Bound by Blood Box Set

by Lane Hart

  I can't believe I'm just going to stay with him after meeting him a few hours ago, but I feel incredibly safe with him, for the first time in so damn long. He's a police officer, and he clearly takes his promise to serve and protect seriously. And his eyes, God, his eyes are intense and beautiful - a bluish-green, just like the pictures of the sun shining on the sparkling waters of the Caribbean Sea. There's so much sadness in them though, and too much weariness for someone so young to have. But the steady determination in those amazing eyes tells me he won't stop until he's sure I'm safe. Every time he touches me or his gaze meets mine there's a soul seeking warmth I've never experienced before, and I'm desperate for more.

  "Where are we going?" I ask, and Maddox comes to an abrupt stop. Looking down at our clasped hands he quickly lets me go, like he didn't even realize what he'd done. Now I wish I hadn't said anything.

  "My apartment. If that's okay? I guess I should've asked you first," he responds, spearing his fingers through his hair, making it look sexy and messy. "This certainly isn’t protocol, but if you want, you can stay with me until one of the shelters has an opening. You'll be safe from him. I can promise you that." He holds my eyes when he assures me, and I believe him.

  "Okay. I trust you, and I know that not all men are assholes like Mitch," I tell him. The corners of his lips lift into a small smile. The first one I've seen from him all day.

  "Good, because I just want to help you get away from him, and I swear I won't lay a hand on you," he says, before shoving his hands into his pants pockets as if to keep them from accidentally touching me again.

  I nod, grateful that he wants to take care of me after receiving only the opposite of that from a man for so long. I can't say I'm completely happy about him promising not to touch me though. "Can I go by and grab a few things from my apartment?" I ask.

  "Sure. Let me check to make sure he's still in lock up first, and if so I'll clock out for the night and we can head that way." He speaks into the radio on his shoulder for a few minutes, then said we're good to go.

  Back in our recently demolished apartment, Officer Maddox sits on the edge of the bed, playing on his cell phone while I pack a suitcase. The handsome man looks exhausted, and I wonder how long he's been working. He's been with me for at least four hours now, and I had no idea what he'd been doing in the hours before Mitch had gone ballistic when I didn't buy any beer at the grocery store.

  "So, what's your first name?" I ask and he looks up from his texting or emailing.

  "Jason. Sorry," he says shaking his head. "I should've told you that before."

  Jason is a cute name for a cute man. More than cute, in fact without the facial hair he would almost look...feminine, he's so beautiful. But the man in front of me is anything but soft. His body is sexy and strong, certainly looking capable of catching bad guys and then loving a woman until she probably forgets her own name.

  "Thank you for doing this Jason. I know you'll get in trouble if anyone finds out, and I should probably suck it up and stay here. But I just…I need a break, because I don't know how much more I can take." I wipe the dampness from my eyes with the long sleeves of my hot winter sweater.

  "I'm so sorry, Cyn," he says with sincerity in his weary eyes. I can't help but smile at the nickname I haven't heard in a while. "What?" he asks.

  "My brothers call me Cyn," I tell him, as I dry my face then grab a few more pairs of jeans and toss them in the suitcase.

  "Is that okay? I have a bad habit of shortening peoples' names, which is sort of funny since I absolutely hate when someone calls me Jay or Jas," he tells me.

  "Yeah. Cyn's nice. Nicer than the 'goddamn it woman' I'm used to hearing."

  His jaw clenches but I turn around before he can comment. Heading for the bathroom, I grab all my toiletries to throw them in an overnight bag, then I'm ready to go. More than ready. I never want to see this apartment again.

  Jason insists on carrying my two pieces of luggage for me. Thankfully his apartment is only a few blocks from mine, so we decide to walk. We stop to grab a quick dinner on the way, hot dogs from a street vendor that we sit on a bench and eat in companionable silence, enjoying the warm July night.

  "Do you live alone?" I ask while we wait for the elevator in the lobby of his apartment building. I'm suddenly worried he's married or has a live-in girlfriend that'll be pissed he's letting me stay.

  "No," he responds with a sigh, and for whatever reason my stomach twists with jealousy. "I hope you're okay with dogs and aren’t allergic or anything. I should've told you that before now, but…I'm just not thinking straight tonight."

  "You have a dog? What kind?" I ask with a smile as we step onto the elevator and he pushes the number four. I exhale in relief that there isn't a woman waiting in his apartment.

  "A golden retriever. His name's Max and he's a big, lazy softie."

  "I love dogs, but have never been much of a cat person. The ones I've met always seem so grumpy."

  "Yeah, I don't care for cats either. Dogs are much more loyal and make better companions," he says, giving me another small smile before the elevator doors open on the fourth floor. We head down the hall to the very last door on the left. Jason has his keys already out and uses them to open the two locks.

  A big, blond dog is waiting on the other side of the door he holds open for me. His tail is wagging briskly, clearly happy to see his owner again. He gives my leg a sniff then bumps my hand with his big head for a rub, which I give him.

  "He likes you since he didn't bark his head off," Jason tells me, sitting my luggage down on the living room floor. "But he likes almost everyone. Let me take him out and I'll be right back." He grabs a retractable blue leash from behind the door and then they head back in the direction of the elevator.

  I take a few more steps into his apartment while he's gone. Looking around, it isn't what I was expecting for a bachelor. Unlike Mitch's when I first moved in, it's clean and tidy, nothing out of place but a few stuffed dog toys in front of a big dog bed across from the front door. Only the necessary furniture sits in the living room, a big black leather couch, coffee table and huge flat screen TV mounted above a fireplace with completely empty walls. It's very impersonal except for two photos, like he could easily pick up and move on a short notice.

  My eyes are instantly drawn to the five by seven picture frames sitting on the mantle above the gas logs so I walk over to get a closer look. The photos are of two beautiful women that have to be related to each other and to Jason, since the resemblance is so obvious. Especially the younger woman.

  "Is this your mother and sister?" I ask Jason when he comes back in with Max.

  "Yeah."

  "They're beautiful. And you and your sister look so much alike." The woman also looks familiar for some reason, even though I can't place where I've seen her.

  "Liz and I were twins." My chest tightens when he said "were," as in the past tense.

  "What happened to her?"

  "She died in childbirth years ago."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry Jason. What about your mother?" I look over my shoulder and ask him while he pours food and water into Max's bowls.

  He gives a quick shake of his head. "She died in a car wreck about nine months before Liz died."

  "Oh my God, you lost them both unexpectedly within a year? They were both so young." My eyes water just imagining his pain. I've never really been close to my mother and father since my grandma basically raised us while they worked. Still, I couldn't fathom how much it'd hurt to lose them and one of my older brothers. I love Chase and Connor to death. I'd almost bet Jason had been closer to his twin than I am to my brothers.

  "If I hadn't lost my mom, I wouldn't have lost my sister," he says briskly.

  An auto accident and a birth were connected? Nine months apart? I don't understand.

  I turn around and Jason's suddenly standing just a foot away from me, holding out tissues. He'd lost his sister and mother and he's giving me tissues because I'm crying.

&
nbsp; "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't be giving me tissues for the loss of your family members."

  One of the corners of his mouth lifts. "It's sweet. Thank you."

  When I dab my left eye, I flinch, forgetting how tender it is. "How's your eye feeling?" Jason asks as he studies it with a frown. "Do you need any more ice for it, or ibuprofen?"

  "Oh no, it's fine," I assure him, reaching up to cover it with my hair, and then forgetting it's pulled up. That Jason had pulled it up earlier. The gesture had been so…intimate. Feeling his masculine hands touching me so gently, it'd taken my breath away.

  A few seconds pass while we just stand there staring at each other, both of us at a loss for words while something warms the space between us. Finally Jason clears his throat and takes a step backwards. "So, you can sleep in my bed and I'll take the couch while you're here."

  "No. I can sleep on the couch. I feel bad enough about having to stay with you. I'm definitely not going to kick you out of your own bed."

  "You're sleeping in my bed, end of discussion. Let me get a shower and change, then I'll be out of the way. Yeah, the um, bathroom is down the hall on your left, bedroom is on the right, and help yourself to anything in the kitchen," he tells me, gesturing to it behind him as he walks away.

  While he's gone I pull my hot sweater over my head, and remove my jeans and shoes, deciding to sleep in a purple tank top and a pair of cotton pajama bottoms from my suitcase. There's a soft blue and black fleece throw blanket on his black leather couch, so I stretch out and spread it over top of me. The couch is cool against my warm body, and so nice and cozy. I can't help but close my eyes and relax as I sink down into it.

  When I feel a poke to my forearm I wake up to Max panting right in front of my face. Jason's standing behind him with his hands on his hips, wearing nothing but black athletic shorts that dip incredibly low on his waist. Good God almighty the man works out.

  "What are you doing?" he asks softly, like he's afraid to raise his voice at me.

  "Sleeping."

  "Please take the bed. Max is a bed hog, but it's better than the couch."

  "I'm okay here. Thank you Jason. Go get some sleep, you look tired."

  He sighs, stabbing his fingers through his still damp, dark hair. My eyes are drawn to where the muscles tighten and flex in his shoulder and thick bicep with the movement. Then my gaze skips right on over to his chest, that's broad and completely smooth, just like his rippled stomach. There isn't even a hint of a treasure line between the two slanted 'V' indentions that lead below the elastic of his shorts. I force my eyes to stop there and go back up to his, which reflect some sort of confusion.

  "Suit yourself," he mumbles, then he turns around and is gone, heading down the short hallway. Oh and the man's backside is just as nice as the front, with muscles I've never seen before and a firm ass that begs to be squeezed.

  I let out the breath I've been holding during my perusal, and my cheeks warm, knowing he obviously realized I'd been checking him out. I blame my roaming eyes entirely on him. It's his fault for not wearing more clothes and flaunting his hotness in front of me.

  Oh God, what am I doing? I can't afford to think of him that way. With the baggage I have, even Jason isn't strong enough to carry it around, and I won't let him even if he wanted to or could. My baggage is ruthless, and would come after him if he ever found out Jason had looked sideways at me, much less let me sleep in his apartment.

  Chapter Three

  Jason

  I've just laid down in bed and am trying not to think about the woman sleeping on my couch or how she had clearly been checking me out. The domestic violence victim sleeping on my couch I remind myself, when the intercom suddenly buzzes.

  Who the fuck?

  Oh shit!

  I was so distracted by my beautiful, temporary roommate that I'd forgotten what day it is. Just like every Friday night for the past several weeks, that would be Melissa.

  I jump up out of bed and run through the living room to the front door. Cyn is sitting up on the couch, the blanket pooling around her waist. I can't help the double take at all the ivory skin showing, then force my eyes away.

  "Sorry Cyn, I completely forgot I had company coming over," I tell her as I buzz the entry button.

  Shit. Do I tell Melissa to go, or do I let her stay? The lower half of my body is in a huge disagreement with the upper half, especially after the slow, heated look Cyn had given me.

  Time's up. A knock sounds at the door causing Max to bark. I tell him to hush and sit before pulling it open and flashing a smile that I hope looks sincere to Melissa. She's grinning from ear to ear, seeming as happy and peppy as usual with her short, chin length blonde hair pushed behind her ears. Her tight jeans and snug t-shirt look as good as always on her curvy frame, but she just isn't doing it for me tonight.

  "Hey Jay," she greets me, and I try not to cringe at the shortened moniker.

  "Hey Mel," I reply. "Listen, I should've called you. Um, I have company tonight so maybe we should…"

  "You've got company? Is it a woman? Are you seeing someone else?" she asks, ducking underneath my arm that's holding the door open and storming past me into the apartment.

  Actually I am seeing someone else, two someone else’s, not that I’m going to admit that shit to Mel.

  "This is Cy- Cecilia," I say, deciding to go with a made up name and story to protect her identity and protect my job. "She's just a friend that's staying here while her apartment's being renovated."

  Cyn waves a small hand in greeting from the couch.

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Melissa whirls back around to ask me, her face darkening and her lips pursed in anger.

  "Um, it just sort of came up at the last minute."

  "And I'm supposed to believe that you're not screwing her?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and making me cringe, because she'd said it loud enough for Cyn to hear.

  "What? No. She's sleeping on the couch," I gesture in her direction and try not to look over at her. "Would she be sleeping on the couch if I was screwing her?" I ask. No, she'd be in my bed, preferably underneath me, which is where I'd been imagining her when the damn door buzzed.

  "I guess not. You wouldn't be able to get her out of your bed if you were screwing her," Melissa says, dropping her arms from her chest and reaching forward to crook her index finger down the front elastic of my shorts.

  "Maybe we should just try and get together next Friday instead."

  "Oh, you have to work this weekend too?" she asks with an annoyingly childish pout.

  No, but that reminds me I have two more women to cancel on. "Yep, sorry."

  "I can't stay for just a little while tonight?" she asks, looking up at me from her big brown puppy dog eyes. Stepping closer with her back blocking Cyn's view, Mel's whole hand disappears down into my nylon shorts and strokes my cock that's already semi-aroused.

  "Well, um, maybe you could, ah, stay for a few minutes since you came all the way over," I reply, giving into her small touch like a teenage boy. What can I say? Kryptonite was Superman's weakness. Women are mine.

  "That's what I thought," she says with a smile. Releasing my cock she grabs a handful of fabric on the front of my shorts and drags me along behind her down the hall to my bedroom.

  I have a second of guilt of what I'm about to do with Cyn in the living room, but it's my damn apartment. I make the mistake of glancing over at her, and see her fair cheeks have turned pink. I mouth a sorry to her and then I'm standing in my bedroom, stripped of my shorts, with Melissa on her knees in front of me.

  ...

  The next morning I'm up bright and early at nine a.m. for a short run with Max. I need to triple our regular distance, but Max is just as lazy as I am, so we come right back. Cyn was asleep when we left but in the shower when we return. Walking past the bathroom to my bedroom I can smell the sweet apple scent of her shampoo oozing out from under the door. I make myself think of the night before with Melissa instead of picturing Cyn i
n my shower, naked as she washes her long strawberry blonde hair, warm water and soap suds cascading down her perfect curves. Nope, I'm definitely not thinking about any of that.

  I throw on a t-shirt because at the moment I can't take another heated look in my direction or I'm going to pounce on her, then start frying sausage patties while waiting on a can of biscuits to cook. Without looking up I know when Cyn comes back into the living room. Max takes off in that direction, his nails tapping on the wooden floor as he runs to her.

  "Morning," I call out.

  "Morning."

  "Did you sleep okay on the couch?" I ask, finally letting my eyes drink her in. Damn it, now I'm getting hard in these thin as fuck shorts seeing her cleavage on display in the tight tank top.

  "Yeah, thanks. I slept great after your guest left," she replies, rubbing Max without even a glance in my direction. I feel heat rise up my neck. I didn't think we'd been that loud, and I'd gotten rid of her after an hour.

  "Sorry. I forgot it was Friday, and that she was coming over."

  "She comes over every Friday?" she asks, turning away from me to sit cross-legged on the couch.

  "Yeah, pretty much."

  "Just Friday?"

  "Yep," I respond.

  "So, who comes over on Saturday and Sunday?"

  I sigh and consider lying, but just say screw it. "Amanda on Saturdays and Courtney on Sundays, when I'm not working."

  "Busy weekend."

  "Yeah."

  "And I take it from the reaction of the one last night that they don't know about each other?" Cyn asks.

  "Um, no."

  "And they think you work on the other days they don't see you?"

  "Yeah."

  "I had no idea you were such a...player," she says the last word like it could easily be substituted with "jerk" or "asshole." I really didn't want her to see me that way.