by D. C. Stone
“No,” he grumbled. Actually, not for the town, just you. Always you.
He shrugged. “I’m meeting up with Charlie and Trent for a drink down on Main. You should come with us.”
Charlie was, without using the high school saying for BFFs, his closest friend and confidant, as well as a fellow NPD detective. Last summer some crazed lunatic had been set free on the streets of Nyack and managed for over three months to put the community in turmoil, his crimes escalating from breaking and enterings, on up to rape and murder. The chief, normally so protective of Charlie and never assigning her a violent case, had given her what he thought to be a simple Peeping Tom investigation. As the attacks and B&Es increased, the activity had garnered the attention of the FBI and brought two agents to assist, one of them being Trent Rossi. Besides working together to get the suspect caught and locked away, the two had fallen head over heels for one another and were inseparable.
Dwayne had never been one to envy anyone for anything. He believed you made your life what you wanted it to be and you were responsible for what accomplishments—and happiness—you could get alone. In recent days, though, each time he visited or hung out with the couple, he found his life lacking something, his vision turning green.
She grimaced. “Sounds a lot like a date. You know, with two couples there.”
He laughed, the sound awkward. “Who cares what it looks or sounds like. Besides, could it really be all that bad? You know, being on a date with me?” Who the hell was this fool who couldn’t seem to get an intelligent sentence out? What the hell was wrong with him?
Brooke wrinkled her nose and glanced away. He resisted letting out a sigh, already knowing she was going to turn him down. “You don’t want to go out on a date with me, nor be seen with me in public, Dwayne. I’m a mom, have so much baggage it’s not even funny, and just don’t have time for getting all dolled up and playing that scene. You don’t want to waste your time with me.”
He had to hold back so many words he wanted to say. They would scare the shit out of her and probably send her screaming for the hills. “I think you look fine how you are now.” He openly scanned her from the tips of her brown Sketcher boots, on up the length of those legs that seemed to go on for miles and were encased in jeans, over the thin white camisole and gray cardigan, past the sapphire-colored eyes sitting inside a heart-shaped face. “More than fine.”
Were her cheeks turning red? He smirked, enchanted by the sight.
“Ah, well, thanks. However, I think I’ll have to pass on this one. I have some writing to do. Maybe another time.”
He tried not to let disappointment show on his face but it flashed anyhow, because she said, “I promise, Dwayne. I’ll let you know.”
Yeah, when hell freezes over you will. “Sure, give me a call if you change your mind.”
She nodded, unable to hold his stare. Damn it. “I will. See you later.”
“Yeah.”
She lifted a hand and pivoted, then walked away. He kept his gaze on her, watched the sway of her hips, studied the glow the setting sun seemed to give her, and cursed being a chicken shit back in high school, as well as now.
Chapter Five
Hailey stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Her mom would have a shit-fit if she knew that she did this at Jaxon’s, and that’s why she had no intention on telling her. It wasn’t like he was in the bathroom with her anyway. The door was locked—another quick glance confirmed that—and besides, Jax was engaged with his friends out in the living room. She heard the low beat of bass as it shook the walls, with the occasional laugh leaving her very secure, and very alone while she cleaned up.
She grabbed her clothes from her bag and donned a white thermal and a pair of pink velvet track pants with the word “Juicy” written across her ass. She chuckled, turning to look in the mirror. They were a present from Jaxon, ones she wouldn’t normally wear, but having never received a present from a boy before—the only man ever to give her something was Dwayne, and he didn’t count—she could not refuse the gift. It was sweet.
Thoughtful.
And made her swoon.
Like she told her mom this morning.
After running a brush through her hair, she braided it behind her head and tossed everything back in her bag, then limped out of the bathroom. Jax’s room needed a bit of sprucing up, with a king-size bed and a few sheets in disarray across the width, some IKEA nightstand off to the side, and a poster of Bob Marley where the headboard to the bed should be, it looked more like a bachelor’s pad than anything in her house.
She tossed the bag on the bed and followed the sounds of what she guessed was a small party in full swing. Hobbling down the hall, regret settled in her stomach like a two-ton piece of concrete. She had wanted to spend a quiet night with Jaxon, just the two of them. There hadn’t been any days like that in the past few weeks. After he moved out of his parents’ house and into a place with his friend, it seemed as if people were always here, either smoking, or drinking, or shooting up.
She had yet to try any of it, both a little apprehensive about her first time with drugs, and the fact that she knew her mom would flip if she came home high. There would be no hiding it from her, either; she was too perceptive. And there wasn’t a night she went to bed that her mom hadn’t come in to say goodnight. Yeah, there’d be no way to hide any of it from her.
As she reached the living room—as bare as the bedroom—Jaxon bounded up from the ratty brown couch that had seen better days. He arrived at her side within seconds. She smiled at him and took his offered hand. She was so lucky to have such an understanding and thoughtful boyfriend. More so, while things got a bit hot and heavy the last few times they had been alone, he hadn’t pressured for more. Sure, he was horny and let her know just how much, even guided her hand to his package, but when it came to “the deed,” he didn’t seem to be in a rush to push her.
They reached the couch and Jaxon knocked some guy in the head. The guy lifted his head and glared, his brown eyes narrowed, then his gaze shot over to her and he promptly moved away.
Hailey sat next to Jaxon and took in what they were doing. Little foil packs were scattered across the wooden table, some sort of brown powder held inside of the bowl-like pieces. Bags of weed were tossed haphazardly across the table, and a lit bong was in the center as if a flower arrangement at a wedding.
A girl with short purple hair—whom Hailey deemed Mrs. Barney, seeing as no one introduced themselves—picked up a spoon and took some of the residue from the foil tins. She grabbed a lighter and ran the flame beneath the utensil for a few minutes. The ash turned to a liquid and bubbled before the black-haired male—who in the hell were all these people?—took a syringe and pulled the dark liquid inside. Mrs. Barney set the implement down and turned toward him. Jaxon wrapped a piece of latex around her arm, like the ones they used to tie off your arm when you gave blood at the hospital.
Adrenaline and a tiny bit of excitement shot through her as the pointer pierced Barney’s arm and the liquid disappeared. The girl looked up and sat back in her chair, contentment relaxing her features. Her eyes went hooded and she focused on Hailey across the table.
“Your turn.”
Something very like a snort popped out of her mouth before she could stop it. “I don’t think so.”
The guy—since he still had not been introduced to her, she would call him Emo—started preparing another spoon of what she suspected was heroine and spoke. “Princess too good?”
Stung with the remark, she flinched and waited for Jax to say something. He avoided her stare and reached for the bong, started to pack it with weed. She turned back to Emo.
“Of course not, but if I go home high, my mom will kick my ass.”
“Eh.” A flash of a lighter from Emo, but this time Jaxon spoke up. “The high only lasts for about four hours, tops. It won’t even be midnight, which is your curfew.” Popping bubbles filled the air as he inhaled from the bong and blew out a breath.
A low pain still wrapped around her knee and she reached down to rub at it. Emo nodded his head toward her action. “Take a small shot. It’ll help with the knee. Take the edge off.”
Jaxon turned to her and studied her limb before agreeing. “A small shot won’t hurt. Hell, you probably won’t be high as long.”
She furrowed her brows, still worried about what she should do. As if sensing her indecision, Jaxon leaned over and brushed his lips across hers. Her breath caught, as it always did. He pulled back and she met deep violet, intense eyes. “Trust me, baby? You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
She considered his words and, remembering it would be a small shot, she nodded with hesitation. It only took a small movement of her head for Jax to flash a wide grin. “You won’t regret it, babe. I promise.”
He reached for the latex string and grabbed her arm, tying it off, then took the needle Emo prepared and brought it to her vein. Her heart pounded in her throat as the needle pierced her skin. Her pulse kicked up a notch as the liquid disappeared inside.
A snap, and the band was removed. Relief hit her arm and she blinked, wondering if she was immune to the drug. She didn’t feel any different.
Just as the thought popped into her mind, waves of euphoric warmth spread through her veins. It seemed as if a thousand little flames, the cuddly kind you see in Christmas movies, danced along her bloodstream, spreading and growing until her back bowed off the couch, the pain in her knee forgotten.
Hell, she couldn’t think of anything but the hot, pulsing pleasure throbbing between her thighs and across her body. Her breath hitched and she cried out as an intense orgasm swept over her. Beneath the pound of her heart, she heard Jaxon groan and his lips brushed against her ear.
“God, babe, that was so fucking hot. You feel good?”
The tingly sensation wasn’t going away and she turned to meet his gaze, took his hand, and set it between her thighs. She reached for the back of his head to draw him down.
“Make this ache go away, Jax.”
He growled and took her mouth in a ravishing kiss, his teeth clashing against hers.
Music, something akin to beautiful bells, filled her mind. The bass from the speakers heightened the hazy sensations running through her. But his hand held her attention the most. He rubbed along the outside of her pants, and she wanted more.
Inhibitions gone, she came over the top of him, setting her thighs on either side of his as she kissed him again.
He stood, warning her to wrap her legs around him before moving, and carried her away. She didn’t pay mind to anyone else, her focus on him and the way her body brushed against the hardness in his jeans.
A door slammed and a second later, she landed hard against the mattress. She had no time to react as his large body covered hers. Roughly he pushed her legs apart so he could settle between them. She tugged at his back as he lapped at her neck. He murmured incoherent words, pulled at her clothing, and ripped her shirt over her head.
She lay back as his head moved to her breasts and he worked the bra with jerky and frantic pulls. Staring up at the brown-stained ceiling, her mind struggled to keep up. The room spun and her stomach turned. She whimpered.
Jaxon took it for something else and cooed, “It’s okay, Hails. I’ll take care of it.”
His hand snuck under the waist of her pants, spearing beneath her panties and touching her core. She grabbed at his wrist with both hands and shouted a startled cry. “Wait.”
“No,” he growled and pushed a thick finger inside her. Cool air invaded her skin down there and gave her a clue of how wet she was, but his touch wasn’t gentle at all. It cut through the haze. Hurt.
She bit her lip and tried to tug his hand again. Her spinning head made nausea rise up the back of her throat. “Jaxon, please, stop.”
He lifted his head and gave her an incredulous look. “No, you asked for this.” He shifted his hips, rolled a hard ridge against her hip. “Stop teasing and give it to me. I’ll make you feel good, better than you do already.”
He dropped his head again and tore down her bra with his teeth, baring her breasts to the cooler air. His mouth clamped over her peak, sucked too hard, and she bit her lip, tears stinging her eyes.
What had she done?
He lifted from her and before she could react, he ripped her pants off. Moments later, warm, bare skin lay on top of her. His knees forced her legs open. She tensed when his erection prodded at the part of her no one had touched before.
“Jax, wait, please.” Tears trailed down her temples and dipped into her ears. She pushed at his shoulders. He grunted, then slammed his hips forward.
Oh, God, what have I done?
Chapter Six
Brooke stirred the creamer in the coffee, watching as it blended with the darker color until becoming a light shade, the same matching Dwayne’s skin. The fact that she compared her java to the man who’d haunted her dreams last night said far too much.
She wasn’t some willy-nilly teenager who swooned at the words of young men. Nor was she some woman who hadn’t lived and learned from her mistakes. Dwayne equaled everything she promised to stay away from, a man who could be her ex-husband’s clone. Leo, voted most popular in high school, had been the man on campus, so to speak. She remembered seeing too many females’ eyes get all starry when he walked by. But she ignored it all, simply happy to be beneath his arm. His girl. She’d been too naïve at the time and believed they would be together for life. After all, didn’t true love last forever?
Getting pregnant, while it had been alarming, was a blessing. They married weeks later, months after graduating. Blind to what occurred behind her back, Brooke considered herself lucky.
Finding him between Hailey’s kindergarten teacher’s legs had not been the first time she caught him engaged in illicit activities with other women, but it sure had been the last.
Dwayne, while she could not say he ever cheated on a girlfriend, and never married, may as well have been cut from the same crop as Leo. The man did not settle down. Instead he seemed to jump beds like it was some kind of sport. He was easy on the eyes; hell, the man was a sugar-coated treat to look at, and damn sweet with her kid, but outside that, no future existed for them.
No way she’d jump into his bed and become one of the countless females he had sex with. There was no doubt he would be a treasure between the sheets, but she wasn’t one to get involved in a casual sex relationship. Her mind was not built that way. Nor her heart. It had been years since she gave in to the touch of a man, and Leo being her only conquest, that wasn’t saying much.
So no, getting involved with Dwayne would be a bad idea despite his sexy smile, his bedroom eyes, and his dark, good looks.
What a shame.
Hailey walked into the kitchen, pulling her from remembering her too-hot dreams last night, starring her very own Eliot Stabler. She frowned, taking in Hailey’s appearance. Her normally smiling face had a look of sadness to it, purple shadows beneath her eyes, and strain darkening the lines on her forehead. Brooke jumped from the chair and her only thought was finding out what was wrong.
“What’s the matter? Are you sick?” She reached out, but Hailey drew back, avoided her touch, and refused to meet her eyes.
“No, I’m just a little under the weather is all. Think I’m getting my period.”
Brooke didn’t believe the lie for one second. They were on the same schedules and TOM—time of month—was weeks away from visiting. The avoidance spoke volumes, but she tamped down on the urge to push. If Hailey wanted to talk, she would. While Brooke didn’t like secrets and still worried, she knew it would only get worse and her daughter would pull away.
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br /> Therefore, instead of taking Hailey in her arms and holding her tight, promising to help with whatever, she stepped back and fixed a smile on her face.
“Do you want something to eat?”
Hailey grabbed her bag and shook her head, gaze still evasive. “No, I’m going to school.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Yeah, sorry, we’ll catch up later, Mom.” She turned away and walked from the room. The sound of the door closing moments later clicked something in gear and Brooke rushed out of the house.
“Hailey! Hold on.”
Hailey froze on the lawn but didn’t turn. Her daughter’s shoulders shook. An alarm went skittering in Brooke. “Hailey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” She grabbed her shoulder and turned her.
Hailey took a step back again, out of her reach. “Stop it.” Tears tracked in lonely rivulets down her precious face. Her nose was red and her cheeks blotchy. Something was seriously amiss, but damn it, what could she do?
“I don’t have to tell you everything, you know? Why don’t you get a life and stay out of mine?”
Brooke bit her cheek and forced a breath in and out before she responded. “Now you listen here, Hailey Marie Mason, you may be going on eighteen, but you are still my daughter. You will watch your tone. I’m not trying to push myself into anything, but I want to know why you are upset. You’re not acting like yourself this morning, and the tears are proof that there’s something the matter. If I can help, I will.”
Hailey rolled her eyes but refused to meet her gaze. She could handle the attitude, all a part of being a mom to a teenager, but the distrust, the secrets, cut deeper than anything else. The thing was, Hailey knew that, too. Especially after everything with her father.
“No, Brooke, you do push. You dig your way into each part of my life, and I’m sick of it. No wonder Dad ran off, you can’t seem to stop clawing at the blackboard. I’m sure if you would have been a bit more into him, he would have stayed.”
