“Spread for me, baby. Let me . . .”
“No!” She shoved me then slid back, pulling her knees up.
I stared at her in shock. In trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t a selfish asshole, to appease my guilt, to make myself feel better—I’d almost forced her to give me what I needed. Again.
I shot to my feet, stumbling away from her, holding up my hands. “Fuck, Ruby. I’m sorry. I’d never . . . fuck.” I took another step back. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I needed to get the hell out of there.
Ruby was out of bed before I could walk away, racing around the bed and blocking the door. Her hands went to my gut, pushing, trying to stop me from leaving. “What is it? Tell me what’s going on?” she whispered. “Jesus, Neco, you’re freaking me out.”
All I could think was that I was basically treating her like all those men had treated my mother. She’d been hurt because of me, and I was doing the one thing that separated me from them, from those men with their black hearts. Always taking what I needed from her, caring only about my needs. I was supposed to do that for her. My mom used to cry when they left; sometimes she was inconsolable. The sight was stamped on my soul. I’d done awful things in my life, but I’d never mistreated a woman.
But tonight, I’d used Ruby . . . to appease the beast.
I was going to hyperventilate. There was too much shit going on in my head. Too much anger. Too much guilt.
“Jesus.” Ruby pressed against me. “Baby, sit down.”
I dropped to my ass, like someone had blown out my kneecaps, letting my head thump against the wall behind me and squeezed my eyes closed. I felt her hands on my face, felt her soft lips pressing against my cheeks, my jaw, listened to her soft words.
“Shhh. Just breathe. That’s it, slow and deep.”
It worked. Listening to her voice calmed me down enough so that I stopped feeling dizzy, the panic drifting away, the red rage fading. Ruby needed her man to be strong, and not only had I just humiliated myself in front of my woman, I’d let her down, back then, and now.
I slid my arms around her waist and held her to me tighter. I didn’t deserve her.
But no fucking way was I letting her go.
It was too late for that now.
* * *
Ruby
I woke alone.
Voices drifted in from the living room, deep, low voices that didn’t sound happy. Climbing out of bed, I pulled on some tights and dragged Neco’s T-shirt from last night back on . I walked out of the room and down the short hall. Van was standing across from Neco, and they were deep in conversation.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I crossed the room.
Neco watched me as I approached. The look on his face told me he was still uneasy about what happened last night. After sitting on the floor with him for close to an hour, he’d picked me up and climbed into bed, wrapping me in his arms. He finally told me how damn helpless he was feeling, that his meeting with Raul hadn’t gone well, and they were no closer to finding Scott or the people behind that sick fucking website.
I hated that he felt that way, that he actually felt like he was letting me down. I tried to tell him he was wrong, but I knew he wasn’t done punishing himself.
My stomach was still in knots over what Neco found on Scott’s laptop. I was still trying to process the fact that strangers had seen me doing the most intimate things a woman could do, but something about the video Scott had kept of the night I spent with him was too much for me to deal with, especially since I remembered none of it.
“Just a case we’re working,” Neco said, barely meeting my eyes.
What in the hell?
“You sure about that?” I closed the space between us, leaning into his side as I stole his coffee cup from him, took a sip, then handed it back. I felt his body relax. Did he think I was pissed at him? He kept apologizing to me last night, but he had nothing to apologize for. He needed to know that this was a two-way street. If he needed me, I was there for him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and ask if he was okay, talk to him, make him understand, but I couldn’t do anything with an audience.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said finally, sliding his arm around me and holding me to his side.
I glanced at Van, brow raised. His expression was unreadable, and he kept his lips firmly shut.
“We’ll be finished up soon,” Neco said. “Why don’t you go grab a shower and I’ll make you breakfast when you’re done?”
They were trying to get rid of me, which meant whatever they were talking about was definitely something I needed to know. “Don’t you dare keep me in the dark. I don’t need protecting, not from the truth. If you know something . . . tell me. Besides, there’s nothing you need to hide from me, I’m an agent now, remember? Plus, I used to work for you. I’ve heard it all.”
Van sipped his coffee then leaned back against the counter. “Sorry to tell you this, but there’s a lot you didn’t know about the agency and what we do.”
My spine straightened. I was pissed off and offended all at once. “What do you mean?”
Van shrugged. “There were things you were better off not knowing when it came to work. This would be one of those things.”
“You don’t trust me?” I accused.
“Nothing to do with trust. A lot we do is on a need-to-know basis. In this instance, you don’t need to know.”
Neco gave me a little squeeze and a gentle shove toward the bathroom. I scowled at both of them. I wasn’t buying their bullshit. This powwow they were having was about me, I was sure of it.
I also wasn’t going to let Neco get away with it. Whatever they were talking about, and after the way Neco behaved last tonight, I knew it was big. I was taking off the metaphorical gloves. No more playing by his rules. I was done with that.
As I stormed to the bathroom, Lulu’s words shifted though my head.
I have ways to make him talk.
Maybe I could persuade Neco to spill the beans using not so fair means? I’d feel guilty, but right then I was pissed off. I knew he’d do the same thing if he needed to, and it wasn’t like we both wouldn’t enjoy my methods a whole hell of a lot. I was pretty sure seducing him would be the easy part. Getting him to talk, though, was another thing completely. The man was stubborn as hell. He knew all my tricks, but seduction was a new one. We hadn’t been sleeping together long and couldn’t get enough of each other. I was in a constant state of arousal. I just had to think about his hands on me and a wave of heat washed over me, zaps firing up my nerve endings until I was desperate for him. Considering Neco couldn’t keep his hands off me either, I could only assume he felt the same way.
Maybe that was my angle?
He always took the lead. But Neco made it easy. He just flipped me around where he wanted me, then blew my ever-loving mind until I couldn’t see straight.
Could I do this? Could I turn the tables on him?
Crouching down, I opened the bathroom cabinet and dug around in my toiletry bag. I found what I wanted and stood.
I’d give it a good try.
Time to play dirty.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ruby
I knocked on the last door on Jimmy’s floor, the one next to his place. An unshaven guy in baggy flannel pajama bottoms and a stained wife beater answered the door.
He took me in from head to toe, scratching his protruding belly. “What?”
Delightful. “I wondered if you could help me. I’m looking for someone. A friend of Jimmy’s . . .”
“Jimmy?”
“Your neighbor . . .”
“The dead guy?”
“That would be him.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “The guy I’m looking for may have been staying with him. Blond, stocky, about your height. Have you seen anyone like that?”
“Like I told the other two that came looking for him, I haven’t seen squat.”
“Who came looking for him?”
The guy star
ed at me, lips clamped together. I pulled a ten from my pocket and slapped it into his now outstretched hand.
“A big guy. Looked like a goddamn tank, muscles bulging. Dark hair.”
“Tattoo on his forearm? Script?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
Jude.
“And the other person to come knocking?”
He fake zipped his lips and smirked.
Jesus. I handed him another ten. I would have told him to get lost, but after questioning Jimmy’s neighbors, this guy seemed to be the only one on his floor with any kind of information.
“A woman. She had another guy with her, blond, stocky, like the guy you’re looking for, but I’m guessing a different blond, stocky dude, or she wouldn’t be looking for him, right?”
“Right. What did the woman look like?”
“A bitch.”
I wasn’t sure how someone looked like a bitch. “You got anything a little more specific?”
“Hmm, I guess, middle aged . . . brown eyes, and she had all this blond hair, well, she’d bleached it, and you could see her roots were dark.” He snorted. “Dressed like she was a teenager.” He shook his head. “Not a good look for her.”
Suddenly the guy was a member of the fashion police. “Did you get a name?”
“Nah. They asked after a blond guy then left.”
That didn’t exactly narrow down my search. But at least now I knew we weren’t the only ones looking for Scott. I just needed to figure out who and why? And after the way Neco and Van had shut me down this morning when I walked in on them deep in conversation, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something about this case they were keeping something from me, despite what they said. Neco had promised not to, and I hoped like hell he hadn’t gone back on his word, but I couldn’t rule it out. I couldn’t rule anything out with him when it concerned my safety and his need to protect me.
Like you kept your word? I ignored the guilt that fired through me with that thought. I was currently doing the exact thing I promised Neco I wouldn’t do. I chose not to think about that too deeply and left the building. Walking around the side, I shimmied back up the same fire escape I’d scaled a few days before. Now Jimmy’s body had been removed, I could have a proper look around. I climbed through the window and searched the place from top to bottom. I found nothing. Jude had more than likely been through the apartment as well. If there had been anything to find, he would have taken it.
Shit.
I climbed back down, trying to come up with my next move. First, I needed to know if Neco was keeping anything from me, and I was prepared to extract that information any way I could. Even if that meant pushing myself out of my comfort zone and following Lulu’s lead. Seduction. If he knew something, I was going to find out.
* * *
The beep of the security pad, followed by the door handle rattling, came a second before it swung open.
Nerves lit me up. “Hey,” I called not looking up from my toes, going for casual and distracted and hoping I was pulling it off, and brushed on the second coat of electric blue polish. “I wasn’t expecting you home till later.” A complete lie. He’d texted when he left the agency that he was on his way home.
I’d stripped off, thrown myself on the couch, and tried to master my chilled-out, carefree vibe before he walked through the door.
“You didn’t get my text?”
“Nope.” I grabbed my phone from my bag and made a show of checking my messages. I offered him up a sheepish expression. “Sorry, I didn’t hear it. I must have been in the other room getting the nail polish.” I pointed to my toes.
His boots thudded on the wooden floor, but he didn’t say anything more. In fact, he didn’t seem to be moving at all now. My nerves immediately grew more intense. Stupid, considering how many times we’d had sex already, but then I’d never done anything like this before. Neco was a take-charge kind of guy, in every aspect of his life, no matter the cost to himself. Well, I was in the mood to give back, and if I managed to get some information out of him at the same time, it was a win/win all around, by my way of thinking.
Honestly, I didn’t even know if this would work—he’d been kind of distant the last couple of days. After the episode in his room, freaking out like he had, I’d felt him pull away. I hated it. He still hadn’t told me what had happened, and I was done waiting. We also hadn’t had sex in that time, and that was a hell of a long time when you craved someone’s touch constantly.
He was punishing himself over something, and I refused to let him any longer.
I glanced over my shoulder when he stayed where he was, frozen at the door. “I made pasta and meatballs, it’s in microwave.” Ignoring the hungry way he was looking at me, pale eyes sliding over my bare legs, I turned back to my toes and carried on painting.
Neco wasn’t a fan of the overly made-up, overdressed look. He was simple in his tastes, so I’d left my hair lose, not bothering with my straightener. My shoulder length hair had a wave to it, but I didn’t leave it natural very often. The streak of color down the side was deep purple and just so happened to match the lace thong I had on under my cut-off shorts. To top it off, I’d gone with my favorite white tank. It was thin and worn and I usually wore it to bed, but it suited my purposes for tonight, and definitely didn’t scream seduction, not in an obvious way, anyway. It also barely skimmed my hips, so when I stood, Neco would get a nice eyeful of my ass, which he seemed to have a fondness for.
He moved to the kitchen and hit a few buttons on the microwave, heating up his dinner. “You have a good day at work?”
“I did a bunch more background checks, then took some pics of a guy getting a hand job in his car from his secretary. Harry gets a lot of infidelity cases.” I chose not to mention my visit to Jimmy’s apartment—that would definitely screw up my plans for tonight.
He didn’t reply, so I relaxed back on the couch, and made out like I was admiring my toes. Then, finally, I grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV, stopping on an episode of Treehouse Masters. I felt his eyes on me the whole time, but pretended I was super interested in what I was watching. Usually, I would be, I loved this show. But tonight was about seduction . . . without Neco knowing he was being seduced. Reaching back, I unsnapped my bra and dragged it off under my shirt, flinging it over the back of the couch, sighing in relief. That part wasn’t an act. Best part of the day was freeing the girls. I faked a yawn, then stood and walked to the kitchen, my boobs bouncing as I went, leaned over, and opened the fridge to grab a soda.
I glanced at him over my shoulder—his eyes were locked on my ass then slid to my chest when I straightened. I held my drink up. “You want one?”
He shook his head, and the muscle in his jaw jumped. I fought back a grin and started back toward the living room . . .
“You forgetting something?” he murmured.
I stopped and turned to face him. “Huh?”
His plate was in front of him on the breakfast bar, his fork beside it. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet. “I think you’ve forgotten something, Ruby.”
I tilted my head. “Hmm, I don’t think so.” I widened my eyes. “Oh! Sorry!” I knew exactly what he wanted. Instead, I went back to the fridge and grabbed the Parmesan cheese, handed it to him, and tried to walk away again.
He grabbed my wrist and shook his head, dumping the cheese on the counter. “I wasn’t talking about cheese.” His eyes dropped to my mouth.
Zaps of pleasure shot through my belly.
I smiled bright, fighting the urge to cave and climb him like a beanstalk, and went up on my toes—and pecked his cheek. “Hey,” I whispered.
He smiled, no doubt expecting me to go for his mouth next, but I didn’t, which was not easy, and spun, walking away before he could stop me.
I was determined to pull him out of whatever was bothering him. He still kissed me, hugged me, but nothing more, and I was going to push him until he gave in and jumped my bones and spilled his secrets.
&n
bsp; I slumped back on the couch and groaned. “God, I ate too much pasta. My shorts are cutting me in half.” I reached down, unsnapped them, and shoved them down my legs, flopping back, arms tucked under my head, ankles crossed. The underwear I’d selected were lace, sheer, and hid nothing. I knew the minute he got an eyeful of my surprise when he growled, and the fork he’d finally picked up clattered to the breakfast bar.
“Ruby,” he choked out.
“Hmm?”
His boots thudded against the hardwood floor again as he moved toward me, then he was there, staring down at me, not even trying to pretend he wasn’t looking where he was looking. Exactly where I wanted him to look.
“You shaved?”
I shivered at the rough edge to his voice and shook my head. “Waxed.” Sliding my fingers down the front, I pushed my underwear down, just a little. “See? Can’t get much smoother than that.” I pulled my hand free and propped it back behind my head.
He didn’t move.
“Um . . . Neco?”
“Yeah?” His voice was so deep, it vibrated right through me.
“You’re blocking the TV.”
His eyes lifted to mine—oh yeah, he was affected—then back down. His hand shot out and without a word, he grabbed the remote and flicked off the TV.
“Hey, I was watching that.”
He still didn’t speak, his big hand dropping to my belly, to the exposed strip of skin there, his fingers rough as they coasted across—then down.
One broad finger dipped below the lace, like mine had, and moved back and forth. My breath hitched when he hooked the top and tugged the elastic down so he could get a better look.
He growled, and that finger dipped lower still, then finally slid directly over the plain black heart inked there.
I held my breath.
“When did you get this?”
It was time, and suddenly I didn’t feel quite so confident.
Shoving aside my nerves, I stared up at him, watching him study the small heart. “On my eighteenth birthday.” I took a steadying breath and carried on. “The one under it . . . on my seventeenth.”
His finger didn’t stop sliding gently over my skin, but his eyes lifted to mine. “Under it?”
Broken Rebel: A Lawless Kings Novel Page 17
