Officer on Duty (Lock and Key Book 4)

by Ranae Rose

  He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything, even if he didn’t deserve her. The pain of almost having her snatched away was like a full-body chemical burn, and he knew only her touch would ease it.

  “So you’ll let me stay?” he asked.

  “Okay. Don’t worry, though – I won’t read too much into it.”

  Her words stung like a slap, and he had nobody to blame but himself.

  He’d been too wrapped up in his own guilt after the shooting to give her the time and energy she deserved, and he’d recognized it. But now he sensed her hurt: a reflection of the same agony he’d been dragging around like a ball and chain.

  What had happened to her had refocused his mind, drawn him out of his own shell. He still felt badly over how things had gone down during the shooting, but he felt worse over what’d happened to her, and the fact that her attacker was still out there, possibly harming Olivia as they spoke.

  He wanted to help, in whatever ways he could.

  And he wanted to be with Lucia. He wished he’d kept his damn mouth shut the other day. If he had, he’d be able to take her in his arms now, like he longed to.

  Instead, he held her hand, keenly aware of the space between them.

  * * * * *

  Beverly rummaged in her dusty cupboards until her fingertips brushed the side of a can.

  Chicken noodle soup. Perfect. The girl needed her strength, for the baby.

  Her hand ached as she wrestled with an old can opener, but eventually she dumped the can’s contents into a bowl and added another full of tap water. After ninety seconds in the microwave, she added a spoon and carried it carefully across the kitchen and down the hall.

  By the time she reached Sarah’s bedroom door, her fingertips were burning.

  She set down the bowl and began turning the dial on the combination lock she’d secured the door with. All she’d needed was that and a little hardware – stuff she’d dug out of her junk drawer.

  “I brought you some dinner.” She pushed the door open slowly, her gaze trained on the blonde girl curled up on Sarah’s bed. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but dry. She narrowed them at Bev as she lowered the bowl to the floor.

  “I’ll be back for the bowl in twenty minutes. You make sure to eat it all.”

  She made the slightest of head movements, then grimaced. “I don’t want it.”

  “Eat it anyway.” It was just like arguing with Sarah when she’d gone through a picky eater phase as a child. She had to be stern.

  “No. How do I know it’s not poisoned or something, you crazy bitch?”

  Bev’s hands curled into fists. “I would never do anything to harm a baby – an innocent life. Never.”

  She backed away, keeping her eyes on the girl. If she needed it, there was a baseball bat propped against the wall, just outside the door.

  “Eat the soup. You need your strength.” She closed the door and relocked it.

  As she stepped around the computer she’d removed from the room and set temporarily in the hall, a blow shook the door, followed by a crashing noise.

  Beverly turned just in time to see broth leaking from beneath the crack in the door, spilling out into the hall.

  Then came the sound of the girl’s sobs.

  Beverly bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. The girl was so selfish, thinking only of herself.

  Just like Sarah.

  Only this girl wouldn’t make the same mistakes Sarah had. Beverly wouldn’t let her.

  CHAPTER 20

  Jeremy made it through the day at Lucia’s house without embarrassing himself. Come evening, though, it was a different story.

  He scrounged up the ingredients for a simple dinner from her fridge: chicken breasts in a lemon juice marinade and a salad. She made a big deal out of him cooking for her.

  “Hold on,” he said as he took the chicken out of the oven, “you might not be so impressed once you taste it.”

  She breathed deeply from her seat at the kitchen table. “It smells great.”

  She insisted that it tasted great too, and he reminded her that she’d been hit hard on the head.

  “Ha ha. The fact that you made anything out of what I had in my fridge is amazing. I haven’t been grocery shopping in a week.”

  “You want me to run out and pick up some things for you?”

  “No way – you’ve done enough for me already. If I don’t feel up to going myself tomorrow, I’ll call a family member.”

  “It wouldn’t be a big deal for me to go for you tonight.”

  “Yes it would.” She speared a slice of chicken breast with her fork. “Just the other day, you said you wanted to take a break. Now I feel like I’m holding you hostage here. You offering to buy my groceries makes me wonder whether you’re suffering from Stockholm syndrome.”

  A sinking feeling filled his chest. “Truth be told, I’ve enjoyed spending the day with you.”

  She regarded him from across the table, and for the first time, he detected suspicion in her gaze.

  “Look, you were right – the shooting last week, it shook me up. More than I wanted to admit, especially to you.”

  “Why me especially?”

  “Same reason you’re dreading your family finding out about last night, I guess. Something’s tearing you up, and you don’t want it to tear you down in the eyes of the people you care about. It’s bad enough feeling like a failure without having to spell it out for someone else.”

  She was silent for a moment. “I guess I see.”

  “I had my head up my ass, but what happened to you pulled it out at least halfway, I think.”

  She snorted.

  “Gave me something else to focus on,” he added. “I’m so damn glad you’re okay.”

  She frowned, and he knew she was thinking of Olivia, who might not be so lucky.

  “I know these are rough times and you’re hurt, but when you’re feeling better and this all blows over, I’d like to take you out again. If you’ll let me.”

  She met his gaze and held it. “Don’t feel like you have to make any promises. We can wait and see how you feel later – like you wanted.”

  He shook his head. “I know what I said, and damned if I’m not regretting it now. Damned if I didn’t regret it the moment I said it, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

  “And now it doesn’t?”

  “Now I’m determined to get my head on straight and treat you right, if it kills me. I’ve been thinking … maybe you’re right, and I should ask for a few more days off work.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I don’t want to be working my shift with my head stuck in what happened last week. I need a clear mind – I need to be able to focus on what’s in front of me, not behind me.”

  “I know that must’ve been a hard conclusion to come to,” she said, her voice softer than before.

  He shrugged. “Figure I can afford to take a little bit of a breather. Been working for the department for over a decade, and I haven’t taken much time off.”

  She nodded, and they finished the meal in silence.

  “Heading home?” she asked after he cleared the dishes off the table.

  “It hasn’t been twenty-four hours.”

  “If you stayed with me that long, you’d have to spend the night.”

  He nodded. “I will, if you want. If you’d rather call family, I can stay until they get here.”

  He could spend the night on her couch, have Paige sleep at his mother’s. That way, if Lucia needed to be taken back to the hospital, he’d be ready to drive her.

  “Do you want to spend the night?”

  The tone of her voice had changed. There was a velvet edge to her question that made every muscle in his body tense.

  “That’s up to you.” Considering recent events, he didn’t expect her to turn down her blankets and invite him to crawl into bed with her.

  “I’m asking what you want.”

  He met her gaze, and
his body heated. “Of course I do.”

  “Then stay.”

  She moved like she hadn’t been hurt, like the night had never happened, and embraced him. Her hands slid down his shoulders, arms and sides. His skin went hot everywhere she touched.

  As for his pants – those suddenly felt two sizes too small, at least.

  He pulled back from the embrace, but there was no escaping her hands.

  “Hold on now,” he said. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

  “So what? It’s not like I’m running a marathon. I’m glad you’re here, and I could really use a distraction.”

  Her expression darkened.

  He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and raised it, beginning the process of undressing her, slow and mindful of her head wound.

  Slowly, the lines in her brow smoothed, and she breathed a long sigh.

  “Come on. Let’s do this in your bedroom.”

  There, she’d be able to relax.

  “Okay.”

  There was no way he’d be laying her down on her back or throwing her legs over his shoulders, like he’d done before. Not with those stitches. Instead, he had her sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Stay right where you are,” he said, sinking down onto the floor after he finished undressing her.

  He’d kept his clothing on – he didn’t want her trying to do anything for him.

  Kneeling in front of her, he placed a hand on her knee. “Spread those thighs for me.”

  She obeyed, granting him a wide-open view of her pussy.

  His heart launched into his throat, and his mouth watered. It seemed incomprehensible that he’d told her he’d wanted to put this on hold, that he’d thought he could go without this.

  He eased in, running his mouth up the inside of her thigh in an effort to avoid shocking her into any sudden movements.

  It didn’t work. When he got high enough for his breath to hit the sensitive skin between her thighs, she trembled. And when he pressed his mouth there, she arched and sucked in a hissing breath.

  He tasted her, running his tongue against her pussy lips and relishing their hot silk feel. After a minute of teasing her there, he refocused on her clit.

  She gasped and grabbed the hand he’d rested on her thigh.

  When she squeezed, he sucked on her clit, unable to resist.

  She breathed like she was drowning, with quick, frantic breaths that didn’t seem to be enough. A blind man could’ve seen that she was close.

  When her hips started rolling, he groaned. She cried out, a breath for every other buck of her hips.

  It didn’t last long, and he was sorry when it was over.

  Sorry but eager, his cock a steel rod uncomfortably confined by his pants.

  He could make her come again. He would, before he came deep, deep inside her.

  He stood while she leaned back on the bed, looking up at him. Her gaze never wavered as he stripped off his clothing.

  When he pulled down his underwear and took his dick out, she leaned forward, her gaze focused on it.

  Surprise shot through him, and he didn’t know whether to be disgusted with himself or even more turned-on. Did she really think he’d let her suck his cock right now, in her condition?

  “No.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip gentle but firm. He longed to grab a fistful of that thick hair, but didn’t dare.

  Her lower lip stuck out in what could only be described as a pout, and he marveled.

  Maybe that blow to the head had skewed her judgement. He wasn’t about to take advantage of it and risk hurting her.

  “I want to.”

  “Another time. Let me take care of you.”

  She spent so much time worrying about others, she probably wasn’t used to anyone doing that.

  He was far from the ray of sunshine she was, but he’d try.

  “I figure we’ve got a couple options,” he said. “You could ride me, or I could bend you over something. Either way, I’ll be careful.”

  “Let me ride you.”

  “You liked that last time?”

  “Wasn’t it obvious?”

  He lowered himself onto the bed beside her, where he did his best to continue driving her to distraction. Her breasts had been tempting him ever since he’d undressed her, and he finally let himself focus on them, palming their curves and teasing her nipples with his tongue and teeth before drawing them into his mouth.

  By the time he quit, she’d raked his scalp so enthusiastically with her nails that it was a wonder he didn’t need some stitches of his own.

  He took that as a neon sign that she was good and ready for more.

  When he stroked her pussy lips, they were just as wet as they had been the last time – slick, hot and unbearably inviting.

  “Let me get a condom.” He extricated himself from her embrace, rubbing his scalp as he spared a last, lingering look at her breasts.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, you know that?”

  “You’re not so bad yourself. And by not so bad, I mean that if I was any older, I’d probably be prone to heart attacks while watching you take off your uniform.”

  Her words were teasing, but her smile was weak – it was obvious that what’d happened the night before was weighing on her.

  Still, she watched him roll a condom down over his dick, watched him climb back onto the bed – it was the most alive he’d seen her look since he’d visited her in the hospital the night before.

  Hopefully, they weren’t overdoing it.

  He lay down on his back, simultaneously placing a hand on her thigh and squeezing. “Ready when you are, beautiful.”

  She climbed onto him just like she had the time before, reaching for his cock after she settled herself just below his hips.

  Lust surged through him like electricity when she guided his head to her pussy and paused for a moment, licking the edge of her lower lip before sinking down.

  She went slowly – so slowly – and he let her. The tight heat of her body swallowing him up was a supreme temptation to take over, to pound into her until she collapsed on his chest and held on for dear life.

  But he couldn’t give in. At least, not this time. So he let her set the pace, let her bounce softly up and down on his throbbing cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

  He thrust slow and easy, a world of restraint going into every twitch of his hips. It was a sweet, torturous massage that drove want deep into his bones, making them ache.

  He could’ve come just looking at her up there, riding him with her nipples still hard from being in his mouth.

  When the time came, he’d just have to strike a balance. For now, he pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed gently.

  She shuddered and sucked in an audible breath, looking down at where he touched her.

  “This make it easier for you to come?”

  “Yes.”

  He kept rubbing, and every now and then she’d rock her hips, thrusting down on him until their bodies were locked so tightly together they were practically one.

  When she came, her breath hitched and her body tightened. Her pussy pulsed around his shaft, and that was his favorite part: the way she pushed him to the edge too, trying to milk him.

  He let it happen, let himself fall into raw pleasure. He couldn’t help thrusting harder than before, but he wasn’t rough.

  Even though he was holding back, the pleasure knocked the air right out of his lungs. For a few moments, he couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe.

  “Fuck, Lucia. Your pussy is amazing.”

  It clenched around him one last time, and she sighed.

  “I could say the same thing about your cock. About all of you.”

  Color burnt high on her cheeks, and there was still a gleam in her eye, but her shoulders sloped in a way that said she was tired.

  He placed his hands on her hips and helped her off his dick, off of him.

  She curled up on one side, and he
moved a pillow closer to her head before pulling the condom off and throwing it away.

  When he turned back around, he half expected her to be asleep.

  She was moving – wriggling higher on the bed and peeling back the blankets.

  “You should get some rest,” he said. “Anything I can do for you before you go to bed?”

  “No.” She went to wash her face and brush her teeth.

  Meanwhile, he pulled his underwear back on, then went to splash a little water on his own face. When he looked in the mirror, there were dark circles under his eyes – testaments to the time he’d spent lying awake thinking about her, lately.

  Well, now he’d traded that in for lying awake to protect her. The thought flooded him with a prickly sort of heat that made his spine tingle with pleasure and wariness.

  He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. And he’d be there for her if her concussion took a turn for the worse and she needed help.

  When he returned to her room, she was already in bed and had turned down the covers on the opposite side, as if to invite him in.

  He didn’t second guess the invitation, nor did he say a word as he closed and locked the bedroom door, shut off the light and climbed into bed beside her.

  She sidled up against him right away, and he wrapped an arm around her, his heart beating extra hard in the darkness.

  It’d been more than a decade since he’d slept with a woman in his arms. God knew when he’d get the chance to do it again. He hated that she’d been attacked, but this was one hell of a silver lining.

  CHAPTER 21

  Beverly woke up sometime around eight, beneath the aging quilt she’d inherited from her mother – one of the few personal belongings they’d been permitted to keep at the Eternal Family Foundation retreat where she’d grown up. When it had disbanded shortly after she’d turned sixteen, she’d taken the quilt with her in honor of her mother’s memory.

  Sarah had slept wrapped in it, as a baby. The thought made her aching head pound even harder.

  She was no closer to her daughter than she was to her long-dead mother. Sarah might as well have died, too.