by Lily Harlem
Was I selfish?
“Hey, you. Dime for your thoughts.” Jose walked into the bathroom.
I smiled. “I could say the same to you.”
His brow creased slightly.
“Will you join me? It’s a big tub.”
“How can I refuse?” He popped the button on his shorts and kicked them aside. His cock was erect again, though not fully, not as bloated as it had been earlier.
I shoved my hand into the water, deemed it to be just right and switched off the faucet.
Jose supported my elbow as I stepped in.
“Oh, hot,” I gasped.
“Mmm, just like you.” He got in behind me, urged me down so I sat between his legs.
The heat spread through me, making my skin tingle and moisture settle on my hairline.
“Relax,” he said, pulling my back against his chest.
I did as he’d asked and his cock poked at the small of my back. I sighed and hoped very much that I’d get another chance to become acquainted with his dick later. The way he’d rocked his hips…damn, no woman could be immune to that, it was a guaranteed-orgasm move. But first things first, and before this thing—whatever it was between the three of us—went any further, I needed some answers.
“Jose,” I said, resting my hand over his forearm, which sat beneath my breasts.
“Yes, baby?” he asked against my ear, his breath hot and tickly.
“You need to start talking to me.”
“I talk to you plenty.” He tweaked my nipple between his thumb and index finger.
“You know what I mean.” I took his hand, moved it from my breast. I couldn’t cope with the exquisite distraction his touch created. Not when I had things to say. “I need you to tell me about her.”
Instantly I was aware of him stiffening; his chest muscles pressing into my shoulder blades tensed and his biceps, around me, flexed. “What makes you think there is a her?”
I took a deep breath. “You said, earlier, in the living room that you hadn’t since her. And then with what you hinted at on the boat, about turning back time.” I swallowed tightly. “I just want to help, Jose, help you with whatever is going on in that head of yours.”
“I don’t want your help.”
His voice was so distant and hard that I turned to face him, not caring that my movements sloshed water over the side of the tub. “Maybe you don’t want it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”
A horizontal line appeared between his eyebrows. “And you think you can give it to me. Help, that is.”
“Yes.” I set my lips into a tight line. “Not only that, I think you owe it to yourself, me and Dillon to be open about whatever the fuck is going on with you.”
“Dillon knows everything, he was there.”
Of course he was.
I nodded slowly. “So you admit there is something?” I gentled my tone. “There was someone.”
He flicked his gaze to the shower cubicle, a plastic avocado-green affair that had orange tiles around it.
“Jose,” I whispered, touching his jawline and creating a trickle of drips down his neck and chest. “Please.”
“Her name was Nadine,” he said quietly. “She was funny and clever and one hell of a damn fine cop.”
Something told me not to say a word. Jose had a faraway look in his eyes again, the haunted expression that clouded their depths and made me feel like a dagger was stabbing my heart. I hated to see him in pain like this, it made me want to lift it all up, make it go away.
“I loved her with all my heart,” he said. “And she loved me. Then I fucked up.”
“What happened?” I whispered.
He turned to look at me, his frown softening. “We shared her, Dillon and I, a bit like now, with you. Nadine was ours and we belonged to her.”
I nodded slowly and tried to bite down a shard of jealously. Of course I’d known I wasn’t the first fantastically lucky female to be enjoying the dual attentions of these hot cops, but still, it was hard to hear it said aloud.
“Four years ago.” He shook his head and pulled in a deep breath. “We were tracking a drug dealer, big-time guy, who was spreading meth onto the streets of Miami in great big waves. Out of control, and not only that, some of the stuff was damn lethal. The crackhead deaths were doubling on a monthly basis. We had to get him.”
“And Nadine was on your team?”
“She was undercover. We argued over it, all three of us. Dillon hadn’t wanted her to do it, get close to Richie Lockwood’s wife and all, but she’d insisted, and so did I. It was her job and she was the most experienced woman in the DEA for that sort of crap. I had faith in her competence and some goddamn stupid belief that we would get our happy ever after. The three of us, together, forever.”
“Happy ever afters do happen,” I said, thinking of the title of my last number one hit, You’re My Happy Ever After.
The comment clearly went over Jose’s head and he carried on speaking. “It had gone on for months but we were coming to the end of the assignment, we’d closed in. Nadine was in Richie’s house, with his wife Lolita and their kids. She’d sent word that Richie was going to be holding a meeting with some of his high-end cronies, and not only that, new products would be there for testing. It was like being handed our dreams on a plate. The bad guys, the evidence, the dealers, all in one place.” He paused. His jaw tensed, a small muscle jumped in his cheek and he nibbled at his bottom lip. “Let’s just say the shit hit the fan.”
“Why, what happened?” I pressed my hand over the tattoo on his chest, felt his rapid heartbeat on my palm.
“She was killed. Nadine, that is. Richie, the motherfucking son of a bitch, realized that she was a grass and by the time we’d stormed in she was already dead. Propped in a swing seat on the front porch, her eyes and tongue removed and set on the table beside her.” A choked sob caught his last word and he shook his head, looked down at the still water. “They’d been taken out while she was still alive, so the autopsy and forensics said.”
A wave of horror washed through me. “That’s so awful,” I whispered, my eyes filling at the thought of this brave policewoman giving her life in the line of duty and having such a gruesome end to it. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too, but not as sorry as Lockwood was when Dillon shot him through the neck thirty minutes later. Not enough to kill him, not straight away, just enough to make him know he was on his last few minutes of life and was aware enough to see his blood staining the cream Angora carpet he’d fallen onto.”
“And you?”
“I checked the other four bodies—Dillon had taken them all out before I’d fired a shot—made sure they were dead, then I went over and removed Lockwood’s tongue and his eyes.” He pulled his mouth downwards and frowned. “I can still hear his screams, sometimes, in the dead of night. It’d felt good at the time, when I was buzzed up on fury, on rage, but…”
I pressed my fingers to my left temple. Tried to rid the horrific images from my mind. “But what?”
“But now I know how Nadine must have screamed when he’d done that to her.” He looked at me, his eyes moist. “It was the most stupid thing I’ve ever done but also the most gratifying.”
“I can understand that.”
“Can you? Can you really?” His set his mouth into a tight line.
“Yes, you got your revenge instantly, but at the same time what you did was horrific.” I lifted his right hand from the water. Stared at it. This hand that made me feel so good had done such a terrible thing to another human being. “You must feel it made you as bad as Lockwood.”
He was silent, for a long time. “Yes. I’d stooped to his level. Dillon had behaved professionally, sort of—he just said he shot and missed—but what I’d done… There was no damn excuse for it. I had to hand in my badge for a while.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“But the captain kept it under wraps.” He looked at me earnestly. “So you won’t say anything, wil
l you?”
“No, of course not, absolutely not.”
His shoulders relaxed a little. “The captain had lost his daughter to meth the year before. We had no doubt the poisoned batch that got her was from Lockwood’s supply, so as our superior and a father still grieving the loss of his only child at the hands of this monster, he was happy to sweep it under the carpet.”
“And Dillon?”
“Dillon stood by me, like he always has.” Jose shook his head. “He’s a machine sometimes, that man. He killed five people that day and didn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it.”
“They were all bad guys, though, weren’t they?”
“Yep, every single one of them scum of the Earth.”
I gave a tight little shrug. “So the world is better off without them.”
“Without a doubt.” He smiled sadly. “Though, of course, Dillon lost sleep over Nadine’s death. He’d loved her too.”
I tried to imagine big, tough Dillon cut up with grief. I couldn’t, he always seemed so in control of everything, even his emotions. “But he coped, with the loss.”
“Yes, she was dead, he grieved and then moved on. But me, I just couldn’t. It stayed with me. Not just the grief but the sense of responsibility. It was my fault.”
I was shocked. “How could it be your fault? You didn’t kill her?’
“But don’t you see, I’d supported her decision to go into the home of a known killer, a drug baron who had a reputation for having no mercy. For being evil and ruthless and killing on a whisper of doubt about a person’s honesty.”
“She was doing her job,” I said quietly.
He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know the logical stuff, she was doing her job, she knew the risks, but I can’t cope with what her death must have been like and what I did to Dillon by not stopping her from going in the first place.” He tipped his head back and shut his eyes. “I’d promised Dillon she would be okay.”
“We’ve all made promises we couldn’t keep, and you said it yourself, Dillon coped, moved on.”
He sighed, looked at me. “Yeah, he has, and just maybe…” He tucked my hair behind my ears, cupped my face and sent a trickle of water down my neck and breasts. “Maybe, with you, I can move on too.” He frowned. “I’m not saying I will ever forget Nadine—”
“I wouldn’t want you to.”
He half smiled, sadly. “But together, me and you and Dillon. Perhaps some new memories are waiting to be made.”
“I hope so.” I shivered slightly; the water was cooling.
“Shall we get out?” he asked, releasing my face and splashing water over himself.
“Yes.” I reached for a bar of soap, gave myself a quick wash then handed it to him.
“I hate to burden you with my troubles,” he said with a shrug.
“Hey.” I caught his chin. “Remember what I said on the boat. I care about you, Jose, which means your troubles are my troubles.” I smiled. “And now I know what you’re up against, maybe I can help.” I kissed him, deeply, and felt his stubble scratch my skin.
“Fuck, I want you again. Despite this craziness. I just want to fuck you, India, it feels so good being inside you. Healing, like I’m a man again, like I’m living again.”
“Good, because that’s how you two are making me feel—alive.” I stood, letting water run off me in rivers and streams.
Jose looked up, swept his tongue over his bottom lip, and I was relieved to see desire burning in his eyes brighter than the grief of moments ago.
I grabbed a towel, pale peach with cream flowers stitched onto the corner, and quickly dried myself. There was toothpaste and a pack of unopened toothbrushes on the shelf by the sink, so I scrubbed at my teeth and passed Jose a brush.
He mimicked my actions, his attention on my face as I brushed.
“What?” I asked, my mouth frothy.
“I never thought I would be standing, naked, next to India Moore, while we both brushed our teeth.”
I spat and rinsed. Waited while he did the same.
“Well you better believe it, big boy, because this is real, not an illusion, not a day dream, this is us, now, here.” I pressed close to him, flattened my breasts against his chest and spoke onto his lips. “So take me to bed, fuck me, make love to me, then promise me I’ll get both of you at the same time, soon.”
Had I really just said that?
“Oh, yeah, that’s a promise I can deliver.” He smoothed his hands down my back and cupped my butt. Tugged me toward his cock.
Suddenly the bathroom door burst open. Dillon stood there looking wild and agitated, his gun aimed behind himself, into the living room. “Fuck, get yourself out here, Jose, now.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jose’s stomach muscles clenched and a kick of adrenaline surged through him. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. “What the fuck is going on, man?”
Dillon had been spooked, that much was clear. Sweat ran down his temples as though he’d been running, and his breathing was ragged. He had that energy about him that said he was pissed as hell, that he was struggling to contain anger or the urge to kill. Not a good sign. There was no way anyone could have arrived so fast, so Jose didn’t understand the need for urgency. But Dillon never went overboard on the emotions, always had a good reason for everything, so him bursting in like that meant something serious. And what the hell was he waving his gun at?
“You’ll want to see this,” Dillon said, staring at Jose with one of those looks.
Shit!
“Cover up,” Jose said to India, his mind churning with possible scenarios. Jesus, how quickly things changed. They’d gone from sexily serene to chaotic within seconds. “And stay the hell in here—and do as you’re told this time.”
“She won’t be in any danger,” Dillon said, voice clipped, the edge it had giving Jose the heads up he was on the point of snapping, saying something harsh. “And India needs to be out here anyway.”
Jose frowned and reached for another towel from the rack. He handed it to India and waited while she covered herself up. “Is there something I need to know before we go out there? Something India needs to know?” Christ, trying to communicate with Dillon without spooking her was difficult. She wasn’t stupid, she must have picked up on his close relationship with Dillon and how they spoke without words—most people noticed it, commented on it.
Dillon clenched his teeth, jaw muscles working. He stared into the living room as though contemplating what he should say next.
“Come on, man, don’t fuck about,” Jose said. “Just tell me.”
Dillon glanced at Jose then at India, clearly warring with himself. Attention back on Jose, he said with a nod into the main room, “Got someone.”
“What?” India whispered, staggering back a step until her hip met with the sink. She gripped the edge and stared between the two of them, fear in her eyes and a red blush creeping onto her cheekbones. “Oh, God. Someone…?”
Jose took her hand and squeezed. She sagged against him and he put his arm around her, pulling her close. She rested her cheek on his chest and gripped the towel at his waist. Jose acknowledged her trembling and rubbed the top of her arm.
Don’t fall apart on us.
Dillon eyed her and took a deep breath, and Jose knew he hated having to put her through this. Hated seeing her frightened and vulnerable. Jose felt the same. His protective instincts were growing, the need to keep her safe something he never would have thought would take over him like this since Nadine. Yeah, he’d got himself attached to women in other cases, wanting to make sure they weren’t hurt, but it had been a detached care, his duty, something he did so he’d never feel the guilt he had over Nadine.
India had got to him. Shit, she’d got to the pair of them. Got right under their goddamn skins.
“It’s safe, he won’t hurt you,” Dillon said, his voice tender, his mannerisms more relaxed. “Wait there just a second.” He disappeared, returning to th
e doorway with some clothes, which he tossed into the air. “Put this T-shirt on over the towel. I don’t want him seeing you…like that.”
India grabbed it and, her hands shaking, slipped it on. It reached her knees. “Do you…is he the man from the video?”
“Don’t know yet.” Dillon grimaced, nodding at Jose’s shorts. “He’s got night-vision goggles on.” He shook his head, turned, then walked from view, gun still aloft.
Night-vision goggles? The fucking asshole’s professional, knows exactly what he’s doing.
Jose cupped India’s face, his need to reassure her stronger than his need to get out there and face the motherfucker Dillon had caught. That bastard wasn’t going anywhere and could wait. A thought roamed through his head. Either that reporter had spread the word fast or their boat had been tracked all along, the note writer knowing exactly where they were. That had to be it; otherwise, how the fuck had he got here so fast?
“You sure you’re up for this?” he asked.
She lifted her gaze to look up at him. The spots of high color on her cheeks were bright compared to the paleness of the rest of her face. She appeared as though she had a fever—ill, the sweat of fear a sheen on her skin—but nodded, raising her hands to grasp his wrists tightly. A little too tightly for his liking. She was more scared than he imagined she’d want to admit.
“I have to see him.” She blinked several times and swallowed before continuing. “This has been going on so long. I just need it over.”
Jose nodded, understanding her desire to find out once and for all who this prick was and why he wanted her dead. “All right.” He released her to put on his shorts. “Stay by me or Dillon unless we say otherwise. Do what we tell you if things get rough out there. I mean it, okay?”
