Dominic made a muffled noise of surprise and rested his hands on Levi’s hips. Levi was usually aggressive in bed, but this kiss was savage, teeth and grasping hands and the desperate push of Levi’s hips against his. He moved one hand up Levi’s side and felt a small responding flinch.
“Did you get in a fight?” he asked when Levi broke the kiss to catch his breath.
“Yeah.” Levi nipped at Dominic’s throat. “Fuck me,” he murmured, raking his fingers down Dominic’s chest. “Be rough.”
Dominic glanced at his darkened screen. It’d been a stressful week, and he was irritated that Levi had pulled him away from his game. He had plenty of his own frustrations to work out—so if Levi wanted it rough, goddamn it, that was what he’d get.
Returning Levi’s brutal kiss with one of his own, Dominic scooped him up and brought them both crashing to the floor beside his desk. He flipped Levi onto his front, then grabbed the nape of Levi’s neck and shoved his chest flat to the carpet as he forced Levi’s legs apart with his knee. Levi moaned and stayed where Dominic put him.
They didn’t even undress, just pushed the necessary clothing out of the way. Dominic fucked Levi bare with a couple of packets of lube Levi kept in his wallet—and it was perfect, listening to Levi’s demands for more and harder dissolve into throaty, wordless cries while slamming into his tight ass over and over. This time, Dominic managed to hang on long enough for Levi to come first before he tipped over the edge himself.
After he pulled out, Dominic sprawled next to Levi, panting and gazing up at the ceiling. A noise from the kitchen caught his attention, and he looked over to see Rebel peering around the corner of the breakfast bar; she must have retreated there during their energetic fuck. Her reproachful expression prompted him to tuck his cock back into his boxers and zip up his pants.
Levi just kicked his track pants and underwear off along with his sneakers, then slung a leg over Dominic’s thigh and buried his face in Dominic’s chest. He was always cuddly after sex, something that had both surprised and delighted Dominic the first time they’d slept together.
Dominic brushed a hand down Levi’s back to his ass, where he gently slipped his fingers through the come trickling down Levi’s thigh. God, he was never going to get over how sexy that was.
“Who’d you fight?” he asked.
“The hit man who killed Drew Barton.”
“What?” Dominic blinked. “Seriously? I assume you got him?”
Levi hummed an affirmative and lifted his head, smiling—but his smile faltered as he grazed his fingers over the reddened skin around his mouth. “You gave me beard burn,” he said, sounding startled. He touched Dominic’s jaw. “Dominic, when’s the last time you shaved?”
Dominic’s stomach clenched; honestly, he had no idea. “I just haven’t felt like it. Why, don’t you like me with stubble?”
“You don’t like you with stubble.” Frowning, Levi looked over his shoulder at the computer. “What were you doing when I got here? Why is the monitor turned off?”
Panic skittered along Dominic’s spine. This was the downside to having a cop for a boyfriend.
“I was working, and I didn’t know it was you coming in. It could have been Carlos or Jasmine.”
“They would have knocked,” Levi said with narrowed eyes. “You’ve been weird and distant all week. Something’s obviously wrong.”
Dominic pushed him away and sat up. “Oh, so suddenly you’re the world’s most competent detective?” he snapped.
Levi recoiled like Dominic had sucker punched him. He didn’t even snap back, just stared at Dominic with hurt and confusion written all over his face.
“I’m sorry,” Dominic said at once. He took a deep breath. “That was a shitty thing to say, and I didn’t mean it. I’m really stressed out right now—but that’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
He was sorry, but underneath the genuine remorse lay a kernel of resentment. So Levi could be brusque and abrasive all the damn time and Dominic was expected to just laugh it off, but Dominic said one thoughtless thing and had to bend over backward apologizing while Levi acted like a wounded baby animal?
Levi sat up as well. “It’s okay. I know you’re under a lot of pressure. You’re my boyfriend; I shouldn’t treat you like a suspect.”
Though Dominic knew Levi wouldn’t offer insincere forgiveness, he could see that Levi was still upset. He leaned in and wound his fingers through Levi’s curls. “I think everything about you is amazing, baby. Please don’t ever doubt that.”
He pressed a chaste kiss to Levi’s mouth. A moment later, Levi relaxed and returned the kiss, deepening it into something far more passionate.
“Let’s take a shower,” Dominic said, his voice gone husky.
“There’s no way we’ll both fit in your shower.”
“Then you can take a shower and I’ll just watch.”
Levi laughed, and the tension was broken. They stood up, kissing once more before Dominic turned Levi around and steered him toward the bedroom.
As he followed behind, Dominic discreetly slid one foot under the desk, stepping on the reset button of the computer’s power strip.
“Keep your hands up,” Levi said.
“They are up,” said Adriana.
His gloved hand whipped out at top speed and bopped her in the forehead. Scowling, she stepped out of reach.
“Hands up means in front of your face. Not hovering in front of your chest like you see in the movies. That won’t do anything to protect you.”
Fresh determination filled her eyes. She fixed her fighting stance and squared up with him again. He threw another cross and watched her execute a simple deflection and counterattack—a technique known in Krav Maga as inside defense at a rhythm of one-and-a-half.
“Much better. Let’s try it with the jab.”
He watched her closely as they continued drilling hand defenses. After a few months of living with Jasmine’s parents, Adriana was no longer rail-thin, though she still had a lanky build. Her golden-brown skin and black hair glowed with health now that she was well nourished. Most heartening of all, the hunted look that had been left in her eyes by an abusive foster father was fading bit by bit.
Levi met with her once a week or so to train her in Krav Maga; he’d also designed a strength and conditioning program for her to build muscle and increase her endurance. She was a focused, dedicated student, but he’d expected nothing else. He’d been the same way when he’d started, and for the same reason—to never be a victim again.
Once he was satisfied by her inside defense, he directed her to a heavy bag. Counterstrike had open mat sessions every Saturday, and there were about a dozen other people working alongside them, sparring in pairs and small groups.
Rather than take the bag next to her the way he normally would, he stood aside and unstrapped his gloves.
“No bag for you today?” she asked with some surprise.
“I’m too sore from the fight last night,” he said—which was true, though he was aching more from the three delicious times Dominic had wrecked him afterward. Either way, he was in no shape to be moving at any pace more intense than a brisk walk.
He hadn’t told her the full truth about his encounter with Nick Bryce, but he’d had to offer some explanation for the bruises on his face and the hitch in his step. Luckily, nothing was broken.
“Focus,” he said, slapping the bag to put her attention where it belonged. “Let’s go.”
He watched her pummel the bag, occasionally calling out specific strikes and angles to observe her form. She was a fast learner and making good progress; if he got her membership in the IKMF, she’d be ready to take the P1 test in a month or so.
When she started flagging, he said, “Dial your aggression back up. Fast, explosive movements.”
She took a step back, panting, and wiped an arm across her sweaty forehead. “I’m tired.”
“I know.”
One deep breath, and she
launched back into her assault of the heavy bag with renewed vigor. He smiled.
There was a difference between safely pushing limits and going overboard, though, so he called a halt a few minutes later. They grabbed some water and toweled off, and then Adriana changed into street clothes and sat on a bench while she waited for Levi to do the same.
When he came out of the bathroom, she was staring at her phone. “How about Grimaldi’s for lunch?” he asked.
She looked up at him with a stunned expression he was pretty sure had nothing to do with his choice of restaurant.
His skin prickled with foreboding. “What’s wrong?”
Wordlessly, she handed him her phone. It was playing a video in the YouTube app.
BAMF Cop Takes Down Shooter!
Levi’s stomach plummeted. He restarted the video, which had been taken with a cell phone, and dazedly watched himself fight Nick Bryce. The camera had captured the entire confrontation from the first tackle to the moment Bryce went down.
“You told me a suspect resisted arrest,” said Adriana. “You didn’t say you totally kicked the guy’s ass and then choked him out.”
He tore his eyes away from the screen to find her grinning from ear to ear. “I—”
“It already has over three hundred thousand views. Levi, this is amazing.”
“It’s not,” he said. “Look, it’s important to be able to defend yourself and I did what I had to do, but I don’t want you to think this kind of thing is . . . cool or glamorous or whatever.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Why not? This was at the Hard Rock, right? The shooting was on the news last night. That guy murdered a cop and probably would have shot whoever else he had to trying to get out of there. It’s not like you killed him.” She paused, then added, “You didn’t, did you?”
“No. He was released from the hospital this morning and he’s in jail now.” Returning her phone, Levi sat beside her on the bench. “But that’s not the point. What I did could have killed him. I was willing to take that chance because there were lives at stake, but I wish I hadn’t had to. I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Really?” She wiggled the phone. “Because that’s not what it looks like.”
He sighed. From day one, Krav Maga instructors drilled into their students’ heads that the skills they learned were to be used only when a peaceful resolution was impossible. The first and best choice was to disengage; fighting was acceptable solely when the aggressor wouldn’t back off, or in the case of military and law enforcement, when a person needed to be taken down to prevent further harm. Violence was a necessary evil, not something to be glorified. Not something to revel in.
Yet the image Levi had seen of himself in that video was not a man for whom violence was a grim but unavoidable burden. He liked to fight; he liked to win. And after he’d beaten Bryce down, he’d been so aroused that he’d gone straight to Dominic without calling or even thinking that Dominic might be busy. He’d been desperate to release the storm of triumphant bloodlust raging inside him.
Saying he hadn’t enjoyed defeating Bryce was a lie, and not even a convincing one.
“I have to text this link to all my friends,” Adriana said, her thumbs flying across the screen. “They’re gonna freak out. You’re such a badass.”
Levi opened his mouth, but closed it without protesting. Truthfully, he was so glad she had friends she wanted to share this with that he didn’t have the heart to ask her not to.
But he couldn’t help thinking how thin the line could be between badass and psycho.
After lunch, Levi dropped Adriana off at the Andersons’ ranch in Henderson. He drove back to Las Vegas on autopilot and ended up at the Clark County Detention Center despite not consciously intending to go there.
He hadn’t planned to work today. But Dominic was pulling a double shift at Stingray, the LGBT club where he bartended, and Martine was spending the day going from her daughter Mikayla’s cross-country meet to her other daughter Simone’s soccer game. Pathetic as it might sound, he didn’t have anything else to do. His life had always primarily revolved around his job.
Besides, it would be difficult to focus on other things as long as he knew Bryce was in custody. So he found a parking space and went inside the CCDC, where most of the employees knew him by sight.
“I’d like to speak with a prisoner,” he said as he signed in at the front desk. “Nicholas Bryce. He was transported here this morning from UMC.”
The two guards on duty exchanged a glance. “I’m sorry, Detective,” one of them said. “We’ve been ordered not to allow you access to that prisoner.”
Levi went still. “What? By whom?”
“Sergeant Wen, sir.”
Levi stared at him, nonplussed. The guard shifted nervously on his feet and cast an anxious look at his coworker.
“I’ll be right back,” Levi said. He strode out of the building, pulling out his phone and hitting the button for Wen’s cell as he went. He didn’t give a fuck if it was Saturday.
“Abrams,” Wen said in greeting. “I’ve been waiting for your call. In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t call me the second Bryce entered the CCDC.”
“You’re seriously not going to let me talk to him?”
“Why would I? You were never supposed to have contact with him in the first place. It’s a fluke that you got involved in the sting at all—”
“Right, that shining example of sound tactics.” Levi paced back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the CCDC. “Why the hell would you run an operation like that in a hotel full of potential hostages?”
Wen made an exasperated noise. “I didn’t plan it. I had no control over that aspect of the investigation. But I’ve been assured that a public setting was the only way Bryce could be convinced to meet.”
“And now one cop is dead and the other is in a coma. I should have been there from the beginning. We knew what Bryce is capable of, and I’m the most proficient hand-to-hand combatant in the department.”
“I’m not disputing that, but Bryce would have recognized you. You were standing right next to Barton when Bryce shot him, for God’s sake. And besides . . .”
Wen trailed off. Levi stopped walking.
“What?” he said tightly.
“I’m concerned about how this case is affecting you emotionally. In fact, I considered pulling you off it altogether. Agent Chaudhary advised me not to; he thinks it would be a dangerous provocation to the Seven of Spades. But I’m not blind to the psychological toll this is taking on you.”
The idea of being removed from the Seven of Spades investigation hit Levi like a sledgehammer. He actually stopped breathing for a second, his body gone wooden. If he were reassigned without catching the killer, without accomplishing anything . . . that failure would eat at him for the rest of his life.
Even as he thought it, he knew this was exactly what Wen meant.
Striving to keep his voice even, he said, “I want to talk to Bryce.”
“No. I don’t know what you imagine that would even accomplish. Bryce was Special Forces; he’s been trained to resist torture and has spent the past three years traveling the world killing people for money. A police interrogation won’t faze him.”
“If it’s so pointless, why even bother bringing him in?”
“Because now we have his phone and his laptop. Ms. Rivera thinks she can break the encryption on his files, access his financial records, and trace the payment he received for killing Barton. She’s working overtime all weekend on this. Unless you’ve suddenly become a computer genius, that’s not something you can help with.”
Levi groaned. “Then what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
There was a long pause. “Enjoy your weekend, Levi,” Wen said in a much gentler tone. “Spend time with your friends. Go on a date with your partner. Live your life. You don’t owe the Seven of Spades or the department any more of yourself than you’re already giving.”
Levi didn’t respond.
&n
bsp; “I’ll see you on Monday,” Wen said, and hung up.
Cursing, Levi shoved his phone into his pocket and raked both hands over his face and through his hair. Then he stood alone on the sidewalk, empty and directionless.
He had nowhere to go.
Sunday afternoon, Dominic hurried into Blueberry Hill, a casual diner a few blocks from his apartment in the University District. He caught sight of Rohan sitting in a booth near the back and hustled over to join him. Rohan stood as he approached.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, shaking Rohan’s hand. “You got my text?”
“I did, and it’s no problem at all. I hope everything’s all right?”
They sat down across from each other. “Levi’s not feeling well,” said Dominic.
That was his polite way of covering for Levi’s spectacular hangover. Levi had shown up at Stingray last night already drunk, rambling about Sergeant Wen and the Seven of Spades, and had gotten even more wasted despite Dominic’s objections. It had deteriorated to the point of Dominic calling Martine, but when he’d learned she was at a family event she couldn’t leave, he’d been forced to call Natasha to come take Levi home. She had stayed with Levi until Dominic could get off work, pick Rebel up from his own apartment, and relieve her.
Levi had spent the morning prostrate on the bathroom floor in between bouts of vomiting. Though Dominic kind of enjoyed taking care of him, his comment that he was going to be late meeting Rohan had thrown Levi into a sudden and inexplicable rage, ending with Levi pegging a toilet paper roll at his head and telling him to get the hell out. At that point, Dominic had been happy to leave.
Dominic and Rohan made small talk while a server brought Dominic a cup of coffee. Once they’d ordered food, Rohan opened his padfolio and uncapped a pen.
“As I mentioned earlier, I’m interested in your unique perspective on the Seven of Spades. You first became involved in the case when you found Matthew Goodwin’s body?”
“Yeah. He’d skipped bail and been missing for weeks, but then his credit card was used at a gas station, and I was able to track him down.” Dominic dumped three packets of sugar into his coffee, followed by a generous helping of milk. “Turned out he was already dead and the Seven of Spades had used his card themselves. They wanted the body found, but he’d hidden himself too well.”
Cash Plays Page 16
