by Tessa Bailey
He wasn’t ready to tell her about the evidence he’d destroyed. Not quite. His feelings for Ailish had been given far more time to cultivate and strengthen, whereas she’d known him a grand total of two and a half days. He couldn’t risk her backing off when she realized he’d already given up everything. Time and patience were required here. Once they were free of danger and she’d spent more time with him, he’d reveal the full picture and pray she understood. Pray she didn’t resent him for taking away her choice.
“We need to talk, Ailish.”
She tugged on a strand of hair, eyes suddenly evasive. “Okay, but there’s something I need to tell you first.”
Chapter Nine
Pitiful, Ailish. A man gives you a bushel of orgasms and you’re ready to open the dam, allowing every secret to escape. Maybe she should have waited until her feet were on solid ground again, because right now, they were somewhere near the ceiling, performing a languid ballet dance. Wow. Henrik hadn’t apologized for being rough, but it hadn’t been required. Turned out…she liked being treated that way. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, really, after having a penchant for tantalizing men, that when one snapped and took what he needed, it felt like the ultimate payoff.
Ailish wouldn’t kid herself that sex—or as far as they’d gotten—with just anyone would be so mind-blowing. It was Henrik. In the midst of his aggression, there’d been cherishment. And it had been directed both ways. Which had to account for her immediate need to get closer, reveal the things she’d stored inside for so long, with no one to confide in. Now, though, with sweat beginning to cool on her body, the implications of what she wanted to tell Henrik grew like Jack’s beanstalk and wrapped around her neck. What she had to say could change everything.
No big deal. Play it cool. Ailish reached up and traced the abused skin around Henrik’s eye. “Who did this to you?”
Dark eyes watching her closely, he turned and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I thought you had something to tell me.”
Ailish sat up and snagged one of the bed pillows off the bed, holding it against her body. “That’s right. You left without saying good-bye yesterday and I haven’t forgiven you for it. What are you going to do to win back my favor?”
The corner of Henrik’s mouth twitched. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to change the subject?” When Ailish said nothing, Henrik sighed and moved into a sitting position. “‘Good-bye’ is a word I don’t like associating with you.”
“Oh.” Ailish sniffed, her irritation vanishing in a puff of smoke. “I thought you were going to say you couldn’t do good-bye properly in front of Connor and Erin.”
Henrik looked back at her over his shoulder. “Mmm. That too, baby.”
Warmth snaked into her belly, around her hips. Being near Henrik was like having a lasso around your middle that tightened without any warning. “Did you beat up the man who punched you in the face?”
His shoulders stiffened. “Do you really want to know that?”
“I grew up around violence, Henrik. I hate it, but I’m not scared of it.”
Henrik’s big body shifted on the bed so he was facing her. Ailish tried and failed not to let her gaze stray to his lap, where his erection lounged on his inner thigh. H’oh Lord. We might need to work up to it. No kidding. “I won the match, Ailish. But I don’t want you thinking of me as a man who uses fighting as an outlet.”
She moved a little closer on the bed, running a fingertip over his bruised, taped-up knuckles. “I thought it was just an excuse to get close to my father.” At the mention of Caine, Henrik’s jaw clenched. “But you fight because you like it.”
It took him some time to answer. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try.”
He turned his hand over so Ailish could stroke his palm with nimble fingers. “There’s so much…pretense everywhere. So much we can’t see. But in the ring, it’s clear-cut. Two men after one thing. No bullshit.”
Guilt tracked up Ailish’s spine, but she mentally shook it off. He hadn’t been entirely truthful with her either, had he? She dipped her chin. “Two men after one thing. What is it?”
Henrik’s brows drew together, as if he’d never considered the answer out loud before. “It’s not always the same thing for every man.”
“What is it for you?”
Silence passed. “A reminder that, if I can feel pain, I’m still real. I’m still there. No matter what I’ve lost.” Abruptly, Henrik stood and pulled up his jeans, perusing her as he fastened them around his hips. “Are you going to ask me what happened with your father?”
Ailish was still transfixed by Henrik’s explanation of feeling pain, so the change in topic threw her for a minute. “I was stalling.”
Henrik half smiled. “You say exactly what you’re thinking, don’t you?”
“Not always,” she murmured, tossing aside the pillow to tug down her skirt, but Henrik beat her to the task, pushing aside her hands to slowly replace the garment for her. After her clothing was back in place, big hands slipped down her thighs to apply pressure to both knees, moving them apart. Wide. Wider.
Henrik dipped his head, looking over what he’d revealed for so long, Ailish could feel herself getting wet again before his eyes. “A little forewarning. I’m going to have your pussy again for dinner tonight, baby.”
Ailish’s stomach hollowed out. “Why do I get the feeling you’re changing the subject?”
“You’re nervous about asking me what happened in Chicago. I need you to know everything is going to be okay.” He cradled her neck in one loose hand and guided Ailish back onto the bed, before climbing on top of her fully clothed. Even so, her body was so sensitive from his mouth and hands, the rasping of his jeans along her flesh filled her with shock waves. When her breath started to wheeze in and out, a laugh rumbled through Henrik, who supported himself on two elbows. His amusement eventually gave way to focus, though. “Ailish, your father offered me a job.”
In an instant, her nerves were pulled tighter than an archer’s bow. Although Henrik’s bulk made it impossible, her body tried to jackknife off the bed, moving on pure instinct. “No. No, Henrik. You didn’t…take the job, did you?” She wet her lips. “The money isn’t worth your soul.”
His expression shifted with disappointment. “If I take the offer, it will be in the interest of my job as an undercover player, Ailish. Not because I think it would be a wise career move.”
He was offended, but she didn’t have the room to care just then. Something worse was coming, she could feel it. “He wouldn’t offer you a job without a test of loyalty. What did you promise him?” Ailish whispered the final word, already knowing what the answer would be. She yearned to pace, but he’d obviously pinned her down for a reason, dammit.
“You know what he asked of me.” Henrik leaned down, bringing their faces an inch apart. “But I can’t do it, Ailish. I can’t do anything that could result in you being hurt, baby. Do you see that?”
Ailish commanded her body to relax, but it wouldn’t. She was still battling the fight-or-flight urge. Because he might have laid a bombshell on her, but she had a nuclear weapon. “What choice do you have but to offer me up if you want to go undercover?”
“I’ll find another way. Do you hear me?” Briefly, he closed his eyes. “I haven’t told the squad—or my captain—yet. We have time to figure this out.”
“We. We?” Her eyes started to fill with moisture, but she willed them away. “You don’t know who you’re teaming up with.”
His gaze narrowed, a new awareness hardening the powerful lines of his body. “If you’ve got something to tell me, get it out in the open now. But I’m telling you right now it won’t change anything on my end. Nothing will.”
She shook her head back and forth on the bed. “You’re so sure.” Her breath escaped in stages. “Your captain is targeting Caine’s gambling operation. He wants to bring my father up on charges of racketeering. But what if I told you the police could charge
me with the same thing?”
Henrik stopped breathing above her. “You moved money one time. There is no longer any evidence of it. You’re in the clear.”
“No.” A rippling started along her insides, creating sharp edges and peaks. “The morning we had breakfast, you told me the Bookie Cookie was the main target. She runs the operation behind the scenes, formulating odds and managing debts. But no one has gotten access to her, only heard the name passed around among my father’s inner circle.” Again, she resented Henrik for pinning her down, because she desperately wanted to hide her face. “I’m her. I’m the Bookie Cookie.”
...
A denial clogged Henrik’s throat, refusing to be swallowed. This couldn’t be real. How had he missed this? He stared down into her innocent face, her demeanor the opposite of hardened. No, she was fresh and untainted by the life she’d been born into. That judgment would never be swayed. This couldn’t be possible, could it?
“Say something,” she whispered.
“I’m waiting for you to tell me you’re kidding.”
Her body moved in a shrug beneath him. “I wish I could.” She turned her face to the side, giving him a view of the pink blotches decorating her neck. “The way I see it, you have two choices. Take me back to Chicago and let your friends interrogate me until I give them what they want. Or drag me back to Caine where he can lock me up. Force me to create numbers that could end in people dying or losing their life savings. Just pick one.”
Another section of the big picture clicked into place. “This is why you wanted prison time,” he murmured. “You’re the oddsmaker.”
“Yes,” she sobbed.
God, the heartsick resignation in her usually buoyant voice was going to kill him. He’d been thrown the fuck off, yeah. No sugarcoating it. But it was time she learned that when he promised her something, he meant it, come hell or high water. And both were headed in their direction, make no mistake. “I’m not going to do either of those things. Are we clear? I’m still here. I’m still looking at Ailish. And I know you ran away so you didn’t have to be a part of that shit anymore. I thank God for it.” She turned hopeful but wary eyes on him. “So now we’re going to get you clear for good. Okay? You with me?”
She scrutinized him. “I don’t know how I can be with you when I don’t understand where your conviction comes from. About me. I just told you I’m a bad person—as culpable as my father—and you barely flinch.”
“Not as culpable. Not even close. And you let me worry about my convictions, all right? The thing about convictions is they run on faith.” He rubbed their mouths together, relieved as hell when her lips stayed soft, pliant. “Now I need you to have it in me.”
Ailish lifted her knee, dropping his hips further into the cradle of her thighs. An uncontrived move, but one that got his juices flowing like a swift river current nonetheless. “I’m trying,” she said, her tone tinged with frustration. “It’s not a familiar concept to me.”
“I’m a patient man, baby. Except when it comes to your body.” He took her hands and lifted them above her head. “So here’s what we’re going to do.” A slow thrust of his hips made her lips pop open. “We’re going to take a shower so I can wash off the road, while looking at you naked. And then we’re going to start seeing our way clear of this. We. Do you understand?”
“I understand you’re high-handed.” She lifted the other knee and curved her feet around his ass, rubbed them up and down, shifting his hard-on against her pussy. “Can I think about the rest after we shower?”
That was all Henrik needed to hear. He hauled her clinging form off the bed, took two steps to immerse them in the dark bathroom, and kicked the door shut. He’d taken a shower that morning, didn’t necessarily need one now. But he wanted to see Ailish in the place where he’d pleasured himself to her memory countless times. Wanted to see the suds sliding down her tits, water dampening the little red patch of hair shielding her sweet spot.
And shit, Henrik needed a moment. Derek wouldn’t be understanding about Ailish’s hidden identity. Even if the captain was taking an uncharacteristic break from being a hard-ass, he would want to use Ailish to the team’s advantage, citing the greater good. A safer city. Goals Henrik understood and shared, but not at the cost of Ailish’s freedom or happiness. Hell, now that she’d run and apparently left Caine in the lurch, her life was even more at stake than before.
That scary realization had Henrik propping Ailish—legs still circling his waist—up against the bathroom wall and stripping off her shirt. Two cherry-tipped tits bounced in front of his mouth and yeah, he choked out a hallelujah in their honor. They were sweet and young and made him feel fucking dirty, no denying it. Big breasts had always done it for him, but never again. Give him Ailish’s I-can-take-or-leave-a-bra sized sweethearts any day of the week and he’d rejoice like a sex-starved lecher.
It only got better when he sucked one little cherry into his mouth and Ailish moaned, back arching, fingers digging into his shoulders, like she felt the tug down below. The one that would slick up her pussy, make her ready for what was in his pants. “Fuck yeah,” he growled, taking another merciless pull. “I can’t wait to watch you ride me topless, climbing up and down my dick, crying about how deep it reaches.” He palmed the breast he’d been sucking, spreading moisture with the pad of his thumb. “You know that long, thick vein that runs along the underside of my cock, Lish? You should, since your tongue gave it a bath earlier.” He pushed up with his hips and let her drop, that tight body sliding down his erection. “I’m going to make you shake those tits while I’m inside you, so you can feel that vein throb.”
For the space of a breath, Henrik thought he might have scandalized her, so he was unprepared for Ailish to unbutton his pants. She made quick work of the zipper, before her hand disappeared through the opening to wrap around his cock. She pressed four fingers against the vein in question, eyes going bright with excitement. Knowing what was coming didn’t prepare Henrik for Ailish to shake her tits, just a few quick twists of her body that made them sway one way, then the other. It didn’t matter that he’d spent himself only minutes before. Pressure built at the base of his spine, warning him. Again, again.
“You’re right,” she breathed. “It does throb.”
Henrik yanked her forward with an arm around the waist, attacking her mouth with a hot, slippery kiss as he walked her backward toward the shower. Without allowing her mouth to escape, he shoved aside the plastic curtain and fumbled for the shower handle, kicking off his jeans as the water began to pelt the shower basin. Desperate to touch Ailish, he tested the temperature long enough to know it wouldn’t burn them, before running his hands down her back and lifting her into the tiled shower stall. Barely having the presence of mind to close the curtain behind them, Henrik accomplished the feat nonetheless, enclosing them in wet, heavy darkness. It was like being trapped inside one of his own fantasies, except this was an experience for all five senses.
The girl wore nothing but a skirt, and the material was damp in seconds, conforming to her pussy and thighs like clear plastic wrap. Water sprayed onto her tits, slid down her legs, beaded on her parted lips. He watched as her inquisitive gaze ran down his body, snagging on his arousal, before rising again. Her fingers fumbled with the hem of his wet T-shirt, lifting it as far as she could over his head, before their height difference prevented her from lifting any farther.
She left the shirt plastered against his collarbone to run smooth palms up and over his pecs. “I like that you’re so much bigger than me. I like that you ask permission…but you don’t really need it,” Ailish said, her voice lacing in between the shower spray. “Can I climb up and get closer to your mouth? It doesn’t seem fair that you’re always having to bend down.”
Ah, Jesus. Now was not a good time for his heart to lurch and splatter against his ribs. He was man enough to admit she’d scared him, revealing her role in Caine’s operation. That admission had made it more difficult to keep her guard
ed. And when she said things like can I climb up and get closer…it doesn’t seem fair, he wanted to gather her up and let his remaining walls crumble to the ground. It also made him want something else really goddamn bad. “If you climb me, baby, nothing is going to come between me and that pussy. I just came not ten minutes ago and that means I could go for an hour right about now. You won’t walk straight for a week.”
Henrik couldn’t remember having been compelled to speak so crudely to a woman in his entire life. It made no sense that the one he would do anything to keep should bring that side out of him, when he should be proving his worth. Proving he could be affectionate. Or maybe it made perfect sense, because Ailish loved it. Henrik could tell by the way her eyelids fluttered a little as he spoke, the way her hands slid down the sides of her hips, lingered there. “I guess you should come down here, then,” she said.
Don’t have to tell me twice. Henrik snagged Ailish’s left hand from its perch on her hip, trapping it above her head. When he swooped in to capture her mouth, she did this little pull-away move, tease that she was, which only made him hotter and more eager. She paid for evading him with a punishing kiss, the kind that had been created as a prelude to fucking, heads tilting to get maximum access, teeth bumping. With water sluicing down their faces, not a care was given about being messy, tongues licking against each other in desperation.
His balls weighed down between his thighs, as if his body knew shower time equaled relief. He had no choice but to drop his right hand and cup them, massage them in a steady rhythm so unlike the frenetic kiss happening above.
Ailish pulled away, sucking in huge gulps of breath, her wet head falling back against the shower stall. “Oh…my God. Does everyone kiss like that?”
“Everyone wishes they kissed like that.”
She looked up at him from beneath dripping eyelashes, wildfire brightening her cheeks. “You’re very arrogant sometimes.”
He bent down and sucked her lower lip between his teeth, releasing it when she whimpered. “How do you know I wasn’t complimenting you?”
