Hot in the City

by Jules Court

  “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  He ducked back inside only long enough to tell Priya’s stunned family that his partner would be arriving soon to question them. They’d obviously had one hell of a rug pulled out from under them and were in the shell-shocked phase. He could hardly blame them, he was feeling a little unsteady himself.

  “Priya’s still the same person,” he told them. “Everything you love about her is still there. Don’t forget that.”

  “I do not need a stranger to lecture me on my daughter,” Devi said.

  “Fair enough.”

  Back outside, he then made a quick call to Danny. Mrs. Murphy and the Shahs still needed to be questioned, but it sure as hell shouldn’t be him. He’d royally fucked things up by not taking control of the situation from the outset. He’d let Priya suck him into family drama when he should have been professional. And the worst part about it was that all he could think about right now was her, not salvaging this botched investigation.

  He rushed through an abridged version of events for Danny. He needed to check on Priya ASAP. She was too still.

  Danny’s reaction to his story was a, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What’s the paperwork I need to file to get a new partner? One whose head doesn’t reside up his ass.”

  He’d make it up to Danny by finding Sara and getting her to ID their bad guy. He turned toward his car, but Priya sat folded in on herself. There was no way he could leave her now. Not when she needed him.

  He sank down on his heels before her. Some things were more important than his career.

  Chapter Nine

  It was finally out. Priya had spit the words from her mouth like poisonous bile and now nothing would ever be the same. But for this moment, sitting in the evening heat on the front stoop, her family inside reeling from what she’d dropped on them, she only felt empty. Maybe it was the shock speaking—she was in shock, wasn’t she? she had to be—but it was as if the poison had scrubbed her insides raw. When she looked down at her hands, she was surprised to see them shaking. She placed them firmly on her knees.

  Brian loomed over her, silhouetted by the setting sun. He was talking quickly on his phone, probably to his partner, but his words were only noise washing over her. She couldn’t register any meaning. It wasn’t until he gently touched her face that she realized he’d ended his phone call and had been talking to her.

  “C’mon. I’ll drive you home,” he said.

  His voice was like a lifeline reaching down into the vast hollow pit into which she’d descended. She shook her head. “Sara is still out there,” she said.

  “And we’ll find her,” he said. “But not tonight.”

  His hand came into her field of vision. Pale skin, long fingers, broad palm—a strong hand. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll set your car on fire?” she asked.

  “It’s a crappy 4-cylinder, dismal gray slug. I’ll hand you the match. Now let’s go. My partner’s on his way over and he’s not too happy with me. I’d like to avoid the lecture. Although maybe you can set him on fire.”

  “That’s not funny,” she said, pulling the corners of her mouth back down.

  “Let’s go, Firestarter.”

  She put her hand in his and let him haul her up. “I’m not going to answer to that,” she said. “What if I came up with terrible nicknames for you?”

  “So many places to start,” he said. “You could go for the obvious—my profession. There’s the classic Pig, or Bacon. But if you want to get a little more personal, my hair makes a good target. Firecrotch, Gingersnap—”

  “I think I’d be a little more creative.”

  He shook his head sadly and gave an exaggerated sigh. “No one ever is,” he said.

  How could he still tease her? Try to make her feel better? “You now know I’m crazy. And a terrible person. A crazy, terrible person.”

  He’d parked right in front of her aunt’s house. It took but two steps and he was holding his car’s passenger door open. He waved her forward.

  She paused, rooted to the sidewalk. Going with him, taking the comfort he offered—it was nothing but selfish desire. Look at where that had gotten her. She tried to move, to turn around and walk back into her aunt’s house, to face her family and what she’d done to them. But still her feet remained where they were.

  “Maybe you should let them process everything,” Brian said gently. “That was a pretty big bomb you dropped.”

  Somehow she managed to move forward. He closed the car door gently behind her. Automatically she reached up to pull down the seatbelt. It made a decisive click when she fastened it.

  Brian settled into the driver’s seat, but he didn’t start the car. “You seem like the same person you were before I knew you screwed up as a teenager,” he said. “A person who made it through college and medical school and is, if my lack of scarring is any indication, seriously kicking ass in her residency. I can also tell how much Sara means to you. You don’t even want to know some of the shit I pulled when I was seventeen.”

  “Like what?” What could he have possibly done that compared to her misdeeds?

  “I got in fights. A lot of fights. That’s actually why I became a cop.”

  “So you could beat people up legally?”

  “Not exactly. After I got suspended for the thirty millionth time, my dad reached out to our local community police officer and he took me on a ride-along. Officer Frank DiMarco. Big burly guy with a gut and a huge mustache. I was all angst and eye-rolls about the whole thing, pretending not to care. But he told me there was a better way. That he knew I fought because I was trying to protect other people because I couldn’t stand bullies. But he knew I also got a rush from fighting. And he told me that if I learned to control myself, I could use those instincts to help the people around me. I had to be smart. He made me feel that being a cop was the closest thing you’d ever get to being a knight.”

  “Knights weren’t all they were cracked up to be. All that chivalry and honor only applied to the wealthy. They protected the interests of the ruling classes.”

  “Yep. Just like being a cop. That’s sarcasm.”

  “Not if you have to tell the other person it is.”

  He put his hand on the key but didn’t turn the ignition. Silence fell between them. Her thoughts spiraled back down again.

  He broke the silence. “Talk to me, Goose. Doesn’t have to be about Sara. Tell me about being a doctor. Why did you choose emergency room medicine? You like the rush?”

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  “You’re going to get crazy if you get all wrapped up in your own head.”

  “Too late,” she said. She’d been denying her crazy for so long. But it was inside her clawing to get out. It was the part of her that wanted to climb over the gearshift and straddle his body, rip his T-shirt open, press herself against his bare skin and once again feel his hardness against her body. To go up in flames with him. To feel something other than this void expanding within her.

  Brian went silent. Probably regretting becoming entwined with her. She was about to tell him that he didn’t need to take her home, she’d just hop on the T, when he spoke. “What do you want?” he asked. His voice was serious, and when he turned to look at her, his gaze seemed to demand honesty.

  “I just want to be here. Now.” Because outside of this moment lay the past she regretted and an uncertain future. Right now was the hot night and the man who made her want to believe that for just once she didn’t have to be so alone. She wanted him with a ferocity that would have frightened her if she had been at all rational. But she wasn’t. The heat raced through her body, burning her from the inside out.

  She moved quicker than thought, straddling him.

  He opened his mouth and she could see the question forming but captured it w
ith her own mouth. His lips were soft but firm. After his momentary shock, he was kissing her back. It was explosive. His tongue was in her mouth, his hands in her hair. She nipped his lip. He kissed her harder.

  She pulled back. “Take me home,” she said. Take me home so I can lose myself in you.

  “This is a bad idea,” he said. “You’re part of my investigation. And you’re in a bad place. I can’t take advantage.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

  She leaned forward and grazed his earlobe with her teeth.

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. His eyes snapped open. “You’re playing with fire.” His voice was low and dangerous.

  “Not the first time.” This time she wanted to burn.

  He looked away and clenched his fists, seemingly waging an internal battle. When he turned back to meet her eyes, there was steel in his gaze. “Climb back into your own seat,” he said. “And take off your panties. Do it.”

  She slid off him. She edged her skirt up, but stopped, shyness reasserted itself. What was she doing?

  “Keep going,” he said. “The sooner you follow orders, the sooner I start this car, and the sooner we get to my place. And the sooner I get into you. Now lose ‘em.”

  She slid her panties off.

  “Touch yourself,” he said. “I need you to be ready for me. Our first time is going to be fast.”

  “But—”

  “You want to and God knows I want you to.”

  She was no stranger to her own body and used to taking care of her own needs. There was nothing shameful about masturbation. In fact, it was healthy and normal, but that didn’t mean she’d ever done it with someone watching.

  Desire battled with shame. Desire won. When she parted her folds and touched herself, she was already wet and ready. His smile at her compliance shouldn’t give her a thrill of pleasure.

  He turned the key and the engine roared to life. “Do you think you can make yourself come before I get us home?”

  “I can try,” she said.

  * * *

  From the first time he’d seen her, while bleeding from a stab wound and whacked out on pain meds, he’d wanted her. But she wasn’t the perfect angel he imaged her to be. She was a prickly, challenging hellcat. Good thing he thrived on adversity. Common sense told him to pump his brakes. What kind of a woman set her boyfriend’s car on fire? That was crazy ex-girlfriend territory.

  But the thing was, he was nuts, too. His gut was whispering to him that she’d locked herself away for far too long. He wasn’t arrogant enough to believe he could free her, but he was fool enough to try.

  Again his rational brain whispered that what he was doing was wrong and she’d probably hate him in the morning. God knew Danny would.

  She hitched her skirt up. One slim brown hand reached between her legs. All thoughts of Danny, his career, the investigation, and basic morality fled.

  He floored the gas pedal. “Are you wet?” His voice sounded harsh to his own ears.

  She nodded.

  “Say it,” he ordered.

  She bit her lip. He didn’t have to see her blush he could feel it. “I’m wet,” she whispered.

  He pulled his eyes back onto the road. He swerved into the left lane in order to pass a truck just ambling along down the road. Just a few more miles and he’d be home. A few more miles and he’d be sliding into her.

  “Put a finger inside yourself. Pretend that it’s mine.”

  He forced himself to pay attention to the traffic. The gasp she made wasn’t helping. His cock strained against his fly. Soon.

  “Add another finger,” he said. She needed to be ready because he wasn’t going to be bringing any finesse or technique to their first time. Just raw animal passion. He’d make it up to her with round two.

  By the time he pulled the car up in front of his apartment, she was making little breathy noises in the back of her throat. He slammed the car into park and cut the engine. Her hand was moving quicker and quicker. She was almost there. Her head was tilted back against the headrest and her eyes were closed.

  He did what he’d been dreaming of doing since the first time he saw her. He touched her. He placed his hand over hers and her eyes flew open.

  “My turn,” he said.

  Her clit was engorged and slippery. When he touched it she let out a moan. He rolled and teased it, delighting in the sounds she made. “Are you going to come?”

  “Not out here.”

  “Yes, out here.” He slid a finger inside her. She was hot and tight.

  His cock strained against the zipper of his jeans and he clenched his jaw against the almost overwhelming need to free himself and thrust into her. He added another finger, sliding it in, stretching her. He moved them in and out, quicker, harder. Her hips rose to meet them.

  He added his thumb, brushing it over her clit in time with his fingers.

  Her limbs tensed and he knew she was close. But she was fighting it. Even now, she couldn’t give up control.

  “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut harder. One hand rose to claw at his shoulder.

  But he needed her to look at him. He needed her to see him. “Please.”

  It was the right thing to say. Her lids flickered open and she met his eyes. He wanted to drown in the dark depths he found there.

  “Brian?” Her voice was a question and a plea.

  He kissed her, managing to keep his rhythm going. His fingers working in and out. His thumb flicking, caressing.

  Finally, she let go with a full body shudder. Her thighs clamped down on his hand and then relaxed.

  “Fuck,” she said.

  “We’re about to,” he answered.

  Chapter Ten

  Priya sank into the passenger seat, feeling as limbless and light as a jellyfish. Her brain had no room for shame or guilt, just lingering pleasure. But Brian had other ideas.

  Quick as a flash he was out of the car. He sprang around to her side, opened the door and reached in. Before she knew it, she was slung over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I warned you the first time was going to be fast.” He smacked her lightly on the butt.

  And impossible as it seemed after such a satisfying orgasm, desire flared to life within her again.

  He didn’t let her down until they were inside his apartment. With one foot he kicked the door shut behind them. “Bed now.”

  She bounced down on his bed and he took a quick detour to his bathroom, reemerging holding a foil wrapper.

  “Take off your dress,” he commanded.

  “Take off your pants,” she countered. But she couldn’t sit still. She jumped up and met him halfway across the room.

  They connected in a scorching kiss. Their tongues danced. She broke off the kiss to grab the hem of his T-shirt and pull upward. He obligingly lifted his arms. As his shirt rose, she couldn’t help but map the path of exposed skin with her mouth, dotting it with kisses. When she hit the scar that snaked across his ribs, she traced it with a fingertip. Just a few inches up and to the left and the outcome could have been so much different. She yanked the shirt over his head with more force than she’d intended.

  He unbuckled his belt and in one move shoved his jeans and boxers to the floor and stepped free. He picked up her up around the waist and dropped her on the bed. She pulled her dress over her head to the sounds of him tearing open the condom wrapper. She held out her arms and he covered her, pressing her body into the bed.

  One of his hands reached between her legs and his fingers teased between her folds. She pressed up against him, eager and ready.

  And then he was easing inside her. She moaned from the exquisite stretch, and thrust upward to drive him deeper. The almost painful fullness made her ga
sp and clench her fingers on his shoulders. It had been so long since she’d done this.

  He pulled back. “Okay?”

  “Don’t you dare stop.” She wrapped her legs around his lean hips to spur him on.

  And then he moved, driving into her again and again. His skin was slick against her grasping fingers, his breath hot against her ear. She met each thrust. Still joined, he rolled her over so she sat atop. She anchored one hand on his chest and arched her back.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” he said in a hoarse voice as he reached up to cup her breasts.

  His hands were so gentle on her skin and his cock was so hard inside her. She moved. And moved, forcing them both relentlessly toward orgasm. This time when it came, she didn’t fight it. She let the warmth rush through her. Her vagina spasmed, clamping around his cock. It was all he needed. Moments later he let out a groan and shuddered against her.

  They collapsed together. She wrapped her arms around his back, tracing the ridge of his spine, and listened to the drumming of his heartbeat.

  Brian pulled away and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” he said. “We’re just getting started.”

  It wasn’t possible, but his words sparked a throbbing between her legs. Her body reacted as though she hadn’t just experienced two mind-blowing orgasms. So this was what being ravished was like. Ravished by a highlander. She could almost see the book cover now. He’d look fantastic bare-chested wearing only a kilt.

  “Do you own a kilt?” she asked.

  “Why are you thinking about clothes now?”

  “You’re Scottish, right?”

  “Doesn’t mean I have a kilt. I also don’t play the bagpipes or eat haggis,” he said. He teasingly flicked one of her nipples.

  “Can you say, ‘don’t fash yerself, lassie’?” she said. He nibbled at the side of her neck and she moaned as tingles raced down her body.

  He pulled back. “What does that even mean?” he asked.

  “Never mind,” she said, but it came out as a strangled moan because he’d taken one of her nipples in his mouth and tugged gently.