body would’ve liked five more hours of sleep, but the vacation was over, and it was back to reality.
“Are you awake, Lieutenant?” Malone asked in a booming voice that told her he’d already had several cups of coffee.
Sam hated morning people. “I am now.”
“We had another shooting overnight. I wanted to give you the details before your shift.”
That news had her wide-awake. Nick slept right next to her, on his back, arm thrown over his head. She tore her gaze off his gorgeous face, got out of bed, put on a robe and took the phone across the hall to her closet, closing the door so she could focus on what the captain was telling her without disturbing Nick.
“This one was in Woodley Park.”
Sam gasped at the mention of Freddie and Elin’s neighborhood.
“Twenty-six-year-old Caroline Brinkley was picked off on Woodley Road Northwest at about three-thirty this morning.”
“Any witnesses?”
“None. She was alone, and no one else was on the street at that time.”
“Where was she coming from? Do we know?”
“Detective Cruz is at the scene trying to find out more.”
“I’ll meet him there.”
“And then come back here. We’ve got to get our heads around this before the shooter has a chance to strike again. The press is clamoring for information.”
“I can only imagine. I’ll see you soon.” Sam took a fast shower and got dressed in shorts and a lightweight top, preparing for another long, hot day pounding the pavement. She put her hair up in a messy bun and slathered on sunscreen.
Fifteen minutes after she ended the call with Malone, she had kissed her sleeping husband, retrieved her weapon and cuffs from the bedside drawer and was on her way downstairs. She was surprised to find their assistant, Shelby, in the kitchen with her newborn son, Noah, attached to her in some sort of elaborate harness thingie. She’d rescinded her earlier resignation and returned like nothing had ever happened, which had been a relief to Sam and Nick.
As always, the sight of a baby did funny things to Sam’s insides, and reminded her that she needed to procure a pregnancy test without alerting the world to her suspicions. Difficult task, that.
“What’re you guys doing here?” Sam asked Shelby while taking a second to play with the baby’s foot. He had a light dusting of blond hair and pudgy cheeks. “You’re supposed to be on leave.”
“We were awake and feeling kinda cooped up, so we decided to come see what’s going on over here. You’re up early.”
“I’m going to work.”
“I heard about the shootings and wondered if they’d called you back.”
“Yep, I went back yesterday.”
“It’s so awful that someone is driving around shooting at innocent people. I hope you catch them before anyone else is hurt or killed.”
Sam grabbed a banana from a bowl on the counter. Even during her maternity leave, Shelby made sure their weekly grocery delivery arrived on schedule. “That’s the plan.” After a pause, she said, “So, um, I need a favor, and I don’t want you to say a single word other than ‘okay’ if you’re able to help me, because I can’t talk about it.