by Shayla Black
come under some nasty scrutiny. Hell, if anyone had a reason to kill the admiral, it wasn’t the Russians. It was the White House.”
She stood abruptly. “He would never. I know Zack.”
“Sometimes the president doesn’t call all the shots. And I’m speculating. I don’t believe for a second that the admiral did anything except honorably fall on his sword. He spared his family and the Navy an enormous amount of pain.”
Holland absorbed another shock for the day. “You think he did the right thing?”
“I saw those terrible pictures, honey, so I know he did.”
“What the hell do I do now? Dax won’t give up. I can try to talk to him, but I don’t think I’ll be able to persuade him to stop. I think I have to at least prove that his father was set up.”
Her uncle hesitated, then let loose a reluctant sigh. “I’m going to give you a file. It’s my personal investigation. The pictures will be inside. If you want to stop Dax, show him these images. Otherwise, you’re trying to take on something you have zero jurisdiction over.”
“But there’s something sinister and wrong here. Why haven’t you continued looking for the truth?”
“Because I like breathing. And the Russian mob is something bigger than local law enforcement. If the FBI wants to investigate, I’ll help them out, but I’m not putting any of my men in the line of fire when it isn’t their responsibility and it would only ruffle feathers. We have other crimes to fight and solve every single day.”
Uncle Beau lacked the funds and manpower to fight every battle. It was a sad truth of law enforcement. Like doctors, police officers were often forced to triage a situation rather than fix it.
She waited quietly while her uncle unlocked his file cabinet and retrieved the pictures that would prove Dax’s father’s guilt.
EIGHT
Dax opened the door to Holland’s place with a sigh, thankful the long day was over. All he wanted was to eat a little something before he crawled into bed with her—and not necessarily in that order. Food could really wait. He needed her love and affection.
What a freaking day.
He set the pizza down on the counter. “Sweetheart? You home?”
For a moment he thought he was alone. He was about to pick up his phone and give her a call when he saw her hair blowing out on the balcony. He watched her for a moment, her slender form graceful, before he joined her. Dusk had nearly arrived and her shadow moved along the window, past the little bistro table and chairs, as if she’d begun pacing.
He opened the door and immediately found himself with an armful of Holland. She threw herself against his chest, wrapping that body around him. “Hey, if I’d known I was going to get this kind of welcome, I would have snuck out of work and found you hours ago.”
She turned her face up. “It was a long day. That prison is depressing.”
He studied her and smoothed her hair back. “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart. I wish I could have been with you. Did you learn anything new?”
“I found out that Sue Carlyle is a raging drug addict with serious mental problems. All that getting high affected her memory. She can’t tell us anything. It was another dead end. I’m so sorry.”
Clearly, Holland was upset about that. He hugged her tight. “It’s not your fault. This investigation was cold. We knew it would be hard.”
She squeezed him back. After the day he’d had, he winced.
“Are you all right?” She eased away, staring up at him with concerned blue eyes.
“It’s nothing,” he assured her. “I just damn near got mowed down near Jackson Square today. I’m fairly certain that drunk asshole started hitting the bottle way too early.”
Holland gasped. “What happened? Tell me.”
He kissed her forehead, doing his best to soothe her. “Just some of the usual rowdiness in the city.”
She took a step back, looking him over. Her stare immediately fell to the nasty spot on his arm where he’d crashed to the concrete in order to avoid the oncoming SUV. Luckily, he moved fast or he would have been in serious trouble. He’d had a few nasty words for that inebriated prick who naturally hadn’t stopped so he could say them.
“Tell me everything.” Her eyes had flared wide with fear, tears shimmering. She ran her hands over him as though trying to seek out the damage and heal it with her touch.
Dax sighed because worrying her wasn’t how he wanted to spend his evening, but maybe the whole story would set her at ease. She looked genuinely upset. “Yeah, the fucker never even put his foot on the brakes. I don’t know if he even realized what he’d almost done. Idiot. You want to explain to me why there are never any cops around when I need one, but at least three ready to write me a ticket when I go five miles over the speed limit?”
“Did you get the plate?” Her voice trembled.
He frowned. “No. I was trying to scrape myself off the concrete. I guess I should have asked if anyone else had, but I doubt it. Everything happened so fast.” The people around him had been concerned with helping him up and making sure he was all right. No one had offered him information about the car or driver.
“Dax . . .” She threw her arms around him and held tight.
What the devil? He appreciated her concern but didn’t need it.
Easing back, he cupped her face and studied her for a moment. “Holland, I’m fine.”
“That’s the second time since you’ve been in town that someone’s nearly killed you.”
What was her point? “Well, I promise not to run after street thieves again and I’ll stay away from Jackson Square. I really am fine, sweetheart. After the incident, I picked up lunch for the office and went back. No harm, no foul.”
She hugged him again, trailing her fingers down his face. She stared at him as if nothing was more precious to her. “I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt. I would do just about anything to make sure you’re all right. You know that, don’t you?”
That prison must have really rattled her. “I would do the same for you. Stop looking like you lost your best friend. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Really? And if I can’t solve this case?”
He didn’t want to think about that tonight. Besides, she would. He knew Holland. She was brilliant and had tenacity. She wouldn’t stop searching. So Amber Taylor’s mom had turned out to be a bust. If the woman’s drug-addled memory couldn’t be trusted, it was a setback but not Holland’s fault. Maybe he should talk to Sue Carlyle’s cellmates. Sometimes crazy people told kernels of truth in their tales.
He would ring some contacts and call in a few favors, maybe set up an interview or two. Talking to the guards might shed some light, too. But if the prison had disturbed Holland that much, he’d leave her out of it. He’d do everything he could to save her from more distress.
But now he intended to make her feel so much better.
Dax tangled his fingers in her silky waves as he lowered his mouth to hers. Kissing Holland was so different. Before her, pressing his lips to another woman’s had merely been the beginning of the seduction, an eventual means to an end. It was something he’d done to get both he and his partner ready for sex.
With Holland, kissing was a thrill to savor, a destination he could enjoy for long hours. He devoured her mouth, dragging his tongue over her lower lip until she sighed and melted against him, winding her arms around his torso. Dax felt her start to relax.
That was good, because she didn’t need to think here. When they were alone, together, that was their safe haven. They had no room here for anything beyond the two of them.
In the distance, Dax heard the music from nearby clubs starting up. As darkness fell, the party would be starting, but he was only interested in the good times he could share with Holland. Though he rather liked the idea of enjoying their “privacy” in the middle of a crowd.
He skimmed his palms down her back before finding her backside and
filling his hands with her as he drew her closer. She gave him the sweetest little whimper. The overhead light of her balcony wasn’t illuminated. Up here, the neon signs flashing below seemed hazy, almost soft as the earthy plants in their clay pots all around filtered their garish colors.
She kissed him once more, then heaved a weighty sigh before turning away again to lean against the wrought-iron railing. She looked pensive, her shoulders clustered around her ears.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just hard. My job can get me down from time to time. There are some things I can’t fix and it really makes me crazy.”
Dax wrapped his arms around her from behind and was satisfied when she let her head fall back against him. “There’s only so much you can do.”
“It makes me angry.”
“I know you. If you say you’re unable to do more, then I know you’ve done everything you could. Now you need to let it go.” He kissed along the shell of her ear, satisfied when she shuddered. “You need to relax, sweetheart. Let me take over.”
She paused, then let out a little groan. “I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I need you, Dax. I need you so badly.”
“Tell me about it. Tell me about your day.” His hand cupped her breast.
She shook her head. “I want to forget it.”
He thumbed her nipple, feeling it stiffen against his thumb. He could give her pleasure and a respite from the day. “I can help you with that.”
“Let’s go inside.” Her voice sounded slightly husky.
“Hmm,” he murmured in her ear. “The party is just getting started out here, sweetheart. Hush, no one can see you. No one has any idea what we’re doing up here. We’re just a couple looking out over the Quarter, enjoying a romantic evening.”
He slid his hand down to the waistband of her slacks, aware of her frozen and staring down at the people on the street, as if gauging who might be able to see them. A trellis of climbing ivy concealed his movements, but they still had full view of the action below. Couples milled about, holding hands and kissing. Groups of friends strolled through the Quarter. People began to fill up the restaurants and bars.
“Look out there. Tell me what you see.” He would use both mental and physical tactics to slip past her defenses so he could take her mind off her problems. So as he spoke, he slipped his hand just under her waistband and down to the silk of her undies.
Her breath caught. “Dax, what are you doing?”
With his other hand, he pinched her nipple lightly, just enough to make her gasp. He also reminded her who was in charge for now. “I’m having a nice time with the most beautiful woman in the world and she’s going to let me. Aren’t you, sweetheart? Because you know I’ll take you somewhere wonderful, someplace where you don’t have to think about anything but your next orgasm. So give over and let me do my job.”
“Your job?”
“Taking care of you. I’ve decided it’s my primary job in life.” He whispered the words against her ear. “So hush unless I ask you a question. No one can see us. They’re too busy with their own pleasures. Now look at that couple on the street below and tell me what you see.”
They were standing in line, waiting to be seated. The woman wore a white sundress and the man slacks with a collared shirt. Occasionally, she looked up at him as if they shared a secret. He always gave her a sly smile back.
“They’ve been together for a while. You can see it in the way he holds her hand, the way they look at each other,” she murmured.
“Yes.” He nipped her ear and she moaned.
Emboldened, Dax slipped his hand a bit lower, well under the band of her bikini underwear, skimming the pad of her sex with his fingertips and intentionally missing her clitoris. She was already heating up for him.
“God, Dax, please touch me there. Please.” Holland arched her back, grinding her firm backside against his stiff cock.
She wasn’t playing fair, but then two minutes ago she’d told him she hadn’t wanted to play at all, so he was calling this a win.
He smiled as he soothed the little bite he’d given her with his tongue, tracing it along the shell of her ear. “I’ll get there, but not until you give me what I want. So tell me what makes you think they’ve been together for a while.”
“You’re going to kill me, Spencer. Fine. They’re comfortable holding hands. She leans into him. She smiles at him differently than she does at everyone else. Watch her. She’s polite to others, but when he talks, she lights up.”
He teased down farther, brushing the little jewel that brought them both so much pleasure. He let the pad of his finger rub against it, starting the slow roll to her orgasm. His erection jumped when he realized she was already wet. “Where do you think they’re at in their relationship?”
“They’re in love.” Her voice had taken on a breathless quality as she watched the couple take their seats. The restaurant doors were glass with big bay windows. The couple was seated in the front. The man moved quickly, not allowing the waiter to seat his date. He pulled out the chair for her, held a hand out to ease her down.
“I think you’re right,” he whispered as he rubbed her sensitive nub in little circles.
He dipped his fingers lower, slipping into her labia where he found all the evidence of her arousal he needed. She was so wet. All he had to do was touch her. No woman had ever responded to him the way Holland did. It was as if she was made for him.
“He treats her like you treat me.” Her head fell back against his chest, a sure sign of her surrender.
They hadn’t exchanged words of love, not exactly. He didn’t say them now, either. He wanted to save it. He had plans for his girl.
“Yes, he treats her the way I treat you. I’ll bet he’s always thinking of her. She’s the last thought he has before he goes to sleep at night and the first when he wakes up in the morning. He can’t work sometimes because she’s taking over all his thoughts. And when he’s around her? Oh, he’s useless for anything but touching her, being close to her. She’s his home.”
“Dax,” she said, her voice breaking.
“Shh, let it happen, sweetheart. I won’t say another word.” She wasn’t ready for undying declarations tonight. They needed a little more time. He had a bit left to give her.
He picked up the pace, her arousal making her melt even more quickly. Over and over, he circled her clitoris, her body beginning to move in time to his. She thrust her pelvis against his hand, offering herself up to him. They weren’t watching the street below anymore. He was watching her. And with her head thrown back and her eyes closed, she gave herself over to him.
Her body shuddered, and he caught her mouth in a kiss to cover her cries. He was fairly certain no one would hear those sweet whimpers over the raucous racket on the street below, but she would be mortified if they did.
When he’d finally wrung every last second of ecstasy from her, he gently pulled his hand back and sucked his fingers into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of her arousal. She was honey on his lips.
“How do you do that to me?” Holland turned in his arms. “How do you make me forget everything except you? I’m not a wild sort of girl.”
“Of course not. You enjoy sex, as you should. You’re not only a woman, you’re a lady.”
She frowned. “I’m also not the sort who needs help to sit in a chair or someone to open the door.”
“I know, but I need to do things for you. Don’t make my wanting to ensure you’re protected and cared for into some mark against your strength. I need for you to know how special you are to me. That’s why I do those things for you.”
She sniffled a little and rolled those gorgeous eyes of hers. “Naturally. You know exactly what to say to me. God, you’re too good to be true, Dax. This is all going to fall apart.”
What was going on with her? He drew her closer, hugging her tight. “Everything falls apart at one point in time. The key is making sure you put it back
together.”
“I love you, Dax. Don’t ever forget it.” She kissed him, cupping his face in her hands and pressing her whole body against his.
He lit up like a kid at Christmas. Clearly, he’d read her wrong. She was ready. He was damn sure ready. Finally, their timing was right. “I love you, too. God, you have no idea how much I love you.”
He picked her up, filling his palms with that luscious ass of hers. Holland wound her legs around his waist. He loved the weight of her in his arms. If she let him, he would carry her everywhere, holding her close.
