by Virna DePaul
Jed smirked. “I’ve been there. Several times. After she wrote that article about Hoyt, he wanted me to pay her a little visit. Go through her stuff. You might say I’ve gotten to know Claire Fullerton quite intimately in many ways, including what fascinates her the most.”
Next to him, Claire took a step forward. “You’ve been in my house? Gone through my stuff? You bastard!”
“Claire,” Ty clipped out. He urged her behind him again. “Not now.” Although she shifted restlessly next to him, she quieted when he asked, “What is it, exactly, that fascinates her?”
“Don’t you know? Officer.”
Somehow he wasn’t surprised. Ty scanned the area for an ambush. Jed shook his head. “I’m alone.”
“Ty—” Claire began.
Once again, Ty pressed her behind him. She resisted slightly and he cursed, knowing that if he told her to run, she probably wouldn’t. Because she wouldn’t want to leave him alone and risk him being hurt.
“So what now?” Ty asked.
Cocking a brow, Jed smiled. “What now? You mean, you don’t know?”
“Enlighten me.”
Jed shrugged. “Sure.” He stepped closer until only a few feet separated them. “Now I want you to return the favor.”
“What favor?”
“Several favors, actually. One, I haven’t blown the whistle on you. Two, I got the two of you back together again.”
Yes, but why? “What do you want? Money? Drugs? Immunity?”
Jed’s face grew silent and serious. His gaze narrowed, and his mouth flattened into a grim line. “I want Brad Hoyt to stay in jail. I want him ousted as the leader of the Demon Guardians. And I want you to make sure that happens.”
So Ty’s instincts about Jed had been right after all. He fought the temptation to relax. He couldn’t. Not yet. Not until Claire was safe. “Why?”
“When you first showed up here, you asked about Paul Hathaway. It caught my attention,” Jed said.
“Why?”
“Let’s just say I was quite … disturbed when I heard what Hoyt had done to him, cop or not.”
Something about Jed’s tone made Ty want to dig deeper, while at the same time he didn’t want to cause the man any more pain. Instinctively, he knew that’s what digging deeper would do. But it was obvious Jed was speaking the truth. Paul had meant something to both of them and that just might be enough to give them the advantage against Hoyt. “So Hoyt … You going to be the one who helps bring him down? And if so, why not just come to me a long time ago? Why all the game-playing?”
“I needed Hoyt away from here. It was sheer luck he got picked up in that raid, but his lawyer’s already working on his release. As for why I waited until this weekend to say something? First, I needed to make sure you were willing to go all the way when it came to being initiated. If you weren’t, then you weren’t someone I was going to rely on. Not for something as important as avenging Paul. Second?” He smirked. “When I saw Ms. Fullerton hanging around, I knew she’d truly test how far you’d be willing to go to maintain your cover.” His gaze shifted to Claire. “He was willing to go pretty far,” he taunted, “wasn’t he? So far that I’ve now got you both on tape, admitting your prior relationship.”
Ty visibly jerked, causing Jed to laugh.
“That’s right. You might’ve swept the room for bugs, but you didn’t sweep her. I planted a listening device on her and recorded the transmission. Easy listening, I tell you, but I won’t share it with Hoyt or anyone else unless you give me reason to.”
Beside Ty, Claire winced and he couldn’t stop the low growl that erupted from his throat. “I can’t promise you immunity,” he gritted out.
“Not what I’m asking for. So long as you play fair and do everything you can to bring Hoyt down, it’ll stay our little secret. I can’t promise I won’t take it out now and then though. You two are pretty … stimulating.”
Before either one of them could respond, Jed turned and walked away. At the corner of the building, he looked over his shoulder. “You can thank me later, by the way.”
With that, he was gone.
It took a minute before Ty’s muscles began to loosen. When Jed didn’t return, he looked at Claire and lifted his hands to rub her arms. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “You?”
“I’m okay now.” He ran his hands lightly over her shirt until he found the minuscule transmitter Jed had planted on the back of her right shoulder. Ty cursed and crushed it beneath one shoe. “Let’s get out of here.”
They climbed into his Jeep. Soon they were on the main road and heading for Claire’s place. As the wind whipped their hair around, Ty glanced at Claire, who had her head tilted back against the seat. He reached out, took her hand, and squeezed it. She returned the gesture. “So are you going to tell me?” he asked.
She studied their joined hands before sighing. “You want to know what he saw in my house to connect me with you? How he knew you fascinated me?” She tentatively peeked up at him, and he smiled reassuringly.
“Did he see the picture of us together?” They’d posed for only one picture, when they’d gone into the city and walked the water by the Bay Bridge. He’d asked a woman to snap the picture with Claire’s camera and the notion that she’d kept it close to her pleased him. Of course, given her previous coverage of the Guardians, he probably shouldn’t have had the picture taken, for the very reason that it connected the two of them. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that one of the Guardians might break into her home, but he supposed it was just another example of how being with Claire fried his brain.
To his surprise, Claire shook her head. “It wasn’t a picture he saw. At least I don’t think so. It was probably something I had—I had up on my refrigerator.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Your first name on a piece of paper. Along with a drawing. A replica of your tattoo. The one on your right biceps.”
“My Celtic knot?” Sure, the symbol was distinctive enough for Jed to recognize, especially with his name on the same piece of paper. But why …?
“It’s silly, I know, but after you left, I missed you. I—I wanted part of you with me, and I thought, well, if I replicated part of you on me, we’d always be together. And I like the design. It’s pretty.” She lifted her chin, as if defying him to laugh or make fun of her.
That was the last thing he wanted to do. He lifted his hand from hers and gripped the steering wheel tightly. He was overcome by an emotion that threatened to blindside him, so he slowed the Jeep and pulled over to the side of the road.
She watched him with obvious trepidation. “Ty? Are you mad?”
His answer was to pull her into his arms and kiss her. It wasn’t enough. Hands shaking, he unbuttoned her shirt and rubbed her breasts, relishing her gasps and moans. Then, acting with near desperation, he stripped her the rest of the way, freed his cock from his pants, then lifted her onto his lap. It was awkward and a tight fit given the confines of the car, even after he threw his seat as far back as it could go. The steering wheel was probably digging into her. But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. He needed her. Needed to be in her. Needed to—
“Ty!” She screamed when he pulled her down at the same time he thrust his hips upward, his dick going deep. Penetration instantly calmed him. Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and simply held her.
Hesitantly, her hands lifted to stroke his hair and she made soothing noises. It was because he was shaking, he realized. His entire body was vibrating like a divining rod. “Just give me a minute. I need a minute,” he gasped.
“It’s okay. I’m here. We have more than a minute. Far more than a minute.”
He pulled back, wanting there to be no misunderstandings this time. “I want forever. And I want you to get that tattoo. So when I can’t be with you, I still will be. Just like you said.”
“Yes,” she softly answered, her eyes filling with tears. “To both. To t
he tattoo. And to forever. But I warn you, it’s going to be tough keeping up with me. I really am both good and bad. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
He bounced her on top of him, and the friction of his dick within the warm, humid walls of her body made them both breathless. So he kept on doing it. And even after he’d hurled her into an explosive release, even after he’d spent himself inside her, he was still hard. She laughed and so did he, the combined sounds filled with joy.
“I guess that answers my question,” she said. “Now kiss me and do me again.”
“Gladly, baby girl. Gladly.”
COP APPEAL
People used to call her Sure-Thing-Sarah, but the only thing Sarah Larson’s sure about these days is the torch she’s carried for undercover cop Luke Anderson. Four years ago, Sarah made the biggest mistake of her life: leaving Luke to marry another cop. Now, a year after her divorce, Luke’s back in her life—ready to convince Sarah that he’s the one when it comes to love. But Sarah has a big fear—that her dangerously possessive ex-husband is out to make sure that her second chance at happiness is destroyed forever.
CHAPTER ONE
Sarah Larson hadn’t seen Luke Anderson in four years, yet her day ended the way it always did—with him inside her.
She took him every way imaginable, savoring each hot inch.
She gloried in how full he made her feel—not just her body, but her soul, too.
As if she’d never hunger, never despair, never want for anything again.
As if she’d never feel more replete or complete than when she was in his arms.
“Luke,” she whispered, then released a prolonged moan as she gyrated her hips, moving his shaft in and out of her so it dragged against the sensitive, clenching walls of her core. Her natural lube made his thrust and retreat silky smooth, but even so, the pleasure was intense enough that it carried a bite of pain.
She matched the sensation by pinching one nipple, then she dragged her nail across it. Her clit, plumped with blood and demanding attention, throbbed as she rubbed the tip of his dick against it, then throbbed some more when he abandoned the sweet spot to shove himself fully inside her again.
“Yes, yes,” she chanted. “Fuck me, Luke. Fuck me hard.”
Inflamed by her frenzied commands, he powered in and out of her. His flesh slapped against hers in a steady rhythm, harmonizing with the squishy sounds of moist arousal and her jagged gasps of mounting pleasure.
Time and again, he rubbed the area of her body that made her fling back her head and throw out her hands to clench at the sheets beneath her. The pressure inside her grew and grew and grew …
She yearned for satisfaction. She reached for it. She strained to find the release that would drain her of all worry and thought, even if it would only be temporary.
But this time, just as it had for weeks now, satisfaction eluded her.
Dragging her eyes open, Sarah blinked rapidly until the drab décor of her cheap motel room came into focus. Of course Luke was nowhere to be seen. She was alone—alone except for her useless vibrator.
She’d always been able to achieve climax when she fantasized about Luke in the past. Always. Two things seemed to have changed that. First, the recent news that Luke had returned to Palm Springs for a family visit; now that her mind knew he was so near, her body was no longer willing to settle for second best. Second, it was admittedly difficult to lose herself in one man’s arms, even if they weren’t real, when another man—her ex-husband—was watching her. Threatening her. Stalking her.
Ironically, she’d met Richard because of Luke; they’d been cops in the same precinct together. He’d seemed nice; attractive and charming and far less overwhelming than Luke. Blue-collar background. Just less … complicated overall. Less to live up to.
Soon after their honeymoon, Richard had shown his true colors. He had a violent temper. A filthy mouth. A cruel streak. She’d rightfully been wary of him. On edge. Waiting for him to blow and show her that Jekyll and Hyde personality of his again. After the divorce, as if he hadn’t already been psycho enough, he’d clearly lost a few more screws. He’d proven himself to be a serious threat two weeks ago when he’d pushed her down in the parking lot of the supermarket. Of course, he’d made sure there weren’t any witnesses. And he’d been upping the ante ever since.
Three days ago, she’d found a note underneath her front door mat. Richard hadn’t bothered to disguise his handwriting.
I’m coming for you, Sarah. Soon. Nothing you say or do, and no one you ask for help, can stop me. In fact, they’ll just suffer for it. You’re mine, till death do we part.
Sarah had been so scared that she’d actually fled her home for the sterility of this hotel room in a strange city, hopeful that Richard would never find her. She’d left everything behind but the basics, her memories, and the toy buried between her thighs. And for what? The fear hadn’t subsided. More than ever, she’d pined for Luke, calling herself every kind of fool for choosing Richard over him. She couldn’t even console herself that Luke still loved her because according to their mutual friend Meredith, he hadn’t even bothered to ask about her while he was in town.
With a frustrated cry, Sarah withdrew her “Luke substitute,” a thick, blue latex dildo, from her body and flung it across the room. “Damn you,” she shouted. “Damn you both!”
Curling into a ball, she hugged her knees to her chest and struggled to catch a breath. “Damn me,” she murmured.
She shouldn’t have run. She should have reported Richard to the police. Should have stood her ground. At the very least, she should have confided in her friends about Richard’s freaky behavior, but she’d been too embarrassed to reveal exactly how foolish she’d been to marry him.
She’d just have to suck it up. In the morning, she’d drive home, and her first stop would be the police department.
Her decision had nothing to do with Luke’s return, she assured herself. She didn’t even know how long he’d be in town. Most importantly, the man was just as likely to throw her to the wolves as protect her.
But maybe, just maybe, she’d catch a brief glimpse of the only man she’d ever loved. After all the heartache she’d been through, she felt she deserved that much.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and pictured Luke as he’d been the last time they’d really made love—he’d been twenty-six to her twenty-eight, with slightly long sandy brown hair, pale blue eyes fringed with the thickest lashes she’d ever seen on a man, his starched navy patrol officer’s uniform parting to reveal rippling abs and bulging muscles. She’d spent months loving her “younger” man, so she tried to muster some indignation that he hadn’t even asked about her when he’d run into her best friend, Meredith. Of course, Meredith had volunteered a whole lot of information about Sarah anyway, mainly about her modified marital status. Not that it had seemed to matter.
Luke had clearly moved on. She had to do the same.
Her efforts at distraction—to feel pleasure rather than fear—were useless.
Nothing, not her favorite toy, not even her memories of Luke, could help her forget the danger she was in or how big a fool she truly was.
CHAPTER TWO
Several days later …
Luke hadn’t been back to Palm Springs in four years. Not since Sarah Larson had broken his heart. Not since he’d begun volunteering for every dangerous undercover op he could. Not since he’d decided life wasn’t worth playing it safe.
Now?
He’d heard Sarah had been divorced for almost a year, and hadn’t had a man in her bed since.
That was about to change.
The look in her eyes told him she knew it. So did the way she tried to shut her door in his face.
His hand shot out, slamming against the wood to stop it from closing. Through the opening, her gaze flickered over his shoulder, no doubt taking in the black leather seat and gleaming curves of his favorite motorcycle. It was a far cry from the shiny Mustang he used to drive before he’d
left. Less show and more muscle. Not exactly something the sole heir to his father’s flourishing textile business was expected to be driving. That just made him like it more.
Luke had returned to Palm Springs despite Sarah, not because of her. He’d been fresh off a lengthy undercover assignment with the Demon Guardians, a notorious biker gang that had been terrorizing Northern California, when his socialite mother had called him, begging him to visit his father before it was too late. She’d made it sound like his father’s health had deteriorated in the six months since they’d all met in London. As it turned out, his father had never been better. Luke hadn’t confronted his mother about her deception but he hadn’t been planning on sticking around either. Then he’d run into Meredith Pierce. After an earful from her on Sarah’s single status, he’d promptly gone home and given his aristocratic, proper mother a hug that had lifted her off her feet. It was thanks to her, after all, that he was paying Sarah a visit today.
Her pale green eyes, which never failed to take his breath away, narrowed. “What do you want, Luke?”
“Want?” All kinds of visions popped in his head. Sarah on her knees with his dick in her mouth. Sarah splayed under him, her legs ratcheted up and wide by his arms, her neatly trimmed, golden pubic curls glistening with her pussy juice as he worked his thick length inside her. The lush, pale globes of her ass jiggling as he thrust into her from behind—one hand in her hair and tugging her head back while he sprinkled kisses along her spine. She’d had several lovers by the time they’d met, but she’d still been amazingly inexperienced in carnal matters. He’d put an end to that really fast, and she’d been an eager pupil. The memories of all their lessons caused his voice to deepen to a growl when he spoke again. “What makes you think I want something?”
Her eyes widened slightly, probably because she registered the arousal edging his words. Just as he suspected she would, she ignored it. For all her eagerness in the beginning, Sarah had turned out to be a bit of a coward when it came to truly pushing boundaries. Too bad for her he was back and intended to push them harder than ever.
