Page 97 of Montana Mystery
“I love you,” he said, moving his lips to my neck. “God, Kate. I’m never going to forget the sight of you in a cage.”
I choked on a laugh. “Pretty sure that gun to your head is going to star in some nightmares.”
“The second I got that call from your phone, and it was Brandon,” he said, “I was so afraid of losing you. I’ve never felt anything like that. Torture was easy in comparison. Losing you is absolutely unthinkable to me.”
The blood was still spattered his face, and I reached up to wash it off. Bruises were darkening on his skin, and now that all the adrenaline was gone, there were places on me that ached too. The bump on my head, and where I’d been grabbed and thrown. My wrists where they’d been tied.
“He wanted you, and I wasn’t going to give you to him. I knew that if you found me gone, you’d look for me. And find me.” Unexpected emotion choked my words. For a moment, it overwhelmed me, and I was glad for the water running down my face so it would mask any tears.
“I’ll always find you,” Noah said. “Always.” Then he smiled. “But let’s try not to do that again.”
“Yeah.” I shuddered. “Yeah. Simon knows about my business now. I used it as a bargaining chip. Offering him all the empty houses since he’d lost his network. It was all I could think of.”
Noah let his forehead rest against mine. “You think he’ll still try to use it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Then we’ll tell the others. But tonight—for the rest of it—I don’t want to think about anything but the two of us.”
“I just have one question.”
“Anything,” he murmured.
“Will this make it harder for you? Your past? I would hate to be a part of that.”
“No.” Noah shook his head. “I don’t think it will. Those memories are something I’ll always struggle with. But being able to do good? Helping the animals we rescued and stopping things like guns and drugs from entering communities? Or making sure more people don’t end up like Brandon? That only helps me.
“And even if it did make it worse,” he said. “It wouldn’t be your fault. Nothing would have stopped me from coming for you.”
He kissed me again, and this wasn’t easy or lazy. It was leading somewhere. We stumbled out of the shower together, barely slowing to dry off before we collapsed on the bed. It felt like so much longer than a day since he’d touched me like this. Since I’d been able to touch him.
And I loved him. Now I could say it. Now I could think it.
Noah looked down at me, remnants of water dripping from his hair. This, yet again, felt different. Whatever we’d gone through before, we’d come through this together. And the simple act of breathing each other’s air was more intimate now.
There wasn’t time for slowness. I needed Noah inside me as much as I needed oxygen. He got a condom on, and we surged together. I wrapped my legs around his hips and he pushed in. Our groans were identical.
Everything felt like more. Fuller. More sensitive. The echoes of that first thrust rippled through my body, and I arched into his touch.
Noah dragged his lips over my collarbone. Over my chest. Tasting me wherever he could while I was busy pulling him closer. I needed to feel all of him, as much as humanly possible.
Every breath was in sync. Every movement. The frenzy that had brought us together rose under my skin. I poured all of that fear and desperation into him, the terror that had wrapped around me like claws when I’d thought he was about to die. I gave it all up and let myself fall into pleasure.
There was no making it last. No drawing it out. We went over the edge together, sharing breaths and moans and everything else.
And we didn’t stop. One orgasm ended and we barreled toward a second. Noah drove himself into me, face buried in my neck. He whispered my name into my skin, and I found my voice.
It echoed off the walls. The second orgasm was deeper than the first. It cut me open and left nothing but the love I had for him. It was one of those moments—the kind that changed your world.
I didn’t want to turn back.
Noah came with a groan, burying himself deep, the aftermath of pleasure echoing through me.
My heart pounded in my chest, sudden nerves in my stomach. I was sure that I already knew his answer, but it was still nerve-wracking saying it out loud. “Can I tell you something?”
The way we were still connected made everything that much more intense. “You can tell me anything,” Noah said with a smile. “I want you to just so I can listen to the sound of your voice.”
I swallowed, and when I spoke, it came out as a whisper. “I don’t want to go back to Missoula.” Aside from Brandon, that city no longer felt like home. Noah felt like home now. When Brandon recovered, I would do whatever it took to help him and support him. But Resting Warrior—and this man holding me—was where I wanted to be.