His Cherished Love (Cuffs and Spurs Book 8)
Page 13
“I want you to stay. It’s late enough already, we can get some shut eye.”
Her eyes traveled the length of his form. Even at rest, he was a powerful male in his prime. And he tempted her in so many ways and on so many levels, but she needed some space.
“I can’t.” Because she knew deep down, if she allowed herself, she would hand him all her problems on a silver platter. And it would end up getting him killed. Yes, he was a cop. But Nicolas had been FBI and had died anyway. She’d already put Jack at risk by being with him tonight.
His gaze narrowed. “Why are you running? No bullshit. I will know if you’re lying.”
His gaze did that flicker to cop eyes and she shivered. Of course she had to choose a cop to sleep with. She couldn’t have chosen some IT guy or bartender, but someone who was skilled at ferreting out the truth.
Instead of telling him the whole truth, she gave him a half-truth as she rose from the bed. “I like you, Jack. And I hope we can do this again. But I’m not ready to spend the night with you. My reasons for that have nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and my past,” he opened his mouth to argue but she continued on, “and while I understand the need for honesty, I’m not ready to divulge this part of my past. I get that it goes against your being a Dom, and probably a cop too. But I need you to give me time. This is all so new to me, the whole Dom/sub thing. Just like you asked me to trust you, I’m going to ask for your patience.”
He scooted to the edge of the bed, tugged her into his arms and tipped her chin up so she was looking him directly in the eye. Whatever he saw there must have sufficed. “All right, I will let you go tonight. But I want you to promise me something.”
“What’s that?” She softened because he was choosing not to fight her. It relieved some of the pressure building in her chest.
“While we are sleeping together, you don’t sleep with anyone else.”
“This from the guy who changed subs at the club on a routine basis?” she said sarcastically. But the light in his gaze was serious.
She wasn’t the only one; she hadn’t been alone in feeling the earth move and tilt as they’d loved each other. Her belly quivered at the implications. It was too much for her to try and absorb tonight.
“Maybe I just haven’t found the right sub who made me want more. So what do you say?”
Rayna shivered at the warmth enveloping her chest. “Okay. I will agree. But I’m an equal opportunist here. You don’t get to sleep with any of the subs at the club—or elsewhere, for that matter.”
“Done. Now let’s get you home,” he said, releasing her and climbing out of bed. He padded into the bathroom.
“I can get home all by myself.”
He walked back into the bedroom. “Humor me, and let me walk you over.”
She blew out a breath as she dressed. “Okay, fine. I appreciate it.”
Jack slid on basketball shorts and the tee shirt he’d been wearing before. He walked her down the stairs and grabbed her keys that she had dropped by the door. Then he escorted her to her front door. He unlocked it for her before handing her the keys and saying, “Lock the door behind me.”
“Sir, yes, Sir.” Before she could head inside, he yanked her into his arms and kissed the daylights out of her. He kissed her until her brain was fuzzy and her body hummed in anticipation. He kissed her, and the world around them receded until there was nothing but him.
Then he lifted his mouth, breaking the kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Um-hmm.” Her brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Trying to play it cool, she gripped her keys tight and strode inside her house. With a last look at Jack on her porch, she shut and locked the door.
What the hell had she just done? She couldn’t be in a relationship with Jack. But the thought of never being on the receiving end of his passionate lovemaking again was downright depressing.
She wanted him. Again. Now. Like she was a junkie and he was her dealer and the only one who had the exact drug she needed. She was so screwed.
Chapter 14
The next day Jack finished his six-mile run, padding up the slight incline of his driveway just as Rayna was backing down her drive. Sweat slicked his chest and his legs wobbled. He still wasn’t in fighting shape yet. After his injury, he had been forced to stop his morning run under doctor’s orders, until he was cleared to resume the activity. The first time he’d tried getting back to it, he had puked afterward.
Rayna had work at the diner today and then again at the club that evening. He knew this not because she was wearing a blonde wig in a hairstyle circa 1950, but because he had memorized her work schedule. Although the wig was hot, giving her a Marilyn Monroe look that was sexy as hell. Not to mention, one of Carson’s guys had been able to get into the diner after hours and filched a copy of her schedule. Luckily for them, Marty was an organized sort and had the schedules completed for the next month.
He flashed Rayna a grin when she glanced his way. She gave him a small wave before driving off.
He watched her car leave. That was all he did—watch her. After she left his house last night, he’d gone into the surveillance room in his place and camped out for a few more hours. He reviewed earlier footage while keeping his eyes on the current feed.
At least the bastard hadn’t found out where she lived yet. It was when she wasn’t at home that things were more difficult. But how had he picked up her scent at the club? That’s what was troubling Jack. He knew all the members—even the ones he wasn’t friends with—because he had run background checks on all of them. It was something he did as one of the original members, to help ensure safety. Spencer had him do it. And Jack had run Rayna’s name through the system. It was clean as a whistle. The US Marshalls team that created her fake identity had been thorough in organizing everything she might need, including parents’ names, social security number, credit scores, date of birth, birth certificate, driver’s license, and passport. They had all her data under her new name, with an iron-clad history.
Except, after the revelation about her identity, Jack wondered how much he really knew about all the club members. There were some he didn’t know as well—some who had joined within the last two years whom he considered acquaintances but nothing more. It might not hurt to have Carson run the club members through his database. Spencer wouldn’t mind.
Jack headed inside to shower. Rayna would have Detective Pearson on her tail after she left the block, and it would stay that way until they reached town. Detective Connors would be at the diner. Mitch, Connors, and Pearson were each going to rotate inside the diner when Rayna worked. That way, they always had eyes inside. Mitch had already messaged Jack this morning to let him know that nothing exciting had happened on his street while Jack slept. Not that Jack had done much in the way of sleeping last night. He could still smell her on him, even through the sweat from his run.
And, just like that, he was hard and ready—for her.
Jack stood under the hot spray, letting it beat down on his muscles, considering this new revelation, which in and of itself was odd. He didn’t normally crave a woman once he had experienced her charms. But with Rayna, he yearned to feel her taut form beneath him and her slick heat grip his shaft, listen to her tiny, gasped mewls as she surrendered and let passion consume her again and again.
She had mocked him about the revolving door of subs, but what he had not said was that none of them had been able to hold his interest. They were fine women. He’d enjoyed the time he’d spent scening with each one of them. Yet not a single one had made him desperate to be with them once more. He hated to admit it, but playing with them had been a release, a physical release that had never touched him in a deeper fashion.
Whereas Rayna had decimated all his carefully constructed walls with her impassioned cries and sweet surrender. Jack wasn’t sure that he could ever be satisfied with only one night with her. Last night, the Dom in him had wanted to bind her to his bed and never let her leave.
Finished with his shower, Jack checked in with Detectives Connors and Pearson. They had their locations set up near the club and would be there tonight to help watch the exterior buildings and alleys. Before he left for his own portion of the stakeout, he put on his concealed waist-wrap holster in which he stowed both his gun and badge. He was getting used to wearing it and making it appear like he wasn’t a cop. His black tee shirt would absorb the heat but at least it covered the hidden holster. On his way out the door, he grabbed one of his ballcaps instead of his Stetson. He wanted to blend in and look like a tourist while on stakeout, not a local, hence the jeans and tennis shoes.
At least if the bastard put in an appearance, Jack’s running shoes would make him quick.
Jack drove into town. During high tourist seasons, the downtown area was riddled with traffic and people. They were everywhere. When these roads had been built, they had not been constructed with this much traffic in mind. It was barely ten in the morning and already the streets were packed.
Tourism was the lifeblood of this town. Without it, the place would go belly up. They were lucky in that Yellowstone National Park and Grand Teton National Park were just north of the downtown area. And that one of the few main roads in and out of the parks went directly through Jackson. There were a ton of tourists who would stop for lunch or breakfast on their way up to Yellowstone.
At least there weren’t any wildlife problems today. Then again, it was hot enough out that most likely the elk in the area were grazing in shaded forest areas. Jack found one of the last few parking spots near Rayna’s diner. He walked toward it, scanning the crowd from behind his sunglasses for anyone suspicious or out of place. There were couples and families. Groups of friends on the sidewalk.
Jack glanced inside the diner and smiled. Rayna moved around the tables and booths, looking like a fifties pinup girl in her costume. Even the blonde wig was hot. He watched her for a moment, moving with grace and poise as she wound her way around tables.
She had a smile for every customer. Her exuberance for life shone through and was contagious. The diner customers seemed as drawn to her as he was, enthralled by her verve for life.
He spied Connors at one of the booths and nodded, then left the diner. The last thing Jack wanted to do was be caught staring. While it was his job to keep Rayna alive, it wasn’t his job to turn into an actual stalker. The less his department caught a whiff of his relationship with her, the better.
Because he wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible, he trod across the street to Café Teton Coffee, a local coffee shop that served up some of the best coffee in the area, along with pastries, deli sandwiches, and—because he was usually running behind on his way to the station—breakfast sandwiches to die for. He bought a large cup of coffee and the local paper, then snagged one of the tables at the window with a clear view of the diner across the way.
He removed his sunglasses, so the café people wouldn’t think they were being cased. Over the course of the morning and the early afternoon, Jack imbibed close to half a pot of coffee, two cinnamon scones, a breakfast sandwich with double bacon, and a fruit yogurt parfait thing. He couldn’t help it—he was a growing boy and liked food.
The day passed uneventfully. Every person on the team sent him updates throughout the long day, including Carson. There were traffic cam images of Travino. The bastard was here. But the traffic cams had lost him again, just like Jack had the other night.
Travino wasn’t a ghost, even though he seemed to be acting like one. Carson’s team was checking out leads, which meant Jack had to stick to Rayna’s side. Thirty minutes before her shift ended at the diner, he headed out. Connors had texted that she would make sure Rayna made it to her car unmolested. That way, Jack would be home when she arrived, and he could keep an eye on her there, all while making it seem he had been home the entire time.
For the three hours between her shift at the diner and club, he would make sure he was with her. That would give the team a break, then Jack would also take point tonight at the club. Pearson was set to begin his surveillance of the club area at seven and Connors would relieve him at eleven so she could get some sleep.
Back at his place, Jack checked all the monitors, and they were thankfully clear. Although, wait a second… He went back twenty seconds on one of the feeds. There was a black Lincoln Continental with its license plate blacked out that slowed to a crawl in front of Rayna’s drive.
What the actual fuck?
Tinted windows so he couldn’t glimpse who was inside. The car slowed so briefly that if you blinked, you missed it. He might have missed it the first time. Had this car driven past before? Shit, he didn’t know.
He messaged Carson. He needed other eyes on this feed. He did a few freeze frames on the vehicle and emailed Carson the image. It was a positive development.
Carson messaged back with a don’t let her out of your sight reply.
That, Jack could do. He ordered a pizza and salad from the nearby pizza joint, figuring he could join Rayna next door in between her shifts and feed her. It was the least he could do.
Rayna had just removed the blonde wig that Marty insisted she wear and alternate with her real hair, when a knock sounded at her front door. With a sigh, she trudged toward the door. Was it too much to ask to get five minutes to herself? The diner had been insane today. They were at peak season for tourists, what with the Fourth of July next week. And it seemed like everybody visiting Jackson had to come to eat at the diner. Not that she would complain about the size of her tips, but she had run her butt off, and wanted to put her feet up for a bit before she had to work again tonight. Friday nights were always busy at the club.
Plus, she had been social all day, with a smile plastered on her face. She still had to work at the club tonight. Didn’t that warrant a pass on interacting with more humans for a few hours?
Rayna opened her front door and a pleasurable shiver rushed through her.
“Jack. I wasn’t expecting you.” He was wearing a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt that made him appear downright edible.
“Hungry?” He held up a pizza box and the glorious scents of tomato, garlic, basil and cheese made her mouth water. And not only for the food but also the man.
“I have to be at the club in a bit.”
“I know. I figured you could use someone else bringing you food, is all,” he said with a shrug and a casual smile. What was his endgame?
Dammit. She had to stop with the knee-jerk reactions. She could trust Jack. That much was clear. It was really herself she didn’t trust, because she wanted so much more than a single night with him. She sighed. “Come on in. I would love some.”
She stood back and let him enter. His energy suffused her space. Jack placed the pizza box and brown bag on top of her kitchen table. Rayna headed into her kitchen and grabbed some clean plates and napkins.
She brought them over to the table. “What’s in the bag?”
“Caesar salad. I need some greens in my diet today.”
“I don’t have any beer left, but I do have some soda. Want one? Or I have bottled water.”
“Soda would be great,” Jack said, taking the salad container out of the brown paper bag and dishing some out on both their plates. Look at him, being all domesticated. First with the barbecue, and now with this. His hotness level kept increasing. The more she learned about him, the more she genuinely liked him.
Rayna snagged two sodas from the fridge and utensils for the salad on her way back to the table.
Jack lifted the pizza box lid and the enticing aroma of pepperoni filled the kitchen. Rayna’s stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten in forever. Jack put two slices on her plate and three on his. Rayna sat and handed him his drink before they dug into the salad and pizza. That first bite of cheese, pepperoni and cooked dough was close to a religious experience. She moaned around a bite.
“For someone who can’t cook, you seem to like food quite a bit,” Jack teased.
“Bored with my own company.” He gave a manly shrug that caused his shirt to tighten across his shoulders.
“Tell me, what does a detective on medical leave do all day?”
“You mean besides listen to the police scanner or watch bad daytime television? If I hear one more sob story on one of those talk shows, I will lose it.”
“I prefer the baking shows, or the home flipper shows.”
“But you don’t cook.”
“Precisely. But just because cooking seems to be beyond me doesn’t mean I can’t or don’t enjoy food. I love food. Like this pizza is absolutely divine. I’ve always wanted to go to all the dives and diners across the country, the ones with all those unique menus. For instance, did you know there is a place in Manhattan that is a cookie dough bar? They serve up cookie dough, like chocolate chip or peanut butter, in a waffle cone with all sorts of fixings on it.”
“Isn’t cookie dough bad for you when it’s not cooked? Not that I haven’t had my fair share of the little doughboy’s pre-made rolls.”
“See, that’s what I thought. But theirs is edible cookie dough without the uncooked egg. I don’t know how it’s done but I so want to try it.”
Jack smiled. “You do realize the irony of your predicament.”
“That I can’t cook? Yes. Yes, I do. It’s one of those things in life I’ve learned to accept. And hey, you seem to have quite the appetite.”
He gave her a smoldering glance. “Yes, but you forget, babe, that I can cook. It’s a survival skill.”
“And I bet you can even cook when you’re camping.”
“I’ve been known to grill a few hotdogs or scramble some eggs in the wild. It really isn’t hard.”