Page 65 of Serve ’N’ Protect

Christ. As usual, he was incapable of putting his emotions into words. With the tip of his finger, he nudged a lock of blond hair behind her ear. “Are you okay?”

The way he’d taken her, thrusting hard and fast, wasn’t how he’d planned during the entire drive home from the central detention facility. Then, he’d been planning on walking in the door, telling her everything that went down, then easing into the sex slowly. But one look into those gorgeous blue eyes, and he’d lost it. Everything he wanted to say, every emotion he couldn’t give voice to, had deserted him the second he’d seen her.

She nodded. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He’d just had amazing sex with the woman he’d been thinking of nonstop, and he was still inside her. If he got his way, he’d remain there for the rest of the night or what was left of it, bringing them both to orgasm at least twice more before sacking out.

“I meant your injuries. Your stitches may be out, but you’re still healing on the inside.”

“I’m good.” Better than good, actually. He was…content? No, whatever he was feeling, it was way past content. If she asked him to leap a twenty-story building, he’d bet he could do it. Or run a marathon in under two hours carrying a field ops backpack loaded with fifty pounds of gear. Yeah, he could do all that. Because she makes me feel that damned good.

“Thank you for the flowers, but you didn’t have to do that.” She trailed her finger down the center of his chest, grinning. “Then again, I did make you cookies.”

She certainly had, and those cookies meant more to him than he could possibly explain. “I sent them because…” He’d just gone with how he’d felt right at that moment. “Because I wanted to.”

“Well, it was very thoughtful.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Mr. Thoughtful.”

She tapped his chest. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened tonight?” she asked, trashing his plans to grab another condom for an instant replay. Knowing Cassidy, she wouldn’t let up until she’d fully debriefed him the way McMurray had. To say his boss wasn’t happy that he’d disobeyed a direct order and gone into the field to interview a murder suspect while out on IOD—injured on duty—was a major understatement.

“Give me a minute.” Regretfully, he eased out of her and quickly disposed of the condom in the bathroom. After cleaning himself up, he found her under the covers, her beautiful lithe body covered up to her neck with the beige comforter. Way too much comforter obscuring his view of the most perfect set of breasts that he could suck on for a very long time.

Hoping he could change her train of thought, he snagged another condom, tossing it on the table before sliding beneath the covers, intentionally pulling them away from her body so he could admire every sexy, enticing curve with his eyes first, then with his roving hands.

“Tell me what happened,” she insisted, and when he began teasing her nipple between his fingers, she latched on to his wrist. “No more distractions. Spill it, York.”

Her insistence had him chuckling. After sex, most women wanted to snuggle and pepper him with questions about what he was thinking. Not Cassidy. She wanted to grill him about Mansfield.

He rolled onto his back, propping a pillow beneath his head. Another round of sex would have to wait, although, in truth, talking about Mansfield would save him from having to address the unfamiliar emotions swirling around in his head, trying unsuccessfully to break free. “Turns out the guy did it for love.”

For the next ten minutes, he described how it all went down, including Mansfield’s romantic, protective motives.

“Misguided though he was, to say the least,” Cassidy said, “he wanted to protect the person he loved most in the world.”

There it was again. Love. The biggest of all emotions, or so he’d been told, and one about which he still felt clueless. So why did he think of Cassidy, see her face, every time that one little word came up? And why did the thought of someone hurting her have him seeing through a blood-red haze?

Not for the first time in his life, he wondered if he was capable of such extreme emotions. The kind that made a man kill for love.

“So it’s really over?”

“It’s really over.” He lifted her hand to his lips and began kissing her slim fingers one by one as he soaked in her guileless beauty. So few people were as pure of heart as she was. That dickhead Hugh’s loss was his gain.

He leaned over to kiss her but stopped, taking in the worry and sadness in her clear blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ll be leaving soon.”

“I don’t have to go right away.” In fact, he planned to do the rest of his IOD time right where he was. Living next to Cassidy during the day, being in her bed every night. “I won’t be cleared for duty for weeks. I also have vacation days that I haven’t used.”

“But you’ll leave. Eventually, I mean.” She tried pulling away, but he interlaced their fingers, preventing her from escaping.

“Yes. I’ll go back to work. I have to.” When the smooth skin above her nose wrinkled, he wished he could miraculously cough up some meaningful words. He knew he should say something to ease her fears, but this was all new to him, these nameless, faceless feelings he couldn’t voice. If he didn’t figure something out and fast, he’d lose her before he even worked out what to do with whatever was growing between them. “I live two hours from here. We can get together on weekends.”

Her frown deepened, telling him he was royally fucking this up. What she wanted were flowery words, emotional promises that he might not have in him. Ever. But dammit, he had to try. Never seeing her again after he returned to duty… His insides twisted with misery.

“Cassidy.” Needing more physical contact but knowing he was in a dicey situation, he settled for stroking her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. Say it. If you can’t tell her how you feel, tell her what you want. “I want to spend more time with you. I want to see where this goes.”

Wanting a woman to stick around in his life was a new theme, one he never imagined would happen. He held his breath, waiting for her to respond.