by Mia Dymond
Positively Criminal
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
EPILOGUE
Positively Criminal
Primrose, Minnesota, Book 2
By Mia Dymond
Copyright 2013 Mia Dymond
Published on Smashwords
Cover photo: Les3photo8|Dreamstime.com
Cover by Dara England
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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CHAPTER ONE
“Ten seconds, sweetheart.”
Sabrina Miller pretended to consider Detective Jake Rawlings’ ultimatum while she folded her arms across her barely-covered chest, gave her cleavage an intentional boost, and then shot him a smile that oozed syrup. Sticky, ooey-gooey, rot-your-teeth syrup.
“Sorry Detective, my lips are sealed.”
“Really? You answer my question, I give you one phone call. Your pretty little head will hit your pillow in thirty minutes tops.”
She peered directly into his deep, dark eyes and issued a silent challenge. Big bully. Little did he know using a phone call as bargaining power would get him nowhere. Never mind she had no one to call, but no way would she allow him to bully her – especially about something so insignificant as a phone call. Besides, she’d been here most of the night – what did a couple more hours matter?
His soft, low chuckle warmed her body as he braced himself on one hip against the wall opposite the cage surrounding her, the perfect image of pure, cocky male.
“You won’t look good in stripes, Bri.”
She rolled her eyes at his use of her nickname. Like she couldn’t see right through that technique. “I’ve been here before, remember? I know how it works.”
He gave a slight nod. “I also remember you’ve been at the Velvet Glove before.”
Despite her intent to stay strong, tiny electric needles assaulted her nerve endings and her libido began to hum a familiar tune, one she called Damp Panty Serenade. Detective Rawlings spoke the absolute truth, he had seen her at the Velvet Glove once before and she had absolutely no intention of ever forgetting that introduction.
From behind the midnight blue curtain she’d spotted him as he entered the club, his six and a half foot frame towering over most every other patron. Dressed in jeans and a seven-button, long sleeved dress shirt, he maneuvered through the crowd with slow, easy, smooth steps and a distinct air of arrogant male. Toned biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt with the force of his movement, flattening each starched crease as he made his way to the bar. Without hesitation, he’d straddled the stool, gave the woman next to him a sexy smirk and then signaled for the bartender. She quirked her lips to allow herself a tiny smirk. The arrogance behind his confidence resembled his present mood.
Much like now, that confidence had demanded her attention, caused her breath to catch in her throat and her blood to begin a slow simmer while she watched him settle into conversation across the counter. She allowed her gaze to travel downward, along the length of his torso and slowly she appreciated the outline of muscles beneath that pesky shirt, her imagination running wild at what may possibly lie underneath. Her mouth had gone dry as a desert and her heart threatened to pound a hole through her skin – and she couldn’t even see beneath his clothing.
Although she couldn’t hear him speak over the music, his lips tantalized her libido as they moved with each syllable. Her fingers had tightened around the edge of the curtain as she imagined those lips wrapped around several of her favorite pleasure points.
She remembered being almost embarrassed about her wayward thoughts. He was a stranger for Pete’s sake – a sexy stranger who made her want to be very, very naughty.
Only the flash of gold at his hip stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Bri, I want an answer.”
She forced her thoughts back to the present and cleared her throat. “No.”
“I’ve got all night.”
“Me too.”
“Is that so?” He gave her one of his incredibly cocky smirks and her resolve slipped another notch. “As soon as Mabel figures out where you are, you’re pretty much sunk.”
Determined to outwit him, she tilted her head to one side. “Actually, if my aunt is forced to post bail, you should be more worried about yourself.”
Suddenly the smirk fell from his lips. She had him and he knew it. Her aunt, the silver-haired devil, had been Jake’s grandmother’s best friend for over fifty years. No way would he violate her strict moral code.
And that included arresting her favorite niece.
“Sucks to be you, Detective,” she taunted. In an effort to keep the facade of nonchalance and to distract her nerves, she spun the gold bracelet that wrapped her left wrist then raised an eyebrow. “Normally, I’d have to relinquish this.”
He gave a lazy shrug. “Where does Mabel think you are?”
“She’s spending the next thirty days recuperating from her hip replacement at Shady Palm Medical Spa in Florida with Mrs. Harris.”
“Medical spa?”
“Fancy name for rehab, I think. Yet when I spoke to her earlier, they were both in the middle of a hot oil massage.”
“Mrs. Harris? The librarian?”
“Yep. So now what, Mr. Blowhard?”
After several seconds of pained silence, she was encouraged when he finally released a hard sigh and ran one hand across the top of his now-mussed wavy hair. Her hands itched to tangle themselves in the waves.
“Look, here’s the deal. You tell me what the hell you were doing at the one place I specifically told you to stay away from and I take you home to Mabel’s, tuck your sexy little ass into bed, and we both forget this ever happened.”
She blinked twice, both angered and aroused by his demand. Just the thought of Jake’s hands wrapped around that particular body part made her skin tingle. Very slowly, she uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again.
“What about a good night kiss?”
Obviously caught off guard, he raised an eyebrow. “That would make you talk?”
Sing like a lark. She bit her tongue to stop that particular confession and then looked into his deep, dark eyes and lied through her teeth. “No.”
“You’ll lose your medical license.”
“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes. “You can’t hold me here and you kno
w it.”
“Wanna bet?”
“I’ll bet you every stitch of clothing on my body.”
She fought the urge to shudder when his gaze traveled the length of her body, clad only in a sapphire blue sequined bra and a pair of matching boyshorts.
“You aren’t wearing much,” he growled.
“Then it’ll be a small bet,” she countered. “You have nothing on me.”
“You were there when the bust went down.”
“And? I’ve already been searched. I’m squeaky clean.”
“Did you dance tonight?”
“I’m over twenty one. That’s not illegal.”
“Answer me, Bri.”
“No.”
“No, you didn’t dance or no, you won’t answer?”
“No.”
He narrowed his eyes and his gaze darn near speared her. “Your eyes are green.”
“So?”
“So, your eyes are usually so deep dark blue I lose myself in the depths.”
She swallowed hard and for half a second considered confessing. Luckily, she knew both psychology and Detective Rawlings. Past experience told her he liked games; psychology allowed her to use it against him.
“Nice try.”
With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself off the wall. “Enough.” He opened the steel door, stepped inside and extended a hand.
She gave him a smug smile and slipped her hand inside his, confident she’d won this round. Except, when his grip tightened and he pulled her flush against him, her confidence took a nosedive. His hard, powerful pectorals rippled through his clothing, teasing her nipples into erect peaks.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Sabrina.” Even in anger, the low, smooth timbre of his voice slid over her body like softened butter. “You step one dainty little foot into that meat market again and I’ll handcuff you to me and swallow the key.”
Sucked way too far into the sexual storm between them, she knew better than to argue. She hesitated, waiting for his ultimatum to anger her, not exactly surprised when she only felt arousal. Her panties were now soaked and honestly, she wouldn’t have stopped the next challenge from slipping from her mouth if she wanted to.
“Promises, promises,” she whispered.
Much to her surprise, he didn’t immediately answer. A muscle ticked at the base of his jaw. Tiny beads of sweat formed on his forehead and dampened his hairline. Slowly, his gaze left hers and traveled downward, lingered over her breasts, moved to her exposed abdomen and the tiny jewel in her belly button, and finally lower to the vee of her hips. The exact spot that currently throbbed in anticipation of his touch. She fought to breathe.
Finally, he dragged his gaze back to hers. “You’re positively criminal, Bri.”
She gave a small shrug and tugged free of his grip. “So you say. Are you going to take me home or not?”
“Depends.”
“Oh good grief! On what?”
“Promise me you won’t go back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“At least tell me why it’s so important for you to be there.”
She didn’t answer, just pursed her lips together in defiance and spun her bracelet again; a nervous gesture she hoped he couldn’t figure out.
“You have to ride with me all the way home,” he reminded her.
“Not true. I’ll call Liberty.”
“Go ahead. Last I heard, she and Shane were planning to be somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean in a couple hours.”
Damn Shane’s romantic gesture. Like the true hero he was, the sexy fireman whisked away her friend and business partner to an island somewhere in the Caribbean, away from the terrible memories of a lunatic arsonist. She held nothing but love for the couple in her heart; it just put a major kink in her escape plan.
“Well then, one of us has to call Mabel.”
“No way.” He circled her wrist with his thumb and forefinger. “I’d rather play the quiet game with you.”
“What about bail?”
“I didn’t charge you.” He laced her fingers through his and pulled her out of the room. “This time.”
She gave herself a mental slap on the forehead. No wonder she wasn’t fingerprinted. And that explained why she still wore her jewelry. Her temper screamed to be released. The arrogant detective kept her cornered like a rabbit for most of the night with the threat of incarceration while he obviously had no intention of following through. Never mind that she hadn’t done anything illegal.
She yanked her hand in an attempt to free herself. “Let go, Jake.”
“Not a chance.”
He tightened his hold and led her through the booking area, his footsteps long and heavy. She fought to keep his pace, grateful when they entered an office. Again, she attempted to escape his hold.
“No.” He pulled her to stand beside him while he reached for a men’s white dress shirt hanging on the edge of a nearby bookshelf.
Finally, he released her long enough to cram her arms through the sleeves and button all seven buttons until the garment rested just above her knees. He then rolled both cuffs until they left only her wrists exposed. Although his dominating manner somewhat irked her, she couldn’t shake the distinct impression he had dressed a woman before. And that made her body tingle.
“Stop already!” She released the top two buttons, ignoring the fact that the clean, musky scent of him now soaked her skin. “I’m not naked.”
“Not now.”
“You’re just lucky I’m so small.”
“Yeah, lucky,” he mumbled.
“Could you please take me home now? I need sleep.”
“I’d be glad to tuck you in.”
While his lips split into a cocky grin, his offer made her pause and sorely tempted her to accept. Jake’s big, warm, muscled body pressing hers into the mattress sounded like the perfect sleep aid. No doubt the man could give her some very sweet dreams.
Except, someone might voice a very loud objection to their union.
“On second thought, take me to the clinic.”
A frown wrinkled his brow. “You haven’t slept all night.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got work to do.”
“At the office.”
She released a heavy sigh. “Yes, at the office.”
A full three seconds passed while he held her gaze with his and she hoped to God he wouldn’t question her change of plans. She worked hard not to let her stare waver, to show him she could meet his challenge head on.
Finally, he reached for her hand again and opened the door with the other. “After you.”
“Thank you.”
The drive to her and Liberty’s clinic took all of five minutes, the silence between them deafening and laced with tension. Although she was pretty sure Jake’s tension had everything to do with why he’d found her at the Velvet Glove, her tension had absolutely nothing to do with that. In fact, she was about ninety-nine percent sure her tension was sexual.
She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves, relieved when he finally parked at the curb in front of the clinic.
“Don’t work too hard,” he said, breaking the silence.
“I won’t.”
“Should I prepare myself for a phone call from Mabel?”
She let a smile crease her lips. “No. I think we better keep this between ourselves.”
“Done.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her knuckles. “Our secret.”
She let his lips linger for a moment against her skin, then drew back and left the car without another word. Distance was the best thing for both of them at this exact second.
Bri unlocked the front door then grasped the knob, tempted to throw caution to the wind and ask Jake to take her home and interrogate her for several more hot, sticky hours. She stole a quick glance over her shoulder to see him still parked at the curb. Her hand shook. She knew it wouldn’t take much to convince him to agree;
the undisputable chemistry between them was ripe for combustion. To make matters worse, she knew what lay beneath Jake’s kick-ass cop armor – a compassionate, good-hearted soul, determined to rescue those in need.
And right now, she needed him.
Her pulse leapt when he frowned back at her, obviously suspicious of her hesitation. Something in his deep dark gaze told her this was not the time or place for another confrontation. With a heavy sigh, she lifted one hand and gave him a smile and a three-fingered wave while she turned the doorknob with the other.
The knob made half a turn before the door flew open and caused her to stumble forward.
Luckily, the brick wall of a male chest stopped her from planting her face into the floor.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Stunned, Bri managed to gather her senses and push him further inside and hopefully out of Jake’s line of vision.
“Geez, Ryan! Are you crazy?” She slammed the door and then separated the blinds to peek out the window, relieved to see Jake drive away. “He could’ve seen you.”
“He?”
“Detective Rawlings.”
“Why did he bring you here?”
She spun away from the window. “Hello? You let me get arrested! I didn’t drive to jail.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that, but a personal escort?”
“Jake and I go way back.”
“How far?”
Far enough for me to fall madly in love with him. “Relax, he doesn’t know about our association.”
“Sorry, Bri, I’m going to need a little more than that.”
“Mabel and his grandmother were close friends. He feels obligated to keep me out of trouble.”
“What’s with the shirt?”
“He didn’t like my costume.”
“I waited for your call. What took so long?”
“Detective Rawlings insisted on interrogating me personally. It was brutal.”
“About the bust?”
“Actually, no. He was more interested in knowing why I was even there.”
