Page 19 of Murder in Calusa Cove
Her hands moved up his back, fingers tracing over the scars and welts decorating his skin. Each scar—a testament to his life of danger and chaos—sent shivers down her spine. It was equally frightening and exhilarating knowing that this man entrusting her with his most intimate moments had faced death more times than she could count.
Hayes’s head lowered, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss, consuming her gasp as he quickened his pace. She matched his rhythm, her hips lifting to meet his while their bodies joined in a dance as old as time yet as fresh and exhilarating as the first time.
Every touch, every passionate kiss shared between them only heightened their connection. His name slipped off her tongue again and again like a chant—an endless plea for more—lost in the intoxicating whirl of splendor he drew out from deep within her.
The tight coil forming at the base of her stomach once again began to snap at his ceaseless assaults on her senses.
“Look at me,” he commanded between ragged breaths, forcing her eyes back open.
She locked gazes. Those devilishly dark orbs were filled with desperate desire and raw adoration. It set off something within her—a spark that soon ignited into a blazing flame. A look passed between them—an unspoken agreement. A silent countdown...then they toppled over the edge together this time.
As their world shattered into a thousand pieces, they clung to each other amidst the powerful waves of pleasure that washed over them. Chloe clutched Hayes’s body, nails digging into his back as she rode through her earth-shattering climax. His hot breath against her skin was the only sound echoing in the silent room as they trembled together, momentarily unable to speak.
His kisses trailed away from her mouth, down her neck, and across her collarbone. He rolled onto his back, pulling her along until she was sprawled atop him—their naked bodies still tangled in the rawness of their shared pleasure.
Hayes’s hand came up to lazily trace patterns on her forearm, a simple gesture that gave her another glimpse into the man behind this sexual force. His gaze roved over her face, brushing away errant locks of hair that stuck to her forehead.
Placing her hand on his chest, she stared at the damaged skin that lined half his upper body.
He let out a shallow breath as her fingers traced the path of a particularly large scar on his chest. “That one is from a botched mission about eight years ago,” he said, his voice tinged with an undefinable emotion. “You’ve never paid my scars any attention before. Why now?”
She tilted her head to meet his gaze, an almost apologetic smile playing on her lips. “I guess...I’ve been too caught up in my own sorrow to see yours.” The words slipped out before she even realized their weight.
Hayes was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he chuckled lightly. “Fair enough,” he conceded, absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair.
Chloe rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a sweet rhythm that sang a lullaby to her senses, lulling her towards a velvet blanket of satiation and tranquility. His fingers traced the curve of her hip in slow circles—each one stirring echoes of the morning’s passion within her.
Slowly, she twisted in his arms until she was lying on her back. There was something about this man that made her feel things she’d long since buried—feelings of vulnerability wrapped around an undeniable, inescapable hunger.
He mimicked her movement, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow to face her. His free hand traced the outline of her face gently as though memorizing every last detail; the softness of her cheek, the delicate arch of her brow, the fullness of her lips that still tasted like him.
His eyes roamed down from her face to rest upon the naked canvas of her body—a body well loved by him this morning. The sight seemed to stir something deep within him, and he closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if centering himself.
Leaning forward slightly, he pressed another gentle kiss—no longer fueled by desire but gentler...almost reverential...onto the swell of her breast, which drew a contented sigh from Chloe.
His fingers traced patterns over her exposed skin again, each touch sending a shiver down her spine. She studied his face, noting the way his lashes framed those intoxicating eyes that could take her on a journey she had never been on before.
“This morning was... amazing,” she found herself murmuring, her words barely louder than the rustling leaves outside the window.
A corner of his mouth turned up in his signature lopsided grin. “It was more than that, Chloe. It was...real.” His voice lingered on the last word as if weighing its essence. No pretense, no reservations—just honest.
Until the doorbell rang, ruining the moment.
Hayes groaned as he rolled to his side, snagging his cell from the nightstand and tapping the screen. “Shit,” he grumbled.
“Who’s here?”
“Dawson and Buddy.” He waved the image of the security camera before pulling her close, and kissing her softly.
“I should’ve known they would show up.” She let out a long breath. “Time to go back to reality.”
“We’re reality,” he said. “At least I’d like us to be.” He kissed her again. “I don’t pretend to know much about lasting relationships. I can’t promise you anything except to be honest and to be there for you. I might not have always done the former, but I think I’ve proven to be the latter and will continue to be.”
“I like you, Hayes. However, I don’t know how to separate my personal life from finding Heather’s killer.”
“And I’m not asking you to.” He cupped her chin. “I meant it when I said I wanted to help. I’m not going anywhere. I know we might not last. Nothing in life is guaranteed, and if you’re looking for a sure thing, I’m not that guy. But I am someone you can lean on right now.” He stood, hiked up his jeans over his hips, and tossed her clothing to the bed. “Take your time getting dressed. I’ll keep those two occupied for however long you need.” He strode across the bedroom, curled his fingers around the door handle, and glanced over his shoulder. “I know what happened to my twin. I held Max’s hand while he took his last breath, and it damn near killed me. I live with that memory etched in my brain every day. I can’t imagine what it’s like to know my twin was murdered and not to have justice. I want to give that to you—and your family.” Hayes slipped from the bedroom, gently closing the door.
Chloe clutched the sheets to her chest and heaved in a deep breath. A guttural sob filled her throat. She knew she wasn’t alone. Others had lost siblings to death and even murder. She’d seen her fair share of destruction over the years. Parents who lost children. Kids who lost their parents.
