Page 34 of Bennett (HC Heroes #15)

Her eyes were dark, shimmering with heat. “I need you, Bennett,” she panted, her breath coming fast. “Hurry.”

Something in him snapped, and need, raw and soul-deep, consumed him.

Her words weren’t just desire, they were trust. A gift.

And he was damn lucky to have earned it.

The beautiful woman stole the last of his restraint. He dipped down to press his mouth to hers, then rasped against her lips, “I’ve got you.”

She kissed him back, hungry, eager, and wild. The feel of her soft curves, trembling beneath him nearly sent him over the edge. He was barely holding on when she shifted and rocked her hips in that silent invitation again.

That was all he needed.

Bennett broke the kiss and positioned himself better between Laurel’s thighs before he slid into her in one long, slow thrust that made her cry out and cling to him like gravity had failed.

She was wet and hot and so damn perfect—tight enough to drag another low curse from his throat as her body welcomed him into her slick heat.

“Always so damn good,” he growled into the curve of her neck, panting as he fought the urge to move too fast. “You feel like heaven.”

Laurel arched into him, her fingers digging into his back, nails scoring lightly down muscle as she gasped out his name. Her heels dug into the backs of his thighs, silently urging him deeper, harder.

More than happy to comply, he gave her everything—his rhythm building slowly and deliberately, hips rolling in a way that made her moan and gasp and he couldn’t get enough.

The couch creaked beneath them as their rhythm grew more urgent, the heat between them blistering. She murmured his name again, low and breathless, and the sound nearly undid him.

And every time she clenched around him, every sexy sound she made pushed him closer to the edge.

Bennett clenched his jaw, fighting to hang on to the last shreds of control, but Laurel made it impossible. The way she moved with him, the way her breath caught with every deep thrust, the way her body tightened around him—it was too much.

She gasped, her head tipping back as he shifted just enough to change the angle. Her entire body arched in response, trembling beneath his as a broken cry escaped her lips.

“Yes, right there,” she panted, her voice rough, needy, exquisite.

He locked his arm beneath her back, holding her close, thrusting harder now, chasing that sound, that look in her eyes when she was lost in pleasure.

“Come for me, Laurel,” he rasped, with his mouth against her ear. “I need to feel you lose it for me.”

That did it.

She shattered beneath him with a sexy-as-hell moan, her body clenching tightly around his, wave after wave of pleasure wracking her frame as she gasped his name. The sight of her coming undone—flushed, panting, so damn beautiful—dragged him under too.

He groaned deep in his chest, burying himself in her one last time as white-hot pleasure lit up his spine and turned his muscles molten. His climax slammed into him, raw and consuming, drawn out by the woman beneath him, holding on like she never wanted to let go.”

Breathing hard, Bennett dropped his forehead to hers, his body still enjoying her aftershocks. He didn’t speak, couldn’t. There were no words big enough for what she’d just made him feel.

Laurel brushed a hand through his hair, her touch gentle now, grounding. “That,” she whispered, still breathless, “was definitely better than a sandwich.”

He let out a hoarse laugh, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “I agree. Not even close.”

They lay tangled on the couch, sweat-slicked and sated, hearts still pounding in sync as quiet wrapped back around them.

But it wasn’t the same kind of quiet anymore.

This one was warm, intimate.

Real.

The world stilled in the aftermath, breath mingling, bodies entwined, the distant hum of the town settling into twilight. Bennett stayed wrapped around her for a long moment, his forehead resting against hers, heart pounding steady now, but not calm. Never calm. Not when it came to her.

Laurel let out a soft, satisfied sound and traced lazy circles on his back. “We should probably eat those sandwiches eventually,” she murmured with a grin.

“Eventually,” he said, brushing a kiss over her temple. But he didn’t move.

He didn’t want to. Not yet.

They lay like that for another minute before she whispered, “You’re quiet.”

“Just thinking.” He lifted his head slightly to look at her. “About you. About this.” He paused. “And about what could’ve happened when that window was smashed.”

Her brow furrowed. “Bennett—”

Before she could say more, a soft chime buzzed from his phone on the floor. Not a text. An alert.

The unmistakable ping of the security app.

Shit.

He reached for it, his heart rate kicking up again. Laurel sat up next to him, silent but steady as he unlocked the screen and swiped into the log.

Motion Alert. Sensor 6. East Exterior. Temporary Interruption.

Frowning, Bennett tapped into the live feed. The camera image was steady now, nothing but the side alley and the edge of the fencing visible. He scrolled back a few minutes to the recorded feed.

There it was. A flicker.

Not long. A few seconds at most. A faint shimmer in the corner of the frame.

But what made his gut twist?

The time stamp.

It had gone off while he’d been on this couch with Laurel wrapped around him, his mouth on hers, his entire focus sunk deep in her and nowhere else.

He hadn’t even heard it.

“Something wrong?” Laurel asked softly.

He didn’t answer right away, just stared at the screen and scrolled again, trying to catch a shadow, a shape…any damn thing.

“Not sure,” he said, already reaching for his jeans. “I’m going to check it out.”

Laurel didn’t argue. Didn’t even flinch. She just stood and started pulling on clothes, calm as ever.

But even through her calm, he could feel it now.

That quiet they’d enjoyed? That silence?

It had never been peace.

It had been the inhale before something hit.

Aggravation stiffened his spine as he strode to the bathroom for a quick clean up and to get dressed. He was aggravated with himself for slacking on the most important job of his life.

And if whoever was behind the lull thought he wouldn’t notice?

They’d underestimated the hell out of the wrong man.

Bennett emerged from the bathroom dressed and on alert, boots laced, resolve set. Laurel met him at the apartment door, already dressed herself, eyes steady despite the flicker of worry in them.

“I’ll be back in a few,” he said. “Just a sweep to make sure nothing’s been tampered with.”

She nodded but didn’t step back. “Be careful.”

He touched her waist briefly, then the back of her neck. “Always.” Then he added, “Lock the door behind me.”

“I will.”

The lock clicked softly after he pulled the door shut behind him, the metal echoing a little too loudly in the hallway’s quiet.

The corridor was dim, the renovation crew long gone for the night. Every footstep echoed faintly off exposed drywall and scuffed concrete as he descended the stairs with deliberate silence, all senses wired for something—anything—out of place.

Outside, the humid evening air hit him like a damp towel.

The faint scent of rain still clung to the asphalt, but the clouds had passed earlier without much more than a sprinkle.

He paused at the back entrance, scanning the alley as his hand rested lightly on the sidearm holstered beneath his shirt.

Nothing moved. No breeze, no rustle.

He opened the camera app again, replaying the flicker Carter’s software had flagged. The motion detector had tripped for half a second. Just long enough to register. Just long enough to be a warning.

His jaw tightened.

He swept the perimeter. First the alley, then the side lot, then around to the front. Slowly, methodically. His boots crunched over loose gravel as he rounded the side of the building, heart beating with the steady rhythm of readiness.

Nothing.

No busted sensors. No disturbed wiring. No strange footprints in the dirt. The air was heavy but still.

Too still.

He made it back to the alley just as a night-shift delivery truck rolled past two streets over, the faint rumble a reminder that the world was still turning. Still normal.

But he didn’t feel normal.

He felt like something had brushed just close enough to poke the edges of his instincts, then slipped away.

Which meant it could happen again.

Bennett exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest refusing to let go. He headed back to the apartment, his eyes sweeping once more over the surrounding rooftops, shadows, the fence line—anything that didn’t belong.

The only thing out of place was him. For letting himself get distracted by a woman he was already too far gone for.

After a quick knock on her door, and an “It’s me”, he pressed his palm against the apartment door after and waited just long enough for the lock to click open from the other side.

Laurel’s face appeared, her eyes wide with something that might’ve been concern or just a reflection of his own mood.

“You okay?” she asked, stepping back to let him in.

“Clear perimeter,” he said as he entered, scanning the space on reflex. “No signs of tampering. No footprints. No damage.”

She didn’t ask the next question, but he could feel it hovering in the air between them.

“I didn’t hear the first alert,” he admitted, jaw flexing. “Too distracted.”

Her expression softened, but she didn’t say, Yeah, because we were all over each other on the couch, even though that truth hung between them like an echo .

“You’re allowed to be human, Bennett.”

“Not when it comes to you.”

She blinked, no doubt caught off guard by the fierceness in his voice.

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “My job is to keep you safe. That alert could’ve been something real. And I was too busy…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t need to. The images were still fresh in his mind.

“You were here. With me,” Laurel said, crossing to him. “You didn’t abandon your post. You didn’t ignore a call. You didn’t even take a full breath before you were up and checking.”

He wanted to believe her. God, he did. But guilt was a tricky son-of-a-bitch, especially when paired with everything he’d lost before now.

She stepped closer and slid her hands up his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his T-shirt.

“You still feel responsible, even when you’ve done nothing wrong. That’s not about me, is it?”

He stared down at her, silent.

It wasn’t about her. Not entirely.

It was about Theo. About his father. About years of carrying the weight of someone else’s choices—and the fallout that followed.

But before he could dig too deep into that hole, Laurel leaned in, pressing her forehead against his chest.

“Maybe it was a glitch,” she murmured. “Maybe it wasn’t. But you handled it. That’s what matters.”

Bennett wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, and held her there.

Silent. Solid.

You are what damn sure matters , he thought, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.