Tempting Calm Waters

by Samantha Wolfe

  "Well, people in hell want ice water," I growled out irritably as lowered the camcorder, having gotten the footage I needed.

  "Wouldn't you rather find your own date than have Mom try to fix you up again?"

  I let out a bitter laugh. "The kind of woman I would bring wouldn't be welcome, Ror, and if she tries to fix me up again, I'll do the same thing I did last time. I'll leave."

  "Yeah, and you left me to deal with Mom's tears and Dad's anger."

  "I'm sorry, Rory," I told him firmly. "You and Ethan may be willing to jump through Mom and Dad's hoops and walk the walk, but that's not who I am anymore or who I'll ever be again. If that makes me a disappointment than so be it. It's not like I'm not used to it."

  "Scott-" my little brother began in a sympathetic and placating tone, but he was interrupted by someone frantically saying, "Dr. Conrad" in the background. "Shit, I gotta go," he said regretfully.

  "It's all good bro," I replied, feeling relieved to be ending this conversation. "Go save a life and I'll talk to you later. Love ya. Bye." I ended the call before he could say anything else. It was kind of a dick move, but Rory would get over it.

  I set the camera on the passenger seat with a sigh, then slumped down and closed my eyes as a wave of exhaustion fell over me. It had been a long day, and I was dog tired. I really needed some sleep.

  Suddenly, there was a loud tapping on the window next to me. I jumped and found myself blinking under the harsh bright light of a flashlight. I could just make out enough to see that a uniformed police officer was standing just behind my driver's side door with his service weapon trained on me.

  "I need you to raise your hands where I can see them and step out of the vehicle please, sir."

  Shit. I sighed and did what I was told, knowing my night just got even longer. Who knew when I'd see my bed now? I assumed the position against the side of my car, so he could frisk me.

  "Just so you know," I told him, hoping it would ease things along. "I'm armed, and I have a concealed carry permit."

  He stiffened for a beat as he patted me down, divesting me of my Smith and Wesson M&P9c 9mm pistol from its shoulder holster under my hoodie, and my wallet out of my pocket. A moment later, my hands were cuffed behind my back, and he was flipping open my wallet to eye my driver's license and my weapon permit.

  "May I ask what the hell this is all about?" I asked irritably since my shoulders were already starting to ache from being cranked backwards.

  "No," he barked out succinctly, and the next thing I knew I was being shoved across the street away from my car while still in handcuffs. My annoyance grew, but I kept my mouth shut, having no intention of making things worse. I could be patient a little longer. If all else failed, I'd call our family lawyer if I had to, no matter how much it might pain me to have to use my family's considerable wealth and influence.

  The officer took me around to the front of the building where a shitload of squad cars were parked along the street near the entrance with cops milling around. Huh. Some major shit must have gone down for all this to be going on. Without a word, the officer took me to one of the squad cars and opened the back door, then proceeded to push me into the back seat. Without a single explanation, he slammed the door shut and headed toward the entrance to begin talking to another officer. Son of a bitch. It looked like I might be stuck here for a while.

  I continued watching the area since I didn't have anything else to do, and noticed what I assumed was a plainclothes officer standing near the apartment building's front doors. He was talking to a young early-twenties Hispanic woman who was sobbing and hugging herself. I wondered what the hell was going on until a commotion at the front door caught my attention. A body bag was being wheeled out on a gurney. Whoa. No wonder that cop was unpleasant when he found me if there was a body in the building. Something told me it hadn't been an accident or natural causes.

  The Hispanic girl suddenly wailed loudly as she caught sight of the gurney. Shit. Sympathy punched me in the gut. Poor girl. The detective she'd been talking with tried to console her as the body was wheeled past her to a morgue van.

  The loud squealing of car tires caught my attention next, and I glanced over to see a newer model dark gray Dodge Challenger skid to a halt right in front of the sidewalk by the entrance. The car was badass. The driver's door flew open as a five-foot-nothing whirlwind burst out of the vehicle and rushed straight for the poor crying girl. My eyes widened, and my breath caught. Holy fucking shit. She was glorious, sexy as all hell in a short black leather jacket, a pair of three-inch knee-high black boots, and tight dark jeans covering a rocking ass that should have been fucking illegal.

  I watched her comforting the other girl in complete fascination. Everything about her was a fucking turn on, and my dick was acting accordingly in my pants. Even from across the street, I could see the rich caramel of her skin, her big dark eyes, those full luscious lips, and the confident way she carried her curvaceous body. A long curtain of dark silky hair hung down her back just begging for my hands to run through it, to wrap it in my fist and push her to her knees, to have her submit to me...shit. I shook that thought away. I was not going there, not ever again. I'd shut the door on that part of my life, and I wasn't going back.

  The cop that cuffed me earlier approached the detective still standing near the two Hispanic women. The subject of my fascination watched avidly as the two talked until the officer motioned toward me during their discussion. That was when she turned her full attention on me. Her stare was hard and penetrating, intimidating as hell and sexy as fuck. It made my dick even harder. I shifted in my seat, unable to readjust my throbbing erection as it strained uncomfortably against my zipper. She started walking toward me, the curvy hips of her hourglass figure swaying hypnotically, and her steps swift and confident as she made a beeline straight for me. Oh, shit. She stalked right up to the squad car, yanked the door open, and glared down at me.

  "Get out," she snarled in a rich alto voice as she jerked a thumb up in the air. "Now."

  I dumbly obeyed, thinking I'd do anything if it got me closer to her. I clumsily got myself out of the car, and stood to breathe in the sweet floral scent of magnolia blossoms. Damn, she smelled good. Her face was beautiful with her high cheekbones, cute little nose, and flawlessly arched brows. I stared in fascination into her big warm chocolate brown eyes as she glared up at me and put her hands on her hips. Fuck, I wanted my hands there instead. Her jacket gaped opened, and I could see the nipples of her perfect full breasts poking out under her shirt. Son of a bitch. I felt my balls tighten in response.

  "Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?" she barked out fiercely. It irked me off even as it turned me on.

  "I might ask the same of you," I replied snarkily with an arched brow.

  She grabbed my collar and shoved me back against the squad car. Shit, she was stronger than she looked. Getting a woman like her to submit would be a coup and a joy. I growled at that thought, then irritably shoved it away. Not. Going. There.

  "Listen, you shit-head," she snarled up at me.

  I usually hated being manhandled, but I had to admit I really liked her petite body pressed up against me like this.

  "If you had anything to do with this, I'm going to find out, and make it my fucking mission to ensure you get a lethal injection for it." Her eyes glittered angrily. "Do you understand?"

  "What I understand is that I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," I snapped back at her.

  "Somehow I find that hard to believe," came her snide response. "So I'm going to ask you again. What the fuck are you doing here?"

  I gritted my teeth together. My body might find her absolutely captivating, but my mind was quickly getting pissed the fuck off by her attitude and her bullshit assumptions. Who did this crazy bitch think she was? I wasn't telling her shit.

  "None of your fucking business, so get your hands off me." I growled out through my clenched teeth as I glowered fiercely down at her.

&
nbsp; I was used to being able to intimidate and stare most people down, but it didn't work on her. She held my gaze with a deep and determined scowl that made my blood boil with equal parts anger and lust. Her pupils dilated, and her chest rose and fell as her breathing quickened. Was that just anger, or was she turned on too? I could feel her hard little nipples through my shirt. What would they feel like against my bare chest, or my mouth? What would it feel like to turn her over my knee and spank her ass red for her insolence? If my hands were free, I think I might have grabbed her and kissed her even knowing she'd probably kick my ass for it. As it was, I realized I'd moved my mouth down closer to those gorgeous lips that I couldn't help imagining wrapped around my cock, unconsciously acting out the completely inappropriate thoughts in my head. I stilled. What the hell was wrong with me?

  "Detective Tavarez," a familiar male voice barked out from behind the little spitfire in front of me. I startled right along with her, so caught up in her that I hadn't been paying any attention to anything going on around us. "What the hell are you doing?"

  She instantly released my collar and stepped aside, revealing the source of the angry voice. A middle-aged man stood there with a severe buzz-cut and wearing a badly-fitting suit. His arms were crossed, and his hard dark eyes locked disapprovingly on her. It was Sergeant Detective Warren, a man I'd seen around a few times and knew was a homicide detective. He was an asshole too, but a decent cop.

  "My sister's best friend was murdered tonight, and this guy was found lurking suspiciously around the building," she explained firmly as she stood there confidently, not intimidated by Warren one little damn bit. Her sister's best friend was murdered, and she was a cop? Shit. No wonder she was all up in my face.

  "Was there a transfer into my department I don't know about, Lu?" He stepped closer to her as her confidence faltered. Her first name was Lu? Mm... I liked the sound of it way too much.

  "Um, no, sir," Lu replied a little sheepishly.

  "So you're telling me that you're still on the vice squad then," he said snidely. "So that would mean that you're off the clock and here in an unofficial capacity. Am I right?"

  She nodded grudgingly.

  "Then leave this guy alone, go back to your sister, and leave homicide to handle this," Warren said in a stern and commanding voice.

  "Yes, sir," she replied in a subdued tone as she looked down at the pavement. My dick and I liked those softly spoken words and her submissive demeanor far more than they should. Fuck me.

  "Cut him loose." Warren motioned toward me as he glanced at the officer standing next to him, the same one who got me caught up in this mess.

  Thank fucking God. My shoulders were throbbing from the damn cuffs. I sighed in relief, and I may have shot a smug smile at Lu too. Her face became enraged. Okay, so getting her all riled up may have kind of turned me on. My bad.

  "What the fuck?!" she blurted out angrily as she turned her glare on Warren now. I liked it better when she was directing it at me. What the hell? I'd never in my life reacted like this to a woman. I am some kind of freak.

  Warren arched a brow at Lu.

  "This dumbass could have something to do with Tasha's murder, and you're letting him go?" she asked sharply.

  "This man is a private investigator working an unrelated case." Warren glanced at me. "Am I right, Scott?"

  "That's right, Warren." I nodded, still smirking at Lu as her eyes widened in surprise at my knowledge of the homicide detective's name. "It was an adultery case. I've got the footage to prove it." It got the reaction I wanted, and she glowered at me again.

  "Then why didn't you just fucking tell me that in the first place?" she asked furiously, her tiny curvy body vibrating with anger. It was so fucking hot.

  "Why didn't you tell me you were a cop?" I asked calmly, my smirk growing larger.

  Her jaw clenched, and her face flamed red as she stared me down, her body tense with rage. "Gilipollas," she suddenly snarled at me in Spanish. "Me cago en la madre que te parió!"

  I have no idea what it meant, but hearing her say it in that low alto voice of hers was hot as fuck. I'd have to look it up later. I didn't respond, and merely grinned triumphantly at her as the officer uncuffed me. Her eyes narrowed, and she sucked in a breath hopefully to berate me in Spanish some more.

  "That's enough, Tavarez," Warren cut her off in an annoyance, his face granite hard. "Your sister needs you, and I don't. It's getting late, so you can take her home now. We'll be in touch with her if we need to speak to her again." His words and tone were dismissive, and clearly an order.

  Lu glanced across the street to where her sister was watching us, still hugging herself and crying again. A guilty chagrined expression crossed Lu's flawless face. "Yes, sir," she replied quietly, and I caught myself before I groaned appreciatively at those words. She shot a quick glare my way. "Pendejo," she hissed at me fiercely, then stomped away toward her sister.

  I fought another groan. I knew that word. She just called me an asshole, and it had me grinning like an idiot and my dick twitching in my pants as I watched her sweet ass swaying across the street. I couldn't wait to go home and rub one off to the memory of it, and her wickedly scathing tongue. I'll say it again. I am some kind of freak.

  CHAPTER

  THREE

  ____________________

  Lu

  I sat at my small but immaculate desk in the large squad room of the police station as my mind began to wander where I didn't want it to yet again. It drifted to thoughts of broad muscular shoulders, short thick chestnut hair, and a ruggedly handsome face with a chiseled jawline that was set off by a pair of vivid blue eyes. And all of that masculine perfection ruined by that infuriating smirk. Now I was turned on and pissed off all over again.

  That bastard had gotten under my skin for the last week and a half, and I couldn't get him out. My reaction to that Scott guy was bizarre and annoying. Why would I be turned on by someone so awful? I had better things to do, more important things to do, then to daydream about some sexy douchebag I never wanted to see again. I growled under my breath and shoved all thoughts of him away, then tried to focus on the narcotics case I was working on.

  That was when Warren walked into the squad room and banished all thoughts of my case from my head. I watched from the opposite side of the room, where the vice squad had their desks. He went to his unbelievably cluttered desk and started moving around the case files that were stacked all over it. How the hell did that man keep anything straight and have the clearance rate he did with everything in chaos like that? It pained me to see it, and made me question his dedication to solving Tasha's murder. It was also why I'd been checking in with him everyday on the progress of the case. He'd infuriatingly shared nothing with me each time, and then patronizingly reassured me that the case was being handled and not to worry about it.

  Like I wasn't going to worry about it and take his word for it. Asshole. He hadn't been to Tasha's funeral yesterday. He didn't see the devastation her murder wrought on her family and friends, and on Emilia, my sweet and sensitive little sister. She was almost ten years younger than me, and I'd always looked out for her and protected her. I hadn't been able to protect her from this though, and it really bothered me. She deserved some answers, and I was sick of Warren's unwillingness to give me even a sliver of information. He'd always been kind of an asshole, but he'd gotten worse since becoming a Sergeant Detective last year. The power trip of supervising the homicide squad must have gone to his head. I didn't like him, and I was so fucking done being left in the dark about Tasha's case.

  My anger got the better of me, and I shot to my feet and stalked across the room toward his desk, determined to get something out of him today. His eyes shot up to mine as I approached, and the annoyance that flared in his eyes was immediate and unmistakable. Too fucking bad.

  "What can I do for you, Detective Tavarez?" he said in a gruff tone that belied his polite words. He grabbed the stack of case files closest to where I was standing an
d moved then to the opposite side of his desk before spinning in his chair to face me.

  "I want to know how Tasha's case is going, Warren," I replied sharply. "She was my sister's best friend, and I have a right to know."

  His face hardened. "Do you now?" he asked with a sneer. "I had no idea that you'd suddenly become a member of her family. What, did they adopt you last night?"

  "I've known her since she was a little girl, Warren," I shot back. "She's dead and my sister is devastated. You've got to give me something."

  "I don't have to give you anything, Lu," he replied stiffly. "This case is on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know."

  Need to know? It was a murder case for fuck's sake, not a clandestine spy operation. I opened my mouth to press the issue just as Warren's desk phone rang. He whirled away to take the call. It quickly became apparent from his side of the conversation that he'd gotten a call about a new case. When he hung up, he immediately stood to leave.

  "Well, I'd love to stay and chat," he told me dismissively. "But I have actual work to do. Something I imagine you should be doing too." He eyed me meaningfully. Dick. He turned and clomped away leaving me fuming after him. I hated him right now. I glared at his back as he nonchalantly walked across the squad room until he finally disappeared out of the room.

  I stood there angry, frustrated, and growling under my breath. I wished I could beat the shit out of that asshole, and began glancing around for something I could fantasize about bashing into his smug face. My eyes were caught by the pile of case files that Warren had moved when I first came over here. I froze when I saw Tasha's name on the top one. My fingers twitched, wanting to snatch the thing up. I looked up and scanned the room. The desks near me were empty, and the occupied ones were on the other side of the room. No one was paying any attention to me. I stared at the files again, considering doing something I would usually never in a million years think to do. It was wrong, unethical, and could get me fired or worse, but damn it, I needed to see those files.