Page 15 of Prey for You

“What are you doing now?”

“You have scrapes on your back.”

“Barely!”

“I need to check those too—”

But then my smartass wife made an exasperated sound, dropped her lower spine so her back hollowed, and leaned back, bumping her ass into me so that my cockimmediatelytwitched.

“Bridget—”

She leaned forward, clamping her hands on the edge of the counter and stretching like a cat while leaning back to bump me again. “But isn’t this all part of the game?” she asked sweetly.

Then she lifted her head and met my eyes in the mirror through strands of her hair. Her cheeks were pinked and her eyes sparkling. She was right there, andready.I could tell by how her shoulders moved her breathing had gone shallow. I knew if I touched her, she’d already be slick, and that was incredible. And amazing.

And fucking terrifying.

She just wants Cain.

The thought came out of nowhere, but the moment it was there, I couldn’t put it aside. I froze, staring at her in that shining surface until her smile faltered and she straightened and turned to face me.

“Sam, I was playing. What’s wrong?”

I blinked and realized how I must look, standing there with gauze and a bottle of Betadine, staring at her.

“Nothing,” I croaked.

She tipped her head, and her lips pulled tight. “I don’t believe you,” she said in a small voice.

I cleared my throat and shook my head. Made myself put the gear back in its place in the kit while I spoke. “No, it’s nothing. I just… I realized how little time we have,” I said gruffly. I picked up the used gauze and tossed it into the wastebasket. Then went back for the towel. “I want to make memories, like I said. But I also don’t want to draw attention to us, you know? I want to spend this time with you, not dodging law enforcement.”

She sighed. “Me too. So… maybe we don’t go out. Maybe… maybe this isnaked vacation,” she said with a wicked grin. “I mean, room service, amiright? Then there’s no cameras so even if someone is looking—”

“We don’t have to go that far. We just need to be careful not to draw attention to ourselves—things likebleeding woundswill get people taking a second look.” I raised one brow and met her eyes so she’d know I wasn’t mad—but I was serious.

Bridget rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said, sighing, but turning around and bending over again so I could check the scrapes.

She was right, they weren’t bad. Mostly reddened skin with a few, very fine scratches. I laid a hand on them and her eyes cut up to meet mine in the mirror again.

I smiled. She’d leaned her elbows on the counter so her breasts were pushed together. Her hair was messy and tangled like she’d just gotten out of bed. She looked rumpled and beautiful and hot as hellfire.

I couldn’t resist letting a hand fall to slap on her ass, then drawing it up her side, up her back, leaning over her on the counter to slide my palm to her throat and lift her chin, forcing her to hold eye contact.

Her lower lip went slack and her eyes grew bright.

“We aren’t sitting in this room for the next four days,” I muttered. “We’re just being picky about when and how we go out. We’re making memories. Not mugshots.”

She nodded as best she could with my hand on her throat. “So… no more fucking in earshot of the kiddos?”

I snorted, but nodded. “And when I say I need to clean you up, it means let me clean you up.”

“Sure, whatever..”

“And we have to answer our phones.”

She went still, watching me warily in the mirror. “What? Why?!”

“Because we can’t give them any reason to come looking for us, Bridge. No one. We have to answer texts and field calls and… whatever we’d normally do if we were home.”

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