Fighting Redemption: A Small Town Romantic Suspense (Texas SWAT Book 1)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Yeah. That.”

  “You get a pass. This time. Got it? You pull this stuff again and we’re done.” She wagged her finger at him. Yeah, she might play it off right now, but if he didn’t change, if they didn’t strike a balance, she was out. The possessive act wasn’t going to work with her. She’d been independent for far too long.

  “Trevor—”

  “Let me worry about him, okay? If you try to talk to him he’s going to get more suspicious.” She reached out and flattened her hand against his chest, relishing the hard feel of his muscles under her fingertips. “I wish this didn’t have to be a secret.”

  “Let’s give it a few weeks.”

  “What then?”

  “Then we have to make a decision.”

  She nodded and stared at the neckline of his t-shirt. He’d changed before their briefing. In a way, she preferred the uniform. When he wore these thin, threadbare t-shirts her imagination went nuts with the way they hung on his muscles. It was the male version of the little red dress. Certain to drive a woman like her crazy with want.

  Jenna grabbed a handful of his shirt and shoved it up.

  “What?” Alex frowned at her, but obeyed her implied command and removed the shirt.

  Naked man chest was better. Much better.

  She slid her hands down over his shoulders and chest. The short, wiry hairs tickled her palms. His small, flat nipples teased her. She leaned closer and licked one, tasting the slightly salty tang of his skin.

  Alex gripped her hips and pulled her closer until their bodies touched and bumped as they shifted. She slipped her hands past the waistband of his jeans and ran her fingers around to the front tab. The denim parted easily, the zipper practically running away from her on its trek downward.

  “Jenna.” The way he growled her name, she couldn’t decide if it was a curse or a praise.

  “What?” She reached into his jeans and palmed his erection. He really didn’t need to talk. At this point, speaking wasn’t high on her list of things to do.

  He grunted and rocked his hips into her grasp.

  “We had a fight. Now we get to have make-up sex. Or are you going to argue with me about that, too?” She pushed her hand into his underwear and pumped his cock.

  Jenna held her breath, eyes on his chest. When it came to men they didn’t always like how strong she came on, preferring for her to lie back and let them take the lead. That wasn’t her. She’d gone into hot zones right alongside freedom fighters and now she charged into tense situations with SWAT. If she wanted a man, they’d damn well know. Except they didn’t all appreciate that about her.

  Her lungs burned for oxygen. If he didn’t answer her soon, she might pass out from lack of oxygen or need, one.

  “No.” Alex groaned and leaned against the back of the sofa, his chin tipped up and his face hidden from view.

  Awesome.

  An invisible band unlocked from around her chest, allowing her to breathe freely. A tingle of awareness swept her body from head to toe. For two years she’d wanted him. For more than the last year she’d remained celibate, save for her trusty vibrator. She had a lot of pent up sexual need to work out of her system. And just the man to use as her personal jungle gym.

  She licked his other nipple, swirling her tongue over the hard little nub. His cock grew harder in her palm. She swiped her thumb over the tip, using the moisture seeping out to slick over his skin.

  His jeans were too confining. She shoved them down his hips, freeing all the important parts. Last night she hadn’t gotten to see him. It had been too dark, and she’d been too needy. Now, she stood back, letting her eyes eat him up.

  Alex gripped the back of the couch, his lids heavy and his lips tightly compressed. She’d taken that to indicate his frustration with her from day one. Now, she knew it for the tell it was. He was holding himself back. Keeping what he wanted buried down deep inside. Well, he could keep that to himself for a little bit longer while she committed this picture to memory.

  The tendons on either side of his neck were flexed, a testament to how much he was restraining himself. She’d spent hours sprawled across his well-defined chest, but in the light it was so much more impressive. His abs were one hard line of muscle after the other, with the panty-dropping V-marks on either hip. Her medical background told her that the result was a combination of muscle toning on several sets of muscles, specifically the pelvic ones, but hot damn, she didn’t care what her text books called them. Right now, they simply made her want to be rid of all her clothes.

  A dark trail of hair led the way down from his navel to the patch of neatly trimmed hair at the base of his cock. She hadn’t pegged him for a manscaper, but she could appreciate the aesthetic. His cock jutted out, fully erect. Pre-come dampened his skin. Thick veins stood out against the velvety smooth skin. His thigh muscles bunched, reminding her that this wasn’t a man to toy with.

  She leaned in, pressing her body to his, and kissed his mouth while she palmed his cock with one hand and his ass with the other. It was just as firm and round as the rest of him.

  Alex turned them so fast she almost tipped over the sofa, but he held her. Her heart pounded, pumping lust through her veins. He was everywhere, gripping her breast, in her pants, holding her hair, in her mouth.

  He yanked her pajama pants and panties down her legs. She gasped and kicked out of them, too needy to complain. Whereas last night Alex had paused so often to ensure her permission, he didn’t this time. Maybe she’d finally gotten it through that black and white skull of his that she meant business of the sexual kind.

  Alex stood, hooking his hand under her left knee. She tipped back, perching on the sofa, and curled her hands over his shoulders. He dipped down, kissing her mouth. His cock rested against her thigh, a hot, hard promise of what they were about to do. She curled her calf around his ass, praying he’d edge closer, but all she got was his tongue in her mouth.

  He dropped her leg and turned her around on wobbly knees. He pressed a hand between her shoulder blades, urging her to lean over the sofa. She planted her hands on the worn cushions and pushed her hips back, against his pelvis.

  Alex circled her ribs with his arms, flattening his palms under her tank-top and pushing the fabric and her bra up over her breasts. He squeezed one, then the other, with his face nestled in the crook of her neck. His breathing was labored and ever so often he made these needy almost-groan noises in the back of his throat.

  “Christ,” he muttered.

  “Jenna.”

  He chuckled and slapped her bottom.

  She yelped and squeezed her knees together.

  “Stay right there,” he said against her ear. “Understand me?”

  “Yup.” She swiveled her hips in a circle, concentrating on the feel of his hardness against her.

  Alex released her and leaned over the couch. He grabbed a plastic bag and dug out a box—of condoms. She grinned, noting he’d opted for the jumbo box. Someone was expecting a lot of nookie. And someone would be right.

  He ripped open the box and yanked out a strip of foil packets. He pulled one off the end and bit the corner of the package.

  There was something devilishly sexy about the way he stared at her when he did it, as if to say, I can’t wait to have you. In a matter of seconds he had the latex stretched over his swelling cock.

  Alex wrapped one arm around her waist and plastered himself to her backside. He buried his face in her hair and cupped her mound. She sucked in a breath her entire focus going to that point at her pelvis where their bodies connected. He pushed his fingers between her folds. She squirmed and shifted, urging him deeper, wanting him inside her already, but he held back.

  “Alex.” She dug her fingers into the cushions, pouring her frustration into those points.

  “Give me a second.”

  “Why?”

  “I need—just hold on.”

  “No,” she wailed. She’d waited and held on all day while her mind made a mental loop
of all the places he’d touched her, what his body felt like on top of hers and how each point of contact sparked new fantasies.

  She bent forward, going down to her elbows. His fingers curled, pressing against her opening, but that was it. She needed more. A whole lot more.

  Jenna covered his hand with hers, pushing one of his fingers into her. His body jerked and his hips bucked against her.

  He pulled out of her grasp and in the next moment replaced his finger with the head of his cock.

  Yes!

  A naked victory dance circled round her brain.

  He flexed his hips, and she felt him slide into her, one delicious inch at a time. She sucked down a deep breath, her mind buzzing with lust and sensation. He shifted, back and forth, easing himself into her. She dropped her head forward, surrendering herself to all the different ways he touched her.

  His hand clenched the sofa next to her elbow, all the tendons and ligaments sticking out. Yet another display of his control and restraint. What would it be like if he ever let go with her?

  The hand at her hip squeezed and her nerves pulsed from head to toe with feel-good emotions.

  She felt the bunch of his muscles the moment before he pulled almost all the way out of her. Her eyes rolled back as he pushed in once more, just a tiny bit harder.

  “More,” she said and rolled her hips, working in tandem with him as he left her body.

  His hold on her hips tightened the moment before he thrust. She moved with him, thrusting back onto his cock.

  “Oh, yes.” She hissed her approval as the pleasurable aftershocks rippled through her.

  Alex seemed to get the hint and this time he thrust hard enough she rocked up on her toes and lights blossomed behind her eyes.

  Oh my, that was it.

  “Yes,” she said again.

  He withdrew and thrust, driving her crazy. The sofa inched across the floor with her draped across it. She could feel each finger imprinting itself against her hips as he drove himself deeper and deeper into her body.

  Jenna squealed and threw her head back as she tipped over the edge into an endless abyss of bliss. Alex continued to pump into her, holding her body hostage. She gripped the cushions and buried her face in them as the orgasm drew out and sensation rippled through her body.

  Alex shouted and all at once stilled. He growled something deep in his throat while breath hissed out. Whatever he said was lost to her. She was spent, completely done in by him, and it was delicious.

  Jenna remained bonelessly slumped over the furniture for several moments while neither of them moved. The only sounds were their labored breathing and the distant whine of Genghis at the door.

  Alex eased out of her and in one easy move scooped her up. His jeans were down around his ankles, but that didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. He carried her around to the front of the couch and flopped down with her sprawled out on top of him. She turned and squirmed until she was chest to chest with him, her face buried against his shoulder. Sweat slicked his hair to his skin.

  Her body hummed with a well worn pleasure that was only the product of a good fucking. At least now it wasn’t her vibrator getting her off.

  Alex rubbed his hands up and down her back and kissed the top of her head.

  She could fall asleep like this if he let her, and she just might.

  Things between them were too good to not figure out how to make it work. Granted, she had no idea how they’d work out her stalker or PTSD issues, or how they would decide who got to stay on with SWAT, but if Alex wanted her, she wasn’t about to say no.

  14.

  ALEX FLOATED IN AND out of wakefulness, not always sure which was reality and which was a dream, but he was languid, sated and oddly happy. He wasn’t sure why he was in such a good mood, but it thrummed in his veins down to his toes. Why question it? Most of his sleeping hours were full of gruesome memories he’d rather not relive. This was a vast improvement.

  He blinked up at a rich, burgundy curtains that surrounded a strange, delicate bed he didn’t recognize. He pushed up on an elbow and glanced around the odd, boudoir-like room. Besides the canopied bed and dainty sofa, he was the only person there. Why was he here? Curious now, he rolled out of bed and stood, swaying slightly. Soft fabric rustled around his thighs. He glanced down and grimaced at the frilly, green robe. It wasn’t long enough to even be decent. What the hell?

  The color...it reminded him of something. No, someone...

  Jenna.

  Her name flowed into his subconscious, sparking a dozen other memories of panting breath and sweaty bodies. Blood pumped straight to his groin.

  She was here somewhere. He needed to find her. They could have round two or four, but this time in the bed. Her blonde hair would stand out against the crimson sheets. This time she’d be on top, so he could play with her breasts as she rode him.

  Yes.

  They could spend the rest of the night here. Wherever here was.

  He walked toward the door and frowned. The room was luxuriously appointed. Way above his pay grade. But the door was cheap, the doorknob about to fall off.

  Just like...

  Somewhere in the distance, a knock sounded on a door.

  A familiar knock.

  One he’d heard before.

  And it didn’t belong in this sex and silk kind of room.

  His heart beat against his ribs and his blood turned to ice.

  Not here. These memories didn’t touch Jenna. She didn’t belong in them.

  He should ignore that knock. Nothing good came to his door in the middle of the night. He was a cop. He knew this. The inner city was a dangerous place.

  But what if it was someone he knew? Someone who needed help?

  The familiar war waged within him.

  He shouldn’t answer the door. And yet, he couldn’t turn down a person in need. And who knocked on a cop’s door? Someone who needed his help.

  Alex swallowed and reached for the knob. He had to push it back into the door, twist and lift. It was a motion he’d perfected in the years of living in the apartment, because it was easier to do that than actually fix the damn thing.

  He stepped into a cold, drafty hallway.

  Nothing had ever been able to beat the chill away. He’d tried insulation, space heaters, you name it, but the first floor was always freezing.

  He glanced down at himself, but he was no longer in the frilly robe. Instead he wore his patrol uniform identifying him as Detroit Police. It was the same uniform he’d worn for years. Ever since his rookie days.

  Knock. Knock.

  He’d disabled the doorbell after moving in. It was either that, or be woken up by a dozen kids who thought it was funny to tease the cop on the block.

  Alex stared through the arch that led straight to the entry. From his position he could see half the front door. The porch light was out again and beyond that it was darkness. The dead of night.

  Then why was he awake?

  Something had pulled him out of bed for this. What had it been?

  Right. He’d fallen asleep in front of the TV. He’d never made it to bed after coming home and sitting down. Why did he think he’d been in some fancy bedroom?

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  They were lighter taps. Not the kind an adult’s knuckles would make.

  A child. Or a teen, perhaps.

  All the neighborhood kids knew him. He’d made sure to let them know his home was a safe space should they need it. None of them had ever taken him up on it, but they’d known. Maybe tonight was the night?

  “Coming,” he called out.

  It might be a kid, but even kids these days could be dangerous.

  He crossed into the living room and grabbed his service belt, just in case.

  Nothing good happened at this hour.

  Alex slung the belt around his hips and drew his Glock. It was a silly precaution, but ever since the rookie was killed last year in front of his parents answering his door, Alex had bee
n a lot more cautious.

  This was it.

  The same nightmare all over again.

  On the outside, he was sleepy yet curious, but on the inside—he knew. He knew what was going to happen again. And he couldn’t stop it. No matter how many times he’d tried, the dream always ended the same.

  He put one foot in front of the other. Each step echoed through his mind like a ton of bricks hitting the pavement.

  The Glock was an old, familiar weight in his left hand. He didn’t shoot with his left, hell, he couldn’t aim but it wasn’t like he wanted to hurt anyone. It was a just in case kind of precaution. Most idiots were scared of just seeing one.

  No, no, no. Stop. Turn around! Don’t open that God damned door!

  He screamed at his dream-self, railing against what was about to happen. What he was going to do again, the same way he’d done it a hundred thousand times in his dreams.

  Alex stepped into the entry and reached for the lock.

  Hands reached for him, pulling him back, away from the door, breaking the hypnotic trance of the dream.

  “Alex? Alex, wake up.”

  The door shrank, smaller and smaller.

  Knock. Knock.

  “Alex.” Tones of alarm laced her voice.

  He blinked up at Jenna’s face, lined with worry. She straddled his waist, hands cupping his face. It was still cold—so cold. No...

  Alex glanced down at his bare chest and the sheen of perspiration covering his body.

  He’d sweated through the sheets.

  “Are you okay?” Jenna sat back, wearing nothing but his t-shirt. He knew that because he’d put it on her and chunked her panties out of reach when she’d snagged them.

  Alex glanced around the room, soaking in his same, new-ish furniture. The robin’s egg blue paint Delores had picked out for him. Light streamed in around the blackout curtains, so it couldn’t be that late. Genghis sat next to the bed, alert and trained on him. Alex reached over and gave the big German Sheppard a scratch.