by T Gephart
Forcing my eyes back where they belonged, I ignored the audience who were thankfully out of earshot. “Tibbs wants me to keep an eye on you for the next few days. And I think it’s a good idea.”
“My brother said what?” She was throwing off so much aggression I actually took a step back. And damn if it didn’t turn me on all at the same time. Thank God I was wearing turnouts because a visible hard-on right now would be bad on so many levels.
“I know, I know.” I put my hands up, showing her that I wasn’t going to throw her over my shoulder. Though given a choice, I’d like nothing more than to do that exact thing. “You don’t need him, or me, or anyone else hovering. If it were me, I’d feel the exact same way.”
She calmed, caught off guard by me agreeing with her. “It’s ridiculous, and more to the point offensive. I’m not going to be handled like some little kid. I’m a grown woman, and I know what’s best for me.”
“You’re right. It is offensive, and for whatever role I’ve played in that, I’m sorry. You’re a grown woman who knows her own mind.”
Every single word of that was true, and I didn’t doubt for a second I would have reacted the exact same way if Tibbs, North, or even the chief were trying to muscle me. Hell, even I had weighed in, assuming I knew how she felt or how she should feel. Not my fucking finest hour and not something I wanted to repeat. But seeing her in front of me, I just couldn’t contribute to that. Not anymore.
Her eyes darkened, probably trying to guess if my one-eighty wasn’t more of the handling we’d spoken about. She couldn’t be sure, and I didn’t blame her. “Right. So then that’s settled.”
“If that’s what you want, Presley, then it’s settled. I’ll go back and tell Tibbs to lay the fuck off and make sure he does. But,” I moved closer, closing the distance between us. “If you wanted me to just . . . I don’t know, be around a little, just to be sure, I can do that. Your rules. You say back off and I’ll leave. No bullshit, Presley. It will be totally your call.”
It wouldn’t be easy, and if anything happened to her, I’d probably never forgive myself. But I wasn’t willing to burn down the whole fucking bridge, we were still friends, right? Us sleeping together had done damage, no doubt about it, but I wasn’t willing to put any more cracks in those foundations.
“You’d back off?”
“If that’s what you want, yeah.” I nodded, praying to God that wasn’t what she asked for.
“And if I agreed—and I’m not saying I am—to this—” She waved her hand around. “Keeping an eye on me. Then what? You’re going to follow me around like a puppy.” Most of the anger was gone, a small, hesitant smile that she was fighting pulled at her lips.
“Presley, is this where you ask me to sit and beg?” It was my turn to grin. “Part of me thinks you’d love it. Ordering me around, testing how far you can push me.”
And, fuck me, if she wasn’t the only one who was curious. I wasn’t even sure the idea was still a good one, the dirty part of my brain rationalizing if she asked me to get naked that I’d be duty-bound to comply. So much gray area, and yet, there I was, willing to sign on the dotted line.
Her lips pressed into a line, the urge to smile wider, a battle she was losing. “Well, maybe it’s something we could try. Like for a day. And only if you promise on your mother that you will do exactly what I say.”
“Firstly, you’re never going to let me forget that, are you? I said it, one fucking time and I was trying to get my point across. So, you need to leave her out of it,” I warned, seeing the humor in it while not needing the visual of my mom’s disproving face. Best she kept thinking her baby boy was a saint, living in denial that my place on the wall of saints and angels was deserved. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her any different and break the woman’s heart. “And secondly, within reason. You want to use me as your own personal science experiment, we’re going to have issues. But, other than that, I’ll agree.”
It was a bad deal.
I knew it, she knew it, even the fucking dumbass lawyer who’d handled my oldest sister’s divorce and fucked it up—she was still paying her ex-husband’s tax bill—would agree it was a huuuuuuge mistake.
But regardless of all that knowledge, the risk, and the chance of epic fallout, I wasn’t saying no.
I put out my hand, the shake the only acceptable physical contact I was able to offer with her brother watching and my turnouts covered in ash and soot. Which was probably for the best anyway, because I was sure the kind of physical contact I wanted to offer wasn’t fit for a public street.
“What do you say, Presley? Trial run?”
The hand that was so deliciously resting on her hip moved and gripped mine, the pressure when she closed it making my balls ache. “Okay, but you can’t get weird on me.”
“Weird how?” I asked, dropping her hand and wondering what she meant. Like when I kissed her in the club the other night, or the night before that when I took her to bed.
“Like sending me messages the next day, pretending you didn’t sleep with me. We’re adults, I’m not going to get amnesia and forget we slept together. Which I might add, was a problem for you and not for me.”
Oh, she had no idea.
None.
“Well, isn’t it lucky we’re going to have all this time to work it out then? And if you thought for a second I’d forget that, then you’re even dumber than your brother.” I leaned forward almost whispering in her ear. “I haven’t forgotten shit. Not about you, and not about that night. And especially not how good my name sounded when you moaned it.” I pulled back, watching as her pupils dilated. I wondered if she was thinking about what we did, about how good I’d made her feel. And if it made her as hot as it did me. “Now, if I don’t get my ass on the engine and get back to the station, I’m going to hear about it for the next week. And I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be too. So I’ll call you later, and we’ll work out how this will go down. I’m off for the next forty-eight, I’ll come by your place after I finish shift tomorrow. Take care.”
Giving her a quick wave, I turned around before I did something stupid.
Like kiss her.
And considering she hadn’t even asked me to do that, that transgression would’ve been all on me.
Wasn’t sure it wasn’t worth the risk.
“Wait?” She grabbed my arm, her hand stopping me from leaving. “Tomorrow morning? You guys finish at like what? Seven, eight? I’m not going to be coherent that early. I’m going to be at Diablo tonight until three.” Her head shook, thinking something as minor as a locked door was going to be a roadblock.
Not. Likely.
Especially not if I had permission.
“Your brother has a spare key, I’ll let myself in. You won’t even know I’m there,” I offered, thinking it was less invasive than just breaking the door down.
Her hand didn’t let go, keeping me from moving. Little did she know, I was in no hurry to go. “Yeah, because that doesn’t sound creepy at all. You’re going to just let yourself into my apartment and wait until I wake up? You going to watch me while I sleep too?”
“Is that what you want?” I asked, having no problem with that scenario. I’d probably enjoy it a lot more than she’d think too. “I tell you what, have a think about it and leave me a note. It will be a test on how good I am at following instructions. And I know how much you love giving them.”
“Leighton, we’ve got to go,” North yelled from down the road. We’d already loitered longer than we needed to and if we didn’t get back soon there’d be all kinds of questions.
“See you in the morning, Presley. Don’t forget that list.” My head tilted to where her hand was, her grasp relaxing.
Her nod lacked her usual confidence, a mumbled, “bye” tossed my way before catching the light which had changed again.
And with her heading on her way, I had no reason not to be on mine, turning back to where North, Evans, Rev, and Tibbs were all assembled, waiting for m
e.
“Leighton, the other engine already left.” Rev shook his head. “What were you doing?”
Tibbs eyes cut to mine, the expectation all over his face. “She cool?”
“All good, brother.” I clapped him on the shoulder, trying to convince myself as well. “I’ll explain everything when we get back to the station, but she’s agreed. Oh, and another thing, I’m going to need her spare key.”
He didn’t even ask why, a relieved smile breaking out across his face. “I owe you. Now let’s get back before Cap and Chief both blow a gasket. We’ll just tell him the rookie needed to take a piss.”
“Hey!” Evans objected, the evil look spelling out he wasn’t taking the fall. “Cap saw Leighton walk off, you guys aren’t pinning it on me.”
I rolled my eyes, popping open the door to the engine and jumping in. “Let’s just get back. It’s probably going to be a long shift.”
Presley
YOU’D THINK SUNDAY nights would be easy, but not in Manhattan. It was just another night, the club packed to capacity, the hours just as long. Add to that the information Raelle had so helpfully dug up, and it was an interesting night.
Scott Collins had decided to spend more of his daddy’s money. He and a few of his—beautiful but not all that bright—friends had conspired to buy a club in L.A. and turn it into the biggest celebrity haunt on the west coast.
Morons.
The lot of them.
Firstly, none of them—and I’m talking about seven successful actors, some who had a few awards on the mantel—had any kind of industry experience. Unless you counted frequenting clubs and bars, they were all completely oblivious. And if that weren’t enough of a deterrent into dropping a whole bunch of cash into an investment that had a high chance of failure, none of them had any business experience either.
Nothing.
Not even a fundraising campaign when they were all freshman at Beverly High.
Zip.
Instead, they were a crew of young, sexy, and privileged white guys whose good looks and connections—and sure they had some talent—got them onto our screens. And when they weren’t on their daytime drama/recurring series/B Grade movie/streaming service original/token hot guy in the blockbuster, they traveled in packs, drinking and partying. Posting pictures on their social media and living their best lives. Guys would give their right arm to trade places, while hordes of women wanted to fuck them. And for someone like me, they were an easy mark.
They only bought top shelf or exclusive, not even bothering to check the amount on their tab before closing it out with a thick black Amex. Their tags and check-ins provided advertising that money couldn’t buy, and for the most part they were harmless. Sure, there was the sex in the bathrooms, but they kept it to the VIP area so other than their “own kind” no one else had a clue. And there was the occasional drug use that needed to be dealt with as well. We had a zero-tolerance rule on the floor, not willing to lose my liquor license because some asshole needed to get high. Which meant they were kindly—making a scene didn’t serve a purpose for any of us—asked to leave and not return.
But other than that, it was all good.
We each had our part and we both did it so well. You made them feel special, stroked their ego and it was easy money in the cash drawer.
So why they wanted to screw with the system and get their hands dirty was beyond me. But apparently that was exactly what they had planned, Scott spearheading the movement which was probably why he was all dick-in-his-hand at Diablo the other night propositioning me. I had a hunch I knew what he wanted; the lack of experience, savvy, or even just knowledge, a clue as to why someone like me was needed.
I groaned as I entered my apartment, tossing my keys onto my sideboard and locking the door behind me. Raelle had given me a ride again, but she didn’t come up, me convincing her it was all good. It still sent a shiver down my spine when I opened the door and checked everything was as I left it. But surely Lewis wouldn’t be stupid enough to come back after he knew the police had been called.
Thankfully, the apartment was empty. Nothing out of place, the soft smell of lemon floor cleaner still lingering in the air from my aggressive mopping before I’d left. I’d been excessively cleaning, hoping to cleanse the feeling of his invasion. But other than a super clean apartment, it hadn’t really helped.
The tension in my shoulders relaxed, the air in my lungs coming out a little slower as I took a moment to stand in my entrance way and assure myself I was fine. I was home, safe, and I was going to be horizontal and asleep very soon.
Before I could settle into my soft sheets and hopefully peaceful dreams, I needed to shower. The smell of the club got into your skin and hair and there was nothing more therapeutic than washing it all off after a long day. I undressed in my bathroom, dropping my clothes to the floor while the hot water kicked in, the room filling with steam shortly after. My hand instinctively reached out, testing the water and adjusting the faucets before I got in, an audible groan of relief pushing past my lips as the water cascaded down.
It was quick, my nightly/early morning ritual so ingrained that I did it with my eyes mostly shut. And then when I was clean, my body and hair smelling fresh and floral, I shut off the water and stepped out. I didn’t even bother getting into my pjs, towel drying my hair as best I could and then slipping into my bed, naked.
I wasn’t sure if the exhaustion of my mind or body was responsible, sleep coming quickly as I shut my eyes. I didn’t even think, my brain hitting a flatline the minute my head hit the pillow.
It had to be hours later before I moved for the first time, my body stretching out in my king-sized bed as I rolled onto my side, my eyes slightly opening as I repositioned.
My apartment was kept dark. Given my nocturnal hours weren’t conventional, I didn’t need a cheerful sunrise ruining what should be my nighttime. Which was why I had blackout drapes, the heavy folds of fabric so thick they’d probably withstand a nuclear blast.
The only exception was a small essential oil diffuser, the soft glow of blue light piercing the darkness as the water gently bubbled. Which was how I knew it was still early, my hand hitting the timer for five hours, set just before crawling into my bed at four. And that dim blue glow was just enough for me to see the dark shadowy figure, slumped on my couch.
My body held in a breath, my pulse kicking up speed as I willed my eyes to focus. I wouldn’t panic just yet, giving my mind a chance to assess the situation before I totally freaked out. My phone was right beside me, and the figure wasn’t moving, so if nothing else, I had options. The open plan didn’t give me a lot of places to hide, the thing I loved most about my apartment also the most dangerous.
Oh.
Hell.
I hadn’t even fully debated whether I should go lock myself in my bathroom and call 9-1-1 when I remembered exactly who that figure was. And had yesterday not been such a shitshow between Scott’s early morning wake-up, Lorena’s follow-up and then an intense night at Diablo, I’d have remembered I was expecting a house guest. Might have reminded myself to put on pajamas as well.
Jared. Leighton.
My body flushed hot without even saying it out loud, the idea that the only thing between us was a couple of feet, making my pulse race again.
I’ll admit, the thought of sliding out from my covers and confronting him naked, was appealing. Wondering if he’d push aside that duty/honor bullshit and cave like he did the other night in his car. Or if he’d think it was some tragic and desperate attempt at attention.
And he probably wouldn’t be wrong.
No.
No, I wasn’t tragic or desperate, and there was nothing wrong with having a healthy sexual desire. No one made my brother feel like a freak when he couldn’t keep a steady girlfriend, or when he was dry humping random women in the corner of Diablo.
Deciding to compromise—rejection when you were naked would sting like no other—I slithered silently from my sheets and grabbed the nig
htie I hadn’t put on after my shower. It was still hanging off a chair where I’d left it, the pale pink satin more like a slip than sleepwear, pulled over my head and smoothed down my body.
Underwear was an issue, my collection of panties sitting in a dresser drawer I didn’t open as I crept on my toes out to the living area. Sneaking around in my own apartment was ridiculous, and yet, there I was, doing my best not to make any noise so I maintained the element of surprise. It reminded me of being sixteen again, cracking the door open early in the morning when he’d sleep over, his big, sexy passed out figure sprawled over the spare mattress in my brother’s room. I fantasized about crawling under those covers more than just a few times, my brother being less than two feet away in his own bed stopping me every single time I wanted to be brave.
My feet hadn’t even made it all the way to the couch when his eyes cracked open, and then went wide.
“Fuck,” he coughed out shifting himself back up the couch.
His long legs had hung over the edges, my generous three-seater comfortable, but still not big enough for his large frame.
“You look pathetic on that couch.” My hand anchored on my hip as I switched on a small table lamp. “You should make it a point not to piss off your future wife, I’m almost positive you wouldn’t be able to afford the back care.” I pointed to his hand which was rubbing the back of his neck.
His legs shifted, two socked feet landing on the floor and accepting his weight as he stood. “Yeah, well, I’ll be sure to remember that when I get married, thanks for the tip. I must have dozed off. And isn’t it early for you to be up?”
From his vantage point he could see straight down the top of my nightie. I wasn’t wearing a bra, the tiny ribbon straps doing their best to keep everything contained. And if the heat from his gaze was anything to go by, they’d have burned my nightie right off, his eyes roaming across my body like they didn’t know where to look.
“Yeah it is, but I forgot you were coming, and I was three seconds away from calling the cops.” I tried to ignore there was literally a slither of satin between me being naked, acting like his eyes all over me wasn’t turning me on.
