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Safe Words and Coming Home

Chapter Twenty-Five: Safe Words and Coming Home

    I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. Part of me wanted to laugh, but I knew better. I knew that if I gave him the go ahead, Vincent would track Peter down and wipe him out of existence. It was a heady kind of power, one that I had never experienced, and it scared me. What scared me even more was that I was considering it.

    What was that old saying? Evil only prevails when good men do nothing?

    "You would do it." I murmured, brushing my fingertips along the muscle feathering his strong jaw. "Wouldn't you?"

    "In a heartbeat."

    "Even though he's a cop?"

    There was a wicked edge to Vincent's grin. "Especially because he's a cop."

    At that I did laugh. The sound was breathy and didn't sound like my own. "Let's put a pin in that for now."

    "You're actually thinking about it?"

    "I would rather find a way to put him behind bars, because if I stoop to that level, I'm no better than him. But if the opportunity rises, I'd be stupid to overlook it. He's hurt more than just my family." I gave him a wry smile. "The bad guy only ever has the chance to come back in the stories because the hero took the high road."

    "And you're not a hero?"

    "Hell no. And neither are you."

    There was something like pride shining in those green depths as he stared at me. I would be a liar if I said that look on his face didn't cause my whole body to flush in response. Without questioning myself, for once, I tangled my fingers in his soft hair. His pupils blew out as he met me halfway, his arms tightening in an entirely different way than they had only moments before. Within the span of a breath, teeth and tongue were fighting for dominance, and the lust that had banked since we entered my apartment came back with a vengeance.

    I couldn't get close enough to him.

    In a movement I was quickly coming to love, Vincent hitched my legs up around his waist. He walked us back until he could set me on the counter, and then he settled himself between my thighs. A low moan dragged out of my throat as his erection pressed against me through our clothes. Goosebumps erupted over every inch of my skin as he skimmed his hands under the collar of my jacket, pushing it down my arms with a deliberateness that ached. I nearly growled at him.

    "So impatient," he murmured, his breath coasting over my collarbone as he peppered kisses along my skin.

    "Don't even start with me."

    He laughed, the bastard, then continued his slow perusal. Once my arms were out of my jacket, he pitched it in the direction of the dining room. It missed the chair, but neither of us really cared at the moment. With the lightest touch, he drew my arms back up to wrap around his neck. His eyes were on mine as his fingers closed around the bottom of my top. His eyebrows arched, and I nodded at his unspoken question. He dragged the shirt over my head with the same agonizing slowness he had used with the jacket. The cool air in the apartment swept over my skin once my shirt was gone, and my nipples pebbled in an instant. Vincent's eyes raked over the newly exposed skin, and there was a hunger in his gaze that I knew was reflected in my own. My hands grasped at his jacket, but he caught my wrists before I could divest him of it.

    "I wanted to take my time with you last night," he said, the darkness in his deep voice an entirely different beast than the one I was used to. "I blew that all to hell. So let me have this."