Page 52 of Evening Shadows

“Back,” Jose directed.

To remove Sam from Jose’s touch—that surely bruised her—Ken didn’t fight the request, even though he longed to give the asshole a taste of his own medicine. Backing to the wall, which took only a few steps, he then collapsed to the ground and bit back his curses and exaggerated groan of pain. Knowing the trouble he’d have rising from his current position, he remained on the floor, challenging his nemesis with a lethal glare.

He’d considered rushing the man and the two of them making a run for it. Using the common-sense God had gifted him with and acknowledging his physical limitations, he’d recognized that leaving in daylight would likely be a death sentence for them. He’d never put Sam in more danger than he already had because he hadn’t been able to get away with that damn limp of his.

Sam must’ve realized the same because they had a great opportunity when Jose opened the door. She could’ve shoved her knife into Jose’s heart and the two escaping, but she passed up the opportunity. Although, he wished she’d stab the motherfucker for what he’d done to him.

She hadn’t even seen the worst of it on his upper torso. The heat still flowed under the skin on each mark with his salty sweat gliding over the marks. Ten in all. He’d not relished it, but they’d have to come up with worse torture than that. Even then, he wouldn’t give them what they wanted. Not Jesse.

As Jose shoved her into the room, Sam winked at him, then turned back to her guard and continued making a ruckus.

Something lifted inside him. Her smile told him they had hope.

20

With an indignant grunt, Jose slammed their cell door, then departed the area without a word. Sam might’ve figured out something that could help them, but he definitely couldn’t tell by her behavior. The woman cursed like a sailor and had even kicked the bars with her boot. He held back the smile at her reaction.

Once quiet, she turned to him and mouthed, “Trust me.”

He nodded and immediately the woman started caterwauling again. He awkwardly, and with some serious discomfort, stood on this own. Sweat dotted his forehead from the effort and he knew in doing it himself took too much out of him. He’d have to suck it up, having her assist him up if he wanted to walk.

Her next words jolted him—in a good way. Her melodrama brought a chuckle from him, but he bit it back and played the game Sam had started.

“Oh, Ken, hold me.” She launched herself into his arms, squeezing him around his waist. At his sharp indrawn breath of pain, she loosened her hold but didn’t pull away. This, he liked. Her body snug against his. No matter the injuries pulsing in his body, the heat between them sprang up to a roaring blaze that would one day soon be extinguished with the two of them naked and well loved. Even then, he imagined things would smolder between them until they made love again.

“I can’t believe how she treated me.”

Automatically, Ken stiffened at her words. What had Beverly done to make Sam go on this much? Sure, he’d figured she’d been playacting for Jose, but he didn’t know if she did now. Sam didn’t appear injured, but he could’ve missed something. Or, it could’ve all been mental.

Then, the best thing happened. In between her pretend whining and sobbing, she lightly kissed his neck. Enough to tell him she still playacted. She must suspect someone down the hall listening. He wanted it over, because even knowing her emotions weren’t real, it sliced into him that she could be that pained by a woman she’d called friend.

Taking advantage of her sham outburst, he reached down, cupped each cheek of her butt, and pulled her close. Before she could extricate herself, he leaned toward her ear and whispered, “How much longer are you going to behave like a crazy woman and not the superior warrior you are?”

When she leaned back, leaving little space between them, and narrowed her eyes, he silently acknowledged that’d been an unfair question if she still played a part. She unwound the weaponless arm and lifted a finger to his lips for silence. He, of course, sucked the slender digit into his mouth. What else was a guy to do in that situation? Her need for him to be quiet had been evident, but she could’ve just as easily put the finger to her lips. He liked her choice better.

Her gaze softened and, to his satisfaction, an eager hunger clouded them. He itched to kiss her, taste her, and show her his love and desire. Without anything tangible to validate it, he knew it’d be the next best thing to heaven to be inside her. That day couldn’t get here fast enough. He’d endure any amount of pain to make her his.

Instead of acting on his desire, Ken kept eye contact with her and focused on listening to their surroundings. Sure enough, the echo of footfalls disappeared down the hallway. Before he had a moment to speak and ask anything, she snatched her finger back, then cupped her hands behind his head, leaned up and covered his mouth with hers. Not just a peck on the lips, a deep, hungry kiss that gave him more than he could imagine.

A low, guttural growl escaped him. That act, and not just the actual meshing of lips, had his body humming with a pent-up desire that he would unleash on her one day.

He brought his right hand up and cupped the left side of her face with his thumb under her chin. With a moan, he pushed his tongue between her soft lips and searched hers out. The warmth and sweet taste of her nearly undid him. Their lips tangled and he took mere seconds between each stroke to fully taste her.Pain be damned.

He had no idea if she realized how she affected him. If she had any sense—and he knew she did—she’d feel his physical need for her growing. She wasn’t a blushing virgin, so, unless she chose to remain oblivious, she’d know. Well, hell, he’d already told her so it shouldn’t matter.

With his left hand still cupping a perfectly rounded butt cheek, he tugged her snuggly back into him, and her pleasure-filled moan sent his pulse skyrocketing.

She wasn’t a complacent participant in the kiss. No, she brought heat and lifted onto the balls of her feet to meld them closer. When her tongue dominated his, the heat shooting to his groin, raced.

Even though he tried to remain aware of his surroundings, this woman took everything from him without asking. Their bodies snug against the other and their lips fused together drove his anticipation, dreaming of the time they would be able to continue without an audience.

Audience.He jerked his senses back to their surroundings. His chest heaving and his heart racing faster than a race car in the Daytona 500, he pulled away from their kiss and dropped his forehead to hers. Seeing her delicious breasts heave, he pressed a light kiss to her temple, took a deep breath, looked up, and prayed for the strength needed to see them escape alive.

Falling into a loose embrace, they didn’t speak right away. After longer than he’d have wanted to wait, he asked, “Are you okay?” He’d wanted to run his hand through the strands of her hair, but she’d obviously been provided a brush to restrain her hair in a ponytail holder again, and based on the minty taste of her mouth a toothbrush to freshen up. Why then did Beverly send her back?

“I’m fine.” Her eyes misted and that had him stiffening. Was that a woman’s “I’m fine” that men had to be concerned about? “I’m so sorry.”

Her statements didn’t get better as she said them. In fact, concern laced its way through his thoughts. Cautiously, he asked, “Sorry for what?”

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