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Authors: Andrea Kane
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reason.
She buried her face in her pillow, determined to eclipse the day for just a few short hours.
“Morning, lazy.” Hutch clearly had different ideas. His deep voice came from just above her head. And it sounded very much awake.
“Lazy?” If Casey weren’t so wiped out, she’d laugh. “You kept me up until almost four a.m. I can tell it’s barely dawn. Besides, don’t sound so smug. I topped you in stamina last night.”
A chuckle. “That’s a pipe dream, sweetheart. It’ll never happen. And you’re certainly not helping your case now. Where’s that stamina you’re boasting about?”
“Recouping.”
“You’ve had two hours to recoup. Time to resume.”
Casey groaned. Hutch was a twenty-four seven kickass guy—mentally, physically, psychologically. He’d shone in his years as a DC cop, blown through his FBI new agent training at the top of his class, excelled throughout his career at the Bureau, and was now the unspoken leader of his team at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico.
It was disgusting how productive one human being could be. People called her a dynamo who could survive on little sleep. Well then, Supervisory Special Agent Kyle “Hutch” Hutchinson was one step away from superhuman.
He was already kissing the side of her neck. “Wake up, beautiful.”
“I can’t.” But Casey could already feel her body responding. When it came to Hutch, it always did.
“Try.”
She did, and with great success. It wasn’t a surprise; she was as starved for him as he was for her.
The problem was, with Hutch stationed in Quantico, Virginia, and Forensic Instincts deeply entrenched in Manhattan—not to mention both hers and Hutch’s insane schedules—they only got to see each other once a month, if they were lucky. And that was just too damned long to be apart.
The tension over this tough obstacle in their relationship was intensifying. They were both feeling the strain.
Neither of them was a child. They’d been together a long time, close to two years. Casey was thirty-two, and Hutch was coming up on thirty-five. This wasn’t the story of two teenagers going to two separate colleges. They were two adults, very much in love, very committed to each other, and struggling with a virtually insurmountable situation.
It wasn’t as if they didn’t discuss it. They did—a lot.
This visit’s conversations were even more difficult, and more raw, than most.
Maybe it was Marc’s upcoming wedding that was making them feel more sentimental. Maybe it was their growing feelings for each other. And maybe it was whatever was on Hutch’s mind these days—some new, unspoken preoccupation. It was personal, yes, but it was primarily work related, which confused Casey about how their relationship factored into it. But she knew the drill. She couldn’t and wouldn’t pry. If it was BU business, it was classified and unable to be shared.
But it was taking things to a whole new level of emotional strain.
“A penny for your thoughts.” Hutch leaned over and kissed Casey gently on the lips.
“Nothing exciting. I’m just tired.”
“Uh-huh.” Disbelief laced Hutch’s tone. “Let’s get up, take a shower, and have a meaningful talk. No bullshit and no interruptions.”
Casey tensed. It wasn’t that it was unusual for Hutch to read her mind. It was just that his words told her that this wasn’t going to be an average I-miss-you conversation. This was going to be some indiscernible moment of truth.
God, was she ready for whatever was about to come?
Only one way to find out.
“Okay, I’ll get up,” Casey agreed. Her heart was slamming nervously against her ribs. At the same time, her legs were still wobbly from their lovemaking. Quite the contrast.
She struggled for levity. “But forget any ideas you have about us showering together. If we do, it’ll be noon before we have our talk.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest it—not this time.” Hutch didn’t sound teasing. He
She buried her face in her pillow, determined to eclipse the day for just a few short hours.
“Morning, lazy.” Hutch clearly had different ideas. His deep voice came from just above her head. And it sounded very much awake.
“Lazy?” If Casey weren’t so wiped out, she’d laugh. “You kept me up until almost four a.m. I can tell it’s barely dawn. Besides, don’t sound so smug. I topped you in stamina last night.”
A chuckle. “That’s a pipe dream, sweetheart. It’ll never happen. And you’re certainly not helping your case now. Where’s that stamina you’re boasting about?”
“Recouping.”
“You’ve had two hours to recoup. Time to resume.”
Casey groaned. Hutch was a twenty-four seven kickass guy—mentally, physically, psychologically. He’d shone in his years as a DC cop, blown through his FBI new agent training at the top of his class, excelled throughout his career at the Bureau, and was now the unspoken leader of his team at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico.
It was disgusting how productive one human being could be. People called her a dynamo who could survive on little sleep. Well then, Supervisory Special Agent Kyle “Hutch” Hutchinson was one step away from superhuman.
He was already kissing the side of her neck. “Wake up, beautiful.”
“I can’t.” But Casey could already feel her body responding. When it came to Hutch, it always did.
“Try.”
She did, and with great success. It wasn’t a surprise; she was as starved for him as he was for her.
The problem was, with Hutch stationed in Quantico, Virginia, and Forensic Instincts deeply entrenched in Manhattan—not to mention both hers and Hutch’s insane schedules—they only got to see each other once a month, if they were lucky. And that was just too damned long to be apart.
The tension over this tough obstacle in their relationship was intensifying. They were both feeling the strain.
Neither of them was a child. They’d been together a long time, close to two years. Casey was thirty-two, and Hutch was coming up on thirty-five. This wasn’t the story of two teenagers going to two separate colleges. They were two adults, very much in love, very committed to each other, and struggling with a virtually insurmountable situation.
It wasn’t as if they didn’t discuss it. They did—a lot.
This visit’s conversations were even more difficult, and more raw, than most.
Maybe it was Marc’s upcoming wedding that was making them feel more sentimental. Maybe it was their growing feelings for each other. And maybe it was whatever was on Hutch’s mind these days—some new, unspoken preoccupation. It was personal, yes, but it was primarily work related, which confused Casey about how their relationship factored into it. But she knew the drill. She couldn’t and wouldn’t pry. If it was BU business, it was classified and unable to be shared.
But it was taking things to a whole new level of emotional strain.
“A penny for your thoughts.” Hutch leaned over and kissed Casey gently on the lips.
“Nothing exciting. I’m just tired.”
“Uh-huh.” Disbelief laced Hutch’s tone. “Let’s get up, take a shower, and have a meaningful talk. No bullshit and no interruptions.”
Casey tensed. It wasn’t that it was unusual for Hutch to read her mind. It was just that his words told her that this wasn’t going to be an average I-miss-you conversation. This was going to be some indiscernible moment of truth.
God, was she ready for whatever was about to come?
Only one way to find out.
“Okay, I’ll get up,” Casey agreed. Her heart was slamming nervously against her ribs. At the same time, her legs were still wobbly from their lovemaking. Quite the contrast.
She struggled for levity. “But forget any ideas you have about us showering together. If we do, it’ll be noon before we have our talk.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest it—not this time.” Hutch didn’t sound teasing. He
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