Breaking Bad

by Karin Tabke

  He stood staring at her, that flirty boyish smile that got her every time tugging at his full lips.

  “It’s been a long time, Stevie,” he rasped, his breath warm and minty.

  Visions of their sweaty, naked bodies writhing in passion amongst the twisted sheets in her academy hotel room shimmered through her mind. Shame rose in her cheeks. Not for losing control, but for allowing this man to tap into her heart and not being strong enough to shrug it off.

  He bit his bottom lip and slowly let go of it as his gaze swept her heated face. “Too damn long.”

  She slapped him. Hard. The white imprints of her fingers quickly turned an angry red against his tan cheek. His jaw tightened for just the barest of seconds before he grabbed her hand and yanked her roughly against his chest, forcing her breath from her lungs.

  “Was that because I didn’t call you or because I wouldn’t let you get on top?” he growled.

  She caught a groan as another vision sprang into her mind’s eye. Jack was dominant. In bed and out. She had wanted to get on top, but each time she had tried, he’d raised her hands above her head and held them there as she gladly allowed him to take what he wanted from her. His voracious appetite, once it had been sated, had left her as helpless as a limp noodle. Her breasts had been tender for days, her kiss-swollen lips taking nearly a week to stop tingling, and the way the core of her had throbbed, wanting him to fill her again and again, had never subsided. It was her heart that had taken the longest to recover, because once Jack Thornton had penetrated the trauma plate protecting her most vital of organs, her heart, then tapped into her dormant sexuality, she was lost to him forever. He’d made her feel strong and beautiful. Protected and spoiled. She’d been Wonder Woman in his arms. Like a fool she’d allowed herself to think she had a future with him. The dynamic duo fighting crime during the day and making mad crazy love every night. How perfectly high school was that? She’d been such a fool.

  “No,” she breathed. “That’s because you were, and still are, an egotistical bastard.”

  “What’s so egotistical about making love to a beautiful woman?”

  “It was more like seducing a virgin.” She pushed away from him and yanked her jacket off the back of her chair, sliding it on as if it would protect her. “You were the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.” She made to move past him to show him the door, when he grabbed her upper arm, stopping her cold. Swallowing hard, she fought to control the heat spreading through her.

  Jack pulled her closer. His natural spicy clean scent moved with him. It was the same as it had been all those years ago. Her pillow had smelled of him long after he left.

  Lowering his lips to her ear, he asked softy, “Do you remember the first time I touched you? In front of fifty recruits?”

  She shivered at the memory. “You mean manhandled me?”

  “It was the third week of defensive tactics class. I’d been watching you beat the shit out of every partner I paired you with. You were so eager to prove something to all of us.” His lips brushed against her ear sending waves of pleasure racing through her body. “I saw how you watched me, yearning for my approval.” His long fingers caressed her hand. “I wanted yours, too, Stevie, but not the way you wanted mine.” His fingers tightened around hers. “I called you out that morning, commanded you to drop to all fours on the mats. You dropped so fast, I think you shocked everyone in that room.” Deeply, he inhaled her scent. “Most of all me. I can still feel the way you heated and trembled when I covered your body with mine. The way your skin flushed pink like it’s flushing now. That’s when I knew your secret.”

  Stevie struggled against the truth. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

  “Does it scare you? What I know?”

  Turning away from him, she said, “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Look at me,” he commanded softly.

  She shook her head. If she looked at him now he’d know she was lying.

  When she refused his command, he notched her chin up with his forefinger. Digging deep for control, she looked right at him, forcing her lips not to tremble as his breath softly caressed them.

  “Stop being so caustic, Stevie. You know it was good between us.”

  “It was mediocre at best.”

  “Liar.”

  Regaining control she shrugged. “I’ve had a dozen men since you and each one was better than that night with you.”

  Cocking a dark brow, he stepped back and released her.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Now, please leave, I have a job to do.”

  He grinned and shook his head.

  Stiffening she said, “I don’t know why you’re here, but if it’s to rekindle something, let me be clear about where I stand: We had a one-night stand and you weren’t man enough to tell me that was all you wanted from me. So don’t think you can come walking back into my life all these years later and pick up where we left off. I’ve moved on. Translated that means I’m. Not. Interested.”

  “I’m not here to rekindle our past relationship, Stevie, I’m here to build a new one.” Jack smiled that Boy Scout smile, pulled back the right side of his tailored suit and said, “Special Agent Jackson Thornton at your service, ma’am.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jack watched the shock register in the deepest blue eyes he’d ever lost himself in. Deep blue eyes that morphed from shock to controlled fury.

  Stevie looked good when she was angry. She looked better naked and out of breath. Despite her knack for downplaying her assets, she was a knockout. His reaction to her was as primal today as it had been when he first set eyes on her seven years ago. With that realization came another one: Manufacturing this meeting was a colossal mistake.

  “I don’t need your service, Special Agent Thornton. Go fight your own crime and leave me to mine.” Turning away from him, Stevie settled back into her chair and put her eye to the camera lens, dismissing him. When he made no move to exit, she said, “I don’t hear you leaving.”

  Jack hadn’t thought for a minute that meeting this firecracker again would be anything less than explosive. She was proving to be quite volatile. What he hadn’t expected was his reaction to her. The physical reaction was a given. They’d had that inexplicable once-in-a-lifetime chemically charged sexual attraction to each other from their first meeting, but when she turned around and caught her breath, he was speechless. He’d felt as surprised as she. Like he’d been gut-punched. The emotional hit he took at seeing her again shook him to his foundation. He didn’t expect it and he sure as hell didn’t like it. Instantly he regretted his decision to head up the task force that had been formed to bring in Spoltori.

  She was going to launch out of control when he told her why he was there. Maybe he should just bow out while he still could . . . but no, that would be easy and Jack never did easy. He did rough. He’d get what he came for from Stevie, but he wanted Spoltori, too, and Stevie was the key to that door.

  “And you won’t hear me leaving until the DA charges Spoltori for three counts of murder.”

  He watched her spine stiffen. Slowly she turned in her chair, the fine bone of her jaw set at a hard angle. Pushing back her jacket sleeves, she stood so that her eyes were level with his chin. Tilting her head back, with calm he knew she didn’t feel, Stevie said, “This is my case. My team and I have been working it twenty-four-seven since the first body turned up three and a half months ago. We don’t want your help and we don’t need it. Go force yourself on someone else.”

  So Russo hadn’t told her about the task force? It wasn’t like his old FTO not to brief her.

  “I’m not going to get into a pissing match with you, Cavanaugh. Your chief reached out to us. We agreed to lend a hand.” He extended his to her. She took a step backward as if it would bite her.

  “Take it, Stevie.”

  “No,” she
breathed.

  “As the task force leader, I insist.”

  Anger flashed in her deep blue eyes, but she kept her cool. “I’m not being kicked down to second chair on my case.”

  “It’s out of your hands.”

  Shaking her head, she grabbed her backpack from the tabletop next to her chair and slung it over her shoulder. “There’s where you’re wrong, cowboy.” As she moved past him, she said, “I’m not working with you.”

  Leashing the impulse to force her to stay didn’t come easy. But Jack held his ground. “I thought I trained you better than that, Cavanaugh.”

  She whirled around and speared him with her furious eyes.

  “You trained me all right. You spent countless hours tutoring me in the classroom, on the range, and in defensive tactics.” She strode back toward him. “You also taught me how to ride out an orgasm until my throat was raw from screaming.”

  He forced himself to keep his hands at his sides. God, he wanted to sink his fingers into that thick braid of hers and take it apart as he took the rest of her apart.

  Stevie smiled slyly and he braced himself. “But you taught me my biggest life lesson to date, Jack.” She traced a finger down his pale green silk tie and leaned into his hard body.

  “What was that?” He breathed, inhaling her fresh tropical scent.

  “Trust no one.”

  He knew when he’d left her bed that morning there would be hell to pay if their paths ever crossed again. He’d felt bad about it, but there was more to it than she knew, and he knew if he tried to explain now she’d tell him to fuck off. “I’m sorry, Stevie.” He meant it. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. Hadn’t meant to run out on her like he had. But shit happened and now—here they were seven years later and the sparks were still there. He was fucked.

  She nodded. “You got that right. You’re the sorriest excuse for a man I’ve met.” Then she strode out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. He wished she’d slammed it. He preferred her outright fury over her quiet hurt. Jack swiped his hand across his chin. There were no perks for being the schmuck responsible for ruining such a force of nature as Stevie Cavanaugh. He should have stuck around to explain. But he was afraid that had he, he’d have stayed.

  Furious, Stevie headed back to the PD. Captain Russo had some explaining to do.

  Fifteen minutes later she barged into his office, soundly shutting his door behind her.

  “What the hell, Captain?”

  Twenty years her senior, Captain Russo was a robust, handsome man who took his job seriously. He was a solid leader, but damn if she was going to let him give her case away.

  “I take it you met Agent Thornton?”

  At the mention of his name her body thrummed with heat. He was still under her skin, damn it! If her captain knew their history he’d never have saddled her with him. Or worse, he’d pull her off her own damn case because the GD feds always got their GD way! “Why didn’t you tell me the feds were coming in? This is my case. I’m making progress.”

  “Sit down, Cavanaugh.”

  “I don’t want to sit down.”

  He scowled. “It wasn’t a request.”

  She sat, but leaned toward his desk. “I’m not working with Thornton.”

  “You don’t have a say in this, Detective. That’s straight from the top. Chief Dougherty instructed me to give the feds whatever they want. They want you on the case, and frankly if they didn’t, I’d insist. You’re a damn good investigator with an instinct for Spoltori, and I know if given the time you’d wrap him up in a nice little bow for the DA. But there is no more time. The next full moon is two weeks from tonight. The mayor wants an arrest. Make it before the body count goes up.”

  “I’m close, Captain. I have several solid leads I’m working on right now, leads that will crack the case wide open.”

  “Then give them to Thornton. Give him whatever the hell he wants.”

  What did Jack want from her? He had to have known when he was appointed to the task force that he’d be working with her. Why? “You have no idea what you’re asking of me, Captain.”

  “I’m asking you to be the professional I know you are.”

  Stevie stood. “I’ll quit the case before I’ll work with Jack Thornton.”

  Captain Russo scowled as he considered her statement. “This isn’t like you. What’s going on here?”

  “Nothing—I—He’s arrogant and will impede the case. I can’t work with him.”

  Captain Russo nodded, then stood and leaned across his wide desk. “I’m going to make this crystal clear for you, Detective: Quit the case and you’re fired.”

  “You can’t fire me!”

  “The hell I can’t! For Christ’s sake, Cavanagh, you’re acting like a spoiled brat. The old man would turn over in his grave if he caught wind of this insubordinate behavior. Get whatever it is you need to get right in your head and make an arrest.” He nodded past her to the closed door. “You’re free to go.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Stevie turned at her captain’s orders and stopped cold. Through the glass door she watched Jack strut into the squad room like he owned the damn place. “Fuck me,” she cursed.

  “Say again, Detective?” Captain Russo asked.

  Exhaling she shook her head and said, “Nothing,” then pushed the door open and prepared for battle.

  As she stood outside her captain’s door, Stevie watched Donna, the squad secretary, puddle on the floor in front of the special agent.

  Stevie harrumphed. He was “special,” damn it. Desire seeped hot and quick to her nether regions as she gazed unabashed at her onetime lover. How many women had he been with since their one night together? Did he ever think of her?

  She drank him in, but would never admit to anyone she liked what she saw. He was taller than her five eight by a good half a foot. His linebacker shoulders supported a wide powerful chest that tapered down into a flat belly that she knew was as hard as granite. Her eyes dipped lower to the rise of his tailored trousers. Jack Thornton had not only been generously endowed but he had also been gifted the stamina of a prize bull. He’d made it impossible for her to entertain the thought of another man in her bed.

  It would be a lie if she said she didn’t crave what he did to her. That a night didn’t go by that she didn’t think of the heat of his lips, the dominance of his hands, or the thick pulse of him inside of her. She’d woken more times than she could count, hot, sweaty, and hungry for him. She hated him for it. Hated him for making her ache for him. Hated him for ruining any possibility of a normal relationship with another man. Mostly she hated herself for still wanting him despite his cool dismissal of her.

  Donna’s giggles, as she looked adoringly up at Jack, rubbed Stevie in all the wrong ways. Donna was petite, blond, and curvy—Stevie wasn’t. She was tall, brunette, and lean. Donna was sweet and demure, the kind of woman men swarmed to protect. Stevie needed no protection. She was the protector, the kind of woman guys ran from.

  When Jack’s smiling eyes rose from the flirty secretary’s to Stevie’s, he grinned and winked. Her nails bit into the palms of her hands. Feeling suffocated in her own squad room, she strode toward him. Two steps before she would pass him he stepped into her path.

  “I’d like to meet your team, Detective, and introduce you to mine.”

  Stevie slammed his shoulder as she walked by. “My team is actually working, Special Agent Thornton, not cavorting.” Stevie wanted to add, with the local bimbo, but she didn’t, because as much as she wanted to dislike Donna for being comfortable in her femininity when Stevie was not, and for allowing the men to see her vulnerabilities, which Stevie would never reveal to anyone in the department, the woman was damn good at what she did.

  As she strode from the squad room she pulled her cell out and called her partner Oliveras.

  “Damn
it,” she cursed when it went straight to voice mail. “Call me asap, Oliveras, I have a few unwelcome updates to share.” Shoving the phone into her back pocket she headed down the hall, bypassing the elevator, and took the stairway down two flights to the rear exit.

  As she closed her car door, it was yanked open. Special Agent Jack Thornton leaned in, grabbed the keys from her and said, “Move over.”

  “Fuck off, Thorn.”

  He yanked her from the car, catching her completely off guard.

  “I’m not fucking kidding, Detective,” he ground out.

  She slapped his hands away moving back to get into the driver’s seat. “Fuck you.”

  “Out of my way or you’ll be disciplined.”

  The blood drained from her cheeks as other parts of her flamed. Jack’s form of discipline was sweet torture. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I would dare and then some.” He backed her against the doorjamb without touching her. “Go ahead and give me a reason to take you over my knee.” His eyes were hidden by the dark sunglasses he wore, but she could well imagine their intensity.

  “You’re not the boss of me,” she squeaked, knowing she sounded like a kid.

  “I am when we’re on the clock. And right now you’re going to ride shotgun.”

  Stevie swallowed hard, fighting the Jack battle on several fronts. Her pride refused to be bossed around by him while her body refused to settle down in his presence. Once again, she had lost the grip on her tightly held resolve. Stevie Cavanaugh didn’t do breathless disheveled, she did hard-core control.

  “Stop fighting me, damn it,” Jack said.

  “I can’t work with you,” she said, the words sounding like a forced plea. “I just—can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both,” she blurted.

  “Both are choices, Detective. Right now, I’d like you to choose to get into the passenger seat and drive back to the surveillance room with me and bring me up to speed on your case.”