Apparently, he felt the same sensational waves, because he let out a low growl, one coming from deep in his throat as he began a steady pumping motion that brought them both to the edge fast and quick. Sloane knew she was losing control, yet she wanted to feel more. She discovered that if she held her breath, the waves spiraled higher and surrounded her in complete ecstasy. She inhaled once more, catching her breath. A cascade of bright light and amazing, exquisite pleasure took over, until the world seemed to explode. At the same moment, he found his release, his hips grinding in a circular motion, his big body trembling, shaking around hers.
By the time she came back to earth, her breathing wasn’t just shallow, she was gasping for air. She leaned her head back and sighed. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” His voice sounded gruff and not all that steady either.
She grinned. She hadn’t been kidding earlier when she spoke of still waters. He was a man of few words, something she was coming to appreciate about him. She laid her head on his chest, listening to the quiet sound of his heartbeat, and marveled at the calming effect he had on her in the midst of a life crisis.
His big hands smoothed the back of her hair and she reveled in the luxurious feeling of being cared for. “Mmm,” she purred, but she wasn’t oblivious to her promise. “About Samson . . .” she said, ready to talk.
“Shh. It’s late and you’ve had a long day.”
His words surprised her. “But I know you’re wondering.”
“Are you going anywhere?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then go to sleep and we’ll talk in the morning. Unless driving to Yorkshire Falls, nearly being in an explosion, and wrestling with bikers is your idea of a normal, relaxing day.”
Behind his wry tone, she sensed his concern. Beyond that, she sensed his innate belief that she would indeed be beside him in the morning, ready and willing to answer his questions.
“Thank you,” she murmured, appreciating his understanding more than he could possibly know. She’d had too little trust given to her lately, especially by the people closest to her.
“You’re more than welcome. Now sleep,” he said in a rough voice. Pushing her hair aside, he kissed her neck and held her close.
His strength and emotional understanding let her relax, and she yawned, curling against his warm skin, waiting for sleep to come. As he said, tomorrow would be soon enough for answers.
Sloane awoke to find Chase’s arms still tight around her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly and knew she had the man beside her to thank. She turned in his arms to find his blue eyes studying her.
A smile tilted her lips as she traced his profile with one finger.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he said at last, pulling her until her body was aligned with his.
“Used to chattering women, are you?” She bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could withdraw the dumb, blithe joke. Nothing was funny about Chase and other women.
“Actually, I’m not used to women at all. Discretion, remember? No one came here and I never stayed over.”
But he’d let her stay last night. She arched toward him, her br**sts crushing into his chest, his musky warmth cocooning her in delicious heat. “Sounds lonely.”
Though she’d have hated to imagine him in an emotionally intense relationship, she didn’t want him alone either. He deserved so much more out of life, considering how much he’d given in return.
“You get used to it.” He placed a warm, lingering kiss on her lips. “But it’s too damn easy to get used to this too.”
Her heart leaped at his words, even as she cautioned herself against thinking he meant anything by it. Changing the subject was the smartest route. Ironically, the more dangerous subject of her real father seemed the safest topic.
One she was ready to share with him, and Sloane instinctively knew it was because he’d invaded a small part of her heart. “Chase?”
“Hmm?”
“Samson, whoever . . . whatever he is . . . He’s my real father.”
“What?” Obviously shocked by her admission, Chase slid out of her grasp, bolting to a sitting position.
Before she could explain, a loud knocking sounded from the far side of the apartment.
“Chase? Are you up yet? We need you downstairs.”
“Damn. It’s Lucy.” He stood and grabbed for his jeans. “She’s my right hand at the paper,” he said to Sloane. “Hang on, I’ll be right out,” he yelled over his shoulder. He snapped his jeans and explained while he dressed. “Technically, I’m still on vacation, but they know I’m back and apparently they need me.” He glanced Sloane’s way, obviously torn. How could he not be after the bombshell she’d just dropped on him?
“Go. I’ll still be here when you get back,” she promised.
His blue eyes met hers, deep and questioning. “And you’ll finish explaining?”
She nodded and pulled the covers up over her. “I brought the subject up, didn’t I? I’m not about to bail on you now.”
He inclined his head in silent acceptance, then turned and headed out, shutting the bedroom door behind him and leaving her alone. Sloane leaned back against the still-warm sheets. All around her, she could feel Chase’s presence, feel how much he wanted her.
Too bad he only wanted her for as long as she was in Yorkshire Falls. Because deep down, Sloane had a hunch that she’d give him much more, if only he’d ask.
Chase’s Gazette staff was comprised of good people with exceptional abilities, but because he’d been so hands-on over the years, they’d never once gone to press without his okay. Many times the front-page story was as mundane as a town meeting or as huge as a national tragedy. Then there were special occasions when Yorkshire Falls news led the day. The panty thief had been the last prime example, when his brother Roman had been pegged as the town Lothario due to a childhood prank and ridiculous coincidence.
The newest headlines had happened yesterday. The Gazette was a weekly, and this week, Samson’s house explosion would lead the news.
Samson—Sloane’s father. Chase pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to process that bit of truth. And since they’d had no time to talk before being interrupted, he could only draw his own conclusions now.
Sloane was in Yorkshire Falls, looking for Samson Humphrey, a man she’d never met.
His house had blown up, and Chase’s staff wanted to know why the police department—