“I should make you stop,” she said, though the threat would have had more teeth had it not been issued on a breathless sigh.

“All it takes is one word. Two letters. Starts with N.”

He held his breath, praying she wouldn’t say it. Seconds ticked by, and slowly, her body relaxed.

Grant let out a breathless sigh of his own. He let go of her hands and scooted down her body, being careful not to abrade her skin on his jeans. The rasp of denim on flesh made her shiver, but not nearly as much as his tongue did as it slid over her collarbone.

He spaced kisses between licks and soft bites as he worked his way down her body. He wasn’t normally the kind of guy who left a mark, but with Isabelle, he couldn’t help himself. He sucked her skin against his teeth, leaving behind little love bites wherever he passed.

She took hold of his hair and guided him where she wanted him to go. A dark grin stretched his mouth as he gave in to her wishes and suckled her breasts as she demanded.

Fingernails bit into his scalp, and her whole body shuddered beneath him.

Grant lingered only long enough to sate her before he pressed her thighs wide and settled between them. The scent of her arousal filled the air and made his teeth ache with the need to taste her. He knew firsthand just how sweet she was and how her sexy whimpers made his head swell. Both of them.

She hadn’t let go of his hair, but Grant didn’t mind. He knew just where to go and what to do. He kissed a path to her hip, in the hollow between her hip bone and her stomach. With a light touch, he ran his tongue along the area until he found just the right spot, the one that made her twitch and gasp every time he touched it.

Isabelle hissed and her grip tightened, telling Grant he’d hit gold. He sucked her skin as he slid two fingers along her slick labia, teasing her just a moment before he eased his way right inside, nice and easy. Her muscles tightened around his fingers and he sucked harder, tightening his teeth against her skin just a bit. Just enough to let her feel it.

A rush of wetness drenched his fingers, and a long, slow cry bubbled up out of her throat. Her body contracted, then shuddered, and the grip around his fingers tightened as an orgasm shook her body.

Grant smiled in victory, but he wasn’t done yet. Not even close. While the climax was still shimmering through her, he found her clit and flicked his tongue over the distended little button. His fingers filled her while his knuckles grazed against her sweet spot with every stroke.

She hadn’t even caught her breath from the last orgasm before he was driving her toward the next. He’d never get enough of hearing her like this, never get enough of feeling her clench around his fingers, or his cock.

As he forced the second climax from her body, Isabelle nearly ripped Grant’s hair out. She was panting and tugging hard at his hair to get him to take her.

That was more than fine with him. He found a condom in his pocket, shed his jeans, and covered himself before Isabelle came to her senses. He flipped her onto her stomach and slid into her from behind, just like he’d been aching to do since the moment he saw the idea darken her eyes with lust.

She was soft and wet from her orgasm, and he slid in so easy it was like breathing. Her body was hot against his, hot around his, and so tight it had him panting.

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed deep. She smelled so fucking good, tasted even better. He nudged her hair aside and kissed her neck as he started moving inside her. Long, slow thrusts that wouldn’t irritate her sensitized tissues but would keep her nice and hot and aching for more.

Soon, Isabelle was shaking again, struggling to pull in a full breath. Grant rolled them to their sides and stroked her hip, finding that spot he knew made her crazy. His fingertip hit the place Grant had marked with his teeth, and she twitched as if he’d applied an electric current.

“Too much,” she told him.

“Just go with it. I promise you’ll like it.” And to prove his point, he pressed his hips forward and locked hers in place so she had no choice but to accept his deep thrust.

She moaned, and her hand fisted in the sheets.

She was close, which was good, because Grant wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer and he needed to hear her come for him just one more time.

Sweat dripped down his back as he worked to bring her pleasure while staving off his own impending orgasm. That telltale shudder shook her body, and Grant knew she was close. He reached around and cupped her breast, catching her nipple between his fingers. She went tense, and her toes curled against his shins as the first wave of her climax washed over her.

The sound she let out was a clear, shimmering cry of pleasure, and it sent Grant right over the edge. Her body rippled around him, squeezing his cock so hard he lost control. He thrust into her, rolling her onto her stomach so he could ride her harder, deeper. Sizzling currents raced through his blood and sent shockwave after shockwave of release through him.

Minutes later, he regained enough sense to realize he was crushing Isabelle. He rolled off, regretting the need to leave the sweet clinging heat of her body. He wrapped the spent condom in tissue and tossed it in the trash. Even that much effort made his arms shake.

Sweat cooled on his chest and thighs as Isabelle rolled over and curled against his side.

Grant held her close and refused to let himself think about anything more than the pounding of his heart. Every time he started thinking, he got himself into trouble, and he wasn’t willing to sacrifice even a second of this time with her, right here, right now.

Much later, as the sun set, Isabelle rose up over him with that wicked smile back in place.

“My turn,” she told him as she moved down his body and slid her lips over his cock.

Grant didn’t think he had any starch left in him, but Isabelle proved him wrong. One swipe of her tongue and he was hard again, throbbing with need and ready to let her do as she pleased.

She did, and although he wasn’t sure he was going to live through it, he didn’t really mind.

Trina woke up in a strange place. Her eyes were blurry and took a moment to adjust, but when they did, she saw the rundown walls of a cheap motel room. Water stains wept down one corner, and the graying edges of dated wall-paper curled up to collect dust.

She tried to lift her head to look around, but she was dizzy. Her whole body felt heavy, weak. A whimper of fear slid out of her, and a second later, the face of her husband’s killer appeared.

“You’re awake. That’s good. I wasn’t sure you’d wake up in time.” He gave her a gentle smile that made his blue eyes crinkle and her skin crawl.

There was something so familiar about his eyes, but no matter how hard she tried, no matter whether or not he wore a mask, she couldn’t remember who he was or why she felt she should know him.

He stroked her cheek and she felt the cling of latex gloves over her skin. “Are you comfortable?”

Comfortable? She almost laughed but stopped herself before making the mistake. Her head throbbed where she’d hit the wall. She didn’t need another lesson in how the killer dealt with anger.

“What am I doing here?”

He was wearing a white suit of some kind over his clothes. “It’s not your turn, but I’m changing the rules. The police know too much, so now it’s your turn.”

The police were looking for her? A fragile thread of hope grew inside her, driving away some of the fear she’d been living with for weeks. “My turn for what?”

“Freedom.”

“You’re going to let me go?” she asked, letting that thread of hope swell.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I know how hard it must have been for you. At least you had the medicine to help you sleep through it.”

Trina had no idea what he was talking about. Had he done something to her in her sleep? Raped her?

She didn’t think so. Surely she would have felt sore if he had—there would have been some sign.

Unless he’d been gentle, like he was being now.

Her stomach heaved, and she found the strength to lean over the side of the bed before she vomited onto the floor.

The killer stroked her hair and spoke soft, comforting words. “It’ll all be better soon. Just lie back down. I’m going to make it all better.”

She was shaking by the time she flopped back onto the pillow. Whatever he’d injected her with was still clinging to her, sapping her strength, exhausting her. She tried to fight it, but she was already feeling the tug of sleep. Maybe he’d given her too much this time. “Please, I need help.”

“I know. Just hang on. I just need one more thing before I free you.”

Trina felt a sharp sting in her scalp and saw him tuck a few strands of her hair into a plastic bag. He sealed it and moved out of sight for a moment.

When he came back, he had a long knife in one gloved hand and a can of hairspray or something in the other. He smiled down at her and said, “It’s time.”

In that instant, Trina realized he was going to kill her. He wasn’t going to let her go.

She screamed, but only a squeak came out before her mouth filled with a sharp medicinal stench. A second later, her body fell away and she couldn’t drag in enough air to fill her lungs, much less scream.

“Don’t be afraid,” he told her. “I’ll be right here with you.”

Tears of panicked fear leaked from Trina’s eyes as he propped her limp body against the headboard.

“It’ll be faster this way.”

Her mind reeled at the thought of what was going to be faster, stumbling over the terrifying possibilities.

He positioned her arms and legs to his liking, then took the knife and jammed it into her body.

Disbelief seized her mind until he lifted the bloody blade and plunged it down again. Blood sprayed across his white clothes. Her blood.

Trina tried to move but couldn’t. She was frozen in place. Helpless. He was killing her, and all she could do was lie there and watch in horror as blood leaked out, soaking the cheap bedspread.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he explained as he plunged the knife in over and over, “but Wyatt is a cruel man. The police have to believe this is his handiwork.”

Trina’s body shook with each blow, but she was unable to move.

His face came into view, and it was spattered with her blood. He gave her a gentle smile. “I’m going to find an artery now so it will be over fast.”

Fast. The small part of her mind that accepted her fate decided that was a good thing. She only wished she knew why he was doing this. Why had he killed her husband? Why was he killing her?

Her eyes fell shut, and she could no longer keep them open. There was an odd fluttering in her chest, and she thought it was strange to feel that when she couldn’t feel anything else.

Her body shook again, and she felt the pressure of his blow deep in her gut. “No more nightmares for you, Trina. You’re safe now.”

Safe. Such bullshit.

“Sleep now,” he whispered. She could hear his voice close to her ear but couldn’t find the strength to open her eyes and look at him, much less flinch away from him. “It’s safe to sleep now.”

Trina didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t stay awake any longer.