by C. A. Harms
“You met him that night we went out and then again later at the club. Did you girls invite him to join us?” Rick asked, looking between us.
When we shook our heads, he wrinkled his brow in confusion. “What are the chances of him showing up at the same club as us?” Rick leaned in closer, not taking his eyes off us. “There are hundreds of clubs and bars in the city, yet he showed up at the one bar we reserved a VIP room at. Are you sure neither of you said the name of the club?”
“No,” I said confidently, “I’m sure of it.”
A moment of silence past before Kim spoke. “Neither of us said anything about where we were going. Just that we were going out and our ride was waiting.”
“Yet he shows up, buys you ladies a drink, and is humbly invited to join us for the evening,” Rick said.
“So you're saying it’s my fault too?” I slid forward on the couch, not giving Rick or Kim a chance to speak. “So I should automatically assume every guy I meet is a psycho serial killer? I should have a background check run, or hell a DNA test performed. I’m some naive girl who has no idea when some crazed lunatic is targeting me, right?”
I stood, throwing my hands up in the air all dramatic like. I knew I was being a goddamn drama queen and that Rick didn’t deserve this treatment, but I was still pissed at Beckett’s hurtful words and it was just too late to stop this fit.
“I’ll shrivel up and die before ever meeting a guy I may get busy with, because apparently when I meet men, they’re assholes, psychos, or overgrown boys with cavemen tendencies. I guess I’ll just end up dying alone with twenty cats.” I spun around on my heel and stormed back off toward my room.
“I should just start dating women,” I huffed, and Kim snickered.
“No, Elle, because woman are worse than men. We’re catty, bitchy, and know just what to do to make our lover’s life hell when we feel the need,” Kim hollered after me. “Isn’t that right, babe?”
I didn't wait for Rick’s response. Instead, I closed my door and collapsed on my bed as exhaustion from the last couple of days overtook me.
I woke to the doorbell ringing over and over.
I rolled to my side and tried to focus on the clock at the side of the bed but only saw blurred numbers. After I blinked excessively it came into view and my eyes widened in surprise.
A quarter ’til ten.
I was shocked Kim hadn’t woken me up. She never, and I do mean never, allows me to sleep in, even on my days off.
The doorbell rang once again, startling me from my thoughts. I scrambled out of bed and down the hallway, then came to a sliding stop before the front door. It was thick, solid oak with a small peephole in the center. That was one of the best things about Rick and Kim’s house: it truly felt like a fortress. One that kept out the crazy people and made all who lived within safe.
I slowly rose onto my tiptoes and peeked through the hole. What I saw made my heart race.
Beckett Montgomery stood outside, looking much different than he did the day I left him sitting in the coffee shop after he acted like an asshole. He’d traded in the dress shirt and slacks for a pair of jeans, a tight T-shirt, and a worn Yankees cap that was clearly a favorite. I’d never really felt that warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach at the sight of a good-looking man in a baseball cap, but Beckett looked mighty fine wearing one.
I swallowed hard as I leaned back and tried to gain some control of my desires. I was, in fact, very attracted to the detective. Though I should be furious with him, all I kept thinking was how utterly divine his hands would feel on me.
A loud knock followed by another ding of the doorbell made my heart lurch.
“I know you’re in there. Open up, Elle.”
After taking a deep breath, I twisted the lock, and he opened the door before I could. He did it slowly, but it still startled me.
And the moment I got a good look at him, I became concerned.
“Detective.” I stepped forward and he held up his hand.
“Beckett, Beck. Dammit, I don’t care if you call me jerk.” His voice sounded gruff, almost as if he’d just woken up. That deep, husky sound ran right through me and settled deep in my chest, making it hard to remember that I was still irritated with this man—irritated and insanely attracted. I think that’s why I was hurt most of all. Because for some strange reason, I actually cared what this man thought. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew I should keep my distance, but god damn it, no matter how hard I tried to hate this guy, I kept coming back to that night in my apartment when he knelt before me and made me a promise.
“I’m not leaving. I promise you, you’re safe with me.”
I’ve held on to his words every day since. Maybe that was naive, but it helped.
“Just not Detective,” he said, bringing my attention back to him. “Not now, not today.”
“What do you mean?” I asked and was startled when he stepped forward and brought his body even closer to mine. I stepped back and sagged against the wall behind me when I bumped my head against it.
“I was a complete asshole,” he confessed, moving another step closer. “I shouldn't have come at you the way I did. I shouldn't have made it seem as if this was your fault. Because it isn’t.” He leaned in, and after he took in a deep breath as if he just needed to surround himself with me, he whispered words that made my knees weak.
“I’ve got this constant battle going on in my head, Shanelle. It’s been going on ever since that night I showed up at your place.” He leaned in and skimmed his nose over my jaw. “You’re so deep in my head. I’ve never had an issue separating my job and my personal needs—until now. Now all I can think about is how great I know we’d be together.”
“Detec—”
His lips covered mine in a kiss that I should have denied, yet I couldn’t seem to stop. The way his body pressed against mine and the way he clung to the back of my neck was so gratifying. A rush of pure adrenaline and desire ripped through me with uncontrollable force.
“I just want a few hours of you and me,” he whispered against my lips. I knew I should say no, but I didn’t want to. I wanted this too.
I wanted to forget about the fact my life had been turned upside down. I wanted to ignore the idea that some psycho was running around out there and could be planning on a return visit. For now I just wanted to enjoy the pleasure I felt at the hands of this gorgeous man. Even if this would only be a one-time thing, I was okay with that. At least I told myself I was.
BECKETT
If I was a better man, I would walk away now. I would get up, get dressed, and apologize for being such a prick.
But I wasn’t. I was selfish and I fucking wanted her. I had wanted her from the moment I’d seen her, and spending time with her only made my need grow. It was fucking eating me alive every minute of every damn day.
So instead of being the man I should have been, I’d somehow convinced myself that one time with Elle would be enough. That feeling her body against mine just once would get my head back on straight.
As I looked down at her sprawled out on her bed beneath me, I knew I had the chance to stop this. It was Detective 101: never get involved with the victim. But Beckett 101 said go after what you want full throttle and don't let anything get in your way. Own that shit, because you are Beckett fucking Montgomery.
She lay there naked, looking up at me with those gorgeous fuck-me eyes, every bit as beautiful as the first time she knocked me on my ass. No, I take that back. She was even more mesmerizing. Her beauty was fucking with my head. I was gone. There was no hope for me.
Sheathed and ready to take what I felt was rightfully mine, I positioned myself between her thighs.
“Yes, please,” she whimpered and moved her hips forward as if in search of me. “Please, Beckett.” Her begging was fuel to my fire.
“You want this?” I asked as I fisted myself and moved the head of my cock against her warmth. “You need me?”
I already knew the answer, but the arrogant asshol
e within me needed to hear it.
“Yes,” she cooed. “I need you.”
And because I could no longer hold back, I gave her what she needed. What we both needed.
Her body clenched around me and moved with mine, taking me all in and begging for more without saying a word. She pumped her hips with each of my thrusts, moaning and arching her back as she tightened around me, milking me to perfection.
“Fuck, Elle,” I moaned as she wrapped her legs around me and used them to guide me, pulling me into her harder and harder with each tug.
She pouted in protest when I reached behind me and unhooked her legs. I ignored her displeased look as I pulled myself away and griped her waist. I flipped her over in one quick movement and yanked her back so her ass was arched up and waiting.
“Damn, baby, you look good like this,” I said as she parted her legs, giving me an even better view. “Fuck me,” I growled as I trailed my finger along her wetness before inserting it. In two pumps, she was pushing back against my hand, trying to get more. Her movements made it impossible for me not to desire more, so I removed my finger and replaced it with my cock, and she starting moving against me just as she had with my hand. I pressed my hand against the center of her back and she leaned forward farther, arching her ass higher and giving me a better view. I watched her sweet body take me over and over as she moaned and whispered my name.
I had never felt as powerful as I did right now. Elle was lost in the pleasure she was pulling from my body. It was me. I was the one who did this to her. She was oblivious to every other thing around her except for feeling this, feeling us.
Together we were gaining that peace we had both been in search of. That moment when we forgot every hellish part of our lives and just floated away.
This was our moment.
And being lost had never felt so good.
Afterward, I sat on the side of her bed watching her sleep.
She lay on her stomach, her hair sprawled all around her in a ratted mess, the sheets gathered around her waist, leaving her back bare.
She was gorgeous.
I’d been sitting here for at least ten minutes, feeling like an even bigger ass, because I’d realized two things.
One, that a taste wasn’t enough and never would be. And two, what we’d just done would eat away at me until I wished I’d had the strength to withstand her, because my craving for her would be even worse now.
I shouldn't have allowed myself to believe this would be okay.
It’s against protocol for a detective to have relations with the victim in an ongoing investigation they were part of. And while the decision to take action was up to the detective’s commander, I knew right now that Commander Harris would not approve. In fact, last year he suspended an officer without pay for six weeks for doing pretty much the same shit I just did, and then that officer was transferred to a shit desk job until he left the force completely.
I should get up and walk away now while I still had my badge and hope that Elle understood it was for the best.
So why couldn't I force myself to fucking move?
She let out a little sigh, and my attention went right to her as I waited for a chance to hear that sweet sound again. Only it didn't come. She curled up and rolled to her side, her back now facing me as she pulled the sheets up around her.
That snapped me out of my thoughts. Leaving would be a little easier now that I wouldn’t have to see her face.
I carefully rose from the bed and picked up my shoes, which were only a few feet away. I tried not to look back, but I failed. I was only one step away from never being able to see her beauty again, and I couldn’t resist looking back over my shoulder. Stupid decision, because I instantly felt as if I’d been kicked in the stomach.
For only the second time in my life, I found myself cursing my job and wishing I was Knoxville, who had the freedom to do as he pleased. Even though he worked closely with the police department at times, he was his own boss. They didn't have the power to destroy his career if he didn't abide by their rules.
He did what he wanted, when he wanted and he answered to no one. Lucky bastard.
SHANELLE
I stretched my back and raised my arms above my head, elongating my spine. “Mm,” I moaned, because the pull on my muscles was amazing.
I felt like I’d been overused.
Smiling to myself at the thought, I let my mind wander back to the events that had left me aching—events I knew would stay with me for a long time because Beckett Montgomery was a heart-stopper.
Goose bumps prickled my skin as I remembered the way he kissed along my thigh, carefully sucking and teasing as he moved up my body. I swear I could still feel the roughness of his stubble against my skin. The raw pleasure of feeling so desirable to a man like Beckett still flooded through me. He had much more experience with sex than I did, and his skills were evident in each kiss and touch.
I rolled to my side and reached out, expecting to feel Beckett’s body and instead found only empty space. The sheets weren’t just cool, they were stone-cold, indicated he’d been gone for some time.
That feeling of being well-used no longer felt like a good thing. Instead of just enjoying the aftereffects of a good round of sex, I now felt like I’d been used instead of well-used. Like I was disposable; just a warm body to use for release and then toss aside.
My initial opinion of Beckett came back to me in a rush. “I should have run away from him because he’d run away from me the moment he got the chance.”
And he had. He’d left me alone in my bed without a trace that he’d been there besides the reddened rawness that still lingered on my skin from his two-day-old stubble.
It wasn’t like I thought he’d profess his undying love or that this would be the start of some great romance, and I hadn’t convinced myself that he’d make any promises to me. But I did tell myself that Beckett was a good man. One who wouldn’t sneak away from a woman and leave her feeling like yesterday’s garbage.
Just like that, I regretted ever allowing myself to enjoy that fleeting moment of pleasure with him.
This was what I got for stepping outside the safe little bubble I lived in where everything made sense. Even if life there was boring and predictable, at least in the end I didn't feel like some man’s whore.
God, I really was naive. And gullible.
I rolled my eyes, doing all I could to fight back tears as I crawled out of bed and grabbed for the clothes I’d worn earlier, then decided against it. Just looking at them brought back memories of Beckett as he slowly removed them from me and tossed them to the floor.
Beckett was such an asshole. How could I have so easily forgotten his harsh words to me in the coffee shop and jumped right into bed with him without a second thought?
The longer I spent reliving the last couple days, the more irritated I became. Not only at the prick who thought I was just another vagina in his long line of vaginas, but also at the prick who’d destroyed my sense of security and freedom
Bitterness grew in me as I sifted through the closet that wasn't mine but that I’d have to use for the foreseeable future. Just another thing Andrew the psycho Picton had taken from me.
Men were all insane. They thought they ruled the world and could just take whatever they wanted without consequences.
I yanked a shirt over my head and shoved my arms through the sleeves in one exaggerated movement at a time. My ears burned as my blood pressure rose. I had half a mind to call Beckett and tell him to take a flying leap off the Empire State Building.
My hands shook harder as I finished dressing, and my mind continued to race uncontrollably.
I may not have had a lot of experience with men, but I sure as shit had never been dealt the kind of bullcrap Beckett had handed me.
“Dickhead,” I growled as I stomped out of my room and rounded the corner into the kitchen.
“Excuse me?” I looked up to find Rick standing only a few feet away, giving me a curious
look. “What did I do?”
“You didn't do anything,” I said, embarrassed that he’d overheard me. “At this point you’re the only man besides my father who has a good solid conscience.”
Rick remained perfectly still, his hands resting on the counter before him as he watched me with caution. He’d obviously picked up on my mood, and like I’d seen him do so many times before with Kim, he chose to listen instead of speaking.
I walked past him, pulled a water from the fridge, and strode into the living room, where I flopped down on the couch.
How the hell was I supposed to remain tucked away inside this house when all I could smell and see was Beckett? He’d entered through that front door and pinned me against the wall beside it, where he’d kissed me for the first time, taking my breath away. And how could I forget the love seat where he buried his face between…?
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I would not sit here and torture myself.
So Beckett Montgomery was by far the best I’d ever had. But since I was totally replaceable to him, I could forget about him in an instant.
I huffed and laughed to myself, knowing full well I was a liar.
“Idiot,” I said to myself just as the house phone began to ring.
I faintly heard Rick pick up and start talking in the kitchen.
A few moments later my cell phone rang from the bedroom I was currently calling my own. With each ring it sounded like it was getting closer, until it was directly behind me.
I turned to find Rick standing there, holding it out with an unreadable expression on his face. “The detective,” he offered in explanation. “I gave him your number.”
“You what?” I shouted as I spun around and grabbed my cell. Looking down at the screen, I found a number I didn't recognize and my pulse sped up.
