Playing Dirty

by Tiffany Snow

  I shrugged. His reaction—or non-reaction—was making me feel stupid.

  “You and I are … incredible together,” he said, his hands moving to my ass and pulling me closer. “But frankly, sex is easy to find. It’s the rest of it … the laughs, the fun we have … well that, not so much. And honestly, I wouldn’t have stuck around this long if you weren’t you.”

  His words made me smile and that hard little knot inside my chest melted away.

  He put his lips by my ear. “Though that dress is worth fantasizing about taking off you.”

  A thrill of desire shot through me as another song came on with a grinding beat. “That depends on how good of a dancer you are,” I teased.

  “Oh, I can dance.”

  And boy, could he. Not the swing-me-around, spin-me-around kind of dancing. But the kind of up-close stylized dirty dancing I’d watched Patrick Swayze do with Jennifer Grey in one of my favorite movies of all time. I’d had dance lessons for years as a kid, but rarely had run across a man who could not only dance, but lead. Ryker was amazing and I wasn’t surprised that we fit as well together on the dance floor as we fit in bed.

  A sudden commotion off to my right made both of us turn. It looked like there was a fight going on. I squinted.

  “It’s that Lucas guy,” I said.

  It looked like the blonde had a boyfriend who had a big problem with Lucas hitting on his girl.

  Oops.

  Even though the fight started with just two guys, others were gleefully joining the melee. In seconds, we were engulfed in a crowd pressing against us. Some were trying to get out of the way, others trying to join. It took only a moment for me to be separated from Ryker.

  The crowd swept me away and I lost sight of him. Things were getting crazy and I looked frantically for Megan, Maggie, or Kelly, but saw none of them.

  It maybe wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d been moved in the direction of the doors, but instead I was forced farther inside, closer to the fight. Someone pushed hard against my back and I in turn got shoved into someone else. I was unsteady on my feet and when someone pushed again, I tripped and went down.

  Now I started to get scared. Legs and feet were all around me, someone instantly stepping on my hand. I couldn’t get enough room to get back up and another person tripped over me, falling and landing half-sprawled on top.

  People were screaming and yelling over the music which, for some reason, was still playing. I could hear the sounds of men shouting and glass breaking somewhere close.

  A knee connected with the back of my head, and I cried out in pain, frantically trying to get leverage to at least get to my knees or something, but I kept being knocked down as more people surged around me and another body fell.

  Panic gripped me. Now I knew what it was like to be close to being trampled to death. If I didn’t find a way to get up on my feet, people were going to start stepping on me rather than over or around me.

  Sirens sounded in the distance, growing closer, but I was terrified it would be too late by the time they got to me. Someone’s booted foot hit hard into my side, knocking the breath out of me with a sharp pain. For a few precious seconds, I couldn’t move. Something caught in my hair, yanking it. I yelled, grasping for whatever it was and freeing my hair. But I didn’t have enough hands or space or time to get up.

  There was a sudden clearing of space around me and I tried to stand, my limbs shaking, but before I could, I was lifted off the floor and into a man’s arms.

  Ryker.

  It was hard to see his face clearly in the bad lighting, but there was no mistaking it was him.

  I clung to his neck as he fought his way through the crowd, yelling “CPD!” It was amazing how people paused just long enough at the sound of those letters for us to pass by. In mere moments we were out on the street.

  I didn’t know where he was carrying me; I only knew I felt safe now. After a few moments, he stopped and let me slide down to my feet.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his fingers beneath my chin lifting my face up.

  I looked at him and gasped. In the light from the streetlamps, I could see a cut above his eye and one on his lip, and there was a bruise already darkening his cheek.

  “You’re hurt!” But he caught my hand as I reached for his face.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Tell me where you’re hurt.”

  I took quick inventory, but nothing was broken. “Just some bumps and bruises, I think.”

  “Sage!”

  Turning, I saw Megan, Kelly, and Maggie rushing toward me. Relief surged. “Thank God you’re okay,” I said, hugging Megan.

  “That was insane,” Maggie said. “I didn’t know if we were going to get out of there.”

  “So everyone’s okay?” I asked. They all nodded. Sirens screamed as fire trucks and police cars pulled up. More people were streaming from the entrance to the building. We all turned to watch for a minute.

  “I think it’s time to go,” Megan said. “Wanna share a cab?”

  Maggie and Kelly were quick to agree, but Ryker stepped in. “I’m going to take Sage home, if that’s all right with you ladies?”

  Megan grinned and grabbed Maggie’s arm. “You bet. Catch you later.” They hurried to pile into a waiting cab.

  “Don’t you have to go with the cops or something?” I asked.

  “There’s plenty of them to handle it,” he said. “You need me more.”

  A true statement, and I was relieved he didn’t have to go. I was still shaky from the experience of nearly getting trampled to death. Ryker must have realized that, because he slid a supportive arm around my back and led me to where he’d parked his truck.

  Forgoing the seatbelt, I scooted right up next to him as he drove and rested my head against his shoulder. He drove with one hand and put his arm around me, pulling me closer.

  We didn’t say much on the way back and it wasn’t until we were back in my apartment that I finally relaxed. I grabbed us each a bottle of water from the fridge and then got some bandages and a clean cloth from the bathroom.

  “Let me patch you up,” I said, coming back into the kitchen. I’d barely set down my supplies when Ryker spun me around.

  “Patch me up?” he asked, looking horrified. “Have you looked in a mirror? You’re covered in bruises.”

  Glancing down at myself, I saw with some surprise that he was right. My legs were bruised and my dress was a sad, stained, and torn shadow of its former self. My face fell.

  “Dammit. I really liked this dress.”

  “Screw the dress,” Ryker said. “You were nearly killed tonight. If I hadn’t been there—”

  “Let’s not think about if you hadn’t been there,” I interrupted. Though the image of Ryker swooping me up in his arms to rescue me like Superman in the movies would live in my memory for a long time.

  “How about I take care of you.” Drawing me toward the bathroom, he sat me down on the toilet lid, then crouched in front of me to slip off my heels.

  He started the bathwater going, then disappeared back into the bedroom. When he came back, I saw he was barefoot and had discarded his shoes, jacket, holster, and weapon.

  Standing me up, he slid the zipper down in the back of my dress, letting it puddle on the floor at my feet. Then he crossed his arms over his chest to drag the hem of his shirt up and over his head. The metal of his dog tags clinked as they dropped against his chest.

  I reached around to unhook my bra, but he stopped me.

  “Let me.”

  He undid the clasp and slipped the straps from my shoulders and down my arms, then drew my panties down my legs.

  I felt very exposed and slightly awkward, especially with his head inches from my—

  “I’ve never had a cop draw my bath before,” I joked, trying to ease my own discomfort. “Does the CPD do manis and pedis, too?”

  “I’ll do whatever you want me to, babe,” he said, pressing his lips to my abdomen, just under my navel. Holy shit.
Then he stood and I could breathe again.

  “The hot water will help with the aches you’re going to have tomorrow,” he said, taking my hand as I tentatively put one foot in the water. Just this side of scalding … perfect.

  I let out a long sigh as I sank down in the water. I winced a bit as the scrapes on my knees were submerged, but felt so much better already.

  Ryker sat on the edge of the tub and reached for my soap and loofah. He lathered like a pro, then gently washed my hands and arms. Scooting down the side of the tub, he set my foot on his thigh as he soaped up my leg, mindful of the bruises.

  It was super sweet of him and I enjoyed watching the play of muscles in his chest and arms as he worked. The water had steamed up the room so there was a light sheen on his skin.

  Expecting him to join me in the tub when he was done, I was surprised when he stood, saying, “Soak as long as you want. I’ll wait outside.” Then he was out the door before I could say anything.

  Okay, that was weird. Deciding to finish the bath, I drained the tub and got out, hurriedly taking off my makeup and shrugging into the robe hung on the back of the door.

  I found him sitting in my bed, ankles crossed as he watched the television. He glanced up.

  “That was quick,” he said. “Feeling better?”

  “Yeah, but why’d you leave? I thought you’d join me.” Discarding the robe, I saw his gaze drop and the Adam’s apple in his throat moved as he swallowed.

  “Thought you might want some time to relax,” he said.

  Climbing onto the bed, I lay beside him.

  “I didn’t get to thank you for coming to my rescue.” Ryker had cleaned the blood off his face, but he’d be sporting bruises of his own tomorrow. “And here you said you didn’t want to get into a bar fight tonight.”

  His lips twitched. “I hate bar fights,” he said. “But for you, apparently it doesn’t matter. When I saw you go down, getting to you was all I could think about.”

  “My hero,” I said with a soft smile. His dog tags glinted in the light from the television and I wrapped the chain around my finger, giving it a small tug.

  Ryker leaned over me, pressing his lips to mine. I was just getting into the kiss when I felt him draw the covers up over me. I reached for the fastening to his jeans, but he stopped me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He looked at me, his eyes serious and his hand cupping my jaw. “I want you to know, really know, that I’m in it for more than the sex. And if you can’t believe me when I say it, then I’ll show you.”

  My heart turned over inside my chest and something I’d been holding back felt as though it had been loosened.

  “You already have,” I said. “Showing up tonight like that, getting caught up in a bar fight, getting me out of there in one piece …” I love you hovered on the tip of my tongue but for some reason, I couldn’t say it.

  This bothered me, but now wasn’t the time for a prolonged session of introspection, so I shoved the thought aside and kissed him again.

  “But that doesn’t mean I can’t … relax … you,” he murmured against my lips.

  “What do you—”

  Before I could finish he was sliding down my body, his lips fastening around a nipple and robbing the words from my tongue. His mouth was hot against my chilled skin and my eyes slid shut.

  Ryker was a very physical guy, and he put his whole body into sex. So while his mouth was busy at my breasts, his hands were roaming, brushing down my sides to my hips, caressing my thigh and the tender skin behind my knee. He still wore jeans, the denim causing a soft friction that made me acutely aware of the more sensitive areas of my body.

  His tongue flicked out, teasing my nipple, his thumb gently rubbing the other, and the dual sensation made me send up a prayer of appreciation for Ryker’s ability to multitask.

  He slid farther down, sending a shiver across my belly when his tongue dipped into my navel. Pressing openmouthed kisses to my hip, he nudged my legs farther apart, wide enough for his shoulders.

  I made a noise and tried to squeeze my legs closed. I usually had to be a bit drunker for this. Ryker didn’t understand. He was an all-in kind of guy, oral activities included, and was really, really good. But again, alcohol helped.

  “C’mon, babe,” he said, his voice a soft rasp. “Relax. I wanna taste you so bad.” He braced his hands inside my knees, forcing them apart with too much strength for me to resist. Not that I was putting up a full-on fight, but still. Absurdly, his aggressiveness turned me on even more when the logical part of my brain said I should be mad about it. But the body doesn’t lie and heat flooded my core.

  Ryker groaned, his mouth fastened to my inner thigh as he sucked. Distantly, I realized I’d have a hickey there tomorrow, but it wasn’t like anyone would see.

  His hands moved to my thighs, spreading me farther, and before I could protest or try to resist, his mouth was on me.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, my head falling back on the pillow.

  Thoughts of embarrassment or shyness went right out the window as Ryker proceeded to show me just how well he did this sort of thing. My hands clutched at his hair as his tongue did things to me that had to be illegal in at least nine counties.

  I was saying things and moaning and God only knows what all when everything came to a head (figuratively speaking). Stars and comets and exploding nuclear bombs paled in comparison to the orgasm that overtook me and left me shaking and boneless in its aftermath.

  Ryker crawled up my body, making pit stops on the way to press a kiss to my abdomen, then lick a trail up between my breasts to my collarbone, his tongue dipping in the hollow at the base of my neck. Finally, his lips met mine and I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him close as we kissed so deeply I could taste myself on his tongue. Yowza.

  He pulled back and I mewled in disappointment. Chuckling softly, he said, “Not tonight, babe.”

  Pulling me spoon-style against him, he tucked me close and pulled the covers up around us. Although I could feel the hard press of his erection against my backside, he didn’t make any other move.

  His hand lay against my stomach and I stared into the darkness. Ryker was great, he really was. Tonight had been … amazing. Eye-opening. I hadn’t trusted his feelings for me before, but now I did.

  The problem was … how did I feel about him? I loved him, right? Yet, I’d been unable to say it, and I didn’t know why. That bothered me. But maybe I just needed more time. I’d never told a man I loved him before, not like this.

  Of course I told myself I didn’t know why, though deep down inside, I knew. But it was so pathetic, so pitiful, that I didn’t want to face it.

  I still had feelings for Parker.

  I stared at the darkened window, Ryker asleep at my back, and felt tears sting my eyes. It was ridiculous. Why should I feel anything for him? I’d put myself out there and he’d turned me down without so much as blinking an eye.

  Would I ever be free of the kernel of hope inside that wanted more with Parker? I hoped so, but with a sinking sensation in my stomach, I thought that maybe I wouldn’t. Not unless I left him for good, and I wasn’t ready to do that.

  But when would I be ready?

  I felt ashamed as I lay there. I had a man, a good man, who said he loved me and wanted to be with me. Yet I couldn’t commit the same feelings to him. Part of my heart was wrapped in a hopeless infatuation with someone who saw me as much a part of his life as he saw his office furniture, and with about the same affection.

  I had to change, had to do something, but I didn’t know what. Or if I did know the what, I lacked the strength to actually do it.

  I fell into a troubled sleep, in Ryker’s arms but thinking about Parker.

  * * *

  Megan was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the next morning. You wouldn’t have known she’d been out partying until well after midnight.

  “So how’d it go with Ryker?” she asked, leaning on my counter. “I thought he w
as too busy to go out last night?”

  “I guess he decided to come there rather than go home after his shift,” I said. “And it went well. Really well.” I couldn’t stop a little smile and Megan chuckled.

  “So I take it you forgave him for making you feel like a booty call girl?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. We talked about it. Everything’s fine, I think. More than fine.” But my words must not have been convincing because Megan frowned.

  “Then why don’t you sound like everything’s fine?”

  I hesitated, then decided to come clean. “It’s just that, I care about him—I think I love him—but last night, when I wanted to tell him … I couldn’t. The words just … wouldn’t come out. It was like they were choking me or something. And I don’t know why.”

  “You don’t?” she asked, looking a bit sad. “Because I bet I could tell you why.” She looked past me. “And he’s headed this way.”

  I glanced up to see Parker striding toward me from the elevators, briefcase in hand.

  Megan was already gone when I looked back and I spied her retreating back stepping around the corner. I sighed.

  “Good morning, Sage,” Parker said, stopping at my counter. I handed him a stack of messages.

  “Good morning,” I replied, wondering how he’d spent his evening last night and if he’d been with Monique. I wasn’t about to ask, though. It was his business.

  “We shouldn’t have any more … unexpected visits from Monique,” he said, flipping through the messages.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, I believe we’re through seeing each other,” he said. “She shouldn’t give you any trouble, but if you hear from her, please let me know.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. He turned to head for his office. “Um … so she broke up with you?”

  Parker stopped and raised an eyebrow at me. His lips twitched. “Really?” He said nothing further, just stepped into his office. The glass door swung shut behind him.

  I felt a thrill of satisfaction at that. Monique was out of the picture. Good.

  What Megan had said sat in the back of my mind all morning as I worked. It was confirmation of what I’d felt last night, but it was depressing to hear someone else say it aloud. And again, I didn’t know what to do about it.