Commitment? Well, hell, that startling question almost blew it for Reese—until Alice took over, riding him hard and fast as she sought an orgasm. She lifted so that he almost left her, then dropped down to grind on him with breathy moans.

Jesus, talk about torture.

“Reese,” she cried. “Tell me.”

He caught her hips, holding her closer, trying to slow her down. “Let’s talk about it after.”

Closing her eyes on a shuddering groan, Alice held still. “Let’s talk about it now.”

With him buried deep inside her, her breath coming in pants, she waited for his reply.

Why not tell her? Caressing her hips, Reese said, “I’m insanely attracted to you.”

“To this?” She clarified by lifting up and sliding down again, slowly this time, so slowly that they both had to struggle.

“Yes, that.” Reese strained under her. “But also you, Alice. Talking to you. Holding you while you sleep.” He held her hips and kept her flush against his body, knowing he filled her, loving the way her breath caught, how her muscles contracted. “I even like arguing with you. And, honey, I love the way you do payback.”

But for right now, he couldn’t take a second more. He brought her down to his chest, rolled to put her under him and took over. “Okay?”

For an answer, Alice opened her mouth on his chest, and he felt her sharp little teeth, not hard enough to break his skin, but definitely enough to send a rush of pleasure through him.

Luckily, he brought her with him.

Four strokes, five—and they were both coming hard. Alice held him tight until the last waves of her climax receded. Lying fully atop her, their heartbeats in sync, Reese felt her ease—her body, her thoughts. It took him another minute to recover enough, and then he pushed up to his elbows.

She wasn’t asleep. Her eyes were drowsy.

Sated.

She touched the bruise under his eye with gentle fingertips. And then the mark she’d left with her teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” He smoothed back her hair. “I like it when you lose control.” He kissed her mouth and wanted to go on kissing her.

Her small laugh stalled him. “You’re insatiable,” she teased.

He put his forehead to hers. Only with  you. But again, he held back. They still had so much up in the air, with killers on the loose and her safety in danger—far too much for deep declarations.

Cash whined at the door, giving Reese the perfect distraction. “He has impeccable timing.”

“He’s wonderful,” Alice whispered. “Like you.”

“Speaking of wonderful...” After levering off her, Reese sat on the side of the bed and rested a hand on her thigh. “That was...straight out of a fantasy.” He brushed his thumb over her silky skin. “Thank you.”

Her smile looked a little sad, but she stretched and then sat up. “It’s still early. Want to go watch a movie with Cash?”

He’d had a shit day that had put him in a shittier mood—until he’d gotten home to Alice. And now, after being with her, he felt...content.

Very soon, he needed to tell her how he felt, maybe get her input on a house for Cash.

He also needed to expose drug dealers who were heinous enough to tattoo women the same way ranchers branded their cattle. He had to protect Alice from men corrupt enough to kill a woman rather than let her escape.

But for right now, tonight, Alice and Cash would fill a void he hadn’t known existed until only recently.

“That sounds perfect.” He smiled at her. “As long as I get to pick the movie.”

* * *

FOR OVER A week he’d waited, spending many sleepless nights drenched in the sweat of his own worry. Hour upon hour, he’d sat in his car, afraid to leave, eating cold fast food and pissing in a cup so that he wouldn’t miss it, if or when Cheryl finally left the safety of her parents’ small home.

Luckily they lived in a congested area with a lot of side streets. Each day he parked in a different spot, sunup to sundown, cursing her and that goddamned busybody who’d interfered.

For a while there, he’d thought maybe Cheryl hadn’t gone home after all. Or that she was so spineless, she’d never leave the house again.

Unacceptable. He had to get her.

Woody Simpson was not a man you wanted to disappoint. His wrath was so volatile, he could kill as easy as laugh.

But now, finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Hickson saw Cheryl as she slipped out the front door.

“Cheryl, you stupid bitch,” he muttered to himself. It was because of her that the other one had been able to get the drop on him; because of Cheryl that he’d been made to look like an incompetent fool.

Using Cheryl, he’d find the nosy broad who’d dared to turn the Taser on him, and then he’d deliver her to Woody. That’d ensure she got what she deserved.

But Hickson wanted to dole out the punishment to Cheryl. And he would. Soon, very soon.

He started his car, staring as Cheryl walked out toward the street. She looked jumpy, watchful.

Probably still scared after running from Woody. Hickson snorted. Women were so f**king easy to intimidate, even easier to control.

Looking up and down the street, car keys in hand, Cheryl headed for a little yellow Civic. Hickson didn’t see anyone else around, so he put his windows down, pulled away from the curb and rolled right up to her.

The second he approached, she went wild-eyed and started to run.