Fear For Me: A Novel of the Bayou Butcher (For Me #2)(21)
Author: Cynthia Eden

In so many ways, no one knew her better than he did.

So many.

He tore his mouth from hers. Began to kiss her neck. Right there, over her pulse. Her heart was racing so fast, pounding and pounding in a frantic beat that matched his own desperate heart. He had her back where he wanted her. Beneath him, in bed. With him.

This was where she belonged.

His fingers slid over her br**sts. Stroking the ni**les.

This was—

“I—I can’t…”

Her voice. The husky timbre rolled right through him, but her words…his back teeth clenched as he glanced up at her face.

Her breath came in fast pants. Her ni**les were tight with arousal, but the woman was saying—

“Let me go, Anthony.”

No. Never.

That wasn’t what the good guy was supposed to do. His eyes closed and he gulped in deep breaths. Then he forced himself to let her go. To bend and pull the sheet up, over her, concealing the flesh he wanted so very badly.

The sound of his heaving breaths seemed far too loud in the small hotel room. Lauren was too close, but she’d never seemed farther away.

“I won’t apologize.” Not for kissing her. Touching her. He caught her blue gaze. So damn blue. “You wanted me, too. Want me.” It wasn’t past tense, not for either of them.

“Just because you want something…” She shook her head, sending her hair feathering over her shoulders. “It doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”

No, they’d never been good for each other. Too hot. Too intense.

“I’m not ready to get hurt again by you.”

Her words sliced right through him. Was that what she thought? That he’d hurt her?

“Maybe I should find somewhere else to stay.” She tucked the sheet under her arms, making sure to keep her br**sts covered. “Until the team is done with my house, I can stay—”

“You’re not staying with the cop.” The words were snarled. His nostrils flared as he drank in her scent.

She stared at him, then whispered, “No.”

He shouldn’t ask. He shouldn’t. “You had sex with him.” It wasn’t asking. It was confirming. The jealousy was back, knifing him in the gut.

She flinched. She was there, naked, everything he’d ever wanted just inches away. But he couldn’t touch her.

Lauren had said no.

“What I do…who I do it with, that’s my business.”

Lauren’s mistake had been that she never realized exactly how dangerous he truly was—or how much he wanted her. “How many f**king times?” He surged to his feet. He had to put distance between them.

“I’m not asking who you’ve been with!” Lauren threw at him. “I don’t want to know.”

His hands tightened into fists. “That’s the difference between us.” He looked back at her. In bed. So sexy that his c**k ached. “I want to know every damn thing about you.”

“You don’t have a right to know—”

“Two more minutes, and I would have been in you.”

Her breath sucked in on a sharp gasp. “Go back to your room.”

He was screwing this up. He always screwed things up with her. Never said the right thing. Never did the right thing.

He headed for the door.

Stopped.

Confessed. “The women I’ve been with…they were you.”

“That doesn’t make any—”

“At first, it was because I was pissed at losing you. I didn’t even realize why I was with the blonde.” He glanced over his shoulder. “When I called her by your name, then I knew.”

There was shock on her face.

“In the dark, they’re always you.” He knew it was screwed up. He was screwed up. His jaw locked. He’d pushed enough, and if he didn’t get out of there right then, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away from her. He grabbed for the door and left.

Pierce Hamilton stared out at the darkness just beyond his bedroom window. His wife was behind him, sleeping deeply, the sound of her even breathing filling the room.

There was no sleep for him.

A cop was downstairs. The patrol car was parked right in front of his house. Protection.

Only there were some things you couldn’t be protected from in this world.

He’d seen so many murderers step into his courtroom over the years. Seen ra**sts, child molesters, abusers. He’d done his job. He’d put them behind bars. Some of the cases—they stayed with him. They kept a tight hold on him no matter what he did.

When he’d been with Karen, he’d been able to forget some of the darkness. He’d been able to live, to breathe.

Karen.

Beautiful Karen, with her wide smile and gorgeous, golden skin.

Gone.

He glanced back at the bed. His wife was still sleeping. Did he love her? Had he ever?

Her family’s money had made things easier. His law school. His time in the DA’s office. Money and connections could make anything easier.

But they couldn’t stop the nightmares.

So many killers. So many cases. For fifteen years, he’d been on the bench.

He glanced away from his wife. Stared into the darkness.

He hadn’t been able to get near Karen’s body, not once it had been transferred to the ME’s office. He would see her, though. Once more. He knew just the strings to pull. Just the connections to work.

The attack on Karen had been personal. A dig at Lauren? No, at me.

Because Karen was the one thing that had mattered to him in this world. The only thing.

That SOB Walker had known that. He’d told Pierce, that last day in court…I’ll take away everything you love.

Another threat. He got plenty of those. As he’d banged his gavel and sentenced Walker to an eternity behind bars, he hadn’t cared much about threats.

After all, what could the guy do while he was locked up? But he wasn’t locked up anymore.

And Karen was gone.

“Hamilton?” His wife’s voice. She never called him Pierce. Just Hamilton. “Come back to bed.”

He stared into the darkness.

Wondered how much longer it would be before it was his turn to die.

He forced himself to turn and face her. So very different from Karen. Julia was poised and perfect, even when she should have been rumpled from sleep.

Always so perfect.

Ice-cold.

But the killer hadn’t come for her.

My Karen.

“The woman who was killed…”

Julia reached out and turned on the bedside lamp. “She was the one you were screwing.” Her words were flat. The light fell on the right side of her face. “This time.”