by Cecy Robson
“Yeah.” I glance at her clock. “I got another hour, but I should leave soon.”
“Why?”
“Need new clothes and a shower.” I scratch at the side of my face. “Shave, too, by the feel of it.”
She sticks out her bottom lip. “I wish you didn’t have to leave. Can’t you just watch me here?”
I tug on that lip with my teeth. “You know I can’t do that.”
“I know, I just…” She plays with that smooth spot on my chin, the one that never did grow any hair. “You make me happy,” she whispers.
Yeah? Well, same here. One of those sensitive types in the movies would tell her as much. But I’m not one to spill my guts. “Good,” I say, quietly.
She lays her head against my chest, like she’s trying to keep me with her. I let her because she feels good, warm. But then I steal another glance at the clock. “I should go, angel face.”
She turns her head and kisses me, then slips off without another word, backing all the way to her bedroom window, the one that faces the wall of the other apartment. I’m not sure why she’s giving me so much space, until she crosses her arms and lowers her chin. Tess is…sad, all over again. She doesn’t want me to leave her. But she doesn’t understand it’s not so easy for me to walk away.
“Hey,” I say, standing. She glances up. “My shift won’t end until about nine tonight. It’ll be late, but I know a few places that stay open. How ’bout we grab dinner?”
Tess smiles like she means it and drops her arms away, giving me a view of those breasts I sucked on and that drop-dead gorgeous body I can’t get enough of. I look down, and once more I’m ready to go. I spread out my hands and meet her face. “See what you went ahead and did? Now I’m not going to be able to get my shower.”
She laughs, but then stops laughing when she sees me snag another condom and slip it in place. I yank her to me, stamping my lips onto her eager mouth.
Damn. I’m starting to think that maybe I can’t get enough of this girl.
My knuckles graze over her nipples. I inch away to admire my handiwork. Her breath comes faster as her doe eyes alternate between watching me play and returning to my face. God, does she know what she’s doing to me?
I slide my hand down her flat stomach, between her legs, and…
Oh, shit.
Tess cranes her neck, moaning when my fingers easily slip in. Yeah, she’s ready for me, too. She reaches for me, but I whirl her around and press a hand between her shoulder blades, enough so she’ll bend over and spread her legs for me.
My body shudders as I make my way in, feeling her slick heat grip me tight. Tess grunts with my first thrust and whimpers at my second, and third, like she’s crying. I wind my hand under her arm to turn her face so I can see her, the urge to pound into her tightening my vocal cords. “Am I hurting you, beautiful?”
She whines a little, making me feel like I am. “No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” She tosses me a sinful look that almost brings me to my knees. “It just feels really good.”
I kiss her mouth and whisper against her lips. “What does, this?” I thrust, hard.
She curses and yanks on the sheer curtains. I hold still, knowing I’m driving her crazy by waiting. She glances over her shoulder again, her gaze steamy and her smile more nymph than lawyer. But then she does something I don’t expect. She tightens around me and moves her perfect ass in circling motions, slowly at first, until she has me falling forward from the feel of her riding me.
“Something wrong, cop?” she purrs.
Yeah, you can say it’s then that I completely lose it.
I clench her hips and drive into her while she rolls her ass, swearing as her body and mine collide. It’s like the first time I had sex: no grace, no technique, no nothing, just grinding away like I’m about to get caught. But no one will catch us, and my stamina is better than ever.
“Oh, God!” Tess screams. “Oh, God!” She grips the curtains, ripping them down, and Lord help me, I can’t stop.
My pounding is so forceful, her body slides against the glass. She fastens her hands to the frame to keep her balance. It takes some doing and a lot of focus, but I keep it up for one long while.
When I finally come, it’s potent, like a rush of adrenaline slamming into me at once. Her grunts, those moans, the spasms gripping me inside her, damn. There’s only so much a man can take.
I fall back, taking her with me. We land on our sides and on the hard wood, our bodies covered with sweat and both of us winded, gulping for air.
“I guess I should go to work now,” I gasp.
She laughs, only to quiver when I pull out. I roll her onto her back and push up on my forearms to hover above her. The smile she greets me with has me leaning into her for another long kiss. What the hell, I still have another twenty minutes.
A hard knock on her door has her jumping. It’s not Lu. This knock is angry. I wrench myself to my feet, reaching for my pants, and my gun. I check the chamber. “Stay here,” I tell her.
She clasps my wrist. “No, it’s okay. I know who it is.”
I pull on my pants when she releases me, but I keep my gun close. She glances around, frazzled, and then rushes to her dresser. “Tess, who is it?”
Another knock comes, this one more impatient. She stops dead in the middle of scrambling through her drawers. “Curran, it’s my father.”
It’s then that authoritative voice that threatened to kick my ass out of school barks in the hall. “Contessa. I know you’re in there.”
“I’m coming!” she calls out. She yanks on an old pair of pajamas, and then wraps herself in a thick robe. She glances at me as she reaches for her glasses. “I have company, Father!” she yells, only to quiet when she speaks to me. “Please come out when you’re dressed.”
She swiftly and silently gathers our trash, our empty cups, and the condoms scattered around the floor, shoving them into the paper bags of takeout.
Something isn’t right here. From the first knock, till now, she’s lost all the color in her face. I clasp her elbow. “What’s wrong?”
She’s on the verge of tears. “We don’t have a good relationship,” she admits.
“You and your dad?”
She grips the bag against her as if it can somehow protect her. I release her, mostly because something about holding her in place seems wrong now.
“I’m sorry,” she says. She hurries into the living area, shutting the door behind her.
I finish dressing as every curse word I know bounces around in my skull. Something is definitely up, but as I hear her fumbling around in the kitchen, I know it’s not a good time to ask. We’ll talk later. For now, all I can do is grab the two condoms she missed and toss them in the bathroom trash.
I stomp out of the bedroom door and shove my way into my leather jacket. Tess reaches the front door when I’m only a few feet behind her. Her dress, the one I ripped off, is gone. So is any and all evidence of our night.
I prowl closer, watching her shoulders tighten when she senses me behind her. She doesn’t want me next to her, but damn it all, no way am I keeping my distance when she’s this rattled. She needs me now, whether she’ll admit it or not.
She takes a breath and throws open the door. Call me crazy, but the old fart doesn’t seem happy to see me. “Who’s this?” he demands.
My brows knit tight. “I could ask you the same thing, sir.” I look at Tess, then flash him my badge. “Is he on your approved visitors list, ma’am?”
“Approved visitors list?” she repeats, slowly, realizing where I’m headed. “I apologize. I didn’t realize I’m supposed to have one. I don’t have many visitors.” She motions to her dad. “This is my father, Donald Newart.”
I lean back on my heels. She seems to think he doesn’t recognize me. I’m thinking she’s right. So I stay in cop mode, even though every part of me wants to ask him what he did to his daughter to make her this nervous. She’s twenty-four, not
some teen who snuck in her boyfriend. Yeah, I get that it’s awkward. But the way Tess is acting, the way she looks, she’s scared out of her mind. “If he visits often, you should include him on the list to prevent another incident.”
“He doesn’t visit often—”
“I can visit anytime I want,” he snaps. “I pay for this apartment.”
His reprimanding glare fixes on Tess. She stands unmoving, appearing to crawl inward. This isn’t the first time he’s spoken to her this way, and Mother above, I could tear out his spine for how he makes her react.
I can’t keep the snarl out of my tone. “Do you also pay for her utilities—water, electricity, heat?”
He raises his chin. For a skinny chicken-neck bastard he’s not afraid of me. But he should be. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I do.”
“Then can you explain why her heat was turned off a few weeks ago?”
This time his anger’s directed at me. Good, keep it there, asshole. I can take it. “It was cold enough to hang meat in here,” I tell him, keeping my voice sharp. “I had to call the super to make sure it was put back on.”
Newart doesn’t even blink. “Perhaps it was an oversight.”
My stare drills into his. “Let’s hope it was. You see, Miss Newart is helping the DA’s office with an important case. One that requires police surveillance for her protection.”
He huffs, taking her in. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then why would I be here?” I counter.
He doesn’t have an answer for that. And the longer I wait for one, the more I want to snap his scrawny neck. No, that wouldn’t piss my captain off or anything. “Ma’am, if you’re all right, and feel safe, I’ll leave now.” I look at her idiot father. “Otherwise, I’ll stay.”
She knows what I’m saying and backs away from the door, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m safe,” she assures me.
Everything in her features says she is, but it’s clear she’s not happy. Yeah, we’re going to have a long talk later. I tilt my chin. “Then the sweep of your apartment is complete. I’ll be outside if you need me.”
“Thank you,” she says.
She inches away as I pass, another thing I don’t like. If her dipshit father weren’t here, I’d wrap my arms around her and kiss her, reminding her that I’d see her tonight. Instead, we both keep our distance.
“Ma’am,” I say like a dumbass, pretending like we didn’t have sex all night.
“Goodbye, Officer.”
It’s the “Officer” that does me in. We’re long past this formal shit. I curse about a thousand times the minute the elevator doors shut, and all the way to Lu’s ride. As I reach the hood of her car, I glance up to the fifth floor, debating whether to return. But Tess doesn’t want me with her; she made that clear enough.
So instead of storming back up like I want to, I pound on my partner’s driver’s-side window.
Lu rolls it down, smiling. She keeps her focus ahead, even as she takes a sip from her bottled water. “So, her father showed,” she says.
“That he did,” I answer. I swipe my mouth. “The interior’s all clear.”
“So is the exterior.” Her shit-eatin’ grin widens. “I did a sweep about fifteen minutes ago.”
I don’t know what she thinks is so funny until she finally glances up. “By the way, excellent technique there by the window, O’Brien. You and the princess gave me some new moves to try with the old man.”
Chapter 16
Tess
“What happened to you last night?” Father demands.
His expression tightens to that look of loathing he’s often given me. The one that tells me I far exceeded his lowest expectations. I gather my robe around me and make my way into the kitchen.
He didn’t recognize Curran, but I’m not surprised. To him, Curran was an insignificant boy, one who defiled his daughter and was soon forgotten after the incident was taken care of.
I wash my hands at the sink, realizing that if Curran came from a prestigious line of well-bred tyrants, Father would have overlooked our encounter instead of strong-arming me into attending an all-women’s college the following year.
“I asked you a question, Contessa.”
I shut off the water and reach for a hand towel. “I had to leave. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Unless you were soaked with your own blood or vomiting as you once so enjoyed, you should have stayed!”
His words strike me like a slap. “How dare you,” I snap. “I never ‘enjoyed’ what I did.” My eating disorder was my one attempt at control during my high school years and partway through college. Father manipulated everything in my world. I was certain my weight would be the one thing he couldn’t touch.
I learned the hard way that he could when my stepmother realized how much weight I’d lost following the incident with Curran. I spent my summer break at an eating disorder clinic, only for him to now restrict my calories and tell me that I’m getting fat.
“This was Spencer Woodworth—Philadelphia’s next mayor!”
It’s as if I didn’t even speak. “I don’t care who he is. He’s nothing more than a perverse bastard who fondled me despite my telling him to stop. Does that mean nothing to you?”
Father’s eyes widen, but it’s not because of Spencer’s wandering hands. It’s because of my tone. “You should have stayed and played the role of the lady I raised you to be,” he responds, gritting his teeth.
There’s no reasoning with a man this cold and heartless. No thread of kindness to work with or touch to give me comfort. So instead of wasting energy I don’t have, and breaths I desperately need, I revert to lies, just as I have all my life. “I told you. I wasn’t well.”
He regards me then. “Well, you look dreadful.”
Curran didn’t think so.
I move to the dining room table, arranging my law books and scribbled notes so he’ll take the hint that I have more important things to do than be insulted.
“Is it true, what that simpleton of a police officer said?”
It’s all I can do not to fling one of my texts at his face. Five more months, I remind myself, taking a full breath. “Yes. You probably passed the officer he was replacing.”
“I meant about you assisting with an important case.”
Okay. Now I see where he’s going. “Yes. But it’s a case I can’t discuss.”
“Even with me?” he challenges, his seedy grin firmly in place.
That may work on his flunkies, but following his obnoxious remark about Curran, I’m done playing nice. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the dealings within the DA’s office.”
He expected me to tell him, and is now pissed I denied him. “At least tell me who you’re working under.”
“Declan O’Brien,” I answer, thinking I’m tossing him a meaningless bone. But when his eyes widen, I realize I made a huge mistake.
“Assistant District Attorney Declan O’Brien?” he repeats.
I close my eyes, realizing what I did, and what he’ll expect. “Yes,” I bite out.
“He’s rapidly making his way up the political and professional ladder, a rare feat considering the amount of intellect and talent under Miles Fenske’s watch.”
His voice seems to fade. My father is no longer there, too caught up in another opportunity for gain and prestige. “There’s been talk that Fenske is grooming him to take over his position when he steps down. Others insist that with his charm and astuteness, he’ll have no problem gaining momentum in the political arena.” He laughs without humor. “That is if one of the more renowned firms doesn’t acquire him first. The possibilities are endless,” he mutters.
I can see the wheels turning, and it makes me sick.
He glances up, appearing almost surprised I’m still there. But then something shifts in his gaze and he edges closer. “How well do you know him?”
“Not well,” I lie. “I’m only helping him with research—”
“Then get to know him, Contessa,” he hisses. “Are you that blind? This is a golden opportunity—being shoved directly in your face. Use it to become something of worth for once.”
I shove my hands deep into my pockets when I realize how badly they’re trembling. “I’m trying, Father. Don’t you think I know that this can lead to job opportunities I’ve only dreamed of—”
“Job opportunities?” he scoffs, eyeing me with enough scorn to force me back. “Don’t think you’re better than what you’re intended to be.”
A strange chill encircles me like a ribbon, making its way up my throat. “Which is what?”
My whip-sharp tone does nothing to ease the escalating strain between us. If there weren’t a counter separating us then, I think he would have lunged at me. “Stupidity isn’t an attractive quality on you, Contessa,” he says, dripping venom into each word. “Not if you ever stand a chance at becoming a governor’s wife.”
Curran
My phone buzzes an hour after Newart leaves. It’s a text from Tess.
I’m not going to be able to see you tonight.
I stare at the message for a beat. This time, I’m not backing down or letting her off easy. I text back, Why?
There’s a pause as she works through the numbers of the old cellphone.
I have a lot of work to do. I have three exams this week and still have some research pending on the Montenegro case.
I groan before responding. So do it now while I’m out here freezing my ass off. That way, when I’m off, we can grab a bite to eat.
It’s not a good idea, she writes back.
You thought it was a good idea this morning, I point out.
Her next response takes longer than it should, considering how short it is.
I’m sorry, but I’m too busy.
I start to get mad, real mad. But I do my best to keep my head. So you don’t eat when you’re working? I fire back.
When she doesn’t answer, I send her another text. We’ll get something to eat like we planned, and then I’ll bring you back to your place afterward. I don’t have to spend the night.
