by AJ Nuest
Crap, her toast. Kelly was liable to fly out of bed with a coronary.
Instinct kicked in as she docked her coffee on the end table and jumped onto the arm of the couch. A quick dance along the back, and she leapt over the high stools, landing in a crouch on the breakfast bar.
The fog thickened. A thick plume rolled past the front door. A second detector joined in the fun and screeched from the utility room in an ear-splintering duet. Well, for shit’s sake, how many smoke alarms did the man need?
Eden plucked a carving knife from the wooden box on the counter, twirled and it sailed through the air, tip over handle to impale the white disk above the back door. The noise died mid-screech. A second snatch at the wooden box, she hurdled off the counter and jammed the knife into the center of the kitchen alarm. Plastic cracked with the hard twist of her wrist. Her feet hit the tile as the device warbled and groaned like a miniature version of a sad R2D2.
There. A second later, the only sound was the distant thunder of the incoming storm. She grabbed the cord to the toaster oven and jerked the prongs from the wall. Jesus. Too bad she didn’t have an air horn. Then she could’ve added another soprano to the mix.
The grating rasp of a male throat being cleared came from the opposite side of the breakfast bar, and Eden slumped. Shit. How much had he seen?
Smacking her lips, she tipped her head and slid her eyes in Kelly’s direction.
His chest heaved, thick hair irresistibly tousled, blue eyes so sharp the green flecks almost appeared gray. Every muscle in his arm flexed and tendon rippled down his torso in a graphic display of rocking hot male as he stepped forward and smacked his gun to the counter. “Maybe now would be a good time to explain exactly what kind of training Smith gave you.”
Great. Nothing better than a shock and awe campaign to start the day. Kelly would no doubt freak out once he learned what she was capable of. A threat to his masculinity and all that jazz.
She arched a brow. Then again, the things she’d learned in her three years with Malcolm were as good a place to start as any. Whatever Kelly’s take, maybe the knowing would finally reestablish some much-needed space between them.
“Self defense, weaponry, parkour, Bartitsu, Karate, anatomy, biology, physics, chemistry, psychology, you name it.” Flipping down the door to the toaster oven, she extracted the two smoldering charcoal briquettes that had once been bread and tossed them into the sink. A cough tickled the back of her throat, and she waved a hand to disperse the smoke. “Pretty much everything except the culinary arts.”
Kelly grunted. “So, basically, that makes you a triple threat.”
Only a triple? Like hell.
He strode around the counter and tipped his head back, hands on his hips as he peered at the knife handle jutting through the smog blanketing the ceiling.
Her focus fell to the dense rope of muscle protruding from either side of his pelvis, the dusting of dark hair beneath his navel. Dammit, all he had to do was stand there shirtless, and every thought she had to steer clear of him melted like soft butter in the blazing sun. She gritted her teeth against the impulse to drop to her knees and sweep her lips through that downy fur, release the drawstring in his waistband so she could explore the tantalizing bulge tenting the front of his pants.
“Intelligent, lethal…” He lowered his head and her breath snagged as his gaze scorched a path up and down the length of her. “With the face of an angel and body made for stopping traffic.”
Well, damn. That wasn’t the response she’d expected at all. She licked her lips as her brain took up a ridiculous chant. Do it. Do it. Do it.
Yeah, space. That’s what she needed. Like, right now.
She stepped left, but he followed. Side-stepped right, and he slid in front of her again. “What’s the matter, Dirty Deeds? This is usually the part where you get huffy and tell me I’m full of shit.”
Maybe she should. She fisted her hands against her thighs. Fighting with him was easier, better, even though the tactic proved exceedingly ineffective at throwing him off track.
“Hey.” His large hand cupped the side of her throat. He slid his thumb under her chin and tilted her head back so she had no choice but to look him in the eye.
“Oh, come on.” A frown crumpled his brow, but the quirk of his lips held the hint of a smile. “I can’t be the first guy to tell you how beautiful you are. There’s no way.”
Sure, she’d heard those words before…dressed as Pearl or Jade or Coral. But not as Eden. How could she when few men ever saw her without some sort of disguise?
She grasped his wrist and held on, half of her wanting to jerk his touch away, the other half hell bent on keeping his hand right where it was. On her skin, his fingers tangled in her hair.
Her reaction was ridiculous. Like a teenage girl with a stupid high school crush. Especially since his compliment had nothing to do with the case. Whether or not Kelly thought she was pretty didn’t matter. Not really. Not when it came to locating Malcolm’s killer.
But, deep down, locked in small room she kept hidden inside, she liked hearing those words from him. Wanted him to tell her she was beautiful over and over until he was sick of repeating the phrase.
Even though his comment had been off the cuff, getting such praise from Kelly gave flattery new meaning. Shit, it gave her new meaning. “Malcolm wasn’t big on doling out compliments, and I can’t really count any other men.” Her fingers tightened over the leather cords tied around his wrist. Why the need to confess something so personal seemed important was beyond her. Maybe it was so Kelly would understand a part of her was hollow. And always would be. “It’s hard to believe I’m much of anything when I spend most days pretending to be someone else.”
His brow twitched at the same second understanding filtered into his gaze. “God, woman, you kill me.” Tingles shivered her scalp as he fisted his hand, tugging her a step closer by the hair. “You absolutely kill me, you know that?”
He slipped his other arm around her waist and yanked her to his hips. “Doubting how beautiful you are is completely fucked up. I don’t want you to forget. You hear me? Don’t ever forget because it’s true.”
Her breathing grew thin. His erection nestled against her belly, and she flattened her hand on his chest, her thumb resting in the defined dip between his pecs.
He’d kissed her yesterday morning, but that had been different. A challenge she’d ended by running scared from the apartment. Now, dammit, everything had been flipped on its head. Then, she hadn’t considered what a kiss from him could do to her. Hadn’t given two thoughts to the outcome or what it would mean.
This morning, she understood exactly the degree of arousal his talented lips could coax from her body. But compared to the need pumping through her veins, all the warnings she’d fed herself to avoid him amounted to nothing but drivel.
She slid her hand over the smooth skin of his shoulder, clamped her fingers around his neck and urged him closer. In this moment, she wanted him to kiss her. With everything he had. As Eden. So she would know, for once in her life, what it would feel like to be desired as herself.
A growl built in the back of his throat, but he didn’t give her what she wanted. Even as his lips came close enough, one flick of her tongue and she could’ve licked his mouth, he kept her hanging. Hoping. Perched on the edge.
God, the wait was unbearable.
A roll of his hips, and her thighs clenched. Her core throbbed and ached as he swayed her over the firm ridge digging into her stomach.
“Fuck, you feel good.” His voice grated like he’d swallowed gravel. Grabbing her bottom, he hitched her higher, gyrated and thrust. But it wasn’t enough. Not for her.
Two years of unfulfilled sexual tension clamored for release. Her clit pulsed. Her knees trembled. A little well-placed pressure, and she’d be soaring off the cliff. Skimming a hand down his straining torso, she fondled him inside his loose pants, cinched her fingers and guided him betw
een her legs.
“Jesus.” He stumbled forward with her in his arms, righted and spun, slamming her back against the fridge. Weaving their fingers together, he jerked her hands over her head, pinning them to the cold surface. “Christ, Eden, do you have any idea how much I want you?”
His eyes stayed riveted to hers as he pulled back, sliding his erection along the wet strip of her panties, nudging that damned unrelenting pulse point with the swollen tip. She gasped as a shudder unwound through her body, tightening her nipples and lifting every hair on her skin. He dropped his gaze to her squirming hips. A moan grew inside his chest as he came forward, the force of his arousal riding her folds. “Shit, you’re sexy.”
Goddamn it. She squeezed her eyes closed, rolled her face toward the ceiling as he ground against her. One more stroke, a slight tilt of her hips and she’d implode.
“You like that, baby?” He pressed deeper, the firm wall of his chest keeping her propped on her toes.
“God, yes.” Her internal walls spasmed. She writhed as the ripples built. He’d given her a small slice of Heaven. Almost there…
“I gotta say, I’m glad to hear we’re on the same page.” The sharp edge of his teeth nipped her neck. His hot exhalation tickled her ear. He lowered her hands and brought them to the small of her back, holding her, hugging her so tight she was forced to stop moving.
A whimper caught in her throat, and he expelled a harsh breath over her shoulder. “I know, baby. I know.” His scruff rasped her cheek as he leaned back. “But, before we take this any farther, the two of us need to talk.”
Chapter 11
And there it was. Valid proof all the blood had vacated his head.
The way his cock pounded, it took every ounce of willpower Kelly had to step away from her. Check that. It actually took more not to immediately return once he locked onto her face and she gaped at him like he’d just jabbed her in the throat.
No. The last thing he wanted was her interpreting his actions as a rejection.
“Don’t.” He cupped her cheek, running the ball of his thumb over her lips. God, he wanted to taste her. Suck her tongue into his mouth. But one sip and he’d be a goner, every internal warning shut down by his need. “This isn’t me playing some stupid game or trying to mess with your head.”
Gritting his teeth, he dropped his hand and it hit his thigh with a slap. He was an idiot for calling a cease and desist to where they’d been headed, but God forbid she find out about his past after he’d been inside her. That snafu had disaster written all over it. “You’re not the only one with secrets, Eden. And I’ll be good and Goddamned before I take you to bed without first telling you the truth.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she crossed her arms, hiding those two mouth-watering nipples jutting against her robe. “What is this, Detective? A sudden case of conscience?” A huff dislodged her rigid shoulders. “Save yourself the worry. For God’s sake, it’s just sex.”
Wonderful. The walls were back up. That comment was bullshit and they both knew it.
“Oh, really?” He strode to the counter and snagged a coffee cup off the shelf. “Tell me something, Dirty Deeds. Of the men you’ve slept with, how many have called you by name? Your real name?”
Turning his back to her, he filled the mug to the brim, using the moment to readjust his hard-on. She couldn’t confess to never being herself around other men and then expect him to buy her cavalier attitude like some false bill of goods.
Twisting the facts to protect herself might work with other men, but it wouldn’t work with him. He’d gathered enough evidence in his day to spot the difference.
“Dammit.” Her harsh whisper was accented by a rumble of thunder, and he tossed a grin over his shoulder in time to catch her fingers balling into two tight fists near her thighs. “I really hate it when you do that.”
Blowing the steam off his coffee, he jacked his hip against the counter and swallowed the first sip. “Listen, I’m not saying we need to put labels on anything, but I get the feeling you’ve been jerked around a lot in the past and I’m not gonna do that. I need you to trust me. I need us to trust each other. And the best way to ensure that happens is for me to tell you the truth right off the top.”
“Fine.” She tossed her hand in the air and pushed off from the fridge. “Could’ve been having sex, but no-o-o. Crazy man wants to have a heart to heart.” Her bare feet smacked the kitchen tile, the edge of her robe brushing those come-to-Jesus thighs. The carpeting muffled her footsteps as she hit the living room, snatched a coffee cup off the end table and flopped onto the couch. “Well, let’s have it, Detective. I’m all ears.”
He nodded, lips pursed. Yeah, great, but where did he start? With her ninja skills and the way her frequency had been tuned to the This Had Better Be Good channel, one slip of the tongue and she was liable to make it so sex with her—or any female, for that matter—would be a non-issue.
“About a year ago, I got involved with a woman by the name of Jaclyn Parsons. You may have heard of her. She’s the daughter of Senator Charles Parsons and was the chief witness on a case I was working involving a robbery-turned-murder at a downtown Chicago nightclub.” Shoving away from the counter, he followed Eden into the living room. The clouds finally broke open and bloated raindrops sheeted against the sliding glass doors.
“Hold it.” She held one hand in the air, eyes closed. “Please tell me we’re not about to have some Oprah moment where you insist we sit here and rehash our sexual histories.” Her lashes popped open, and she pinned him with a determined stare. “I’ve been careful, I’ve been tested, I’m clean and that’s the only thing I’m sayin’.”
A silent laugh cinched his stomach as he claimed a spot on the opposite end of the couch. He didn’t give a rat’s ass how many sexual encounters she’d had. Because that’s all they’d been. Encounters.
The only thing that mattered was she was here with him now—the real Eden—and his hope the story he was about to dump in her lap wouldn’t screw that up and send her racing for the door.
“No.” He hesitated. “And me too.”
She eased back in her seat. “Thank God.”
Another chuckle, and he swigged a little more coffee before setting his cup on the table fronting his spread knees. “During the investigation, Jaclyn and I were…shoved together a lot by the press. Apparently, everyone liked the idea of Chicago’s lead homicide detective protecting a senator’s daughter, and since the department had recently taken some flak for improper behavior during a criminal arrest, she and I were encouraged to play up the angle. The DA was hoping our media coverage would take the focus off the two cops under investigation. Make the Chicago PD look like the good guys for a change.”
He raked a hand through his hair, grinding his teeth. Shit, admitting what a complete idiot he’d been was even harder than he’d anticipated. He might as well have tossed a handful of tacks into his mouth. “Jaclyn did an outstanding job of playing her part as the shaken victim. In fact, I’d go so far as to say she’s a consummate actress.”
And the day he’d come to grips with how badly he’d fallen for her act, was the same day he swore to never again buy into anyone’s bullshit. “I remember one interview where she started crying and leaned into me. At first, I was so surprised, I just stood there like an ass, until the DA’s spin doctors asked for a retake. I was supposed to put my arm around her, comfort her. Make it appear like I was holding her up while she had some sort of meltdown.”
A disgruntled huff came from Eden’s direction, and Kelly turned. She twirled a hand in the air for him to continue, lips twisted like she’d just sucked a lemon.
Yep, there it was. The same disgust he carried for himself. The same he got from his brother and dad. “I lost count the number of times that clip kicked off the evening news, but it did the job of bolstering the department’s reputation so I kept my mouth shut. Took one for the team, so to speak. Soon after, the story went national, a
nd Jaclyn and I were tossed together even more. Dinner parties, charity events, a few political gatherings so the senator could show off his daughter and her lapdog cop.”
Kelly fell back on the couch, linking his fingers behind his neck to stare at the ceiling. How sad was it that his life had been reduced to a cliché? Pride cometh before a fall. But there was no denying he’d played his part as well, too cocky after all the attention to consider Jaclyn’s affections were just a part of the scam. Her scam to make sure the lenses stayed firmly focused in their direction. “One thing led to another and, by the time I collared the arrest and the case had been closed, Jaclyn and I had moved in together. None of the higher ups seemed to mind we’d trampled straight through protocol or that a cop had been dating his key witness during an active investigation. Or maybe they preferred the don’t ask, don’t tell policy and chose to believe we were only dating in front of the cameras. Hell, I don’t know. But somewhere along the way the lines got blurred, and I thought Jaclyn and I were happy…right up until the press moved on to their next story and we became yesterday’s news. After that, Jaclyn came to the startling realization she’d made a mistake.”
“It’s called Knight in Shining Armor syndrome.”
Kelly jerked his chin to the side. One of Eden’s eyebrows lifted like she’d seen the train wreck coming a mile down the track, even though he wasn’t convinced Jaclyn had ever felt anything for him. Syndrome or otherwise.
“Call it what you want. All I know is, once the fuss died down, Jaclyn lost interest in me. In us.” Dropping his arms, he leaned forward and reached for his cup. “Though, to be fair, I’m not really sure there ever was an us. The entire time we were…” He frowned at the tan shag between his feet. “Hell, I’m not sure what we did even qualifies as dating since I never officially asked her out. Not that it matters. Archer repeatedly told me I was being played.” Scraping a hand down the bristle on his face, he grunted a derisive laugh. “I preferred the view from inside a set of blinders.”
