Forbidden (Blood Ties #7)

He was dressed in black slacks and a black open-collared shirt. His hair glistened as though still damp. Had he showered? I inhaled the rich scent of soap on his skin. He had, and I hadn’t heard a damn thing. My body hummed as goosebumps raced. Even now I was ready for him, craving his cruel caresses and his devastating devotion. One look in his eyes and I felt the burn of his hunger.

“You need to shower and get dressed.”

“Now?” I pushed up, realizing my hand was free.

There was no sign of the cuffs anywhere.

“Yes, now,” he answered. “Your clothes are in the bathroom. We need to leave.”

“Leave?”

He scowled for a second, anger flaring with his clenched jaw. “Yes, Helene, we’re leaving.”

I wanted to demand where…but he wasn’t in the mood for more questions, and right now, I needed time to think. I gave a slow nod and slipped from the bed, padding into the bathroom, expecting him to follow. But he didn’t, leaving me to peel the still come-stained bodysuit free and toss it to the floor.

I smelled of him.

My own scent was smothered by his desire.

I scowled, wrestled the flushed heat of desire that followed, and hit the faucet.

The hot water steamed up the shower as I stepped inside. Black on black shifted in the bedroom as he paced. I grabbed the soap and lathered. Something had changed in the last few hours while I’d been asleep. Something I needed to understand.

Harmon.

It had to be.

Was the new shipment of Daughters finally at The Order? Is that where he was taking me? If that was the case, then Hale could also be there. My thoughts raced, finally shaking off the fog. If only I could get a message to London. I stilled, my hand cupping my tender breast. I looked down, to see the peak reddened from the graze of his teeth. No, London wouldn’t wait. He’d descend, all guns and rage, driving every tiny scrap of information we might find underground.

No.

I needed to be careful. I needed to wait. I swallowed hard, quickly washed the rest of my body, and turned off the water, then stepped out. Jeans, underwear, a t-shirt, and a black sweater sat neatly folded on the vanity. I dried and dressed, and stepped into the bedroom.

Socks. Boots…and Riven.

He nodded to the rest of my things. “We need to leave.”

I pulled them on, watching him from the corner of my eye. The gun still in his hand made me cautious. I tugged the laces around my boots and rose, meeting his stare. If he was going to kill me, then he wouldn’t have cared if I’d showered or not.

Either way, his DNA was all over me.

Teeth marks on my breasts.

The trace of his come, still deep inside.

He wasn’t disposing of evidence, that I was sure of.

One motion of his hand and I headed out of the bedroom, past the kitchen and into the garage. The almost black sky waited outside. He hit the button behind me and the lights to the Range Rover flashed and the doors unlocked.

Silence followed as I climbed inside.

I should be fighting.

At least pretending to.

But I didn’t.

I climbed in, closed the door behind me, and reached for the seatbelt as he slid in behind the wheel.