Page 95 of When the Smoke Clears

She runs a fingertip along my thigh. “I’m on the pill.”

My heart hammers so loud I can feel it in my ears. The memory of our first time as teenagers—tentative, veiled by latex—flashes through me. Bare skin against bare skin is almost more than I can bear.

“Jesus, Isla,” I groan, lifting my hips. “Get over here and ride my cock.”

Her eyes light up. She steps forward, hair brushing my chest as she straddles me, and the world narrows to the electric press of her warmth against my hardness.

My finger traces her, slick and warm. She hovers just above, her thighs trembling slightly on either side of mine.

Our eyes lock as I position myself beneath her, the leather couch creaking with our shifting weight. For a heartbeat, we connect—just barely—and I freeze, lungs emptying in a rush.

My head drops back, throat exposed, as Isla’s breath catches. She lowers herself with agonizing control, the sensation drawing a low sound from deep in my chest until I’m buried to the hilt.

Her body trembles as I fill her, the sofa creaking beneath us. I grip her hips and start a slow, hard rhythm. Each thrust sends a soft slap into the hush of the room, fueling the fire in my veins. She rolls her hips to meet mine, a soft moan catching in her throat.

“You—” My voice breaks. “So good.”

Her thighs tighten around my hips, pulling me deeper.

My hand slips between us, fingers brushing her swollen clit as I hammer into her. She arches back, hair splaying down her back, eyes clamped shut against the mounting heat. I angle my hips up to hit that spot I know will shatter her.

Her walls flutter around me, her breath coming in broken gasps, and then she unravels—her cry a ragged symphony as she spasms around me.

I fuck her through her orgasm, driving myself to the edge. My own release bursts free inside of her as I groan her name, filling her to the brim.

We slump together in the wet aftermath, heaving breaths mingling. My fingers tangle in her hair; her hands brush my cheek.

No words pass between us—only the steady pounding of two hearts finally at rest, at least for a brief moment.

But even with her in my arms, something sharp coils low in my gut—because peace this good is always the first thing to get taken.

CHAPTER 23

LUKE

“There’s been no sign of the van?” I ask.

Tim leans against my office door, shoulders slumped, head lowered, gaze fixated on the dingy gray tile floor.

“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “We scanned every security camera, every corner of town, hoping to spot any van that might fit the description of the one you described. But we couldn’t find a single match.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “All we know is that it was stolen from an industrial parking area in Las Vegas six months ago.”

That checks out with what Gabe has discovered as well. He’s cross-referenced a list of white panel vans with the database of registered gun owners within a two-hundred-and-fifty-mile radius. Yet, none of the matches seemed promising.

It’s hardly a surprise, given that individuals capable of orchestrating such a calculated ambush wouldn’t risk using the same van for everyday errands or the firearm they obtained through legal means.

This leads us to a critical question: Was my shooting bad luck, or is the shooter a professional who knew exactly what he was doing? Gabe believes it’s the latter, and I’m inclined to agree with him.

My frustration simmers near the surface, but I manage to tamp it down. “I appreciate how hard you’re working on this, Tim.”

He sighs, a deep crease forming on his forehead. “I wish I had better news.”

“Just keep working the case.” I glance out the window at the sleepy main street of Wildhaven. The fog is lying low this morning, adding an eerie silence. I barely recognize it. “How’s everything else going?”

“It’s been quiet since your accident,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “We haven’t received the results from the lab about the rock you collected near the scene of Isla’s near hit and run. We’re also waiting on the blood work from her mom.”

I already know what the test will reveal. I nod, the faint hum of the office’s fluorescent lights filling the silence.