Cynthia Eden

Into The Night


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the attraction, just as she had. But he’d been following the rules.

      Screw the rules. For that night, anyway. They could go back to playing things safe the next day. Dawn would bring safety. For the darkness, though, in the darkness, safety was the last thing she wanted.

      Her clothes were in the way. His were in the way. She wanted to be skin to skin with him. Wanted to feel every single inch of his body against hers. But...

      Scars. She always worked so hard to cover her arms.

      She pulled away from him and her lashes lifted as she stared into Bowen’s eyes.

      “Changing your mind?” Bowen growled. “Better do it now—”

      Macey shook her head. No way was she changing her mind. Then, still staring at him, she began to unbutton her blouse. His gaze fell to her chest and then his eyes narrowed. When the shirt hit the floor, he’d see her scars. But...this was Bowen. She trusted him.

      Wasn’t that why she was there? Because she knew she could trust this one man?

      She let the shirt fall, and, by habit, she started to curl her arms inward, but Bowen had stepped forward. He caught her wrists. Held them ever so carefully in his grip. His thumbs feathered over her pulse points. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

      “And you have on too many clothes,” she whispered back.

      He laughed. The sound was deep and rumbling and she realized that she hadn’t really heard him laugh much. With their job, there wasn’t ever much to laugh about but...he had a nice laugh. It made little butterflies swirl inside of her.

      “That’s an easy problem to solve.” Once more, his thumbs slid along her wrists, but then he freed her, and he went to work on his clothes. As she watched, he tore off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. He kicked off his shoes and ditched his socks, and his pants followed as they slid to the floor. She didn’t look away. Didn’t pretend not to be avidly curious about his body. And what a body it was. Strong and tan. Sexy-as-hell abs. Powerful thighs and—

      He pushed down his boxers.

      She released a quick breath. He was exactly what she wanted. She reached for his cock, but, once more, his hand curled around her wrist.

      “Sweetheart, I’ve been dreaming about you far too long. You touch me like that, and what control I have will be shot straight to hell.”

      Macey licked her lips and swore she tasted him. “That’s okay. You don’t need to maintain control with me.”

      But he shook his head. “You’re the one person I need it with the most.”

      No, he was—

      He used his grip to pull her closer. Right before his lips took hers, he said, “I’m going to put my mouth on every single inch of you.”

      A shiver slid over her. “Promises, promises...”

      “Exactly,” he told her, and then he took her mouth once more.

      * * *

      MACEY NIGHT AND Bowen Murphy had arrived too late. As soon as the victim had turned up in the FBI’s computer system, he’d known that Macey would make the connection to Daniel Haddox. And, just as he’d anticipated, she’d hauled ass getting up to Hiddlewood, North Carolina.

      She just hadn’t hauled ass quite fast enough. She hadn’t beat him to Daniel’s cabin. In this particular race, she’d come in dead last.

      No, that was Daniel. He’s the dead one.

      He stared into the night. Macey and Bowen had gone back to their motel. Was Macey happy, now that Daniel was gone? Did she even realize the gift he’d given to her? Macey hadn’t needed to face the darkness in herself. She hadn’t needed to finally discover...

      Will I kill him when I see him? Or will I be able to take him in like a good FBI agent?

      He’d saved her the trouble of finding out just what choice she’d make. Though he knew, deep inside, what she’d wanted.

      She wanted him dead. I know it. So...he’d made that happen for her. She didn’t have to pretend that she wanted to follow the law. Didn’t have to be the good FBI agent. She could enjoy Daniel’s death.

      I gave him exactly what he deserved, Macey. Exactly.

      The Doctor had experienced the same torturous pain that he’d given his patients. The bastard had been screaming his fool head off the entire time. He’d also been fighting...because Haddox hadn’t been drugged. There hadn’t been time for that.

      Some criminals weren’t meant for a jail cell. Why waste time with a trial? Haddox had been guilty as sin, and he’d been punished for his crimes.

      Just as others would soon be punished.

      Another race, another kill. Maybe the FBI agents would be better prepared this time, now that the game was truly in play.

      He turned away from the mountain and headed for his car. The night was still young. He could easily get to his next target. After all, he knew exactly where his prey was waiting. He’d worked hard to uncover the monsters in the dark.

      Now I know where they are. And I will stop them.

      When dawn came, Macey and Bowen would get news of another crime. He’d make sure of it. Another race, another killer. He hoped they’d be ready. After all, he had big plans for them both. Very, very big.

      Don’t disappoint me, Agents.

       CHAPTER THREE

      BOWEN’S HANDS SLID over Macey’s shoulders, then smoothed down her arms. She shivered lightly at his touch and her lips parted.

      He had his hands on Macey. This wasn’t a damn dream. She was real. And he was having her. When he’d opened the door and seen her standing there, he’d thought something was wrong. It was late, it was dark, and Macey—why would she come to him in the middle of the night unless something had happened with their case?

      But this wasn’t about the case. This was about them. And he did not want to screw this up.

      “You’re taking too long,” Macey said. Her voice was husky and seemed to stroke right over his skin. Her hands went to her waist and her pants were soon sliding down her gorgeous legs. She’d ditched her shoes—he didn’t even know when she’d kicked off her heels but now she stood before him clad just in a black bra and a black pair of panties. Her body was freaking perfection to him. High, full breasts, curving hips and legs that would soon be wrapped around his waist as he drove into her again and again and made her scream with pleasure.

      Because he wanted Macey to scream for him. Scream, come, repeat—again and again. He was planning for one hell of a night.

      Her hands started to slide down her panties.

      But he caught her, pulled her into his arms and carried her toward the bed. She gave a little gasp as he held her, and damn but she felt too light. So delicate. He’d have to remember that about Macey. Sometimes, he just saw her strength. But there was more to her. So much more.

      He put her on the bed. She stared up at him, her arms braced behind her. The bra she wore was sexy as sin—pushing up her breasts—and he just had to touch her. He followed her onto the bed, and, as promised, he began to taste Macey. Every single inch. Because he’d wanted to have his mouth on her for a very long time.

      Bowen knew he was breaking the rules. He just didn’t care. For Macey, he’d do just about anything. Pity she didn’t realize that.

      He slid down the straps of her bra. First one, then the other. He put his hands on her breasts, stroking the nipples, teasing them, and then he took one sweet nipple into his mouth and sucked her. She gasped and her body arched up against him.

      He licked