He raised his right hand to within inches of her face. “See the scar?” A faint white line bisected his palm. “While my dad lay dying, I cut both our palms, pressed them together, and took a blood oath to get the bastard.” Wryly, he added, “It’s taken one hell of a long time. All my adult life. And I’m still working on it.”

With gruffness in his voice, he continued. “I wouldn’t trade for those last minutes with Dad, though. When I made that vow, he cried. It was the most naked emotion I’d ever seen from him. Ever. In my life. It was the closest he and I ever came to having a genuine father-son relationship. He died later that day.”

She took his hand and kissed the palm, openmouthed. “He loved you very much.”

He looked at her with doubt.

“Perhaps he took you away to spite or to wound your mother, but maybe he saw Weston for what he was and feared for you.”

“Maybe,” he said grudgingly. “That has occurred to me.”

“Drex, if he hadn’t loved you and wanted you with him, he could have dumped you anywhere along the way, and at any time. It couldn’t have been easy for a single man working on the pipeline to rear a child alone.”

“He felt an obligation to me, maybe. But he had lost the will to live.”

“Then why didn’t he kill himself and be done with it? Leave you to your own devices?” She raised her eyebrows in question.

He gave her a hard look, but he didn’t say anything.

“He loved you. Believe it.” She settled close to him again. “How do you feel toward your mother?”

“I vacillate between deep resentment over her letting me go and sorrow for the fate she must’ve suffered. Fair to say that I’m conflicted?”

“Fair to say.”

They lay quietly for several minutes, then he placed his forearm across his eyes and moaned.

“What?”

“I finally got you naked in bed. I should be talking dirty to you, not blathering all this maudlin crap.”

“You can still talk dirty.” She slid her hand beneath the sheet. It took only one stroke to bring him erect. She laughed. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

“I told you a sad story. Are you doing this out of pity?”

“I don’t think anyone would pity a man so well endowed.”

He flashed a grin that would have done the devil proud.

“But even if it is out of pity, do you want me to stop?” she teased.

“Hell, no. Have at it.”

She rolled onto him and began dropping kisses on his chest.

“Talia?”

“Don’t bother me, I’m busy.”

“I just want to ask—”

“Later.”

She opened her thighs and guided him in. He hissed swear words as she slowly sank down onto him and began rocking. He grunted with pleasure. “And I thought the first time was good.” He angled himself up in order to reach her breasts. His mouth was hot and avid, and left her nipples wet with loving.

When he lay back, he gripped her hips between his hands and coaxed her, coached her, cajoled her in the raunchiest language. Several minutes later, on short puffs of breath, he said, “Have at it. That’s what I said. But, sweetheart…God a’mighty.”

He slid his hand between them. His revolving thumb worked its magic, and half a minute later, she lay sated atop his heaving chest.

When she had regained her breath, she whispered, “You were saying?”

“Hmm?”

“Before I had my way with you, you were about to ask me something.”

“Oh. Never mind.”

“No, ask.”

He combed his fingers through her hair and rearranged it on her shoulders.

“I remember you doing that last night when you came up to the guest room.”

“I couldn’t keep myself from touching you. I’d have rather put my hands inside those ugly pajamas, but I settled for stroking your hair.”

“It was nice. The kind of touch I needed then. What were you going to ask?”

He hesitated. “When we were in the shower, you said it was nice to be needed. You practically asked permission to give me the best damn hand job ever.”

“Really?”

“Don’t get me off the subject. What I’m wondering is…You don’t have to tell me. You owe me no explanation. I just—”

“Jasper neither invited or welcomed attention like that. He didn’t…He never said, ‘Have at it.’”

He didn’t respond immediately, and when he did, it wasn’t to pursue the topic of her relationship with Jasper. “I probably could have said something a little more romantic.”

“It was romantic to me.”

He tipped her head up. His eyes moved over her face, taking in every feature. He ran his thumb along her lower lip. “Sleepy?”

“I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open.”

“Let’s go to sleep.” His reach was long enough to turn off the lamp on the night table.

Talia was about to move off him, but he wrapped his arms around her, one under her bottom, the other just below her shoulders. He raised his head and pecked a kiss, then left his lips against hers. “Stay here.”

“Like this?”

“Just like this.” He dabbed the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. “I’m not ready to leave you yet.”

“I may get heavy.”

“I may snore.”

She returned her cheek to his chest and closed her eyes, feeling more languid and safe than she could ever remember feeling. “You thought my pajamas were ugly?”

He answered with a soft snore.

Chapter 33

At some point during the wee hours, Drex had disengaged from Talia, moved her off him, and turned her onto her side so they could spoon. He woke up with his arm tingling from having gone to sleep supporting her head. He checked the clock on the night table and was surprised by the time. He hadn’t planned to sleep that long. It would be daylight soon.

As tempting as it was to stay snuggled with Talia, he had thinking to do.

He eased his arm from beneath her head and scooted off the bed without waking her. He took only his phone and pistol with him as he tiptoed from the bedroom and into the bathroom. Five minutes later, he emerged, showered and dressed in the clothes he’d worn the day before and which had remained on the bathroom floor all night.

Downstairs, he brewed a cup of coffee, then sent Mike a text asking for an update on Gif. Mike called him back. Keeping his voice low, Drex answered on the first ring. “How’s he doing?”

“I got to see him around four-thirty. He had woken up, but was still under the influence. Wanted to know what had happened to him.”

“He didn’t remember?”

“Remembered a throng of people. He was making his way through as best he could toward the cordoned-off crime scene. Next thing he knew, he was on the ground, in pain like none other, paralyzed. Couldn’t even breathe.”

“He never saw his attacker?”

“He wasn’t looking for one.”

“Right,” Drex said. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Couple of hours. You?”