Taboo (Penthouse Pleasures Book 1)

by Jayne Rylon

  3

  A few hours later, Casey crouched beside the locksmith, peering over his shoulder.

  The door to the safe swung open.

  Even from where she stood, with him partially obscuring the interior of the small secure space, it was pretty obvious there were no giant diamonds or fat stacks of cash inside. Damn.

  “Well, shit. That’s a letdown, huh?” The guy deflated, his bulky shoulders sagging. He hitched his pants up, thankfully covering his kind-of-hairy crack—not that she’d intentionally looked—then shuffled aside. “I was rooting for treasure. Instead it’s only some dumb papers.”

  Casey sighed and reached inside, expecting to find the usual. A birth certificate or a title to a car, something like that. Instead, when she withdrew a plain manila folder and set it on her desk, she was surprised to discover diagrams inside.

  It took her a second to figure it out. Not Everly. Familiar with the area depicted, the building manager cursed immediately without even trying to obscure the f-word under her breath. “Why are those in there?”

  Those would be blueprints of the six penthouse apartments in this exact building, along with copious notes on each. Casey deduced that was what they were because the paper on top was a depiction of her own penthouse. It marked a section of the bedroom closet with a green square. An arrow led off the page toward the unit next door.

  On the second page, the arrow continued along the back wall of the second apartment, until it reached a spot somewhere in the ceiling of her neighbor’s guest bathroom.

  Below the green line were neat bullet points.

  Leaves between five and six on weekday mornings to meditate in the park.

  Volunteers at South Street Food Pantry, Homeless Shelter, and/or the Manhattan Furniture Bank every day.

  Dog left home, crated. Friendly.

  Wealth inherited from elderly friend/parishioner.

  Occupation: Ex-priest. Philanthropist.

  Returns no earlier than five on weekday evenings.

  Items of interest: gold reliquary containing first-class relic of St. Francis of Assisi, antique Bibles, diamond cross, religious paintings by world-class artists including Rembrandt, Diego Velázquez, Salvador Dalí, and Raphael.

  “Holy shit.” Casey thumbed through the remaining pages. Six in all. Each was more detailed than the last. They included more info on her neighbors than she was comfortable reading. Something sketchy was going on here. Or had gone on.

  She handed the papers to Everly, who repeated her motions. The woman’s face turned ashen before she whispered, “Those green lines. They’re running along a channel that allows for utilities—wiring and pipes and stuff—to pass from unit to unit up here.”

  “You think the guy who lived here was planning to go for a little tour of the penthouses?” Casey didn’t need the other woman to agree. She was sure of it.

  Everly nodded before handing the documents back to Casey. “You’re a lawyer, right? I’m probably going to need copies of those at some point.”

  Casey agreed then tucked them neatly into the folder. The locksmith looked down at the file shaking in her hands, then up at her with a bigger frown than before. “I think you’d better call the cops.”

  Fuck her life. She knew what would happen if she did.

  There was no other option, though.

  What if the guy who’d lived here before hadn’t run off with his young, busty lover to some remote tropical island with a tax-dodging offshore account as they’d suspected? What if he’d been caught doing something like this somewhere else? Or worse…what if the man had been innocent and dispatched by whomever had placed this dossier in her safe while taking advantage of the vacant penthouse for the past year or so?

  They might not take kindly to her booting them onto the street or foiling their heist plans.

  “I think you’re right.” Casey shivered and plopped into the expensive leather chair behind the ornate desk. She buried her face in her hands. Because Jace West was about to get an impromptu tour of her new home.

  It didn’t matter how big the city was or what his official position was on the police force. She’d found out he belonged to it when she’d stalked him on social media during a weak and lonely moment a while ago. If Jace heard she was in trouble, he’d be there.

  Why didn’t that thought bother her as much as it should?

  Casey braced herself, then searched for the non-emergency number for the NYPD.

  4

  It took even less time than Casey thought for Jace to materialize on her brand-new doorstep. Within a half hour, he had arrived at the scene and started demanding answers to a rapid-fire barrage of questions. She heard his husky voice, and a smoother one telling him to settle down, before she saw him.

  When she rounded the corner from the living room, he was about to plow past the bellman, Lenny, and the first responders who’d been milling about in the entryway for a while now, waiting for two hotshot detectives. Casey hadn’t even bothered asking for their names. Her gut told her it would be him.

  That didn’t mean it was any less of a shock to her system when her hunch became reality.

  The familiar yet deepened timber that issued commands set her at attention. He used to bark orders at her like that in bed right before he slapped her ass and plunged his cock into her very willing body. She hoped her hard nipples weren’t showing through her thin lace bra and silky handkerchief top when she faced the love of her life in person for the first time in a decade.

  She barely resisted the urge to fluff her hair or strike a flattering pose when his laser-beam stare locked on to her, warming her from the inside out.

  Worse, he was wearing jeans and a charcoal sport coat over a tight-fitting navy knit shirt. A damn sexy pair of jeans that flattered his oh-so-grownup and fleshed out body. He obviously hadn’t kicked his running habit and probably expanded on it with some serious weight training at the gym. Damn. It was a hell of a different look for him than the holey sweats from the secondhand store. He’d practically lived in those as a kid.

  You know how most people take an extremely flattering picture of themselves, apply filters until it barely resembles reality, and then use it as their icon for online profiles? Not Jace. He was even more attractive in person than he’d been in the snapshots she’d spied after a mutual friend had tagged them both in a ridiculous meme about growing up dirt poor.

  Casey had deleted that fucker ASAP. Hopefully before her co-workers had seen it. Then she’d snooped around in his profile. She wasn’t proud of it, but she hadn’t been able to look away. Jace had always been handsome. Now he was devastating. Especially since she’d noticed his relationship status: single.

  She fingered the jade figurine she’d stuck in her pocket after calling the police. Rubbing the smooth stone repeatedly had soothed her as she waited for the inevitable. It also gave her hands something to do right then. Otherwise she might be in danger of sprinting toward Jace, flinging herself into his arms, wrapping her thighs around his trim hips, and burying her fingers in his thick, dark hair or dragging them over his chest to see if it was as chiseled beneath that soft, stretchy fabric as she anticipated.

  He’d been the hottest guy in her town when he’d taken her virginity. No one she’d been with since had come close to exciting her like he had either. How much pleasure would he be capable of giving her with an extra decade of experience under his belt?

  “Casey.” Why? Why did he have to say her name like that? Like he wouldn’t be opposed to ripping her clothes off and showing her precisely how much he’d matured since they’d slummed it together, right there on the spot, onlookers be damned. She nearly choked.

  “Detective West.” Oops. She hadn’t meant for his name to sound so sultry. Her throat was tight and her mouth had gone dry, though. So she accompanied the breathy greeting with a brusque nod. He didn’t have to know that using his title had her squirming inside, instantly and uncomfortably aroused. She did her best to avoid dropping her stare to the
handcuffs on his belt or the spot where the denim hugged his package, highlighting the portion of his anatomy she would most love to become reacquainted with. If only things were that simple.

  “Oh, come on.” He scowled at her.

  “Just keeping it professional.” She shrugged one shoulder, noting how his gaze lingered on her bare skin. Damn tank top. She hadn’t been expecting company when she’d picked her outfit this morning.

  The second detective, whom she’d already forgotten about, slid between them. He acted as the buffer they both needed to keep their reunion from deteriorating into either an epic fight or an epic fuck right there on her marble floor.

  “Ms. Clark, I’m Detective Ian Ross. We’re partners.” He gestured to Jace with a single jack of his thumb over his shoulder. Where Jace was rough and forceful, his partner was smooth and charismatic. The ultimate good cop.

  Partners, huh? Ian seemed more like a chaperone. The Hyde to Jace’s Jekyll.

  “Thank you for coming.” She extended her hand and he shook it. Firmly enough to acknowledge her own strength, yet not so hard that it seemed as if he was trying to prove how big his dick was, like some of the arrogant bastards she interacted with at work.

  “Are you okay?” Jace stepped forward, reaching out as casually as he had the nine million other times he’d touched her. He brushed her hair away from her neck and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek as he had every time he’d promised her things would be okay. That they were only going to get better from then on out. He’d been right. Except she’d always imagined they’d be improving their lives together, not separately.

  Casey hadn’t prepared herself for such intimacy. She hadn’t hardened herself against the effects of his tenderness. Her eyes drifted partway closed as she leaned into the caress. It felt so familiar. She’d missed his bold displays of affection.

  Son of a bitch.

  She shook him off and stepped backward.

  “I’m fine.” She crossed her arms, hopefully obscuring the betrayal of her body at the barest of contact with Jace—and his partner, for that matter. For a moment, she’d been connected to them both simultaneously. It would have been impossible not to imagine a scenario where their innocent contact became something far more inflammatory, considering her history with Jace and the reason they’d broken up.

  “I think that’s an understatement,” Ian said softly.

  Casey thought it might have been sexual innuendo until she realized he was looking beyond her to the luxurious apartment and the urban landscape stretched outside her windows. When she relaxed, his eyes shifted and he swept his gaze over her, making it clear his comment hadn’t been quite as innocent as he’d probably like her to think.

  She had to get this done with and send the pair of steamy detectives on their way before things spiraled out of control. Forget that dating site she’d been thinking of yesterday, too. After spending time in the presence of these men—smelling them, experiencing the instant sexual tension crackling through the air between them—no one would live up to this standard. Jace was her ultimate fantasy, and his partner wasn’t shabby either.

  Ian possessed a calming vibe that helped ground her despite Jace’s nearness. A trait she very much appreciated right then.

  Jace turned to the two uniformed police officers and Lenny. “We’ll take it from here, guys. Make sure the two of you leave via the service entrance. Don’t draw any more attention to the situation than necessary until we figure out exactly what’s happening here.”

  The cops nodded and tipped their hats before escorting Lenny back to the lobby.

  Jace crowded Casey, nudging her toward his partner. Trapped between them, she suddenly couldn’t think of anything except what that might feel like under different, much more pleasurable, circumstances.

  Everly cleared her throat from the kitchen. The open-concept floor plan made it easy for her to see exactly what was going on. From the raised brow she winged in Casey’s direction, she saw a little too much. More than Casey intended.

  Casey extricated herself from their grasp and headed toward the other woman. “Detectives, this is the building’s manager, Everly Wright.”

  The guys advanced deeper into her home, making her wonder if she’d ever get the sight of Jace and his partner filling the place with their powerful presence out of her brain. Fuck them. It would always feel empty after they’d gone.

  Jace rested his hand on her lower back, in the dip of her spine. It seemed natural. She’d missed the weight of his palm there and the heat that flowed through his fingers, threatening to scorch her.

  It was right about then that she realized there was no way he was going to leave here, tonight or some other time, without giving her a do-over. There was too much energy zinging between them to leave it unexplored. As adults, would they be better at corralling that reckless passion? Indulging their physical magnetism without involving their hearts?

  Ian looked over at them and shook his head slightly.

  To her, the gesture didn’t seem disapproving. More like an “I told you so” aimed at Jace or a “this should be interesting” mental note to himself.

  Casey figured it would be hard to deceive a detective, or two, so she didn’t bother trying.

  It was no secret she lusted after Jace. Always had.

  They were consenting adults. If they wanted to have a reunion fling, so be it. If they reveled in their effect on each other for the five or ten minutes it would take for her to file a report then move on with their lives, at least she’d gotten to see him again. Happiness swept some of the gloom from the situation as she realized he wasn’t only surviving, but thriving. That’s what she’d always hoped for him.

  Despite the smoldering attraction that threatened to turn her new penthouse into cinders, Jace and Ian snapped to attention the moment Everly and Casey began to explain the situation and what had led to their call for assistance.

  They pored over the file before Jace lifted his gaze to hers. “We’ve been investigating the disappearance for ten months. When I saw your name come through on the new title, I almost died. I was planning to stop by in a few days, to ask some questions…and see how you’re doing. I’m relieved you’re bringing this to our attention before we discovered it ourselves, but pissed that now you’re involved. This is dangerous business. I don’t want you anywhere near it.”

  “Seriously?” What were the odds of that? Casey didn’t believe in fate or luck. Maybe it wasn’t too late to start. “I assumed you were being your usual overbearing self by showing up here tonight.”

  “So you do know each other…” Everly squinted at them.

  “Yeah.” Jace scrunched his eyes and pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “To you both.”

  Ian explained for Everly. “They were high school sweethearts.”

  Funny, that’s not at all how Casey would categorize their relationship. It was so much more than that. Deeper, more meaningful. Soul-crushing when it ended. The twist to Jace’s sexy lips made her think he agreed with that, at least.

  Everly was smart enough, and tactful enough, to drop the subject.

  Casey shifted their attention back to the important stuff. “So what do you know and do these papers help your case?”

  “Off the record, we suspect that the previous owner of this apartment was a high-class thief. An enterprising up-and-comer who started cutting his boss out of the picture and taking jobs, for full price, on his own. He was careful. No one knew he lived here under an assumed name. This was both a hideout and, from the looks of these documents, a way to break free for good. An early retirement plan, I guess you could say.” Jace paused then and looked at Ian.

  “Well, we already knew he took off, right?” Everly bitched, “This place has been vacant for nearly a year. It’s been a giant pain in the ass to work through all the red tape with the mortgage company and lenders to get it on the market again. It doesn’t look good for us, having an open spot for so long. Being sold out makes
the apartments downstairs easier to turn over. Demand creates demand. No offense, Casey, but the average home value took a huge hit when they let this place go cheap.”

  Jace shook his head. “That explanation doesn’t ring true to me. This guy was meticulous. If he’d really gone off the grid, he wouldn’t have done it in a messy way that left unanswered questions. Leaving something like this behind that could trip him up later? No way. My guess is that someone caught on and made an example of him. But we don’t have enough proof of that to take down the ringleader.”

  Ian grunted as if he disagreed.

  “This file really does lend a lot of weight to Ian’s theory. One he’s been trying to convince me of for a while.” Jace clapped him on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re going to win that bet, buddy.”

  “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to claim my prize.” The curl of Ian’s lopsided smile made Casey tingle, though she wasn’t quite sure why.

  They might have had a lot more to say about the situation, except right then Everly’s phone started buzzing, flashing, and ringing all at once. She frowned and glanced at it. “Oh shit.”

  Ian leaned toward her and read the messages pouring onto her screen. “Son of a bitch! He’s not that stupid, is he?”

  “I’m going to shut it down, I’m sorry,” Everly called over her shoulder as she dashed out the door.

  “What?” Casey asked.

  Jace looked to Ian, who jogged over to her TV and flipped it on. The usual afternoon programming had been interrupted for breaking news. And there was their friendly neighborhood locksmith, blabbing to the media about what they’d found, the missing previous owner, and his wild speculations about what was going on.

  As they watched, Everly burst onto the scene. Smoothly and efficiently, she requested that the reporters leave their private property while leveling an icy glare at the locksmith, who’d never work in her building again. Casey was sure of it.