by Carter Blake
He’s got a point. “I can handle this myself.”
The SUV skids to a stop at a red light, and he turns to face me with a steely glare. “Seriously, Addison? Because, to me, there’s a man stalking you like a wild animal, and you aren’t exactly doing a bang-up job of keeping yourself safe.” His eyes narrow. “Have you even involved the police?”
“It seems I just did,” I snap.
“Don’t get smart with me.” His jaw clenches, and I can hear the edge in his voice. “In New Hampshire. Did you?”
“No, all right? Is that what you want to hear? That I’m a stupid woman for not handling this properly? That part of me wants to believe this will all just fucking go away?” I’m yelling, bursting at the seams with frustration, but I can’t stop. “I don’t need you and your white goddamn horse to swoop in and save me, Dominic! If my father is going to kill me next, it’ll be because I let him. Not because you failed. So, don’t insert yourself into this mess, okay? I don’t need you to end up blaming yourself if something happens.”
His brows rise just as the streetlight turns green. “No, I suppose you don’t. Sounds like you’re harboring enough blame for the both of us.”
We’re both quiet as Dominic pulls the SUV into a parking spot outside a tall apartment building on the other side of the city. He had ignored my protests only moments before, and used the radio hidden under the dashboard to call in a couple armed cops in unmarked cruisers to stand guard outside the perimeter of the building. He gave only a vague description of my father based on the information I provided him—the description of the man I’d known years before—as I haven’t seen him since the trial.
And I don’t want to.
Dominic doesn’t give the dispatch operator or the officers an explanation, and I guess when he’s the chief, he doesn’t really have to.
He leads me inside, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings for anything amiss, and the gun is still tucked inside his jacket, at the ready. We take the elevator to the twenty-seventh floor, and I’m not sure I’ve ever been in any building that high.
I’m not prepared for the view of his apartment. It seems like it’s out of a movie. The entire far wall is a mass of windows, a clear frame for the bright, blinking lights of the city below. From this height, the traffic and movement along the sidewalks resemble the scurrying of ants.
An outside world that I’m not a part of.
Because I’m up here. In this glass-walled palace.
With him.
I hear the click of the lock, then another. I turn to see exactly how many locks he has installed on his door, just as his arm comes around me and tugs me to him. His mouth finds mine, and it’s enough to make me melt against his chest. His tongue gently nudges past my lips, caressing my own with the gentle familiarity of a long-lost lover. His body seems to already know mine, and mine responds with the same physical recognition.
My camera bags slide down my arm as my strength weakens from his touch, and I gasp, not wanting them to fall to the floor, no matter how padded the bag is. It’s enough to break the moment, and Dominic pulls away slightly.
His callused finger brushes gently against my bottom lip. “I’m sorry I snapped at you in the SUV.”
If this is how he apologizes, I’m going to have to come up with a few ways to keep pissing him off from time to time. “There are other parts of the night in the SUV that are fresher in my memory,” I say with a soft grin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Silence ensues, but his thumb stays on my lip, and it keeps me rooted in place and breathing in shallow pants.
“Are you really okay with staying here tonight?” Dominic whispers.
“Does it really matter if I am?” The corner of my mouth twitches upward.
“No, but I’d like to think I’m not forcing you to stay here against your will.”
I playfully nip at his thumb. “You’re not.”
“That’s my—” He pauses, clearing his throat. “That’s what I like to hear.”
My eyes widen a bit. Was he about to say what I think he was? The air seems thick with the tension between us. “Got anything to drink?”
“Water, and bourbon.”
I scrunch up my nose. “No in-between, huh?”
“No, ma’am.”
His politeness makes me grin. “Better get me some bourbon, then.”
“That’s what I like to hear, too.”
Chapter 8
DOMINIC
Fuck, I’ve really got to get my head back in the game.
That’s my girl. The words weren’t only in my head this time. Instead, they’d almost escaped my lips.
She’s not mine.
Hell, I only met her this morning.
But, goddamn it, I want her. I want to taste the sweetness of her mouth again. I want her to leave red lipstick stains on my skin. I want her in my bed, with no barriers between the softness of her skin and the inked décor of mine. And I want to be inside her so badly I can barely pour this fucking shot of bourbon without trembling from the desire.
What the hell is Addison Kent doing to me?
“Do you want to tell me a bit more about this maniac of a father you’ve got?” Cop stuff. That’s what I need to focus on to keep my cock from aching so painfully.
“No.”
My apartment has an open concept, so I can see her as she stares longingly out the wall of windows into the chaos that is New York City. I close the gap between us and hand her the glass, then stand beside her. “Okay, any other ideas, then?” I cast a sideways glance toward her, smirking.
If she doesn’t have any, I’ve got a few of my own I’d like to suggest.
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” She turns to me, throws her head back as she swallows the shot in one gulp, and then bends to set the glass on the coffee table. “I want to see your tattoos.”
So much for keeping my aching cock at bay. “You do, huh?” I can’t take my eyes off her, but I don’t move either.
“Please, Dominic?”
That voice, and my name on those dark red lips. Fuck, now she’s just doing it on purpose. I set my glass on the table beside hers; I have no intention of drinking it, anyway. If the officers outside call me to report something suspicious, I need to be sharp and alert.
Maybe I need to be sharp and alert when it comes to Addison, too, because she sure as hell has the art of seduction figured out.
“Which ones?” My voice comes out hoarse, a betrayal of my body’s reaction to her.
She steps closer. “Take your shirt off.”
I bring my hands up to do just that, but her own fingers touch the top button first. Deftly, she undoes it, then the next, and I let her continue until she’s able to slide her hands across my bare chest and push the shirt off my shoulders onto the floor.
“You’re beautiful,” she murmurs, her eyes scanning the intricate designs on my chest and abdomen with the scrutiny of an art collector.
“I’m supposed to be saying that to you, Princess,” I chuckle.
Her gaze comes up to meet mine. “But, you are, Dominic. You’re an artistic masterpiece.”
“Well, I wouldn’t—”
“Let me photograph you.”
Her request catches me off guard, and I’m not sure what to say.
“You can keep the rest of your clothes on,” she grins. “I promise. I just…Has anyone ever done photographs of your ink before?”
“I can’t say they have.”
“Then I want to be the first.”
Her smile is so wide now, and there’s so much passion in her eyes, there’s no way I can turn her down. “What kind of photographer are you?” I tease. “And don’t lie and tell me you’re a photojournalist, because I remember the way you almost bit my head off this morning when I referred to you as one.”
Addison smirks, shrugging. “I do freelance work to pay the bills, but my real interest and passion lies in the boudoir and pin-up style of work I do.�
�
She’s beautiful, and she does lingerie photography for a living. “Jesus Christ, Addison, that’s hot,” I admit.
“So are you. Now…” Her cheeks have a pink tinge to them, but she whirls around to look around the room, scoping it out. “Go put a pair of jeans on and meet me back out here.”
I arch a brow at her, but I obey.
When I come back out of my bedroom, she’s got her camera out and some of my furniture moved out of the way. The lights are still bright, but dimmer than when I’d left. She’s taken off her jacket and sandals, revealing only a white spaghetti-strapped tank top. Paired with her jeans and bare feet, with her dark hair pulled into a messy bun on her head, I practically groan as the sight of her makes me want to push her onto the sofa and take her.
Seeing me emerge from the bedroom, Addison grabs me by the hand and pulls me toward the wall of windows. She’s all business now, I can tell. “Lean back…a bit more…turn your chin…now tuck your hand into your pocket…”
Within a few minutes, it isn’t even awkward anymore. Honestly, I begin to enjoy having her snap away on her camera, then come back close to me to rearrange my body into the ideal pose. It’s invigorating to watch her in her element, so consumed and passionate about the image she’s trying to capture.
And that image is me.
You’ve already got me, babe. You’ve captured me. Hook, line, and fucking sinker.
She goes through the same routine after instructing me to sit on the sofa, one arm slung over the back to display the tribal designs on the inside of my biceps, and my legs stretched out in front of me.
And it’s all fun and fucking games until I hear her ask, “Can we do a few shots in your bedroom?”
Bam! Instant hard-on. “The bourbon’s in the kitchen. Grab your glass, and we can do shots there.”
Thankfully, she laughs. “You know what I mean, Dominic.”
Oh, I know what you mean, believe me. And I know what I mean, too. If I didn’t joke about it, I was going to pounce on her again, the same way I did in the SUV. “If that’s what you want, sure.”
She grabs my hand and drags me in the direction of the bedroom she’d seen me come from earlier. Judging by the look on her face, she doesn’t expect the wall of windows to continue into the bedroom, and her eyes widen.
“Good God, you really are watching over this entire city all the time, aren’t you? This apartment is phenomenal.” Addison is standing dumbstruck in the doorway, staring wide-eyed across the room.
Outside, the moon is high in the blackened sky, but the city lights drown it out, muting its light. New York City really is the city that never sleeps.
“So, what’s next, Little Miss Photographer?” I grin, but it’s forced. I need to get this over with and get her out of my bedroom…fast. I’m already fantasizing about what she’d look like with her porcelain skin against the backdrop of my white cotton sheets as a mix of the moonlight and cityscape cast shadows across the curves and contours of her body.
Playfully, Addison pushes me gently backward until the backs of my knees are touching the bed, then she applies pressure to my shoulders. “Sit down.”
I do what I’m told, and my gaze is transfixed on her as she backs up slightly, sizing me up. It’s my turn to feel hunted as she tilts her head from one side to the other, taking in every part of me as she decides on her desired pose. She’s a shark, circling me, getting closer and closer, and no matter what, I can’t prepare myself for the moment she’ll strike.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she reaches forward and pulls my knees apart slightly. “Lean back just a bit.”
My breath hitches, but I listen to her. When the fuck did it get so hot in here?
“Look toward the window, Dominic.”
I do, if only for the moment of reprieve it allows me. One more minute of this…
I hear the camera click a few times. “Now, look at me.”
I turn, and I have to draw my gaze downward to find her.
Fuck. She’s on her knees in front of me.
I can’t breathe, and my hardness grows more painful and more desperate as she crawls from one spot on the floor to the other, instructing me softly how to move and where to look.
That’s it, baby, crawl a little closer. Let me touch you.
I can’t stop the dirty thoughts running rampant in my mind, and if she doesn’t want me thinking them, she should stay the fuck off the floor. Crawling around like a pretty little sex kitten in front of me is a sure-fire way to light up the gutters of my brain.
“Addison…” I choke out, but she leans forward, between my parted knees—fuck!—and presses a soft finger to my lips.
“Just one more, Chief. Please.”
I can see the amusement in her eyes. She’s enjoying herself, and for more reasons than just because she loves to take pictures. She’s teasing me. On purpose.
When she pushes me back onto the bed and instructs me to put my hands behind my head, I obey without a word. But, when she climbs onto the bed, stands up, and places one foot on either side of my thighs, looking down at me through the viewfinder of her camera, I realize two things.
The first is that I’m about to lose the last thread of control I’m holding on to.
The second is that, judging by the sexy little smirk I can see on those pouty lips of hers, she wants me to.
She must, because no woman would crawl between a man’s legs on the floor in front of him, or straddle his hips as he’s stretched out on his bed with the hardest erection known in the history of humankind, if she wasn’t getting off on this just as much as he is.
“Addison…” It sounds exactly as it’s meant to. A plea. Yes, I’m not above begging at this point.
Her camera clicks once, twice, then she pulls it away from her face, letting it dangle from the strap around her neck. “Y-yeah?” she asks, looking down at me.
Is that uncertainty I hear? Good. Because thirty minutes of a photo shoot with her has been like foreplay, and her next move will determine where things go from here.
“You’ve got two choices, Princess.” I can see her chest stop moving, and I decide she must be holding her breath. But her gaze never wavers.
How bold.
“The first is to get off the bed, and off of me, and I can meet you out in the living room in a few minutes.”
Addison hesitates, but she doesn’t move. And neither do I as I hold her gaze without so much as a blink. I can feel the heat coursing through my veins, and it must be evident in my eyes because there’s a smouldering element to her stare now, too, as she awaits my other option.
There’s a grit to my voice that I don’t intend, but be damned if I can contain it when she’s got me so hard and so bothered that I can barely thinking straight.
“The second is to put that camera down and—”
She slips the camera from her neck unceremoniously and steps down off the bed, making me lose my train of thought.
“And what?” she counters, her eyes fiery now, challenging me. But she doesn’t wait for me to respond, and instead disappears out of the room with only a shake of her head, and I’m left laying there wondering what in the ever-loving fuck just happened.
Chapter 9
ADDISON
I’m oxygen deprived, I’ve got to be. There’s no way in hell I’ve lasted the past half an hour staring at Dominic’s hard, beautifully inked body without forgetting to breathe. Just outside his bedroom, I stop and take in a huge breath, and the sudden intake of air makes me dizzy.
I shake it off, and go in search of that bourbon in the kitchen.
I’m not blind. It’s obvious how turned on Dominic is. The proof isn’t only in the growing bulge of his jeans, but also in the dark, intoxicated look in his pale blue eyes. He hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol all day, but he’s definitely drunk.
With lust.
And I know how he feels. Because I know how I feel. And I can’t stay in that room one second longer with
out making a mistake.
“Addison?”
The bottle of bourbon is in my hand as I follow his voice, and my eyes run smack dab into his perfectly chiseled chest and abs. It’s all I can do not to groan. Instead, I say the only thing I’m thinking at that particularly moment. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
Dominic arches one brow at me. “No one said you had to.”
“But you want to.” I’m staring at the bourbon bottle, unable to look him in the eye.
“I think you do, too.”
My gaze snaps up to him. “Of course, I do! Look at you! Who wouldn’t?” I might sound angry, but my outburst makes one corner of his mouth turn up, and I roll my eyes as he closes the gap between us. He doesn’t touch me, but I back up against the kitchen cupboard anyway, trying to keep as much distance as possible between us.
“No one said you had to,” he says again, ducking his head to look at me.
“But I want to, and…”
“And that’s the problem?”
“Yes! I just met you this morning, for Christ sake!”
He nods, pressing his lips together to suppress his obvious amusement. “You’re not wrong about that. It’s fine, Addison. Calm down, all right?” He reaches up to smooth the hair back from my face, and I flinch, making his smirk falter slightly.
“I don’t sleep with men I’ve just met,” I say, more for my own benefit than his.
“Dually noted.”
There’s still a humor lighting up his eyes, and I feel a moment of white hot anger strike through me. I’m glad this is so fucking funny to him.
“Have you ever brought a co-worker or someone involved in one of your cases home with you?”
Dominic’s features turn hard. “Seeing as you’re neither someone I work with, nor someone involved in one of my active cases, I don’t see how that’s relevant. But no, Addison, I haven’t.” He pauses, then adds, “I rarely bring anyone here. Hell, I’m rarely here.”
“Then why am I here?”
He sighs. “Because it’s safer than your place. And, I guess, for you, I made an exception.”
