Lust (Vegas Nights #2)

by Emma Hart

  I want to see my brother.

  There was one way out of my life. If he really wanted to see me, I would swallow my pride and accept any help he wanted to give me. I no longer wanted to live the way I did. I wanted to be a decent mother and be there and stop putting myself in situations I despised just to get by.

  And, selfishly, I knew Damien would be able to get me out of my contract with the police. Even if it meant buying me out of it and buying continued immunity. I had no idea what they would do when I said I wasn’t coming back, that tonight was the final straw, but I needed him to help me.

  I was terrified of so many things.

  Terrified of his rejection. Terrified I’d left it too long to call about the job Dahlia had mentioned. Terrified I’d be taken from Lola.

  Terrified tonight’s secrecy was hurting me more than it should.

  I threw the business card onto the table and poured more wine.

  I hated how Adrian had sneaked into my life. Hated how the bond our kids had tugged at my heartstrings and changed things. I wanted Adrian Potter in my life as much as I wished he’d leave the way he came—quickly and without fanfare.

  I hated how there was a dull ache when I thought about the way things had gone tonight. If Sam hadn’t told me, if they hadn’t waited, I never would have known. I could have been in real danger.

  Rationally, I knew I was okay. But irrationally, I wasn’t safe. I was in terrible danger.

  What if I hadn’t known?

  What if, one night, he’d tried to pick me up, and I’d gone?

  What that could have been in real life chilled me to the core of my bones.

  I cradled the glass and leaned my head back. The light, swirling pattern in the white paint on the ceiling mesmerized me and gave me something to focus on.

  I’d never asked for any of this.

  I’d never invited it in, I’d never given it an opening, it had just happened. I’d been given choice after choice since the moment my mother and sister died. The choice to keep Lola had set all these things in motion, but I knew right down to my soul that there was no way I could ever regret that choice.

  Even if it meant both of us would experience a little heartbreak before the year was over.

  Adrian Potter had no place in my life. He never had. That meant Zac Potter had no place in Lola’s—no matter how much that would break her little heart. I had to make good choices now, and that was one of them.

  Remove the Potters from my life.

  Quickly.

  Lights flashed through the window, and a car pulled into my driveway. I knew it was Adrian, almost as if my thoughts had summoned him here. I didn’t move, though. The front door was open because I didn’t care enough to lock it when I’d come in. I’d been numb. Still was.

  Knock, knock. The quiet hits of his knuckles against the door echoed through the silence of downstairs.

  The TV flashed, but there was no sound.

  More knocks.

  A toilet paper commercial danced across the screen, and I stayed, staring at the ceiling.

  The click of the door opening made me sigh.

  “Perrie? Why isn’t your door locked? Fucking hell.”

  Another sigh, and I lifted my heavy head and looked out the door, down the hall. “Come in,” I said dryly. “It’s so nice of you to wait until you’re invited.”

  He closed the door and locked it. “That open door is an invitation to more people than just me. I’m the safest person who could have walked through that.”

  “Really.” My voice was flat.

  He groaned and ran his hand through his hair. He was wearing a light gray t-shirt and ripped jeans just as light blue, so he’d been home before he’d come here. “Sam told me he told you everything.”

  “Yup.” I smacked my lips together and took a sip of my wine.

  “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Perrie.” He sighed. “You were never in—”

  “Don’t.” I held up my hand and, swinging my legs off the sofa, set my glass on a coaster. “Don’t feed that line. I’ve already heard it, and I don’t care what you’re gonna say. You might say I wasn’t, but when he had his arms on me, I sure as hell felt like I was in danger. Goddamn it, Adrian, I had him off me before you guys even knew what going on. So don’t you dare sit in front of me and tell me I wasn’t in danger.”

  He sank into the cushions of the opposite sofa. “We couldn’t tell you. He shouldn’t have even told you that. The operation that has been chasing him for months has been classified. Me and Sam were the only officers in our whole team that knew who and what he was.”

  “You were sending me into the path of a sex trafficker. You could have given me a heads up.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, well that’s all fine, then.” I snorted and stood up. Barefoot, I padded into the kitchen. I definitely should have gone straight for the vodka.

  “Per—”

  “I was right, and you’re sorry, so let’s all move on with a happy bubble of happiness.” I slammed a glass on the side and poured a healthy dose of vodka. I topped it up with lemonade and sipped.

  It burned as it went down.

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Not nearly enough to deal with you tonight.” I had my back to him, and that was the way I wanted to keep it. “The best thing you can do right now is leave me alone. Please.”

  “I saw red when he touched you.”

  “Adrian. Leave.”

  “Sam had take the cuffs off me because if I did it, I would have broken his wrists.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “We never thought he’d touch you. We thought he was going to keep up the pretense of not knowing who you were. We only got the attempted kidnapping charge because the wire told us he was trying to take you against your will. We might not even be able to make that one stick.” He paused. “Meanwhile, the entire department is talking about the badass blond with a hand of steel.”

  I snorted, almost spitting my drink out through my nose. “Sam said his nose was broken.”

  “In two places. That’s a better shot than some of our male officers can give.”

  “Yeah, well.” I folded my arms and turned, leaning against the side of the counter. “When you grow up a Fox and your father has some dodgy business deals, you’re at constant risk. My mother had me in self-defense glasses for a year with refreshers every six months. I thought it was dumb because I was of no value to Benedict, but I’ve needed it a few times.”

  I made the mistake of looking up and into his eyes. Genuine regret swirled in them.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said to him. “I’m angry with you. I’m angry you lied and I’m angry I had to defend myself against him. I’ve been risking my life just to survive for almost Lola’s entire life. When I’m working with the police identifying prostitutes, I should not be in danger or ever feel like that. I’ve been in so many tough situations it hurts to remember them. I’m so angry you put me in one day.”

  If he thought I was overreacting, he didn’t say anything about it.

  “I know what it takes to be a prostitute, Perrie.”

  “Did you moonlight during the police academy?”

  “No, I got one pregnant. Except she was my girlfriend before she was anything else.”

  Oh my god.

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Zac’s mother was a narcissist. She had to be the center of everyone’s world. We were young when we got together, but it wasn’t until she was pregnant that I realized how toxic she was. There was so much focus on the baby and she hated it. She resented him when he was born because everybody cared about him more than her.

  “I found out when Zac was three months old that she’d been prostituting herself since she was eighteen. Most of our relationship. She even did it while she was pregnant, because apparently people like that stuff. We didn’t have a heavy re
lationship then because I was hyper-focused on work, thank god. But she loved it. She loved the attention she got from the men. She literally thrived on being a whore because she was all that mattered.”

  “Oh my god,” I whispered.

  “She was killed when Zac was almost three. Her client was a trafficker, but the drugs he used to knock her out were bad. He was a rookie who had his real name on the hotel. He was pulled in three days later and charged with her murder and a bunch of other shit.”

  I had no idea what to say.

  What was I supposed to say to that?

  “Don’t be sorry for me. I was glad. She was cruel and fought me every step of the way for custody of Zac. She kept her outward appearance squeaky clean and make it hard for me to get custody. I was about to lose him when she died and all the truth came out. There were investigations into why nobody knew she was an addict and prostitute. She was poison, pure and simple.”

  “Does Zac remember her?”

  He shook his head. “No. He knows most of the truth, because my sister has a big mouth. I guess it’s good. Stops him finding out and being mad later. But he’s why I do the job I do. I don’t want another kid to lose their parent because of this.”

  The realization was swift and painful.

  “That’s why you let me go.” My voice was barely a whisper. “You let me go because of Lola.”

  He nodded. Barely, but it was there. “I look into Katie’s eyes so many times when we arrest them. Women who do it for the thrill and because they love it. Because they don’t care. But I didn’t see that in you. I saw someone who was terrified they were going to be punished and lose the only thing they had worth living for in this world.”

  I put my glass down and looked away from him. My lungs constricted, and the tears that burned my eyes had me squeezing them tightly.

  He’d nailed it.

  All the things I’d felt that night we met and I was in the back of his car, he’d nailed it.

  “You didn’t have to let me go,” I said quietly, composing myself.

  “No, I didn’t. But I wanted to. I wanted to change your life for the better.”

  “Yet, here I am, standing in front of you in my kitchen, trying to decide if I’m still angry at you for putting me in the same path that killed your ex.”

  His jaw clenched, but he nodded in agreement. “Fair enough. I can’t argue with that.”

  Goosebumps danced up and down my arms. I rubbed my hands across them to relieve them, but they didn’t go anywhere.

  “Perrie…” Adrian came closer to me, and I stared at the floor, at his sneaker-clad feet. “Nothing would have happened to you tonight. I promise you. I would have broken his fucking neck before anything did.”

  The raw conviction in his voice made my heart thump faster.

  “I don’t need a hero.”

  “I’ll always save you anyway.”

  I met his eyes. His unguarded, shining, honest eyes. “I’m not the person you need to be a superhero for, Adrian. Someone like me has already destroyed your life once.”

  He took my face in his hands. “She’s nothing like you. She couldn’t be any more opposite to you. You are a thousand of who she was. And you don’t get to tell me who I do or don’t need—that’s like me telling you you don’t need me.”

  “I don’t need you,” I said honestly. “But I do want you.”

  He ended the conversation with a kiss.

  All the frustration I’d felt since we’d left the hotel melted away with his lips against mine. The revelations he’d made wound their way into the back of my mind as he pulled me closer and kissed me deeper.

  My entire body sparked to life. His tongue tasted of woody whiskey. Mixed with the burn of his fingers as they traveled my body, I was intoxicated, drowning in him.

  “Please tell me there isn’t a laundry basket on the edge of your bed tonight,” he murmured against my lips, pulling me through the kitchen with an arm clasped around my waist.

  I bit my lower lip and shook my head. “On the floor.”

  “Thank fucking god.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, he kissed me again, sliding his hands down my sides, over my hips, my ass, around my thighs. In one swoop, with a squeak from me, he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist. My pussy pressed against his hard cock, pressure adding every time he took a step up.

  He carried me into my room and lowered me to the bed. I bounced on the mattress, breathing hard. He leaned over me, running his eyes down my body. From my hair to my open legs, his jaw momentarily clenched when he caught sight of my thong.

  “Fucking thong,” he muttered. “Fucking dress. So unnecessary.”

  I stifled a giggle and wound my fingers in his shirt, pulling his mouth back to mine. He kicked his shoes off as he kissed me. His hands worked swiftly to remove his shirt and pull my dress straps down.

  Quick and hungry, he pulled the dress down my body, revealing my bare breasts.

  “Jesus fucking Christ. You’ve been braless all night?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek.

  He groaned, dropping his forehead to mine. “Perrie Fox, you will be the death of me.”

  “There are worse ways to go.” Sitting up, I reached for his belt and unbuckled it. I pulled it over his ass, and he kissed me, tearing my grip from his jeans. My head and shoulders slammed onto the bed, and his kiss was harder, more desperate. One of his hands worked at his jeans while the other teased my nipple.

  I gasped, tilting my head back. Adrian released me for a moment and stood. He stepped out of the jeans, then his boxers. His cock sprung free, thick and long, a vein pulsing along the side. My mouth went dry, my heart thumped. I wanted him.

  No, I needed him. This time it was real. A consuming need that thumped through my veins alongside my desire.

  He pulled a condom from his wallet and undid the packet. The sound of the foil ripped was only interrupted by both of our short breaths. My clit ached unbearably, and he dropped the foil packet to the floor to roll it on.

  His eyes met mine as his fingers reached the base of his cock.

  He leaned over me again, once again positioning himself between my legs. His fingers hooked into the sides of my thong and peeled it down my thighs. I lifted my legs up in front of him and he removed them completely, then, with strong, firm hands, probed his fingers up the insides of my thighs and opened them.

  Closer and closer his hand came until his thumb brushed over my aching clit. It was so sensitive and the touch so fleeting I gasped as a little pleasure rolled through me.

  He touched it again, this time firmer.

  Watched me.

  He watched me as he rubbed his thumb over my clit. Watched me with unbridled desire and a heaving chest. Watched me with flushed cheeks and a hungry need that I felt mirrored in my own body.

  I flung my arm over my eyes as he continued his exploration of my pussy with his hand. His fingers slipped toward me, him angling his wrist so he could keep the pressure on my clit. My hips drifted up to him, my heart beat a thunderous tune in my ears. My chest burned. My skin was on fire. And he was still watching me, I knew he was. Despite the blindness thanks to my forearm, I could feel his gaze on me as he brought me to the brink.

  And stopped.

  His cock replaced his fingers. He rubbed the head of his cock through my wetness from my clit to where he finally pushed inside me. Every inch was slow and torturous, stretching me around him until I took him fully.

  Adrian leaned over. My legs hooked over his hips, around his waist, and my hips tilted to him.

  His fingers trailed along my arms, tickling their path to where he wound them between them and pinned my hands to the bed above my head.

  I opened my eyes.

  The look in his—oh god. They were dark. Dark and stormy and the picture of restraint as he stayed buried in me, perfectly still.

  I lifted my head and kissed him.

  Bit his lower lip.

  Clenched my muscles aro
und him.

  Really bit him as I dragged my teeth across his lip.

  “Oh, now you’re playing nice?” I breathed out the veiled dare.

  He growled and pulled out. Slamming back into me, my back arched, and I closed my eyes. “Nice? Nice is the last thing I want to be right now.”

  I clenched once again. “Don’t hold back on my account.”

  He didn’t.

  He fucked me furiously. Our skin slapped together each time he thrust inside me, and my arms twitched with the need to touch him. To grip his skin, to dig my fingers in, to hold on to him like my life depended it. But he kept my hands there, perfectly still in their place on the bed, tightening his grip on me every time I tried to move.

  So I dug my nails into his hands, instead. Moaned as he fucked me faster and no less hard. Gasped and whimpered and pleaded incoherently as he took me to the brink and back with his long, hard strokes. His kisses were rough and bruising, the result of pent-up frustration escaping him.

  Just when I thought I was going to scream, he kissed me, sliding our clasped hands down, and rocked his hips against me. Once, twice, three times. It pushed me over the edge of the torture he’d been inflicting upon me since he’d thrown me on the bed, and I let it all go.

  Moaned, cried, all into his mouth. He swallowed a scream as blood pumped and pleasure ruled and I gave over to everything that was flooding through my body in that moment.

  His groan into my mouth vibrated through me. I felt it as well as heard it, a cry of pleasure in the same sync as my own, and when he stilled, I could do nothing but lie there, smelling of sweat and sex and satiation.

  He buried his face in my neck. His hair was a sweaty mess, much like I bet mine was. Letting go of my hands, Adrian cupped one side of my face and brought his lips to mine.

  Directly contrasting the way he’d just fucked me, he kissed me softly and sweetly, almost as if he was kissing a wound better.

  I hooked my fingers around the back of his neck and kissed him back.

  “I think we just crossed the line,” he murmured.

  I laughed. Then laughed some more. “No kidding.”

  He sighed as he pulled out of me. My teeth found the tender bit of skin I’d been nibbling on the inside of my neck as he rolled off the condom and searched for the trash can. He found it and dropped it in with a thwack.