Page 29 of Condemned By Secrets

“Good.” And he’d visit Cartwright tonight.

“Luther?”

He was still stroking her hair. “Yeah?”

“You can let me go now.” She tilted her head up at him, looking into those golden-brown eyes, his hand stilled. He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted . . . Luther’s gaze fell to her lips, those beautiful strawberry lips that tasted so sweet.

When her breath hitched, Luther’s gaze flew back to hers. He saw the same need that hounded him shining in her eyes. Leaning down, he whispered against her lips, “Can I kiss you, Anna?”

Those plump red lips parted ever so slightly, and she nodded before closing her eyes. Not wanting to scare her off again, Luther kept his hunger in check, kissing her as gently as his need would allow.

She let out a soft moan when his lips brushed hers and opened for him. He accepted the invitation and swept his tongue in her mouth. Her sweetness flooded his senses as their tongues danced, and the beast in him starving for more of her taunted him to take it.

With one hand he molded her against him while the other cradled her head, his fingers tangling themselves in her soft brown locks as he continued to drink in the candied confection flavor of her.

When he felt his control slipping, Luther freed her lips and buried his head in the curve of her neck. He wanted this woman something fierce, and her bed was right there.

He groaned as he fought against the desire to take her—now. She wasn’t ready, and if it had been merely sex he wanted, maybe he wouldn’t have cared, but it wasn’t.

With Anna, he wanted more than one night, and, wanting that, he had to wait. But waiting wasn’t easy. With one last deep breath, Luther took in her scent, the perfume that haunted his dreams, and stepped back releasing her before he made the wrong move.

“I should go.”

At his words, her gaze clouded and she bit her lip. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. His own thoughts warred within him as his focus again fell to her mouth.

When she turned away, he blinked and shook the lust from his head. She opened the door to her room and he followed her. With one last soul-searing look, he drank her in. “Goodnight, Anna.”

As he walked away, Luther couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made the right choice.

CHAPTER 11

Anna closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the door to her room. She still felt Luther’s lips on hers. Remembering how gentle he’d been, she touched a finger to them in a daze. How different this kiss had been than their first. Before, she’d been swept away in the storm of his passion while this time . . . This time she’d been floating on a soft, fluffy cloud, the sun’s rays warming her slowly from the inside out.

Sighing, she pushed herself off the door. Her lids felt heavy, and her body was spent from all the crying. Too tired to think of dinner she flopped on the bed. As she sank into the downy mattress, her mind went back to Luther.

Anna wondered why he hadn’t tried to take more from her than just a kiss. When he’d pulled away and told her he should go, she’d had a moment of panic, afraid she’d done something wrong. For that fleeting moment, she’d wanted him to stay. The desire surprised her. She hadn’t wanted anyone since Dan, and with Luther . . . the pull was so much stronger. The way he’d looked at her as he left . . . Her blood heated as she replayed that look. Anna groaned and rolled over. The more Luther kissed her the more she craved his mouth on hers.

Her stomach cramped against the opposing signals her brain was broadcasting. Did she like Luther or not? She didn’t want to, but . . . Had she misjudged him? He had stayed for her, even after she’d been so horrible to him, and then he’d offered her comfort. Not only that, but he’d offered his help. If he warned Richard off and she filed the complaint, perhaps the slimeball would leave her alone.

She clung to that hope, knowing it would get her through the next few days. On a yawn, Anna closed her eyes. Exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster she’d been riding and the lack of sleep from the night before, she drifted off amidst revolving thoughts of Luther.

???

Luther pulled up in front of Cartwright’s house and glared at the quaint Craftsman bungalow. The man lived in a historic neighborhood where many of the houses dated to the 1920s. For some reason, the beauty of the home made Luther even angrier. A man like Cartwright didn’t deserve a place like this. The light brown color of the brick contrasted prettily with the bright red shingles hanging under the pitch of the gabled roof. A large picture window trimmed in white with exposed brackets held up a matching red flower box stretching the length of it. The box held a riot of colors: yellow, purple, white and pink blooms that shone with a soft light in the glow from the setting sun. Scowling, Luther checked the address again, but it confirmed he was in the right place.

Taking a calming breath, he reminded himself what the goal was here. He needed to get Cartwright to back off by scaring him, not pissing him off enough that he retaliated against Anna. Which meant he had to handle this as a cop—keep his cool.

Luther climbed out of the police cruiser and shook his shoulders. It didn’t ease the tension in his muscles, and he gritted his teeth. The image of Cartwright asking Anna for sexual favors was eating away at his resolve.

As he climbed the steps to the red front door, Luther counted the space between his breaths until he slowed them down. It was a trick he’d learned at the academy that helped him return to a calmer state.

After a couple slow, deep breaths, he pounded on the door. It didn’t take long before Cartwright answered it. Luther’s hands clenched into fists at the sight of him. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt but still wore his tie and dress pants. How relaxed the man looked contrasted starkly with the adrenaline rushing through Luther’s body.

Cartwright tipped his head to the side, his dark eyes carefully blank. “Evening, Officer. Is there a problem?”

Luther bared his teeth in a smile that couldn’t hide his disgust. “Why do you assume there’s a problem?”

Keep your head, Luther.

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