by Freya Barker
“Because of your case. I was afraid you’d come barging into the hospital and maybe mess everything up.”
She may have a point; my hands behind her back are clenched into fists.
“Was he on his way out the door too? Is that why you were parked out front freaking out?”
“No. His shift just started. I just...I was fine driving home, I swear, but I pulled up here and I just couldn’t bring myself to get out of the car.”
“Monday we’re going into the police station to file an official report. Did he leave any marks on you?”
“Not really. Just from the hot coffee.”
When she pulls down the front of her shirt, showing angry red skin from the hollow of her throat running down between her breasts; I have to fight another wave of anger.
“We’ll still take a few pictures. Take off your shirt,” I grind out, fishing my phone from my pocket. Trying to stay impassive at the sight of the markings as far down as her belly button; I snap a few pictures when I notice her trembling.
Dropping my phone on the counter, I pull her back in my arms and she burrows her face in my shirt.
“Sweetheart, I have to go back into the office for at least a couple of hours, but I don’t want to leave you here. Why don’t you pack your bag now? I’ll drive you to my place, set you up there, and go in to finish up what I need to do. I won’t be too long, we’ll get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow morning we head out.”
She tilts back her head. “Where were we going again?”
“Nice try, smartass.” I grin down at her. “Now get packing. I’m gonna call Damian to let him know I’ll be a few minutes late.”
Half an hour later, Bella is set up on my couch, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s I just stocked my freezer with in her hand, and a movie on TV.
I didn’t tell her staying at my place this weekend had been the intent all along. My place is right downtown, with just about everything within walking distance. I’d planned for us to do all the things people do when they come to Durango. All Bella seems to have done since moving here is work.
When I had Damian on the phone earlier, I’d already filled him in on what happened, but he still grilled me when I walked into the office.
“Fuck. We’re gonna need to put someone on her too. We may need to call in some more bodies, we’re running short.”
“No need,” I assure him. “She’ll stay with me at my place this weekend.”
He glares at me, but then seems to shake it off.
“Fine. But I’m telling you, we better see some results soon. I’m about ready for another fucking vacation.”
CHAPTER 25
BELLA
I wake up to the sound of muted voices.
It takes me a second to look around and get my bearings. Jasper’s style is what you might call minimalistic, especially in the bedroom. Basically a large bed, two floating shelves on either side doing duty as nightstands, and one dresser that doesn’t even have knobs on the drawers. The only things hanging on the wall are a flat-screen TV over said dresser and a large black and white print of a lone tree, standing on the edge of a cliff, over the bed.
It feels like waking up on a spaceship.
I discovered last night that Jas is very tidy. Not a cup or plate left in the sink nor a stray sock on the floor somewhere. No personal items left on the counter, no stack of mail, no take-out menus pinned to the fridge door. The apartment looks like one of those model units. Either the man rarely spends time here, or he’s a little OCD.
For someone usually wearing ripped jeans, scuffed boots, and a mop of dirty blond hair that’s probably better suited to a beach bum than an FBI agent, this place was not what I expected.
Swinging my legs out of bed, I notice the only thing out of place; my overnight bag in the middle of the floor, contents already spilling out everywhere. It seems almost symbolic of the chaos I seem to bring to his life.
I snag some leggings and an oversized tee from my bag and pad into the adjoining bathroom, where I left my toiletry bag on the counter last night. The plan was to have a shower, but that quickly changes when the scent of coffee hits my nostrils.
Last night I never saw or heard Jasper come in. By the time the movie was done, I was already half asleep. The only way I know he got in bed with me, at some point, is the imprint of his head on the pillow next to mine.
His head turns and eyes zoom in on me the moment I step out of the bedroom, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth as he stalks toward me. His hands cup my face and he leans in to kiss me sweetly.
“Morning,” he mumbles against my lips.
“Morning,” I echo.
“Morning.”
I peek over Jasper’s shoulder to find my brother leaning against the kitchen counter, coffee in hand and eyes rolled to the ceiling.
Awkward.
Jasper doesn’t seem fazed and tucks me under his arm, leading me to a stool at the kitchen island.
“Coffee?”
“Please. Hi,” I direct at Damian. “You’re out and about early?”
“It’s a miracle I slept at all,” he grumbles. “I spent most of the night going over cell phone records. Do you have any idea how fucking much time a chief of police spends on his phone? All on the tax payer’s dime too.”
“Find anything useful?”
My brother and Jasper exchange a look at my question.
“It’s not like she hasn’t already picked up enough to give her a good idea of the scope of this case,” Jasper points out to Damian while handing me my coffee.
“I guess. Well, aside from the fact the man spends an uncomfortable amount of time calling one nine hundred lines, I managed to find a few interesting ones he made to Daddy Lipczyk. One or two just after the second shooting, but a whole cluster of them around the time we were looking for you.”
“He was probably feeling the heat,” Jasper suggests.
“Likely. Also noteworthy were the incoming calls he got from the doctor’s cell phone. Those started two weeks ago, the day after he assaulted your friend in the parking lot. I’m guessing he was trying to get a jump on her, anticipating her to file a report.”
“None of that would exactly be a surprise though, would it?”
“Not really,” Jasper answers first. “But it helps pin down a timeframe, a sequence of events. We don’t want to leave any stone unturned, not when we’re trying to bring down the chief of police. This is the kind of tedious grunt work that goes to anchoring down our whole case against him.”
“Well, I should get back to my grunt work,” my brother announces, rinsing his cup and loading it the dishwasher. “My next stack of records is for 2013. I can’t fucking wait.” He rounds the island, puts his hand on my neck, and leans down to kiss top of my head. “Gonna have to get used to not being the top of your speed dial anymore, Sis. Knowing he took that spot,” he says with a nod in Jasper’s direction, “makes it a little easier.”
“Stay in touch,” Jas asks my brother as he walks him to the door.
“Will do. I hope you get to enjoy your weekend of leisure before the shit hits the fan. Show my sister a good time.”
“I intend to.”
He’s off to a good start doing just that, not ten minutes after my brother leaves, in his nice oversized shower.
My back against the tiles, one leg up over his shoulder, my hand tangled in his hair, I’m having a really good time. As his eyes burn on mine from below, I realize he’s all about my pleasure. All about the giving, about making sure I get what I need, and so far I’ve been greedily taking.
This relationship revolves entirely around me.
Jasper called me a princess once, shortly after we met, and I never realized how true that was until just now.
It’s not that I feel entitled in any way, it’s that I don’t question it. I take things for granted, and if there’s one thing I don’t ever want to do, it’s take this man for granted.
Perhaps it’s not an appropriate time to t
hink about your sex life as a metaphor for your relationship—while your boyfriend’s mouth is between your legs—but now that the thought is there, I can’t ignore it.
I lift my leg from his shoulder and push at his head. His eyes look up with concern as he lets me go.
“It’s my turn,” I announce softly but firmly. I reach down to help him to his feet and turn him so now his back is to the wall.
“You don’t have to—” he starts, but I shut him up with finger to his mouth, before lifting up for a heady kiss that tastes like sin.
I slowly explore Jasper’s body, memorizing every response when my lips or hands discover a sensitive spot. The taste of him, the sounds he makes, the sight of his slightly parted lips as he looks down on me. Even as I’m the one sitting on my knees at his feet, his eyes hold worship.
The moment my lips slide over the crown of his rigid cock, I watch his eyelids lower and his mouth drop open in surrender. I don’t take my eyes off him as I test, taste, and tease using all my senses, until his knees start to buckle and his hot cum shoots down my throat.
Jasper
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
I grin at Bella’s reaction when we pull into the parking lot of Mild to Wild Rafting on the north side of town.
“Come on.” I get out, round the car, and open the passenger side where Bella is still staring openmouthed at the rows of paddles and life jackets. “Let’s get you outfitted.”
She turns to me with fire in her eyes. “You do realize I just spent half an hour doing my hair and putting on makeup, right?”
Oh, I know. Took everything out of me not to spoil the surprise and tell her not to bother.
After the best shower sex I have ever had in my whole fucking life, I fed her toasted bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon, and told her to dress comfortably. Little did I know that even knee-long leggings and a slouchy shirt had to be paired with makeup and good hair. I don’t even see the need; she’s fucking beautiful first thing in the morning, nothing on her face and her hair a sexy mess.
“You’ll have a blast,” I promise her, ignoring her complaint.
“I’ll look a mess,” she grumbles, as she takes my offered hand and laces her fingers with mine.
It takes us fifteen minutes to fill out the disclaimer forms and get rigged up in wetsuits. An old school bus drives up and the small crowd waiting starts getting on.
“Us too, Squirt.” I have to nudge Bella onto the bus. I’m starting to get worried I may have miscalculated this outing. So far she seems less than enthused.
When the bus stops at the edge of the Animas River and Bella spots the trailer with rafts already parked there, she turns to me.
“You really want me to do this?”
The question is not asked in a challenging way, but more like a gentle probing. Rafting is something I’ve taken up during the spring and summer since coming to Durango. A little bit of adventure for those days I need a break from the office. I was thinking it might be something we’d both enjoy.
“Try,” I suggest. “If at any time you decide you’ve had enough, I’ll get us to shore. Your call.”
“Okay.”
Her answer is firm and she doesn’t hesitate getting off the bus. Even helps me unload a raft from the trailer—to the enjoyment of one of the rafting guides—who is a little too preoccupied with her ass for my liking. The moment we drop the raft on the river’s edge, I stalk over to her, and with my hand on her ass I kiss her deeply, never taking my eyes off the little punk.
“What was that?” she asks when I release her lips.
“Just a thank you for trying this with me,” I lie through my teeth.
I wait for the group to head out first, six to a raft, each with a guide to make seven.
“Aren’t we going with them?” she asks with a little trepidation, as we watch the two rafts set off.
“I know this river like the back of my hand,” I reassure her. “I often rent this smaller raft to go out by myself. It’s just easier to hitch a ride on the shuttle. The bus will wait for us on the other side as well. You’ll get a whole new perspective of the town from down on the river, and it’s even better when you’re not distracted by the other rafts.”
I help Bella get in the raft and make sure her life vest is properly secured before I check my own.
“Do you want to paddle or just sit and enjoy? We can do both.”
“Paddle,” she says, finally showing a bit of a grin.
“That comes with a few basic rules,” I tell her, handing her the shorter of the two. “You don’t have to worry about steering. I’ll look after most of that, all you have to do is paddle hard or easy when I tell you to. Hold your paddle like this.” I show her with one hand on the knob and the other further down toward the end. “See those loops on the bottom of the raft? Those are your footholds. If things get bouncy, those will keep you in the raft instead of in the river. If you do fall out, make sure to flip on your back and turn so your feet are pointing downstream. That way you can see anything coming your way. Good to go?”
I get a tight little nod in response and I’m sure she’s reconsidering, but I’m already pushing off into a relatively calm river. For now.
“Where do I sit?”
“If you’re gonna paddle, you should come back here. Put your feet in the loops and hold on.”
She seems to relax once we get into a little bit of a rhythm, but looks at me when she hears the sound of the first set of rapids around the next bend.
“Get ready,” I warn her, right before we round the corner and immediately hit a sharp dip. “Hard! Three strokes.”
A spray of water hits the raft full on, but a quick glance shows her working hard and not even noticing she’s getting soaked in the process. She seems to hold her end of the raft, and by the time we coast out of those first rapids: her hair is in wet strands, her makeup is running, and she has a drop hanging off her nose, but her eyes are sharp down the river, and her smile is unmistakable.
“CAN WE GO AGAIN?”
I grin when she throws her arms around my neck after we pull the raft up on shore.
“I’m gonna need some food first.”
“Tomorrow?’
I laugh at her excitement; she’s like a little kid.
“I suggest you first wait and see what tomorrow feels like after your first rafting trip, Squirt. I’m guessing you’ll feel sore muscles where you never even knew you had any.”
“Whatever.” I get one of the patented eye rolls, but this one is playful. I like Bella playful.
When we get back to the parking lot, I grab the clothes we tossed in the back seat and direct her to the dressing rooms inside, while I get my phone from the glove compartment. Two missed messages. One from Blackfoot; ‘Hook, line, and sinker.’ The other from Damian who is monitoring the wiretap we were able to get a warrant for last night on Scott Lipczyk’s phone; ‘Fucking gold mine.’
Joanne’s statement, specifically her recounting of the drug theft she witnessed, went a long way to convincing the judge, who hadn’t been too pleased we bothered him on a Friday night. He wasn’t convinced enough by our conspiracy theory to allow us a tap on McMahan’s phone as well, which is why Damian was pulling apart those telephone records, but judging from his message, he’s getting enough from Lipczyk’s phone.
I quickly shoot off a thumbs-up to both, before stripping out of my own wetsuit.
“You’re drawing a crowd.” I turn my head as Bella comes up behind me, a big grin on her face.
“I’m in my bloody boxer briefs,” I protest when I see a couple of people—fine, women—throwing curious glances. “I see guys at the public pool who run around in Speedos a third the coverage of these.”
“Ewww. Not a good visual.”
I quickly pull on cargo shorts and whip a shirt over my head, throwing a raised eyebrow in the direction of one particularly close observer.
“Don’t be mean,” Bella admonishes, as she steps in close
and slips her hands under my shirt and over my abs. “Can’t blame the girl; you make a pretty picture.”
“Are you staking a claim right now?” I ask, barely holding back a grin as Bella almost climbs me.
“Do you object?” she asks coyly, leaning back so she can look at me.
“Not in the least,” I freely admit. Hell, any time, any place this woman wants to lay claim on me like this, I’m game.
“Good, because if you can maul me in front of an audience just to show that guide I’m yours, then so can I.”
Guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought I was.
CHAPTER 26
BELLA
My body aches from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
The rafting Saturday morning was an absolute blast, although next time, I’ll just pull my hair in a ponytail and go barefaced. We just roamed around town after that, did a little window shopping, visited a few galleries, and ended up on the rooftop patio at the Balcony Bar and Grill for a bite, some drinks, and live music.
I should’ve been satisfied with that, but I made the mistake of asking Jasper what the plans for the day were while we were having breakfast at the Strater on Sunday morning. I’m the one who told him I was sure I was up for another adventure when he asked me.
So we hiked a seven-mile trail up the Animas Mountain.
I even joked at the start, saying my arms and shoulders were sore from the day before, but there was nothing wrong with my legs. Those I didn’t start feeling until we were halfway through the trail.
I’ve had the absolute best weekend, but this morning I can barely move.
“What happened to you?” Ryan says when I limp my way over to the rig.
“This is what a fun weekend looks like on me. Clearly I need practice,” I grumble, and he starts laughing.
“Do I even want to know?”
“All I can say is, my enthusiasm far outreaches my fitness level—and we’ll leave it at that.”
Of course, just my luck, we start our Monday morning shift with a senior who likely broke his hip falling out of his bed. His bedroom is on the third floor of an old house, up two sets of very narrow stairs. He isn’t a small man either. I’m pretty sure I threw my back just trying to stabilize him on a backboard.
