by Traci Hall
K’s body melted as he said, “I want to memorize every inch of you.”
He had a scar along his inner wrist, the flames of a dragon tattoo covering some of the jagged line. Joe had stories to tell, and she wanted to know them all. “We might be here a while,” she whispered, placing her hand over his heart. It thudded beneath her, powerful and strong.
“For the first time since I transferred here, I wish I didn’t have to go to work. It’s been all that’s kept me sane so I’ve been doing overtime. Now?” He pushed his hand into the hair at the back of her scalp, sending chills down her back as she leaned into his touch.
“You could always have the flu,” she said, skimming her fingers down his chest to his muscled abdomen. “I could be your nurse.”
Her fingers stopped at the waist of his shorts and she dipped her fingers beneath his tee to place her hand palm flat on his stomach. “You’re warm. Fever?”
“You’re hot.” He leaned down to nip her earlobe. “Bedroom?”
She shrugged, knowing she’d take him however he came. “Wherever.”
Joe’s eyes turned golden and sensuous and filled with promises. “You don’t mind a little adventure?” He brought his hand to her hip, cupping her ass and bringing her to fit against his hard length. Her inner muscles clenched on a wave of pleasure that was just a prelude to the main event.
“No,” she said. “Playtime can be fun. But I don’t share well, so just you and me.”
He crushed his mouth against hers, sipping from her, enjoying her as if she tasted like the finest brandy. “Me either. I like just you and me a lot.”
He swept her off of her feet and carried her down the hall, kissing her the entire way. Joe turned right into a room that smelled like pine soap and male. He set her on her feet. His hand lingered on her lower back just above her ass.
She looked around his bedroom, noting the blue and brown space. The furniture was solid wood, the curtain deep blue and brown checked with bamboo blinds, which were closed. He didn’t switch on the light, instead, Joe lit a salt rock lamp that gave a sensual glow.
He turned her to face him, sliding the borrowed white sweater from her shoulders down to her elbows where he caught her and pulled her close for a hot, quick kiss.
Then he released her and slid the sweater all the way off.
“My turn,” she said, hardly recognizing her own voice.
She lifted his t-shirt, caressing his body as she inched it up, pausing at his beaded nipples. She flicked her tongue over each bud and watched his skin prickle and his chest flush. He yanked the shirt the rest of the way, walking her back against the bed, his mouth seared on hers.
“Too damn sexy for your own good,” he mumbled against her lips.
“You are, Joe.” She smoothed her hands across his broad shoulders, tanned by the Florida sun. His muscles were finely delineated, but not bulging. The only thing bulging was his cock, she thought, running her fingers down his hardness, through his shorts.
He unbuttoned them with impatience. “This is taking too long.”
“Aren’t you the impatient one?” She laughed low, turning around so that he could unzip her dress. This put her facing the bed, with him behind her and he slowly lowered the zipper. Each second of cool air against her burning skin was agony, her breasts so full they ached.
She stepped from the dress, clad only in her bra and panties. Black lace on black satin. He didn’t let her turn around but kept her facing the bed, bending her over so that her nipples brushed the bed. The contact brought relief, though she would have preferred his hands.
He roamed his hands over her back, massaging the muscles as he went, using his thumb to press down her spine. She felt his touch as he caressed her hips, then pressed himself against her from behind. “Condom?”
“Yes, ma’am. But don’t move. I love this view. You, K, have a glorious ass.” He gave her a light smack which made her jump. She heard the sound of foil, then felt him tug at the elastic band of her panties. “These have to go, babe.”
He turned her around. “I wanted to go so much slower with you, but if I don’t have you soon I’m going to die, I swear.” He put her back on the bed, laying her down against the deep blue comforter and spreading her hair out on the pillow. “You are so beautiful.”
His golden green eyes smoldered and she’d never felt more desired in her life. He kissed her until her lips stung, then made his way with that magnificent mouth down her throat. He stopped at each breast, lavishing attention with hands, mouth and teeth.
By the time he nudged her legs apart, she was already coming. His swift entrance into her aching body brought her to the edge and she gladly took the leap into pleasure. Orgasm after orgasm rocked her body, little quakes from the inside out. He came, shouting into the pillow beside her head. He held her close as they each trembled with intense aftershocks that were just as sweet as the first. “I’m so glad you stayed.”
K didn’t want to move, ever, she thought as she breathed in Joe’s scent. She wouldn’t ruin this perfect moment by thinking of how to say good-bye.
Chapter Twelve
Joe woke from his deep doze with a start. He had to be dreaming, he thought, looking down at the platinum blonde head resting on his chest. Pale pink fingernails splayed against his lower belly and just seeing her hand that close made him want her all over again.
She twitched, then sat up. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep!”
He looked at the clock. “Not even an hour. Which means that I have just enough time to make you dinner before I have to go to work. I’m starving—we never managed to eat lunch.”
“I could cook for you,” she said.
“You’re my guest. I’ll do the cooking.”
She sat up without covering her breasts, comfortable in her skin. He liked that about her. Hell, he liked everything about her.
“Are you any good?” she asked, her brown eyes wide and overly-innocent.
“You know it,” he answered, leaning over to lick her nipple.
“What will you make?” She sat with her legs crossed in front of her.
He leaned on one elbow, taking in her satiated posture, touching the soft skin on her calf.
“Steak? Or I can throw some shrimp on the grill. I have stuff to make a salad, too.”
“You have evolved from the typical man.”
Joe laughed. “Come on. As much as I would like to stay here, if we do I’ll be late to work. If you’d like to shower, there are towels on the cabinet next to the stall.”
She nodded and got out of bed, her perfect heart-shaped ass on display as she padded into the connected bathroom.
“Love the view,” he said, getting out of bed with a grin. If he could keep her sexually satisfied, well-fed, and entertained, just maybe she’d realize that she couldn’t live without him.
He tossed on loose shorts and a t-shirt and walked to the kitchen where he drained another bottle of water, setting one out for K. Taking shrimp from the freezer, he put them in a colander and put them in the sink beneath a spray of cool water.
“Phone!” he thought, pulling the lettuce from the crisper. “Where did I have it last?”
He searched his pockets, the bedroom floor, then finally walked out to the garage. Sure enough, it was in his car between the seats.
It rang in his hand and he jumped, startled. “Hello?”
“Chief Gamble here. Where have you been?”
“Home. Why?”
“You got a special delivery here at the office.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A bullet. Anything you want to tell me?”
Shit. “I was going to tell you about it when I came in.”
“When you didn’t answer your phone, and all we got was this bullet with your name on it, literally, we figured we were looking for a dead body. I was about to send a car over to your place.”
“Sorry, Chief. Somebody shot at me this morning. Missed, and took out my back window. I c
alled in the description of the Lincoln.”
“I see that. The call was logged in at 10:03 this morning. But you didn’t give an explanation as to why exactly we were on the look for one. It’s 3:07 now. Why didn’t you come in?”
This was the first time that Joe had been in trouble with this particular chief. “Sorry. I’m just used to doing my own thing.” Working undercover he had much looser rules and was expected to act independently.
“That’s not how we do it here. You’re part of a team. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you here at five on the dot, your car ready for inspection. We’ll be going over your file to decide the best course of action.”
That didn’t sound so good, but the chief hung up without asking how Joe felt about it.
Whistling, he went back inside the house and turned the spray off the shrimp. He heard K walking down the hall, her bare feet making slapping noises against the ceramic tile.
“Just got off the phone with the chief,” he said, looking up from the sink.
K, bright-cheeked with a towel wrapped around her body and her hair, sidled next to him and looked at the pink shrimp in the colander. “Did you decide to call in sick after all?”
“I don’t do that,” he said with a chuckle. “He reamed me for not coming in as soon as that shot took out my window.”
“I can’t blame him. He’s probably worried. Why’d he call?”
He didn’t answer, and busied himself gathering herbs for the shrimp. He should have been more cautious in his word choice.
“Excuse me, Joe. No lies, now. Why did the chief call you? Was it about the Lincoln?”
He sighed. The woman was a freaking detective, not a lawyer. It would be easy to tell a lie to make her feel better. It would be simple to disregard their agreement. But he’d made the damn thing, so he’d better honor it.
She deserved the truth. She waited at the counter, her expression serious. “Why?”
“He called because someone delivered a bullet with my name on it to the station. When I didn’t answer my phone, they got worried. But I’d left my phone in the car. Dropped it when kissing you, probably.”
“I like that you were kissing me.” She frowned. “I don’t like that there is another threat against your life. That bothers me, Joe. Don’t mind saying.”
Her earnest tone tickled him and he laughed. “Honey, I’ve been getting these things since the bust that almost killed me.”
“A year and a half ago? I want to know about that. Before, I respected your privacy—but we’re friends now. Close friends.”
Is that what she thought? Joe gritted his teeth and took out some more water bottles. “Too bad we can’t have some tequila shooters.”
“You’re on duty in less than two hours.” She shook her head. “I’ll take water too, please. If you need something to do while you tell me, start making the salad before we grill the shrimp. I’ll help.”
He gathered a tomato, carrots and a cucumber. She slid around the counter and opened drawers until she found a knife, a peeler and cutting board. He washed the veggies and they stood next to one another prepping the salad.
Finally, when he had it in his head how he wanted to talk about it, he said, “My job was to take down the head of the XTC ring. I told you that one of the guys I’d sort of made friends with got killed. Well, he was killed because of me. Because the gang wanted me, and even though he told them where I was, they still slit his throat.” His own throat clogged, but he moved through the emotion. Accepting it, feeling it. But not keeping it.
She kept working next to him, not saying anything, though she moved an inch closer.
Joe said, “So this gang found me. Caught me. Tortured me. But I wouldn’t give up that I was undercover, or that there were other undercover cops in their gang.”
She nodded but kept her head down.
“I told you that my dad was there for me, and I believe it to my soul. Just when I knew I could have died I heard him tell me to play dead, then go for my attacker. Jorge. The two leaders were brothers. Jorge was older, Juanito the youngest. I fell, limp, and waited. Sure enough, Jorge claimed he’d kill me. Narco, he called me. Now, my eyes are closed so I don’t know how I know where those two are in the scheme of the room, but I do know—somehow. I knew that Jorge was standing to my left, like the king of the hill, overseeing my torture . And Juanito, he was bending to my right, to check my pulse at my throat.”
He heard K swallow. She stopped peeling the carrot but kept looking down at the cutting board.
“I jumped him. Somehow, I knew exactly where to hit him to shove his nose into his face and down he went. Crumpled. And Jorge, he came for me, but that was when the cops showed up. Jorge was tossed in jail. Juanito died.”
“Is Jorge the one who wants you dead?”
“He’s still in prison in Boston. I’m to be notified if he ever comes up for parole, because he promised vengeance.”
“What happened to the gang?”
“Dissolved.”
She started peeling the carrot again. “Who else did you piss off?”
“Where do I start?” He tore up the lettuce and tossed it into a bowl, then added the cucumber. “Seriously, my cover was never blown in any of the busts that went down. Let me slice that carrot for you.”
“You’re good with a knife,” she said.
“And a gun, and my fists.” He stopped messing with the salad and turned toward her. “Are you okay?”
Her lovely brown eyes brimmed with tears she was embarrassed for him to see as she ducked her head.
“What, K?” Joe had the worst feeling in his stomach. He should have lied.
“You,” she said with a sniff. “You’re brave. Strong. And the fact that you’re a nice person on top of that?”
“It’s the therapy,” he said, not sure what to do. He’d expected her to say that his job was too much. Not tell him he was nice.
“Bullshit. Therapy helps you unravel a few knots, but you, at your core, are a man of principle.” She quickly put her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest. “I don’t want you to die, Joe.”
Joe knew at that moment he’d do anything to stay alive just for more time with her.
*****
K took the towel from her hair and wiped her eyes, stepping back to look at Joe. “I knew making love with you would change my world. You make me cry.” She swiped at her cheeks and sniffed.
His ruffled his hair. “Not a good thing?”
“I hate crying. I don’t have a heart, remember?” Being reminded that it was there really sucked.
He kissed her. “Not true, Ms. Aneko.” He turned to the counter. “Salad’s done. Shrimp will take ten minutes. Why don’t you go get dressed?”
“But we still don’t know who wants you dead.”
“Quite a few departments are looking into it.”
That didn’t make her feel better when a bullet was delivered with his name on it right to the police department. She went to the bedroom, shimmied into her panties and bra and put Rita’s dress back on, then the sweater. She towel dried her hair, then hung it on the rack.
This afternoon with Joe had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced, maybe because he demanded emotion from her. Which she gave—that was the odd part. She didn’t want to call it making love, but it was more than sex. She’d grant him that.
She checked her phone to find two texts from Jamal, both angry about the change for the hearing. She knew Jamal was worried he’d have to go to jail. She sent back a text that simply read trust me.
A voicemail from her mother, of all people, telling her that the stars warned of danger.
Not a call she’d be returning.
And a message from Rita at the hospital telling her she was sorry for being such a pain in the ass, but to help herself to anything in the closet and that there was a little mad money in the tea jar.
K shook her head. “Unfreakingbelievable,” she said
as she came around to the kitchen. Joe was on the back patio, chef’s apron around his shorts. He was adorable. Sexy, funny. A really great guy. His violent past was something she didn’t understand.
She was grateful he was getting help to move through the anger. She could imagine the emotions he must have stifled through the years, reaching adulthood by spending a good portion of his time pretending to be a teenaged or young adult drug lord.
He came in, shut the screen door behind him with the platter of shrimp steaming in his hand. “Voila!” he said.
She sat at the small dining table off the kitchen, noting that he’d already set the dishes out and the salad. Napkins at the side of the plates, silverware and water glasses. “You’re pretty amazing.”
“Thanks.” He kissed her head and sat down, setting the platter between them. “You too. A thousand times better than amazing.”
They each dished their own plates and dug in. “Delicious,” K said, her logical mind snagging on the chain of events.
In her job, she looked for loopholes, for pitfalls, for untruths. Things that didn’t fit.
She was good at it, too, and her brain was not happy with something in Joe’s story. She finished chewing, then her stomach knotted tight. “Joe. The bullet that was delivered to the department? Had it been discharged? Used?”
“I don’t know. Why?” He popped the last shrimp into his mouth.
“Did you ever get it from the back of your car? We were together practically all day. The glass is still broken over the seat.”
He stopped chewing and swallowed, his smile faltering. “I was leaving it to take care of at work.” Then he got up and went to the garage, K right on his heels.
He flipped on the light. She gulped and somehow restrained from squealing at shadows. His garage was small, but neat. His car fit in the center. No room for anybody to hide.
He opened the garage door so they had more light and together they searched through the glass to see if the bullet was there.
“Nothing,” he said.
Every nerve in her body was set on edge. “Someone was in the garage while we were in the house.” Naked. Vulnerable.
