Intimate Danger (Empire Blue Book 1)

by D. C. Stone

  She was sick and tired of being looked at like she was some kind of experiment. “You know what? Forget it, I’m busy.”

  She palmed the door and moved to shut it, but he stepped forward and stopped it with his foot. “Charlie, seriously. I need to talk to you. This isn’t healthy.”

  “You think I need you to remind me? Do you think I don’t know this?”

  She tossed her hands in the air and stepped away when he refused to move. She turned and crossed through the house again, hearing him moving behind her.

  She flopped down unceremoniously on the couch. He stepped in the room, but she refused to meet his gaze, couldn’t. The tears she kept at bay caused her to blink in haste, the sting behind her lids unbearable. Damn, pushy fool.

  Several seconds passed, and then he sighed. She looked up, found him watching her and removing his jacket before tossing it aside. He sat on the couch and grabbed her wrist, tugged. She went, realizing he would not let her get away and she really didn’t know if she wanted to. She needed the comfort, even though it was another’s touch she craved.

  Pulling her across his lap, he pressed her head to his shoulder, set the other hand on her thigh and held her in silence. The support was the final straw, and the tears she’d held in flowed. Quiet sobs shook her chest, but he tugged her closer, whispered words she didn’t hear.

  After what seemed like a lifetime, Charlie lifted her head and pulled away from his shoulder. She flinched when she saw his light blue shirt stained with tears. “Hell, I’m sorry, D.”

  He palmed her cheek and tipped her face to his. Thumbs brushed away the wetness and he studied her carefully. “We’re friends. There’s no need to apologize. I’m just worried about whether you are okay or not. As much as I tease you, as silly as I’ve said this all is, you are one of my closest friends. Someone I care for.”

  She sniffed and tilted her face into his touch. Her chest still hurt like hell, her heart breaking. Could she be okay? Would she get through this loss after suffering so much through her life? She had to think so, things couldn’t possibly get any worse.

  She stared into the deep green gaze of Dwayne’s and knew the answer. She’d have to be okay. Life went on. It didn’t stop for anyone, for anything. Death, destruction, and pain filled the world, yet the planet still rotated.

  She would get through this because of the support she had right here.

  “Look,” he said, “you just got rid of me, got me back in my own place, and now you’re feeling lonely with Rossi gone. Anyone could understand that. However, I swear the next time I see him I’m going to beat his ass.”

  He rose from the couch and held out his hand. She slipped hers into his warm touch and handed him his coat as he led her to the front door. “I like that laugh of yours, Charlie.” He opened the door and stepped out, turned and tugged her into his arms. “Don’t lose it. Remember where it is and bring it out to see us more often.” He leaned down, brushed his lips against hers chastely.

  “ Goodnight, Charlie.”

  As he turned to go, they both froze when a newcomer became visible.

  Trent Rossi stood at the bottom of her steps, a duffel bag in one hand and a murderous expression on his face.

  ****

  It took every ounce of Trent’s willpower not turn around and walk back to his car, drive to the city, and leave all of this drama behind. He had finally gotten everything situated, the case, his apartment, and his mother with good round-the-clock care, so he could come here and tell Charlie how much he’d come to love her.

  And here she was, on the front porch kissing Dwayne goodbye. Okay, okay, so Dwayne had kissed her, but still.

  Trent couldn’t move away. Despite every indicator she had already moved on, letting go of her wasn’t an option.

  He sat the duffel bag at his feet and switched his gaze between Charlie and Dwayne. Dwayne lifted his hands, palms facing out and stepped forward. He stopped when he reached Trent, but didn’t meet his eyes, just stared ahead. Trent mimicked the pose, only he stared at Charlie on the porch, hair disheveled and wild, reminding him of the nights they spent together. He gnashed his teeth together in order to keep from slamming a fist into Dwayne’s face. She looked thoroughly fucked.

  “She’s experienced more loss than you could ever possibly imagine, Rossi.”

  “You here to provide a little comfort?”

  Dwayne cursed beneath his breath. Trent’s gaze stayed on Charlie. She bit her lip, looking between the two of them. The white robe gaped at the top, giving him a glimpse of the light pink camisole beneath. His pulse thundered in his neck.

  Dwayne shifted. “Dude, of course you’d think that, right? I don’t have to explain anything, but I will educate you on something before I take off.” The male turned to him then, and Trent twisted his head to stare into hard green eyes.

  “You hurt her, you use her in any way other than what she’s worthy of, and I will track you down. You don’t deserve her. Hell, neither of us do, but remember, I’ll always be her friend. I’ll always be in her life. You fuck it up, and I’ll be the first to help her say goodbye.”

  Without waiting for a response, Dwayne turned and stalked down the walkway, slid into a silver cruiser, and pulled away. Trent turned and stared at the browning grass and tried to rein his emotions under control. He hated to admit Dwayne was right, but the man was. He tried to clear the haze from his vision. His chest felt like it was splitting in two. He lifted his head, found Charlie standing before him, studying his face. She didn’t say a word, refused to give an excuse, but held out her hand, silently waiting—for him.

  He slipped his hand into hers. The relief in her eyes was tangible, and she gave a brief smile before turning to walk into her house.

  He followed and stepped inside, kicking the door shut. Dropping his bag, it was still in the air as he took her in his arms and pressed her to the wall. Trent’s mouth came down on hers in a show of brutal possession. He didn’t know why he did it, but his only thought was how much he wanted her to smell of him, feel from him, see…him. Her unbound breasts, covered by thin cotton, pressed against his chest. He felt every curve of those mounds and gave a silent shout of satisfaction as her nipples hardened into perky peaks against his body.

  He tangled one hand in her hair and tugged, forcing the angle so he could conquer. His kiss dove deep, claiming possession and marking every bit of her mouth, trying to push inside even more. He didn’t want to give her a chance to think…he only wanted her to remember how she could feel…with him.

  He hadn’t planned on getting intimate with her again so soon, and cursed himself for falling into her spell again. Every time he was around her, his willpower seemed to go away, fall into the abyss like a melting ice cap into the sea.

  She whimpered and clutched at his shoulders, and the kneading of her small hands drove his hunger higher, the insane need to be inside her extreme.

  He wrapped one arm around her waist, lifted and turned toward the kitchen. She followed the unspoken command, and her legs wrapped around his hips. A groan rumbled inside his chest. Their mouths tangled and clashed, desire a potent, living and breathing thing. He stumbled blindly, torn between concentrating on where he was going, and the distraction to his common sense.

  She was surprisingly light in his arms, especially with how strong he’d seen she could be. With one hand around his neck, the other dropped between their bodies and tugged on his belt.

  Unable to focus, he spun her into the wall. A picture some feet away fell from its fastening and tumbled to the floor with a loud crash. He slapped a hand against the white plaster, trying to clutch for some solid ground in the sea of lust. With knees pressed into the wood, he held their bodies up from the sheer driving force of need alone.

  His feet planted wide in order to hold her weight to him, he tore at her robe with his free hand, gave a harsh growl of approval once he got it free. Squeezing his eyes shut, he dropped his head to her neck as his hands went searching. He found only p
anties beneath. Damn it, he knew he should go, but he couldn’t. A quick snap of the band at her hip, and her underwear fell away. His hips shifted, slammed forward and then—blessed heaven—he sank deep inside.

  Charlie gasped and cried out. He sank his teeth into the crook of her neck, wrapped both palms around her hips, and pounded into her with sure, hard strokes. Sweet, warm honey gripped his cock like a tight fist. He clutched for reason, prayed for the sense to stop the madness.

  With no control over his body, sanity failed. Instead, his hips drove in and out, her erotic moans adding fuel to his inferno. He hissed as her shouts of passion grew in crescendo. Her body tightened and she sang her release, harsh sobs filling the air.

  “Goddamnit, Charlie. What do you do to me?”

  She tried to turn her face toward him, but he held in place, pressing his head to hers, cheek to cheek. Unable to take from her mouth, something in his chest broke at the impending loss. He wrapped his hands under her ass, shifted upward and on the next thrust, fell in deeper. They both groaned. He tried to shield her body from the slamming against the wall, felt the pain wash over his hands with each thrust, and was hopeless to stop.

  Charlie pushed at his shoulders, scraped her nails down the back of his neck and called out his name.

  “Trent, please.”

  He froze, his hips holding hers to the wall. She asked him to stop and even if it fucking killed him, he’d give her whatever she wanted. His breath came out in ragged, choppy gasps. What the fuck was he doing? How had he fallen to such a low? He removed a hand from the globe of her ass and set it next to her head, struggling for control. She was going to end this. He knew it. A fissure cracked through his heart. Damn, this was going to hurt.

  “Trent.” This time softer, a sweet brush of her palm on his neck.

  This was wrong, all of it. He missed her so much, had craved her for days only to come to her door and find her and Dwayne together in an embrace that looked anything but platonic. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought to kill the image. How could he have been so wrong about her? Why did this shit make his lungs ache?

  She must have felt his struggles, and pulled closer. The softest brush of her lips pressed to his temple followed by a silky sigh.

  “God, I missed you, Trent.”

  His throat grew thick and he kicked at his pants, pushed off his shoes, then wrapped both arms around her. Clear of the jeans, he turned and crossed the few short feet to the couch. They fell in a tumble of limbs to the cushions. His erection, still thick and eager, refused to let up. A testament to how much he wanted her.

  “Look at me, please,” she rasped.

  He rose, held his weight on his forearms and met her eyes. His hips drew out and pushed back in.

  Charlie’s mouth parted.

  His feet clutched for purchase as he tried to sink deeper. He wanted to be surrounded by her, wanted to claim and possess. God, he just wanted…craved. His gaze locked on hers as he moved in a fluid rhythm, their bodies undulating against each other in perfect synchronization.

  The base of his spine tingled and heat kicked, spread from his groin out. The orgasm was as hot as he imagined the sun to be, yet cold from the deepest recess of space. He embraced her stare, held it until the last pulses turned into shudders and then dropped his head to her chest, panting. Beneath his ear, her heart pounded erratically.

  Trent pulled away, withdrew from her body and sat up on the couch, dropped his head into his hands as shame rolled through.

  “Christ!”

  The couch shifted and her leg brushed his.

  “You can say that again.”

  He didn’t speak. He couldn’t, there wasn’t anything to say.

  The chime of a clock rang down the hall, the ticking of his own watch sounded loud in his ears.

  “Where have you been, Trent?”

  He leaned back on the couch, tossed an arm over his eyes, unable to meet her accusing gaze. Fucking hell, this was so wrong. He needed to go.

  “In the city. You knew that.”

  An audible swallow, then, “I did, but why didn’t I hear from you?”

  He let out a heavy sigh and dropped his arm but didn’t turn to her. “Management struggled with the entire case. I was pulling eighteen-hour days, interviewing Echols over and over again. There were trips to D.C. pushed in at the last minute in order to find previous victims. And then dealing with Echols’ wife was a whole other issue. She was unaware of what kind of man her husband was, and was able to give us keys to another storage locker where he had even more pictures and trophies. She always thought it was a place he held stuff for work, never thought it was a place to store his thefts. Through all of it, I was hardly alone, and when I would get the time to catch sleep, it was too late to call. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking of you.”

  “I thought you were blowing me off.”

  He snapped his gaze to hers and flinched.

  Jesus. She deserved more than that. And looking back on his time away, he should have made a point to make sure she got it.

  “I wasn’t.”

  She searched his expression, her bottom lip pulling in between teeth. “I’m glad you weren’t and happy to know, but it’s what I believed. I felt pathetic I let my feelings for you drive and build so far in my mind.”

  He frowned. How could she sit here, after her and Dwayne…after what they just… Before he could form any response, she continued.

  “I got so angry, I didn’t know what to think, how to figure out what was wrong with me. Everyone I’ve loved has left, Trent. And that’s exactly what I thought you were doing.”

  Something clicked and a match of hope sparked into a tiny flame.

  “Wait, what does that mean?”

  She wrapped her robe around her bared body, but kept his gaze, a steady focus to light the path.

  “When I didn’t hear from you, I thought you had moved on.”

  Trent shook his head. “No, not that. About everyone leaving.” He took a breath. “The love.”

  She swallowed hard. “They have,” she whispered.

  He wanted to turn that small flame into a torch, but refused to rush it. The path was slippery and it was like he walked on granite in the rain. One wrong move and they would both stumble down the rock. First, he needed to get a few things straight.

  “You thought I left you for good?”

  She nodded and he sat forward, forced down the threatening excitement.

  “What was Dwayne doing here…?” He cleared his throat. “Before?” Trent brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

  “He came to check in on me. Gave me a kick to the rear I needed.”

  He looked for the truth in her eyes. The cloud of suspicion sat like a piece of cement in his stomach. He couldn’t ignore it. Had to know.

  “Do you love him, Charlie?”

  She sighed, her eyes turning down with sadness. “Of course I do, Trent. However, not like you think. More like a brother. And don’t tell me you weren’t thinking it. You’ve been showing your thoughts since you walked in the door.”

  Fair enough. “Do you—do you love me, Charlese?”

  A brief smile flitted over her lips before tears welled. He palmed her face, his own heart pounding so loud he wondered if she heard.

  “So much,” she choked out.

  Finally!

  His heart gave a solid thump against his ribs, threatened to break through as he tugged her into his arms. She came willingly, her frame wrapping around him, fitting as if they had been made to do such. He tucked her head beneath his chin and held tight, refusing to move from this moment. There would be challenges in their future—he wasn’t so naïve to believe it would be sweet romances, sultry embraces, and poetic words. No, their world would be filled with death, violence, and destruction. Nevertheless, one thing he was sure of, one thing he believed completely down to the core of who he was—they would get through it together. In a world where they saw only the bad and ugly—he and Charlie would fig
ht the battle as one.

  Epilogue

  In her backyard, Charlie leaned in the chair and watched her friends and pseudo-family interact. The chief doted over Trent’s mother, his normally gruff stature softening even as his wife sat nearby and chatted with the frail woman. Her heart swelled, watching her family, the ones who had come to mean the world to her, embrace the changes in her life.

  Trent had moved in a month earlier, refusing to leave her side for any longer than a night. Traveling to the city had been hard, and the worry over his mother’s health drained him so much they both made the decision to bring her closer. And that was what mattered to her most of all, that they both had discussed it and came to the conclusion together. Martha seemed to be in a happier place, her skin and mind healthier, now that she saw her son on a constant basis.

  She turned toward Trent and sucked in a sharp breath as she met his vivid blue gaze. The sun shining above had nothing on the heat generated inside her every time she looked at him. Brighter than the clear, cold blue sky, his eyes spoke so much, conveying trust, love, and affection. A wry smile played on his lips and he tracked a slow, languorous path down her body. She felt it as if it were a physical touch and shivered when he lifted his eyes back to her face.

  He turned away, passed the grill’s spatula to Peter whose grin spread as if he’d been handed a winning lottery ticket. Laughter bubbled in her chest as she heard the warning tone of his wife and saw the plump man’s face fall, sullen.

  She squirmed in the seat as Trent stalked across the yard. Despite the cooler weather, she suddenly could do without the heavy parka and scarf. He moved with a fluid grace, all sinewy muscles beneath a black thermal. Dark hair whipped over his forehead, the blustering wind starting to pick up. Hopefully, they’d be able to enjoy a bit more time outside before the weather changed too much.

  He reached her chair and held out a hand. She took it, jumped as an electrical charge sparked between their palms. A quick yank and she rose without a fight when he pulled her into his arms. Her body pressed to the solid chest, fit in perfect synchronization to his. He brushed a hand over the back of her hair and wrapped an arm around her lower back, then bent forward.