A Cop's Second Chance

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A Cop's Second Chance Page 11

by Sharon Hartley


  For half a second he wavered. He could and maybe should ask the standard clichéd question: “Are you sure?”

  But when was Aleta ever not sure about anything? She quite obviously knew exactly what she was doing and, even better, what she wanted him to do. Yeah, he could tell her he wasn’t the kind of man who stuck to one woman, but she didn’t appear to be in the mood to listen.

  Because she’d already allowed her shirt to slide off her arms and pool at her feet. She stood before him proudly with those gorgeous full breasts still partially hidden but waiting for him to enjoy. Her nipples had peaked and stood out like beacons beneath the flimsy material of her bra. Damn but he wanted to put his mouth on her.

  She turned her graceful back to him and looked over a shoulder, which featured a small tattoo of a red rose.

  “Will you help me with my bra?”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.”

  When he unsnapped the lacy confection, the warm skin beneath his fingers felt like velvet. He pulled her against his chest, reaching around to caress and hold her breasts, gently caressing her taut nipples. She released a sigh, as if she’d wanted him to touch her as much as he’d longed to feel her warmth.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” he asked.

  “Over there.” She motioned toward a door with her head.

  He picked her up and carried her inside.

  * * *

  DESPITE HER DESIRE to be held by Sean, Aleta expected him to be quick, for him to achieve his release with quick thrusts accompanied by guttural noises, ending with a howl and collapse on her body when finished. That had been her experience with Bubba, the only man she’d ever had sex with. It’d never been a whole lot of fun for her.

  Especially since he fell asleep immediately, leaving her wanting. She’d never known what she wanted, but she knew it was something more. Of course, she was always high and a bit confused about the proceedings, so what did she know?

  But wow. Just wow. Sean appeared to be in no hurry. He took his time with her, caressing her body, kissing her everywhere, touching her in places she’d never been touched by anyone. Everything felt so—well, good, so dreamily sensual, that she couldn’t make herself lie still. She moved her body against his. She had to. She loved the feel of her skin against Sean’s hard hot strength. The feelings he stirred in her made her want to touch him back and love him in the same intimate way he loved her.

  And he definitely liked whatever she did. She didn’t want what was happening to her mind, her body, to her whole spirit to ever end. She wanted to revel in this delight forever.

  But then Sean licked his way low on her belly and an intense urgency took hold of her. She wanted him to hurry, to complete their union. She needed to feel him inside her, knew that he would fill her totally, certain that their joining would somehow heal her, supply whatever was missing in her.

  But still he took his time. She watched as he found a condom in his wallet and sheathed himself.

  When he entered her, he held her gaze, looking deep into her eyes as if trying to read her thoughts. Something shifted, some feeling she couldn’t name, and she vaguely wondered what had just happened. She’d never felt this close, this connected to another person in her entire life.

  He moved slowly inside her at first. Too slowly. She used her hips to encourage him, increasing the pressure that steadily built in her core. She needed something to happen but she didn’t know what she—and then suddenly a cascade of utter deliciousness surged through her, taking over her limbs, her consciousness, and she understood what she’d been missing, what sexual release meant.

  She closed her eyes against the sheer pleasure of her climax, and felt Sean achieve his own. He thrust inside her one last time and touched his forehead to hers in a sweet gesture of intimacy that acknowledged their union. That what had happened between them had been special.

  Eyes still shut, she listened as her breath and Sean’s returned to normal.

  Although it didn’t seem possible anything would ever be normal again.

  Sean withdrew from her, disposed of his condom and returned to lie beside her again. He encouraged her to place her cheek on his chest, which was lightly dusted with brown hair. She snuggled against his warmth. She knew he’d start snoring any minute, but this felt too nice to bother her. Besides, she needed time to process what had just happened.

  Had it been special for Sean, too? Or was sex always like this for him? Maybe she’d been with the wrong partner. Maybe you had to care about the person you were with, and Bubba had never really cared about her.

  But that logic would mean she cared about Sean. How could she care about a violent man who wanted to throw her kids in jail?

  Maybe Father Mac was right. She had prejudged Sean. She’d expected the sex to be fast and violent. Instead, he had truly made love to her, giving her an awakening of sorts.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Sean said.

  “I thought you were asleep,” she said.

  “Asleep? Hardly.” He laughed softly and trailed a finger down her arm, prompting goose bumps to spring to life. “How could I sleep when every nerve ending in my body is on full alert?”

  “Me, too,” she whispered.

  He kissed the top of her head and gave her a little hug.

  She sighed. No wonder her Street Sisters had enjoyed having sex with their boyfriends so much. Intimacy after good sex was almost as special as the union itself. Almost. She grinned. Such naughty thoughts for a good Catholic girl.

  But that was what sex with Sean had felt like to her, a union between them.

  After a moment or two, he chuckled, a rumbling that vibrated pleasantly against her cheek.

  “Nicely done.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said, surprised by his comment considering how little sexual experience she had. She certainly hadn’t used any advanced techniques. She didn’t know any.

  “Hey, that’s not what I meant,” he said, sounding offended.

  She lifted her head to see his eyes. “What did you mean?”

  “Your seduction. Was it meant to distract me from asking why you’re so nervous?”

  “Oh.” She placed her cheek against Sean’s warmth again. “No. That was just a bonus.”

  His chest rumbled again. “Why is it that everything you say surprises me today?”

  “I guess it’s that kind of a day.”

  After a breath or two he asked, “Please tell me who you’re afraid of.”

  She rolled onto her back. “Do we have to have this conversation now?”

  “When do you want to have it?”

  “Never.”

  “There are a lot of things you don’t like to talk about,” Sean said.

  She propped her head up on a bent arm and looked at him, which was a mistake. Looking at Sean made her want him again.

  “I don’t like even thinking about him. He’s an animal, a sociopath, and he got me hooked on meth.”

  “Are you’re talking about an ex-boyfriend?”

  She sighed. Was Bubba what most people called a boyfriend? A demon was closer to reality.

  She didn’t want to confess the awful truth even after all this time. She knew it was because of the meth, but how could she have been with a monster like Bubba?

  “Yes,” she whispered. Sean didn’t react to her admission. He hadn’t jumped out of her bed and fled.

  “Was he in a gang?”

  “Some kind of anti-government group called the Warriors for Self Rule.”

  “The Warriors,” Sean said. “Most of them are dead now.”

  “Thank goodness. But he was a minor player anyway, more interested in dealing coke than fighting the establishment.”

  “A true believer.”

  “I was with him when he killed two young men. I was high, as usual in those days, but I understoo
d clearly what was going down.” Aleta took a deep breath to calm the waver in her voice. “That was the worst night of my life, a horror I almost didn’t recover from.”

  “But you did.” Sean gathered her close, a balm for her tormented soul. His hug and reassurance was the kindest, the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her, coming at the exact right moment. She closed her eyes against hot tears and choked back a sob. Sean didn’t hate her. He knew the worst, and he forgave her.

  “Testifying against him got me a deal with the prosecutor. The Beast got two life sentences.”

  “But you’re still afraid of him, aren’t you?” Sean asked. “That’s why you’re so cautious?”

  “He wants to kill me.”

  “But you said he got two life sentences. So he’s in prison where he belongs.”

  “Bubba is not in prison anymore.”

  Sean’s eyebrows shot up. “Bubba?”

  “Bubba the Beast was his favored name.”

  Sean frowned. Where had he heard that name before? “Wait a minute.”

  “And the Beast escaped two days ago.”

  * * *

  “WHAT?” SEAN DEMANDED.

  Beside him, Aleta stiffened, her entire body reacting to the harshness of his voice. He’d frightened her. Good job, Sean. The woman was already frightened enough. He took a breath to calm himself.

  “Your ex is the con who killed four people during his escape from Raiford?” he asked carefully.

  “Unless there were two prisoners that escaped.”

  “No,” Sean said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Only one.”

  He’d been aware of the escape, but it had occurred after his undercover assignment so he hadn’t paid enough attention. Raiford was 350 miles away and everyone in his department had assumed the escapee would be apprehended quickly, but that hadn’t happened.

  Now Aleta’s behavior made more sense. If he’d run her name, he’d know all this.

  He sat up in bed and brought her with him.

  “An escaped convict is the reason you’re being so cautious?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” she said, tightening the sheet to cover her bare breasts. “From the moment I heard he was on the lam.”

  “How long have you known he was out?”

  “That’s why Father Mac came to the gym the other day, to tell me.”

  “So you bought pepper spray?” he asked in disgust.

  “I already had a couple of canisters. I replaced them with new ones to be safe.”

  “Do you own a gun?”

  “No, and I don’t want one. I’m afraid of guns.”

  “Of course you are,” Sean murmured. Bleeding hearts were all alike. Until they bled out.

  “You need to change your habits. Move into the women’s shelter.”

  “That’s what Father Mac suggested, but that could put our clients in danger.”

  Sean wanted to yell he didn’t care about her clients, he cared only about Aleta, but knew that wasn’t a good argument. Besides, it wasn’t true anymore. He did care what happened to the people at the center.

  He dredged up the details he’d heard about the manhunt.

  “Were you aware Burnett is working his way south?” Sean asked.

  “Oh, God.” She closed her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “He’s stealing vehicles. He leaves trace evidence behind when he abandons them.”

  “That sounds like him. Bubba was never very smart.”

  “Smart enough to break out of a maximum security prison.”

  “I doubt if he came up with that plan,” she murmured.

  “I don’t like this,” Sean said.

  “Believe me, I don’t like it much either.”

  “Damn, Aleta. Why didn’t you tell me about this threat?”

  “You’re not my bodyguard.”

  “I am now.”

  Sean rolled out of bed and stepped into his jeans.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to get to my precinct,” he said.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I need concrete details about Burnett’s actions, try to guess his next move.”

  “Good luck with that,” she said, pulling the sheet tighter around her chest. “I could never figure out what was going on inside his head.”

  Sean zipped up and stared at her. “You said he threatened to kill you.”

  “He considered my testimony a betrayal.”

  “I’m sure he did.” Sean shook his head. He needed to learn everything he could about Robert Burnett. Bubba the Beast? Shit. A murderer was killing his way toward Aleta.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked.

  “I can’t hide.” She reached an arm out to him. “What do you expect me to do? You saw how careful I’m being.”

  “Not careful enough to protect yourself against a six-time murderer.” Sean narrowed his eyes. “Six dead bodies that we know of. There are likely more.”

  She nodded and looked down.

  He needed to figure something out. Would she consider moving in with him until Burnett was apprehended? Did he want her to? That was a line he always swore he’d never cross.

  “I need a plan to protect you.”

  “I didn’t ask you to protect me.”

  “Well, that’s too bad because I’m going to protect you whether you like it or not.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BUBBA WOKE UP with a throbbing headache, one of the worst he’d ever had. Each time his heart beat, someone pounded a boulder against his skull.

  He sat up, but a wave of intense pain forced him back to the pile of stinking rags beneath him. Where the hell was he?

  When the pounding receded, he sat up more slowly, and another odor assaulted his senses. One impossible to mistake. Something close by was dead and rotting. A rat?

  He leaned against the wall and surveyed the room, struggling to remember. Oh, right. He’d offed a homeless dude. During a search of the squatter’s bedding, he’d found a huge rock of crack. He’d fired it up immediately, wanting to party.

  Lighting the dude’s pipe was the last thing he remembered.

  Shit. How long had he been out?

  Scant light filtered in around the edges of the boarded-up windows. He checked the watch he’d taken from the guard. Four fifteen. He’d slept around the clock. That crack must have been some powerful shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have smoked the whole rock. He should have saved some for later.

  He pressed his back against the wall behind him and leveraged himself to his feet. Moving slowly made it easier to deal with the pain in his head. He walked to the doorway and peeked outside. The truck was still there. Good.

  Time to move on. He had a new idea. Damn, but he was smart.

  He dragged the corpse to the center of the room and buried it in rags, the newspapers and other debris the dead guy had collected. Seemed right the bum would go out in a blaze of glory fueled by his few possessions.

  He checked the garage looking for a gas can, whooping when he spotted a five-foot piece of faded green hose instead. He grabbed it from the wall over an empty work bench and moved back to the body. He scooped up a couple of crushed cans, straightened them out a little and moved outside to the truck.

  He stuck one end of the hose into the fuel tank and sucked hard until he tasted gas in his mouth. Cursing, he spat and put the end of the hose into one can and then another, the tangy odor of the fuel mushrooming around him.

  Back inside, he sprinkled gasoline over the pile of rags and newspapers.

  He needed to make sure the body beneath burned real good. Good enough that the pigs couldn’t identify who had died right away.

  He created a trail of fuel from the body to the door. He flicked the lighter next to the gasoline, but the small flam
e went out before it reached the pile of rags. He didn’t have enough gas, and he really didn’t want that shit in his mouth again.

  He rolled up some old newspapers to make a torch, lit it and held it to the pile. The rags shot into flames. Just to make sure, he lit a second fire on the opposite side. A spark flared and burned his left forearm, pissing him off.

  He watched as the flames merged into one large fire. Soon the stink of burning flesh filled the room. Heat seared the skin on his cheeks as greedy flames rose high into the air, flicking against the rafters in the ceiling. The whole house would go up, which would bring the fire department.

  Bubba backed out of the room. He turned and jogged toward town, leaving the stolen truck behind the house. He’d find a new vehicle and continue south. With any luck, the cops would think he was the dead guy inside the house.

  They’d call off the manhunt. By the time they figured it out, Delilah would be dead, too. Aleta, he reminded himself. The bitch’s name is Aleta.

  * * *

  ALETA STARED AT Sean as he buttoned his shirt. She didn’t want him to leave. And not because of her desperate need for physical contact. He’d satisfied that quite nicely, thank you very much.

  So nicely she wanted him to satisfy her again. She had a lot of catching up to do in the satisfaction department.

  “Don’t go,” she said. “I’ll make some dinner.”

  “Sounds nice,” Sean said. “But I’ve got to get the latest report on Burnett. Since I wasn’t on patrol, I haven’t been paying attention.”

  “I have a steak in the freezer I could thaw,” Aleta offered.

  He sat beside her on the bed and cupped her cheek. “Can I have a rain check?”

  She placed her palm on his hand. “I guess.”

  He kissed her, a sweet kiss, a goodbye kiss, damn him, without any heat. She wanted the heat again. What’s happened to me?

  “Gotta go.” He stood and strode toward the bedroom door where he paused and looked back at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You need to lock the door behind me.”

 

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