Busting In (Busted Series Book 1)

by Vanessa M. Knight

  There was no way he was gay. Although he was pretty. His hand slid up and down her leg. Nah. Totally straight. Or at the very least, bi.

  He sighed and removed his hand from her calf. “There’s a good chance I’m leaving in a month and a half.”

  Leaving. That wasn’t what she thought he’d say. Which was good, considering where her mind was going. But this wasn’t a whole lot better. And she could admit it was making her a little sad. “Where?”

  “I might be going to New York to help with a case. I could be gone for a few weeks or months or maybe longer.”

  Weeks. Months. That was an awfully long time. It was a ridiculous amount of time if they were thinking of starting a relationship. Was that what this was? A relationship? They’d gone out on one date. It was a mother of a date and she was still on it, but it wasn’t like they were getting married or moving in together—heck, they hadn’t even shared a meal together. Or had sex.

  Enzo kept his eyes on the blanket. “I just didn’t want to start anything without you knowing.”

  He was so sweet. And honest. Did it matter if he’d be gone soon? She couldn’t really make any decisions until they’d had that meal or at least sex. It could be as awful as a teenager fumbling with their first bra. Or maybe it would rock her world. But she’d never know until they tried. Right?

  She found his hand and slid her fingers through his. “Well, good to know.” She hoped her smile was enough to show she was on board. One night. A few weeks. She was willing to find out.

  He smiled and his other hand moved back to her legs. “Are you still cold?”

  “No.” She folded down the blanket between his hand and the bare skin of her thigh. “I’m a bit warm.”

  His fingers slid along the edge of her mini-skirt. Back and forth. She wanted that hand higher. Those fingers sliding under the mini-skirt. She arched closer, trying to give him a hint.

  He laughed. A deep, breathy laugh. She wanted to hear that sound again. “You seem excited.” His hand lingered as she performed Kegels, lifting her hips toward him trying to get his attention.

  “I think what you’re seeing is frustration.” She reached across to his shirt and unbuttoned the top button. Then the next one, working her way down until nothing but gorgeous permanently-tanned skin was showing. She ran her hand over the hard planes of his chest. The strong muscles tensed. His body leaned in. He was not helping the whole frustration issue.

  “Already? Well, we can’t have that.” He moved her legs from his lap and leaned toward her. His thumb swept across her cheek. His mouth hovered over hers. “I have wanted to do this all night.”

  And then his lips met hers. Strong lips that slid effortlessly over hers. His touch. His taste. Her thoughts scattered. Her body throbbed. Everything about this man set her on fire.

  His hips pushed into hers. She was no longer cold. Not one bit. She was wearing too much clothing. He was wearing too much clothing.

  “I want to feel you.” She ground her hips up, each thrust bringing pleasure and pain and promise. She wanted more. She needed more.

  He pulled away and stood up. He was gone. His hips. His mouth. She was feeling the cold again and so much frustration she swore she was turning blue—and it wasn’t just her balls.

  “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.” He offered his hand with a wicked grin. “Come to bed with me.”

  She slid her hand in his and let him help her from the couch. She should feel scared or bad or something. Enzo might be going away, and given how deft those fingers were, she was going to end up horny and lonely.

  But she wasn’t scared. She didn’t care. She wanted him—for as long as she could have him. She kept his hand in hers as she followed him down the hall.

  Everything about this moment felt like home. Felt right.

  Nothing could spoil it tonight. She’d worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

  Six

  Jessi woke up the next morning to an empty bed. Which wasn’t unusual. But she wasn’t in her bed. Shit. She sat up and looked around the room.

  It was hard to tell with the shades drawn and the lights off, but she could just make out dark furniture. Modern. Clean lines. The floor was bare except for the clothes she’d worn last night.

  Enzo’s place.

  She’d never left. Her mother would be freaking out. She needed to find her phone, preferably before her mom sent Maggie to look for a missing person.

  She eyed the empty side of the bed. This was Enzo’s house, but there was no Enzo. The clock said eight. He was up awfully early for a Saturday.

  She found his dress shirt from last night and shrugged into it, buttoning up past her chest. She needed a bathroom, and to find the man who’d given her three orgasms last night.

  The bathroom was easy to find. Now for Enzo. Opening the door, she heard clinking coming from the other side of the house. Following the noises, Jessi walked down the hall and through the living room. The light sliced through the blinds and haloed over the furniture. It really was a nice place.

  Enzo stood next to the island, plates and silverware laid out on the side with stools. He set a mug of coffee next to one of the plates. “I hope you like pancakes.”

  “Who doesn’t like pancakes?” In the daylight, she got a better look at the kitchen. Soft hickory cabinets lined the walls. Stainless steel appliances accented the clean lines and simplicity of the room. Even the toaster was stainless steel. She sensed a theme. Jessi pulled a stool out and sat across from the man who was making her pancakes. “This is amazing. I would have been happy with a plate of toast.”

  And she would have been. Some toast…and Enzo in cotton boxers and a T-shirt sounded like the perfect breakfast. Well, maybe if he took off the T-shirt…and maybe the boxers.

  “Toaster is broken. This is better.” He flipped two pancakes from the griddle in the center of his stove onto a plate. And then added two more. He slid the plate across the island and walked around to her side.

  “Good morning.” He leaned in and rested his lips on hers. Definitely a good morning. He pulled away and walked across the room to a small pantry. “Did you sleep okay?” Enzo took out a small jug of maple syrup. Real honest-to-goodness maple syrup, not corn syrup with flavoring and caramel color.

  “Yeah.” The bed was ridiculously comfortable and the man in the bed wasn’t too shabby himself.

  She drizzled her pancakes with syrup and cut into the short stack. Bringing a bite to her lips, she moaned. The pancakes were amazing. Pancakes after the night they’d had? Heavenly. She needed to keep up her energy if they were going to do some more of the orgasm-cardio.

  And she was really hoping they’d do some more of that.

  “I figured after the night we had, we needed carb load.” He hooked his cup of coffee and sat on the stool next to Jessi.

  They ate in uncomplicated silence. It was nice. No pressure. It wasn’t normal for her at all. Normally, she’d be fighting to find words or the guy would be stammering over the talk of shame—or worse, she’d be running out the door trying to get away from just the shame of what she’d done.

  When she finished her coffee, Enzo immediately took the cup over to the coffee machine and filled it. Added a splash of cream and two spoons of sugar. He’d remembered. It had only been last night, but it felt good to have him pay attention. Even if it was a little thing. He handed her the mug. “Here.”

  “Thank you for this—and for last night. I had a really great time.”

  “Last night?”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t conventional, but it is a story.” She watched him sit on his stool and stare at his plate. “Everything okay?”

  He looked up at her with something akin to regret in his eyes.

  Shit.

  She didn’t want to be his regret. She’d wanted to do the whole sex thing again. With him. Her appetite dried up as her stomach twisted in a knot. He was a good guy. At least he made her breakfast before he ran her off. There was something decent a
bout that. Not that she was going to stick around long enough to be run off.

  “I should go.” She took a final sip of the perfectly made coffee and stood up. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “Do you have to go?” He pushed his stool back, looking disappointed.

  She was completely confused. Didn’t he want her to go? “It’s probably a good idea.”

  “I’m sorry.” He dropped his head.

  “For what?” It wasn’t his fault he didn’t feel the same about her as she felt about him. It hurt. But it was one night. She’d get over it. She always did.

  Although this one might take some chocolate cake and a few tears. He looked so gorgeous and so miserable and he was sorry about last night. He actually said the words. He was a nice guy dammit. It might take more than a few tears.

  “I’m sorry about last night. I really didn’t think it would go so bad.” Wait. What? He pushed away from the counter and stood. “I understand if you want to go, but despite everything I had a really good time. Could we maybe try this again, without the guns?”

  Oh. That. The guns. Three orgasms could make a girl forget lots of things, apparently. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” He smiled. There was no regret now in the sparkle of his eyes.

  He wanted to see her again. She wanted to do an internal happy dance. But she didn’t dance, ever, not even internally. It looked like something out of a nineties sitcom when she tried.

  “I’ll drive you home,” Enzo said.

  She hadn’t thought of that. She didn’t have a car here.

  “I just wish it hadn’t been a total loss.” He dumped the rest of his coffee in the sink.

  “Total loss?”

  He leaned back against the sink and shook his head. “I put you in danger for no reason. I didn’t get anything for my client. He’s going to jail for something he didn’t do.”

  That sucked. They’d been so close to getting the information… “Wait.”

  She walked to the front door and pulled her jacket off the coat rack. Sliding her hand into the huge pocket in the lining, she yanked out the folded documents. While Gigantor had been busy harassing Enzo, she’d pocketed these. It was too bad she couldn’t have grabbed his pages, too. Crossing the room, she held them out to Enzo. “Will these help?”

  “How did you…?” He took the papers and flipped through them. “This is amazing.”

  “I shoved them in my pocket before he could take them away.” She looked over his shoulder, trying to make sense of the names and numbers scrawled up and down each page. She hoped they’d give him some sort of information and that this wouldn’t be missed by the mayor and his Gigantor friends. “Does it tell you what you need to know?”

  He looked over each page, and his smile grew. “Oh yeah, this should work.” He laid the pages to the side, away from their dishes.

  He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Deep penetrating kisses that made her toes curl. One hand held her while the other roamed her back and stopped at her ass. How her legs stayed on the floor, she had no idea. She wanted to cling to him like a koala.

  They stayed like that for hours or maybe it was minutes. She lost track of time.

  He pulled away, his breath heaving in and out. Yeah, she could understand that. She felt a smile tip up her lips. “A simple thank you would have sufficed.”

  “Oh, no. That wasn’t your thank you.” He ran a thumb along the side of her face, pushing loose hairs behind her ear. His pelvis was still stuck to hers. She wasn’t complaining, she wanted more. Closer. Perhaps with less clothing. “Do you really need to leave?”

  She couldn’t think of one reason to leave. She needed to call her mom, but maybe a text would do. “I have to send a quick text, but I can stay if you want me to.”

  “I want you to.” His voice was low and gravelly and so filled with promise. Those deep vibrations would flutter through her if she just stuck around to let them.

  “Okay.” His hands were still on her body and now they were roaming again. The roaming was nice. “Go text, and then come to the bedroom so I can truly show my appreciation.”

  A thrill zipped up her spine as he kissed her cheek. It wasn’t sexual. Just sweet. She watched him walk back through the hall. She could really like this guy. And the thought didn’t scare her, even though he might be in New York soon. She’d ride this thing as far as it would go.

  It felt good. She reached in her coat pocket and grabbed her phone. She just had to text her mom that she wasn’t in a ditch somewhere.

  Then she’d be free all day. Free to get thanked again and again.

  Later that afternoon—or maybe it was evening?—Enzo looked out the blinds in his room. Evening it was. He’d spent the whole afternoon with Jessi. In the bed. In the shower. Against the wall. They’d napped. They’d nibbled on each other and Doritos—not at the same time. It was officially the best Saturday he’d ever had.

  Jessi was in the bathroom, “putting herself together” before dinner. He’d dressed and was just waiting. Waiting was code for wondering what was she currently doing to that body. He could picture her rubbing lotion along her skin—up and down those thighs. They were some gorgeous thighs. And just the thought made him want to bang on the door and offer to help.

  Of course, that wouldn’t get them to their dinner reservations any faster. And she’d told him she was hungry. He wasn’t going to let her starve. Not on his watch.

  He went into the living room and turned on the light. He had the perfect thing to keep his mind out of that bathroom.

  The pages from the mayor’s desk were exactly what he needed. The writing was small, so there were at least forty names per side. His eyes slid along the names. The opposition’s witness was on the first page four times. And the dollar amounts totaled over a half a million.

  Why on earth did their witness give the mayor more than a half million dollars from August to October of last year? Seemed to be a lot of money. And the fact that the witness just beat out Enzo’s client for a large city contract couldn’t have anything to do with this substantial donation—who was he trying to kid? It had everything to do with the donation. Chicago wasn’t known as a pay-to-play city for nothing.

  If a company didn’t pay, then their company wouldn’t play the contract game. And this witness had played. Now all Enzo had to do was get this to his boss. They couldn’t use it at trial, but they could use it convince the witness to tell the truth.

  Too bad this was all just speculation at this point, or he’d skip quietly discrediting this witness and he’d take his ass down. Maybe that was still an option. This had to be the tip of the bribe-heap. He’d have to ask his boss. He could use this information to take down the corrupt system—with his boss’s approval.

  Enzo gathered the pages and went down the hall to his home office. After waking the printer, he made copies of all the pages. Then he grabbed a highlighter from his briefcase and sat at his desk. He ran the yellow along the first mention of the witness. He continued down the page, reading and highlighting.

  Next page. Reading and highlighting. Another three payments.

  Next page. Reading and… He stared at the name, highlighter in hand.

  Not just any name.

  His boss.

  Stanley Welford, one of the partners at the firm where he worked. It couldn’t be. But it was. His name was on the list. His boss wasn’t like that. Was he? He was a Big Brother. He donated to charities and put volunteering into every one of his employees goals at the firm. He wasn’t shady.

  Well, there was this information he had Enzo get from the mayor… but that was different. This was to save an innocent man.

  His phone beeped with an incoming text. Welford’s executive assistant. Obviously she didn’t get weekends off. Not that anyone really did at the firm. They worked hard so they could play hard. At least that was Mr. Welford’s motto.

  Status needed on the Johnson case.

  Status on the Johnson case? Looking pre
tty good. But something kept him from sharing the information from the list in his hand. Not just something. That name. His boss’s name.

  Do you have the information needed?

  He didn’t want to say yes. Not yet. Not until he knew exactly what he had. But without this, the case wasn’t looking pretty good at all.

  Yes he typed. Hit send.

  Send to Welford’s phone ASAP.

  Enzo tried not to read too much into that last text as he scanned the pages into his computer, but it was almost impossible. Welford was friends with the client, so of course he’d want the information quickly. It had nothing to do with Welford’s name—or his doppelganger’s name—on the sheet.

  Once he was done, he emailed both sides of the two pages to his boss.

  Sent to his email, he texted.

  Thanks.

  “Ahem.” Jessi must have sneaked in behind him while his mind was focused on the pages.

  “Are you ready? Or did you need to work?” She was wearing the dress from last night—the skirt that showed just enough skin to make him hot. Instead of the leather jacket, she wore one of Enzo’s button down shirts, with a belt cinched around her slim waist. She looked absolutely amazing. She definitely wore his clothes better than he did.

  She also didn’t wear any clothes better than he did, but that line of thinking would not get them out the door and to the restaurant on time.

  “Work is done.” If he wasn’t done, he’d move heaven and earth to be done. “Let’s go.”

  He led her through the house and to the front door. He was looking forward to showing her off on the Magnificent Mile and then getting her home so he could keep her to himself.

  He’d worry about Welford later. Because if he thought about the ramifications of his name being on that list, he’d have to question his job—his career. And he wasn’t ready to do that just yet.

  Seven

  Jessi sat on a white leather chair at Spiaggia on the Magnificent Mile. Swirled brown and black stone columns jutted up between huge floor to ceiling windows. From far overhead, soft light streamed through circular white lampshades, lending a warm glow to the white walls and mahogany wainscoting.