by Lily London
“Then you know where the door is,” Clay said, as he turned to head towards another door, I was assuming his bedroom.
“A massage and a heating pad help with the leg pain.”
Clay stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me. I could tell he was trying to figure out where to go from here. He could ask me what I was talking about, and then I would tell him I knew about his leg. Or he could tell me to mind my own business. I wasn’t sure which one he would pick, so I picked for him.
“My brother was an army ranger. I come from a military family. He stepped on a landmine and lost his right leg, all the way up to his upper thigh. He had a lot of pain with it, and the only thing that seemed to help was a massage of his leg and putting a heating pad on it. You walk like he did.”
“You talk about him in the past tense.” Clay said, as he moved back over to the kitchen.
“He didn’t adapt well to civilian life. He only had a year of a fight left in him before he took his own life. That was eight years ago. I enlisted when I turned eighteen, so I could be over there with him. We were only eighteen months apart, so we were close. He just couldn’t recover from it, couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t there for him. I was in Afghanistan when it happened. It took me a while to come to terms with it.”
I could see the interest in Clay’s eyes. He wasn’t expecting to hear me tell him this, but he was interested in what I had to say. I was relieved to see no sympathy or pity in his eyes like I normally got.
“How did you?”
He almost sounded desperate for the answer. As if what I did would somehow work for him.
I let out a soft sigh before speaking. “One of the hardest things as a soldier is being able to accept the things you cannot change. I reached out to him as best as I could. But it was on him in the end to keep fighting. To get better. We all have loved ones that will struggle from time to time, and we’ll want to help them. But we can’t force them to take the steps towards a better life. All I can do is learn from my actions and try and prevent it from happening again.”
“Easier said than done.” Clay admitted softly.
“Yeah, it is. Working in homicide I see so many dead bodies, and they all have a story. The ones that drive me the most insane, though, are the easy ones. The ones where the wife was beaten to death by her husband. All the previous domestic violence calls and charges that were dropped because she went and got him out. I know you can’t blame the victim, and there is a whole shit load of psychological crap wrapped into it. But I always think to myself, why didn’t you walk away?”
“It’s not that simple. Some hide it better than others. Some do ask for help, and no one is there to answer their call. It’s not always on them,” Clay said with a slight edge to his voice, and I knew I unintentionally hit a nerve.
“I’m not saying it’s their fault at all. I’m saying that people also have to try and save themselves. Only they can decide if they want to keep fighting, and if they don’t, there isn’t anyone in the world that can change that. It was hard, it’s still hard, but the best way I can honor him and everything he sacrificed is by saving lives and putting as many criminals behind bars that I can.”
“Hence being a cop.”
“Exactly.” I pulled out my card and placed it down on the island countertop. “If you ever need to talk or want to grab a beer, give me a call.”
I gave Clay a wink as I turned and headed out. He didn’t say anything, I didn’t expect him to. I knew he was struggling, and he probably would for a long while yet. Still, that didn’t change that he was sexy as hell. I wasn’t one for getting too serious with someone, but he seemed like someone that would be fun to hang around. Might need to get a couple of beers into him to get him to loosen up, but I had no problem with that. All I could do now was wait and see. The ball was in his court.
CHAPTER 2
CLAY
It had been two weeks since I had seen Emma. When she left me her card, I picked it up and went to throw it out, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I hadn’t called her, but it was on my fridge. Every day I told myself I was going to toss it out, and yet every morning it was still there. I didn’t know what it was about her, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It wasn’t even what she said that played over in my head. It was the way her hair always looked like she just woke up and didn’t brush it. The way her eyes could see through you. How her shirt fit perfectly over her perky breasts, breasts that I knew would be a perfect handful for me, just the right size. Even when she left, I got a perfect view of her tight supple ass in her black skinny jeans.
I was used to being attracted to people. I had slept my way through many years in the military. What I wasn’t used to was this intense need to bend her over my island and pound into her. It had to be the lack of sex I’d had in three years, and by lack of sex I meant zero. I hadn’t been with anyone since I lost my leg. This was just built up sexual frustration, nothing more.
“You alright?”
I snapped out of my thoughts at Derek’s voice. He took a seat on the porch with me. I passed him a beer as I spoke. “I’m apparently sexually frustrated.”
Derek chuckled at that. “Alright, not where I thought this conversation was gonna go. Does this have anything to do with that detective’s number taped to your fridge?”
I let out a sigh. “Why can’t I throw it out? Why can’t I stop thinking about her?”
“Because you have the hots for her, and she gets you. We both know it’s hard to find a woman who understands what we’ve been through. She does. She had a brother go through it, and she went through it herself. Sometimes all it takes is one person to understand. You should call her.”
“And say what?”
“Hello is usually a good place to start.”
“You know what I mean,” I said as I rolled my eyes.
“We’ve been through hundreds of doors. Never knowing what is on the other side of them. We lived our life as one big risk. Sometimes it paid off, sometimes it didn’t. But if you don’t ever take the risk, you’ll never know. Some risks in life are worth taking and not taking some will leave you with nothing but regret. Call her, Clay. Start with dinner and see what happens.”
Derek patted my knee as he stood up. “I got a beautiful woman waiting to devour me at home. And you have a phone call to make.”
“Hm.”
Derek headed off to his house and left me with my thoughts. He made it a habit to see me before he headed home to make sure I was alright. I appreciated it.
“What do you think, Roxy?” I said, looking down at the animal I’d finally accepted was my dog.
She only wagged her tail and gave my leg a nudge. I couldn’t help but smile at her. She was a special girl, and I was lucky to have her. I got up and headed inside, I knew she would follow me. I grabbed my phone and finally dialed the number.
“Detective Watson,” she said after a few rings.
“Detective, it’s Clay.”
I am really hoping I wasn’t sounding awkward, even though I felt it. It was just a phone call. I could do this.
“Clay, hey. How are ya?” Emma said.
“Good. I hope it’s not too late for you.” I said, looking over at my oven clock. It was only seven, but I had no idea what shifts she worked.
“Not at all. I just got home. What are you doing?”
“Just finished work not too long ago.”
“Perfect. You should come over and have a drink with me.”
“You want me at your place?”
I was a little shocked. We didn’t really know each other, and yet she was perfectly ok with me going by her place. I would have expected her to be a bit more protective of where she lived.
“Yeah, why not? It’s not like I have to worry about you giving my information away or breaking in one night. You don’t have to come over if you don’t want. We could always meet another night. I was just offering.”
My mind was telling me this was a b
ad idea, and yet my body was screaming at me to go. In the end, my body won out.
“What’s your address?”
“I got your number. I’ll text it to you.”
“I’ll see you soon, then.”
“See ya soon, soldier.”
Emma ended the call, and I couldn’t help but take in a shaky breath. I had no idea what I was doing or why I even thought this would be a good idea. I was through the looking glass now, though, so I had no choice but to hope I didn’t have a panic attack while I was there.
“It’s just a drink, right?” I said to Roxy.
She barked, and I was going to take it as her telling me I was right. My phone beeped, and I looked down to see the text message from Emma. I threw on a pair of boots, grabbed my coat, and headed out. I just hoped I was making the right decision.
CHAPTER 3
EMMA
Ihad no idea what had come over me. I didn’t tend to invite people over to my home, much less a guy I really didn’t know. But there was just something about Clay. I still couldn’t get him out of my mind. I thought once the case was closed, and I saw him that last time, I would forget about him. Yet he kept invading my mind. I found myself dreaming about him and how his body would feel against mine. I would think about him while in the shower or on my way to work. He was everywhere, consuming me. I figured maybe I just needed to get him out of my system. I had no idea if he was interested, but he did agree to coming over here, so I was hoping that meant he was.
I went over to my dining room table and looked down at the papers that were spread all over it. I was in the middle of working what I’d thought was a double homicide but turned out to be a serial killer. He was up to four victims within the past two weeks, and I knew he wouldn't be stopping until we stopped him. So far, though, we had nothing. My team was working on trying to find some connection between the victims, and the crime lab was running all the forensics. I’d decided to come home and work from here after grabbing some dinner.
I was hoping we would have something soon before another body dropped. I gathered the papers and got them back in their folders. I didn’t need Clay to see them. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he got here, so I did a quick clean up, so it didn’t look like a hurricane went through my apartment. I knew his place was a little messy, but his was messy because of his PTSD, mine was messy because I was a slob. Big difference.
Before I knew it, he was knocking at my door. I did a quick sweep of the room, decided it was as good as it was going to get, and went over and answered the door. He was standing there in his normal clothes. Blue jeans, black t-shirt, leather jacket and black boots. To me he looked amazing. “Hey, come on in,” I said, moving back.
Clay walked in and scanned the room for exits and threats.
Typical soldier. I closed the door and headed over to my kitchen to grab us a drink. “Whiskey or beer man?” I asked.
“Either one, man.”.
I grabbed two beers, opening his before handing it to him. I headed over to the couch, and he followed me, sitting down next to me.
“How was work?” I asked.
“Good. We’ve been getting Chocolate used to being around some of the older horses.”
“Chocolate?”
“Abused horse that we took in. So far, he will only really let me be around him. We’ve been trying to get him used to being around other horses, so he can be outside in the paddock with them. It’s going well.”
“That’s good. It’s great that you guys take in animals that are in need. The world needs more of that.”
“It can be bleak at times. What about you? Any new cases?”
“Same case. Serial killer, killing female university students. He’s killed four within the past two weeks.”
“Shit. I haven’t heard anything about that in the news.”
“We’re trying to keep a lid on it. The last thing we need is a panic. So far, though, we have nothing. Crime lab is working on the evidence, and hopefully soon we’ll know what his victims had in common, besides the university.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Clay offered.
I didn’t really want to talk about work, and learning more about him sounded much better. “Nope. Tell me about yourself. You got any siblings?” I figured it was a safe topic, at least I did until he let out a shaky breath.
“I have a sister, Mylie. She’s twenty-two. She’s back home in Texas in a hospital. An ex-boyfriend beat her into a coma a year ago.”
I could hear the pain in his voice, and I was kicking myself for bringing it up. I had no idea he would have had a sibling, much less one that was in a coma.
“I’m so sorry. Do you think she’ll ever wake up?” God, I was hoping he would say yes.
“Docs don’t know, really. It’s possible. She called me that night, but I didn’t answer. I had been on the ranch already, and I was having a hard time. I didn’t answer any of her calls that night.” The guilt was thick in his voice.
“It’s not your fault. I’ve been there for domestics. You can’t make them leave. And even if she was ready to leave him, you were in different states. It’s not like you were down the street and could go and get her. He wanted to hurt her that night. He would have done it regardless of whether you answered the phone.”
“Maybe.”
I could tell from his tone that he wasn’t going to believe anything I had to say. So, I decided to switch it to another topic, one I knew would be safer.
“So, why a sniper?”
“Why intelligence?” he challenged.
“That’s easy, I like finding answers to questions. Plus, I can be really annoying with asking questions,” I said with a smirk.
“And now you are a detective. You said you were injured and got discharged. What was the injury?”
“Bullet tore through my right shoulder. There was some slight muscle damage that makes my hand shake slightly when I am firing a gun. I’m right-handed, so I was discharged. When I joined the police department, I taught myself how to shoot with my left, so I was good to go.”
“That’s impressive. It’s not easy to learn how to shoot with a non-dominant hand.”
“It wasn’t, but I have a natural talent with guns. Your turn, why a sniper?”
“Nothing crazy or profound. I was in basic training when we were learning how to shoot a rifle. I fell in love with it the second I pulled the trigger that first time. Everything around me melted away, and it was just me and the rifle. I’m also very impressive with it,” he said with a cocky smirk.
“I believe you.” I smiled back.
We were quiet for a few minutes just drinking our beer when Clay finally broke the silence. “So, now what do you want to talk about?”
We could have talked about nothing, or we could have talked about something that mattered. The problem was, I didn’t care for any of it. My body didn’t want talk, it wanted sex. It wanted to know what it felt like to have him against me. To feel his hands over my skin and I could tell he wasn’t here to talk either.
I placed my beer down on the table next to his before I went and straddled his lap.
“Nothing.” I said, and then his hand was shooting up, capturing me behind my neck and pulling me down to him.
The second his lips touched mine I felt a fire spreading through my whole body. I had never felt like this from just a simple kiss before. It was like my body was responding to his as if he were oxygen, and I had been suffocating without it. I could tell he was experiencing the same thing, as his hands quickly worked their way down my body.
We were both in dire need of the other, and I had no problem moving it along at a fast pace. I grabbed his shirt and pulled it off him, forcing us to break apart, but he took the same opportunity to remove mine from me. The second our shirts were removed, his mouth was back on mine. His hands explored my body, working their way over to my bra, removing it and freeing my breasts. He pulled back from the kiss and started to kiss down my neck as his hands went to
my breasts. I let out a soft moan as he pinched my right nipple and sucked on my neck.
“Clay.”
My hands went to his head as his mouth finally reached my breast and took it into his mouth. His hands went to work on undoing my pants as I started to grind into his already hard member. With my pants undone he quickly slid his hands into the back of my pants, grabbing my ass and thrusting his hips up to meet my clothed quim.
“Fuck,” I moaned.
I wanted him. I needed him. We had way too many clothes on still, and just as I was undoing his own jeans, my phone rang.
“Fuck,” I snapped, this time in frustration.
Clay moved his hands out of my pants and dropped the back of his head against my couch. He knew, just like I did, that I was not getting a personal call at this hour. I had to admit, though, I was glad he wasn’t too annoyed by the interruption. I reached over and picked up my phone.
“Watson,” I said, and Clay smirked at me as he moved his hands up to my breasts.
“I’m on my way,” I said, after hearing that there was yet another homicide. Talk about a mood killer.
I ended the call, and Clay spoke. “I know, you have to go.”
“Sorry. The nature of my job.”
It was one of the reasons why dating and I didn’t go well together. A lot of guys had an issue with me having to disappear at a moment’s notice.
“It’s fine. I get it. I’ve been in the middle of sex before, literally mid thrust, when I got the call for being spun up. She was pissed, but when you get the call, you gotta go.”
“To be continued?” I asked, praying he was going to say yes.
“Oh, hell yes.”
I threw him a smile before getting one more kiss and then getting up. I threw my clothes back on as he got dressed himself. We both headed out, but before I got into my truck, he pulled me into his arms, once again giving me a world-tilting kiss. The very last thing I wanted to do was get into my car, but I had no choice. Duty called. Clay pulled back and ran his thumb along my cheek.
