by Julia Sykes
I finally eased back when she shuddered and sighed. I unlocked my cuffs and lay down beside her, pulling her body atop mine so I could cuddle her close. I don’t know how long we stayed there, content in holding one another.
My phone rang, distracting me from her. I kissed her forehead before pushing myself up to a sitting position so I could get my phone out of my pocket.
“Scott,” I answered.
“I thought you’d want an update on the Hernandez situation,” Smith said. “Javier managed to catch up to him. Apparently your girl did a number on our perp’s foot, and he wasn’t able to run very far.”
I didn’t bother to correct him. Chloe wasn’t my girl, but I wouldn’t give Smith any more fodder for his gossip.
“That’s good,” I said instead. “How is Ana?”
“She’s fine. Hernandez is being shipped back to Chicago. There’s an outstanding warrant for his arrest, so they’ll charge him there. He won’t be able to recruit any more Kings in New York.”
“I want to add assault charges,” I said. “He attacked Chloe.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged. Bring her in and we’ll get a statement from her.”
“Not today,” I refused. I’d pushed Chloe to a vulnerable state, and she didn’t need to relive what had happened right now. She needed to be cuddled close, to feel safe and protected. “We can do it tomorrow morning.”
“Why? Is she a little tied up right now?”
I rolled my eyes. The man was too nosy for his own good.
“See you tomorrow, Smith.” I ended the call before he could ask more questions.
Chloe propped herself up on her elbows. “Aren’t you going to work? It can’t be that late in the day. There’s plenty of time for us to go back out.”
“You’re not going anywhere today. You’re staying here with me. That’s final,” I said heavily when she opened her mouth to argue. “You can continue your research tomorrow. You’re taking the day off.”
She frowned. “But I never take a day off.”
“Never?”
She shrugged. “I love what I do. It doesn’t feel like work. I don’t know what I’d do with my day if I wasn’t writing or researching.”
“I can think of a few things we could do to occupy our time,” I said, heat returning to my voice as I took in her naked body.
She flushed. “Oh.”
“But for now, I’m making you lunch. Come on. Let’s see if I actually have something edible in my fridge.”
She stood and followed me into my living room. As I walked into the open-plan kitchen, she moved toward the front door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get my clothes.”
“I didn’t say you could get dressed.”
She gestured at me. “But you’re still dressed.”
“I like you naked,” I asserted. “You’ll stay that way while you’re in my apartment. The appropriate answer here is Yes, Sir,” I said sternly, reading a protest in her pinched features.
“Fine,” she huffed. “My ass is too sore to argue. Your hands are massive.”
I grinned at her. “Smart girl. Now, do you want frozen pizza or frozen pizza? Sorry, but that’s all I have.”
She glanced around my apartment. “You are such a bachelor,” she remarked, her eyes falling on my Lord of the Rings replica sword and my huge iMac where I did most of my gaming. “This is a total guy apartment.”
I turned my face away, trying to hide my flush. There was more than one reason I didn’t bring women back to my place. For one, I wasn’t interested in the intimacy that would come along with it; I fucked at the club. And secondly, this was my nerdy haven. I could indulge in my fantasy worlds here without fear of being mocked.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” she said quickly, reading my sudden discomfiture. “I already told you: women love a sexy nerd. Besides, I’m kind of nerdy, too, so I don’t have room to judge.”
I looked back at her, incredulous. The polished, confident woman who stood naked in my apartment didn’t strike me as the type to hide behind a computer and live in a fantasy world.
“You don’t have to say that,” I mumbled.
She was suddenly beside me, her small hand on my forearm. I met her warm chocolate eyes.
“I’m not. Seriously, I’m a huge Supernatural fangirl. And I was the first one in line at the midnight showings of Harry Potter. Not to mention my love of all things Marvel.”
I gaped at her for a moment, then closed my mouth with an audible snap. “I’ve never seen Supernatural,” I said, trying to hide my befuddlement. “I’ve heard it’s good. My friend Sam loves it.”
“Oh my god, it’s awesome,” she gushed, grinning. “Get that pizza in the oven. We’re totally going to binge watch. I want to find out if you like Sam or Dean better—Sam on the show, not your friend, obviously. I’m a total Dean-girl. He’s so hot.”
A beat of silence passed as I tried to absorb this new side of Chloe. “Okay,” I finally managed. “Is it on Netflix?”
“Yep.” Then she fixed me with a stern look. “But this isn’t ‘Netflix and chill.’ No hooking up while watching Supernatural. I want your opinion on the show. I think you’re a total Sam-girl, but I want to know for sure.”
My brow furrowed. “I’m not a girl.”
She laughed, her gaze roving over my body. “Definitely not. Lighten up. I’m not going to make fun of you. I think it’s cool that you have a sword in your apartment.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she beamed. “Where’s your remote? I’ll start up Netflix while you get the pizza ready.”
“Coffee table,” I gestured, still somewhat bewildered.
“Awesome. Hurry up, I want to get started.” She practically vibrated with eagerness. She truly wasn’t judging me; she was caught up in genuine excitement. “We should play X-box later,” she said absently as she settled down on the couch. “Do you have Mario Kart?”
“Yeah,” I answered, still hardly able to believe I was actually having this conversation.
“Excellent.” She glanced back at me. “Where are we on that pizza? I’m starving.”
“It’ll be a few minutes.” I preheated the oven and crossed the short distance between us, sitting down beside her.
She immediately snuggled up to me, pressing her soft body against mine as she rested her head on my shoulder.
“Get ready to have your mind blown,” she warned as she pressed play.
I was fairly certain that had already happened. It was surreal. I was about to spend the afternoon geeking out with one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met. A beautiful woman who was naked in my apartment, submissively curled up at my side.
She looked up at me, and I realized I was staring at her.
“Watch the show,” she urged, excited.
I redirected my gaze to the TV, and proceeded to have one of the most enjoyable afternoons of my life.
13
Chloe
Three days passed after my altercation with Hernandez, and over that time, I was quickly becoming addicted to Dex. Or, at the very least, to the mind-blowing orgasms he gave me. I might not want to have sex with him, but the man had a very clever tongue.
Liar, a little part of my mind whispered. Having penetrative sex with Dex had crossed my mind more than once. Every time he held me in his arms and turned that deep, dominant voice on me, I was tempted to beg him to fuck me.
But I wasn’t ready. I’d sworn off sex for the past three years, and although Dex and I used our hands and mouths to bring each other pleasure, I couldn’t have him inside me. I was scared I’d have a flashback of that horrible night with Neil, and I didn’t want to ruin things with Dex by bringing all that ugliness back up. What we shared was new, fun. Dex was sweet and sexy and adorably self-effacing. He wasn’t arrogant like a lot of the Doms I’d met. He might be utterly confident in himself as an FBI agent and as a Dominant, but he wasn’t unbearably c
ocky by nature.
It was his gentleness that really got to me. His subtle brand of dominance had allowed him to slip past my defenses and take control before I even realized that I was submitting.
And I had to admit that submission was wonderful, freeing—every bit as ecstatically beautiful as the descriptions in my books. Dex was a perfect romantic hero in the flesh, and I couldn’t help falling for him.
The thought should frighten me, but it didn’t. I felt safe with Dex, protected and cherished. I might not be ready to have sex with him, but for the first time in years, I could see myself being in a relationship with someone.
Slow down, crazypants. It was far too soon to think like that. We were just getting to know each other. Sure, we enjoyed each other’s company and had insanely hot chemistry, but that didn’t mean we were anywhere close to being in a relationship.
But when I spent my days shadowing him for my research and my nights cuddled in his arms, it was hard not to contemplate getting more serious with him.
“Alanna?” The bookstore owner’s voice called me out of my reverie when she used my pen name. “We’re about to open the doors. Are you ready?”
I smiled at her. I’d met Sarah Thompson at a romance writing convention last year. She’d been gracious enough to give me an open invitation to hold a signing at her indie bookstore if I was ever in New York, and I’d arranged to take her up on her offer while I was in town for my Latin Kings research.
“I’m good to go,” I confirmed, picking up my gold Sharpie and grabbing one of my books from the pile stacked on the table in front of me. “Thanks so much for having me.”
She beamed. “I’m so glad you’re here. We have a line outside.”
“Really?” I was truly surprised. My books sold well, but I hadn’t expected a huge turnout just to see me.
“You have some fangirls here.”
“Wow.” I hadn’t been expecting that.
“I’m going to let them in,” she told me, still smiling. “People can check out with me at the register, so you just focus on signing and networking.”
“Great. Thank you,” I said with genuine gratitude.
She gave me a sly smile. “There are a couple of guys here, too. There’s one at the front of the line. I think he got here a few hours ago. I guess you’re reaching a male audience, too.”
“Huh.” I’d never imagined men reading my books. “I’m looking forward to meeting him. Maybe he can give me some insight on how to expand my brand.”
“Good idea,” she approved. “I’ll be right back.”
She left me briefly to go unlock the shop door. She’d officially closed up at five, but she was re-opening for my evening signing. The store was decked out for a small celebration, with a snack table and kinky decorations. Tiny handcuff-shaped glitter festooned my signing table. I smiled at the reminder of my hot scenes with Dex. He was partial to handcuffs after I’d picked the lock on his official pair. It was becoming something of a running joke between us.
“Hi, princess.” As though summoned by my musings, Dex appeared before me.
I grinned. “So, you’re the guy who came to my signing,” I said, trying to sound petulant and failing. “I thought I had an actual male reader here.”
“Oh, I’m a reader. I’m a big fan. I want a signed copy.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, eyeing the crowd growing behind him. It seemed I’d be here for a while, so I’d better start signing.
“I know I don’t have to. I read Declan’s Desires, and I really liked it. I thought the writing was great.”
My cheeks heated at the praise. “Oh. Thanks.”
His smile turned wicked. “The scenes were really hot. You must have done your research.”
My face practically burned. I knew the women behind him could hear. Could they detect the innuendo in his tone?
“Get out of here,” I scolded. “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”
“But you’re so cute when you’re blushing. Besides, I really do want a signed copy. Personalized, please.”
I waved him off. “I’ll give you one later.”
His pale eyes heated to blue flames. “Okay. A private signing, then. And bring that Sharpie. I think my name in gold will look pretty on your skin.”
“Dex!” I hissed.
He laughed and stepped to the side. “I’ll be around. We can go back to my apartment when you’re done.”
I tore my eyes from him and tried to focus on my first reader, only to find that she was staring after him, too. “Is that your boyfriend?” she asked with awe.
“No!” I exclaimed, sounding more alarmed than I’d like. I didn’t want him to hear the word boyfriend. It was too close to the thoughts I’d been having about him. He’d think I was crazy for thinking like that after knowing him for such a short time.
I cleared my throat. “He’s just a friend.” My eyes lingered on his retreating back as he moved into the sci-fi and fantasy section of the bookstore.
I wasn’t the only one watching him. A cluster of girls standing in line were openly staring and giggling. Dex was oblivious.
I sighed, a touch dreamily. He really didn’t realize how insanely hot he was. It only made him that much more attractive.
“I just loved your Declan series,” my reader gushed, calling my attention back to her.
I smiled, focusing on my job. “Thank you. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”
“I want all of them,” she gestured at my books.
“Really?” I was still surprised every time someone was so enthusiastic about my work.
“Yeah,” she grinned. “And copies for my friend, too. She’s going to love them. Can you make her set out to Stacey?”
“Of course. And what’s your name?”
She supplied the information I needed, and I did my best to make my handwriting legible as I scribbled in personalized notes. Once she took her books to the register, the next woman stepped forward.
I lost track of time, my cheeks aching from smiling and my hand cramping from signing. But I didn’t mind. I was humbled and thrilled that so many people had come to the store.
“Chloe.”
I jolted at the sound of my real name spoken in a masculine voice, and I glanced up at my next reader.
My stomach lurched. “Neil,” I forced out his name on a whisper. My ex-husband planted his hands on the table and leaned forward so his shadow fell over me. I hadn’t seen him in two years, but he looked exactly the same as I remembered: dark green eyes, close-cropped black hair, stubble-covered square jaw, and full, smirking lips.
“What are you doing here?” I hated how my voice wavered. I swallowed and tried again. “Please leave.”
His smirk dropped to a scowl. “I came all the way from Chicago to see you.”
My mouth went dry. “How did you even know I’d be here?”
“I’ve been following your career. I saw you announce this signing on your Facebook page.”
“But I use a pen name.” My mind felt sticky, slow. I couldn’t fully process the fact that he was here, far too close.
“It’s not difficult to figure out,” he said, still frowning. “There was a story about your success in the local paper. It had your picture. I came here to see you.”
“Well, I don’t want to see you. I want you to leave.” I pushed back from the table and stood, trying to balance on trembling knees. I hated that he could do this to me, that he could strip away the confidence I’d built in the years since our divorce and leave me feeling weak. He might not have been physically abusive for most of our marriage, but time and distance had allowed me to see how he’d manipulated and belittled me.
His hand shot out, catching my upper arm and preventing me from putting farther distance between us. “Wait,” he bit out. “We’re not done talking.”
“Let me go,” I demanded raggedly. His fingers curled into my flesh. The dark memory I’d tried so hard to bury rose up: Neil, holding me down, the sce
nt of whiskey on his breath, the strength of his hands around my wrists, the burn of his cock as he tore into me.
“I read your books,” he said, ignoring my distress. “If I’d known what you wanted, I could have given it to you. You wouldn’t have left me.”
I couldn’t really focus on his words. I was too overwhelmed by the feel of his hand digging into my arm and the horrible memories of our last night together. I swallowed against the bile rising in the back of my throat.
“Get your hands off her,” Dex’s low growl penetrated my fear, tethering me to the present.
Neil didn’t comply. He kept his grip on me and turned a sneer on Dex. “This is none of your business. I’m talking to my wife.”
Dex’s face twisted to a mask of pure rage, and he moved faster than I could comprehend. Suddenly, Neil’s hold on me loosened. He cried out and fell to his knees. Dex held his arm, twisting it behind him at an unnatural angle.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t break your arm right now,” Dex snarled.
Neil glowered at me through watering eyes. “Who is this? Your boyfriend? Are you cheating on me, you filthy slut?”
Dex wrenched his arm upward, and he screamed.
“You can leave now, or I can crush all the bones in your hand,” Dex said, his voice soft and dangerous. “You will never see Chloe again. You will not come anywhere near her or attempt to contact her in any way. Do you understand?”
“Fuck you,” Neil spat.
Dex’s features hardened with grim determination. “Wrong answer.”
“Wait!” I gasped out. “Dex, wait.” Neil was spiteful and cruel. If Dex hurt him, he’d find a way to retaliate.
“Let me take care of this, Chloe,” Dex’s tone was tight with suppressed violence.
“You have,” I said quickly. “I just want to leave. Please.”
