“Kent, what are you—”

His mouth was on hers. His c*ck pressed against her, hard and ready, and she held tight to him as the rage and fear and adrenaline bubbled in her blood.

His head lifted, and he gritted out, “When I saw the fire, your house…”

She’d been scared, too, when she saw the flames coming for her. Get out. The words had screamed in her mind, and she’d run from the fire. Run, when she usually fought it.

“I need you,” Kenton growled. “I need you.”

Lora needed him.

Kenton pulled off his holster and set the weapon on the nightstand.

Lora’s hands trembled with the need to touch him. “Kent…”

He kissed her, an open-mouthed, tasting kiss that had her leaning into him. Her hands slipped between their bodies and she found the top of his pants.

He caught her hand, stilling her fingers. His head lifted and he stared down at her with glittering eyes. “Not fast.” He kissed her again and let her feel the sensual lick of his tongue.

He pushed her back onto the bed, and the mattress dipped beneath her. His hands stroked her body, not wild with the fierce passion they’d shown before, but soft and gentle as he stripped her.

His arousal pressed against her, long and thick, and she spread her legs, trying to feel more of that thick bulge against her.

“Easy, Lora…” His whisper.

She didn’t want easy. She reached between them again and pulled down his zipper with a hiss. His erection sprang into her hands. She stroked him, loving the feel of that hot skin.

He caught her hands and pushed them back against the mattress. “Easy.” An order this time.

She stared up at him, her heart racing in her chest. His scent surrounded her, his body pressed against hers, and she wanted him inside so badly that she ached.

Fire. Hell.

Life.

Because when she’d seen those flames and heard the crackle of the fire—in those moments before she’d run for freedom—Lora hadn’t thought about Carter or about what could have been with him.

She’d thought about Kenton.

Heard him screaming her name.

She’d run through the flames. To him.

Kenton’s mouth skimmed her jaw, then he kissed his way down her neck. A shiver had her breath catching when he licked her throat.

“I’m going to taste every inch of you.”

Her legs shifted restlessly against his.

He freed her hands and rose onto his elbows. “Every inch, sweetheart, and I’m going to take my time.”

Oh, yes.

His head lowered and his mouth took her nipple. When he sucked her, she arched off the bed. His hand eased down her body, and he pushed his fingers between her legs. His caress was slow and steady, and when he slipped one finger into her and sucked her breast, she whispered his name. She wanted her release but—

She loved his mouth.

And Kenton was working that mouth so well. He licked his way to her other breast and let her feel the soft bite of his teeth as he scored her flesh. He took her nipple into his mouth, and his tongue tasted her as he worked a second finger into her sex.

Gentle. Soft. She’d only known lust and need with him before, but this was different.

He wasn’t just taking her body. With every kiss, every touch, he seemed to be taking her. Claiming her, body and soul.

The soft stubble on his cheeks scraped her stomach as he pressed kisses down her body. She held herself still, almost afraid to move, because she didn’t want this moment to end.

His dark head lowered, and his hands closed around her thighs. “Kent,” she breathed his name.

He glanced up at her, his eyes glinting.

Then he put his mouth on her. His tongue touched her, licking her sensitive skin, sliding right over her clit. The orgasm took her by surprise, a sweet release that poured over her even as he continued to taste her, using deeper strokes of his tongue now.

Her h*ps pressed against his mouth, and her hands fisted in the sheets. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she just felt.

Him. The rasp on his cheeks, the soft touch of his mouth.

As promised, he took his time, tasting her flesh until she was moaning and twisting on the bed. She opened her eyes and saw him rising, a strong shadow that covered her.

He slipped on a condom, and the head of his c*ck pushed against her body. Her arms lifted and curled around him as he slid inside in an easy, slow glide.

Lora lost her breath. No, he stole it with his kiss, but gave her his in return.

The bed squeaked beneath them. His thrusts were steady, driving, and she held him as tight as she could. When her second cl**ax hit, she cried out his name as her muscles contracted around him on a hard wave of release.

Kenton kept thrusting, and he kept his eyes on her. His c*ck swelled even more inside her, the friction sparking a rush of pleasure.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, and she held him tight. His neck was close, so she leaned up and kissed him, using the edge of her teeth in a light bite of her own.

He shuddered against her, and his hands curled around her hips. His head lifted, and he thrust again, again.

And, with his eyes on hers, he came. Pleasure wiped across his face, the same hot pleasure that swept through her.

He kissed her.

Her hands curled around him. Held tight.

Held… him.

“You know you scared the hell out of me.” Kenton spoke moments later in the darkness. His arms were around her. Her body against his. He’d ditched all of his clothes and lay na**d with her. His heart beat beneath her palm, steady and strong. The wild rush was over. For now.

“When I realized you were in the house…”

She lifted her gaze to his. The lamp was on beside them, spilling light onto the bed. “I’m okay.” But her lips curled as she stared at him. He looked so serious, with that faint line between his brows and the stubble lining his jaw. “But if you need to f**k me one more time, just to be sure…” She leaned up and licked his lips. “Go right ahead.”

The laugh came, just as she’d wanted. A hard and deep rumble.

At the sound, something inside her eased. Finally.

“He didn’t get me,” she told him. “But the bastard really did manage to piss me off.” She loved that house. Loved it. She’d painted every inch of it herself, over Jake’s protests. The fact that the guy owned a painting company didn’t mean he had to paint her house.

And she’d redone the kitchen on her own. She’d worked in the bathroom with Ryan and even put in new floors with Jake and Ben. Ryan had supervised everything, of course, since construction was his business.

They’d all worked hard. Together, they’d turned the old house into her beautiful new home.

Now…

She blinked back the tears that wanted to fill her eyes.

No, the arsonist hadn’t hurt her, not physically. But maybe that had been his plan. If he’d wanted the whole house to go up—fast—she knew he could have done it. But there’d been time for her to get out. Time to run. And the cops had been there.

She bet Phoenix had seen them. He seemed to see everything. “I think he did it just to show he could.” Her words came, slowly, as she thought about the killer in the dark. Because if he’d really wanted her to burn…

The fire would have been inside. He’d run a line of gasoline all the way around her house. Outside.

“What? What do you mean?”

“The fire… I think it was a taunt. An I-can-get-to-you slap right in my face.” Because he’d wanted her to know that if he wanted her to burn, she’d burn.

No, bastard, I won’t.

“He knew exactly how to set the burn line so that the fire would stay on the edges of the house, and I’d be able to get out.” She shook her head. “If he wanted me dead, the fire would have ripped inside.” But he hadn’t wanted her dead. “He’s jerking us around.”

“Maybe not us.” His words came slowly, still rough, deep. “Maybe just you.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s been you all along.”

Lora shook her head. “Uh, no, I don’t think—”

But he was shooting up in bed. “Those first four fires, they were when you were on duty. He planned those. Every detail. Every moment.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t on duty when that last poor guy was torched—”

“Larry Powell was killed because he was a witness.”

Uh, who? Her brows climbed. “Run that by me again.”

“The dental records came back. The man handcuffed to the radiator? That was Larry Powell—”

“The survivor from the fire on LeRoy.” Her shoulders slumped. He’d escaped one hell, only to have the flames seal him in another. “Why?”

“Because I think Phoenix thought Powell was a loose end—and our guy doesn’t like loose ends.”

Lora shook her head, aware of a growing chill in the room. No, not in the room. The chill was in her bones.

“He wasn’t a planned vic, not like the others.” Kenton’s words came faster. “Phoenix didn’t have time to waste on him. He couldn’t pick the right moment. He had to act.”

The right moment?

“Changed his pattern,” he muttered, and Lora didn’t think the guy was really talking to her then. More to himself.

“You shift up rotations, right?” Kenton fired at her.

Lora nodded. “Every few days.”

“You even said it, when Monica and I—” He broke off, but she helpfully supplied…

“When you two had me stuck in that interrogation?”

“You had alibis, remember? That’s what you told me, because you were working every shift.” Kenton jumped out of bed.

Her brows rose as her eyes dropped to his ass. He had a really nice ass.

But then Kenton yanked on his pants.

Ah, well.

Lora didn’t bother getting dressed. She just watched him. He was pacing, a lot. The guy was on to something.

“It was right f**king in front of me, and I didn’t see it.”

“What was in front of you?”

He whirled to face her. “You.”

She was really not liking the sound of that.

“You’re the connection, Lora. Seth was right. You’re the link in all this.”

“There’s no way! I didn’t even know who those other vics were.”

“There’s something about you.” His eyes narrowed in an assessing stare. “Something that’s tying you to this guy. To these fires.” He stepped closer. “There’s no coincidence with perps like this. There never is. The pattern—it was your shift. He set those fires when you were working. There’s gotta be a reason for it.”

Her palms pressed into the bed. She didn’t like this. Didn’t like where this was heading, not at all.

But Kenton had his phone out and was punching in numbers with fast swipes of his fingers. Who was he calling this late?

“Hey—it’s Lake. That search we’ve been running? See if you can link the vics back to Lora Spade.”

Chillbumps rose on her arms.

“Yeah, that’s right. The firefighter.”

No, no, this didn’t make sense.

“I need this ASAP, man. Fuck, I need it yesterday.”

She pulled up the sheet, slowly, to cover her br**sts. Lora thought about the fires. The bodies.

The victims she hadn’t been able to save—the ones that haunted her.

And she thought about the games that killers could play.

Such twisted, sick games.

CHAPTER Thirteen

A pounding woke Lora the next morning. A pounding loud enough to have her groaning and shoving up in bed.

Then she realized, damn fast, that she wasn’t in her bed.

Smoke.

Flames.

Phoenix.

She was still na**d. Lora scrambled, finding her shorts and her top, yanking them on just as Kenton opened the bathroom door.

Oh, he would be fully dressed.

His gaze found her and seemed to heat.

“Um… you expecting company?” Her voice came out husky. Jeez, what time was it? Seven A.M.? Had she managed to get a whole two and a half hours of sleep?

Kenton shook his head before he hurried across the room and checked through the peephole. His shoulders stiffened, but he opened the door.

Lora shoved back her hair and lifted her chin.

“Morning, sunshine.” The rumbling voice of the other agent, Ramirez, reached her easily. He shouldered past Kenton, a brown bag in his hands. When he caught sight of her, standing next to the rumpled bed—didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d done last night—one black brow rose. “Lora.” He rolled the L on her name, let it go long and deep.

The agent’s gaze raked over her.

“Watch it.” Kenton’s snarled order came right at the same time as her—

“Eyes up, buddy. Up.” She needed clothes. Clothing was definitely priority number one.

Ramirez grinned at her, his lips stretching in a slow smile. “You are so wasted on him.” The guy took a step closer. “I brought you a present.”

She wasn’t too sure she wanted anything from him.

“Go on. It won’t bite.” He lifted the bag.

But you might.

Kenton snatched the bag from him and peered inside.

“See, I can be thoughtful.”

“What you can be is a pain in the ass.” Kenton tossed the bag to her. “Some clothes.”

Yes.

That grin still lightened Ramirez’s otherwise scary visage. But really, that guy—he didn’t seem the grinning type. Dark. Dangerous. Deadly. Like a fire ready to rage.