Deadly Seduction (New York State Trooper Series Book 6)

by Jen Talty

  “You really have shitty taste in men.”

  “That, I do,” she agreed. “About a week later, I went to Planned Parenthood because it burned so bad. I was terrified I had some sexually transmitted disease or something.”

  “Did you tell the doctor about the pain during sex?”

  “No,” she said. “I figured it was the reason it hurt so bad, considering how that exam felt, but I guess it stuck with me my entire life, and part of the reason I’ve always waited until I really knew someone, so I would feel more relaxed, and then perhaps I could get there. It almost happened a few times.”

  Josh traced his forefinger across her bruised cheek before he leaned in and tenderly kissed her lips. He slid his arm under the top sleeping bag, resting his hand on her stomach as he deepened the kiss. He had a way of melting away all her concerns, replacing it with a sense of confidence.

  When she wrapped her arms around his thick shoulders, she had every intention of yanking his body on top of her until she felt the scar on the back of his shoulder, where a bullet had torn completely through his body. She cupped his face, ripping their mouths apart.

  “What?” He blinked a few times.

  She tapped his shoulder. “Tell me about these,” she demanded.

  He groaned, rolling to his back. “Wouldn’t you rather hear about my first time?”

  She tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder, palmed the scars on his side. “I’m sure it was wonderful for you.”

  He laughed, his fingers dancing up and down her bare arm, sending warmth across her skin. “Actually, it was pretty pathetic. I was clueless about the female body and might have lasted a whole two minutes. My girlfriend was quite disappointed and dumped me the next day.”

  “You’re either teasing me, or you have shitty taste in women.”

  “Definitely the latter,” he said, shifting to his side and pressing his body against hers. “I’ve learned a thing or two since then.”

  She smiled. “I’d say more than two, but you’re changing the subject, and I want to know about the person who shot you.”

  “There is a big difference between the girl I met at the Boardwalk and the woman in my arms right now.”

  She kissed his chest. “That has nothing to do with—”

  “I’ll tell you what happened in a minute.” He held her tight. “I want you to know you’re much more confident now. I’m guessing—or maybe hoping—it’s because you no longer have secrets you’re trying to keep from me.”

  “No secrets.” She could understand why he continued to bring it up, but it only reminded her that he’d never be able to forget.

  “You’re still a little on the innocent side, but stronger. I like this woman better.”

  “Good line. Now, tell me who shot you and how it’s tied into Craypo, Kirk, and my brother.”

  “The last woman I was sleeping with pumped five bullets in me.”

  “What?”

  “Told you I had bad taste—”

  “Why would she shoot you, and what does she have to do with Craypo?”

  “She was Craypo’s wife.”

  Delaney blinked a few times before scrambling to a sitting position. She stared at Josh, who stayed on his back, one hand behind his head, the other fingering the scar on his shoulder.

  “I’m not such a Boy Scout after all, am I?”

  “I’m… I…I…have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “How did you end up with his wife?”

  “I was working undercover inside Craypo’s organization, trying to gather as much incriminating evidence as I could, but it was difficult.” His inflection went flat and distant.

  “So, you slept with her to get information?” She cringed. The question sounded worse than what she’d meant.

  “No.” He turned his head away and let out a dry laugh. “About six months into the operation, when I was finally in the inner circle, I found out a large shipment of illegal weapons was ready to go out and thought I’d finally get what I needed to bring down Craypo. There was a charity event that Craypo and his family ran every year, and that’s where the first meeting was supposed to take place. Craypo asked me to escort Nicole because he was going to be late. In the limo, I got a tip from an informant that the buyers weren’t going to show and that they had planted a bomb in the venue, hoping to take out Craypo. As much as I would have liked that, I couldn’t let innocent people die.” He continued to look in the other direction, at the side of tent, hand over his shoulder.

  “So, what did you do?” Tentatively, she placed her hand over his palm, lacing her fingers through his. He didn’t twitch or brush her away, but the Josh she knew was no longer in the tent with her, trapped instead in an old memory.

  “I told the limo driver to take Nicole and her kids home because I’d heard there could be trouble.”

  “Children?”

  “Two little boys,” he said softly, the emotion seeping back into his voice. “She argued with me, but I got out and slammed the door, racing toward the entrance, assuming the driver would do as I told him. Before they left, Nicole got a good look at me talking with a few uniformed cops. She put two and two together, and the next day, when the story broke, she confronted me.”

  “I take it the bomb didn’t go off, right?” Delaney asked as she let out a long breath in a whoosh.

  “No, but now I had a different problem, and I figured I was a dead man walking until Nicole said she’d keep my secret if I would help her and her boys leave Craypo.” Josh looked at Delaney. His forehead wrinkled, and his green eyes changed from light to dark. “She told me that Craypo beat her and the boys.”

  “That’s certainly believable, based on what you’ve told me about Craypo.”

  “Believable, but not true. I let her seduce me. I let myself fall a little in love with her and those boys. She gave me all sorts of incriminating evidence on Craypo. I had so much that a month before she shot me, I could have walked, and it would have been enough…but I didn’t. I wanted to save her and the boys, and I wanted to ride off into the sunset with them.”

  Delaney reached out with her free hand and cupped Josh’s face, her thumb fanning the soft skin just under his eye. “When did she shoot you, and why?”

  “I had an exit plan for her all set up, but she called me one day, saying she needed to talk to me. That she needed out sooner. That Craypo was on to us. I told her to come to my apartment with the boys, and we’d work it out. I met her in the parking garage, with my car loaded with all the evidence she’d helped me collect. She got her boys—”

  “They were with her?” Delaney leaned over and kissed one of the scars on his arm. His hand came across the back of her head, his fingers running through the strands.

  “Her boys stood in front of my car. I thought she was ready to leave, but instead, she pulled a gun on me. I reacted and went for cover, but not before she fired twice.” He lowered the top sleeping bag, placing Delaney’s hand over the two scars on his side. “I got a shot off, but I missed and hit the back tire of her car. She fired three more times.” He tapped his skin where each bullet had ripped through his body.

  Delaney followed his motions, letting her fingers linger over the damaged skin, sensing the physical torture he’d endured along with the emotional blackmail that he’d suffered at the hands of the woman who shot him.

  “She got my keys out of my pocket and got in my car while I tried to stay awake long enough to get my phone and call it in. As I lay there, bleeding out, I heard the bomb that had been planted in my car go off.”

  “Oh, my God!” Delaney snuggled up against him, kissing his neck and shoulders. “That’s horrible.” She held him as tight as she could, wanting to absorb all the pain. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, but then cocked her head back. “Why on earth would you believe me—help me—after what I did to you, considering everything that deplorable woman did?”

  “Her boys didn’t deserve to die,” he s
aid calmly. “And neither do you.”

  “I’ve never thanked you for saving my life.”

  “It’s not necessary to say.” His hand slipped under her shirt, warming her back, his fingers tickling her spine, sending messages to every sensitive spot on her body. “There are two other reasons why I believe you and want to protect you.”

  “What are they?”

  “You owned up to what you did the moment those men hurt you.”

  “No point in lying about it after that jerk hit me or your friend showed up with pictures of my asshole brother doing just fine.” She traced a path across his lips with her index finger. “What’s the other reason?”

  “You’re really damn good in bed.”

  Before she had a chance to say anything, he’d rolled over on top of her and shoved his hot tongue deep inside her mouth with urgent fury. His knees separated her legs as he settled between them. Moist heat slid from her immediately. The way he kissed her with such force and desire empowered her, making her ache to touch every single inch of him. To feel how he would respond to her touch.

  She squirmed, holding him tight, but pushing him to his side at the same time. She wanted to make him feel exactly how she felt when he gave her pleasure. To see the expressions on his face when she touched him.

  Once she was on top of him, she kissed his neck and shoulders, running her tongue across his muscular chest as she eased her way lower, grazing his nipple with her teeth.

  He hissed. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to find out what pleases you.”

  “I can tell you…whoa.”

  She ran her hand up his thigh, cupping him over his boxers. “I want to find out for myself.”

  “That’s a good place to start.” His response came in a throaty pant. “But you don’t have to do that if you don’t like it or want to.”

  “Do you like this?” There hadn’t been a single time she could think of when she had initiated intimate contact. The men she’d known had always moved her hand there, or asked her, or even pushed her head toward their erections. She wasn’t opposed to doing it, but she didn’t feel comfortable—no, she didn’t feel confident—and until now, the thought of it did nothing for her sexually. Now, she wanted to caress him. Hear him moan with deep desire. This time it was all about him and what he wanted in a lover. But at the same time, this was her way of taking back her life. Her sexuality.

  As she lowered his boxers, taking the length of him in her hands, studying the beauty of him, her panties moisten as she throbbed to be touched in return.

  She could wait.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Will you help me?”

  “Excuse me?” he asked with a high-pitched voice.

  “Show me, like I did with you.”

  His head hit the with a resounding thud against the wooden deck underneath the pitched tent. “I’ve never done that before in front of anyone.”

  “Neither had I.”

  “You’re killing me,” he ground out.

  She watched in awe as he stroked himself, his hand going up and down, occasionally stopping at the top, his thumb gliding over the head. She never dreamt or fantasized about watching a man pleasure himself, but it was one of the most sensual things she’d ever seen. Placing her hand over his, she moved with him, until he slipped his hand over hers, guiding her to grip him tighter.

  “Would you like me to use my mouth?”

  “You really have to ask?” He looked up at her with wide, laden eyes.

  She stopped moving her hand and cocked her head. She had to hear him say it.

  “Yes. I would like that.”

  She bent over, holding the base in her hand as she darted her tongue out, licking his head, listening to his guttural moans and feeling his muscles flex and his body tense under her caress. She gauged her movements based on the way he breathed. He held her head, brushing her hair out of the way, but not once did he push her further down on him or try to shove himself deeper.

  “Delaney.” Her name sounded more like a long breath. “You’ve got to stop.”

  “Why?” She looked up at him, licking her lips, tasting him. “Don’t you like it?” For a brief moment, she wondered if she’d done it all wrong.

  “I love it, but I’m going to come if you put your mouth on me again.”

  “What if I want you to? Would you like it?”

  “I think I’ll like anything you want to do to me, but I can’t rebound like you. It could take a while… Jesus…”

  She covered him with her mouth, taking as much of him as she could, before gliding her mouth back to the top and running her fingers across the tip.

  She repeated the motions a few times, listening to him hiss until he stiffened.

  “Delaney.” His climax spilled out into her mouth and hands. He tasted like a warm, salted Margarita, only slightly more bitter. She continued to stroke and lap him until he stopped her.

  “I was having fun.”

  “Too sensitive right after.” He leaned up on one elbow, looping his other hand behind her neck, drawing her closer. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

  He didn’t have to ask her twice.

  She wanted to devour him, but he forced the kiss to be slow and sweet until he pulled away. “Do me a favor,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Take off all your clothes and climb under the covers so I can pleasure you. I’m hoping I can actually rebound and—”

  “We could stop right now, and I’d be thoroughly satisfied.”

  He growled. “I wouldn’t. Not until I feel you quiver and shake while calling out my name.”

  “Well, when you put it that way...” She rushed to removed what little clothing she wore then tucked her back up against his chest. “We do have protection, don’t we?”

  “I did think to pack some,” he said, reaching his arm around her body, tucking his legs behind hers, and pressing himself against her ass. He gently pinched her nipples, rolling them around between his fingers. He sucked on her earlobe while he brushed his fingers across her intimately.

  She raised her arm, looping it over his shoulder. Her body skin tingled with heat. She needed him just one last time. Rolling her hips against him, press built against her ass. “I thought you said it would take a while.”

  “I think my rebound time just broke a world record.”

  “You know what I want?”

  “Tell me.”

  She draped her leg over his, pressing herself against him. “I want you inside me now.”

  “That can be arranged.” He reached over his head, rummaging through his bag, his other hand still caressing her breast, teasing her with a promise of what was to come. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “No, We do this how you want it.”

  “I want everything with you,” he whispered in her ear as he entered her, inch by agonizing inch.

  She held the forearm he had wrapped around her chest while his other hand rubbed her in slow, torturous circles.

  “You want me to go faster?”

  “I want whatever you want.” She chomped down on her lip as she resisted the urge to grind herself against him in quick thrusts, her body on the verge, ready to scream out his name, but each time she was almost there, he nearly stopped moving.

  “I’m making you crazy.”

  “You’re making us both nuts,” she said with a choppy breath.

  “That’s true.” He rammed himself into her.

  She gripped his arm with one hand while reaching around and clutching at his neck with the other, grinding herself against him.

  But then he pulled all the way out, leaving her cold and empty. “Why’d you…”

  He thrust himself deep again, groaning in her ear.

  “Oh…God…”

  He held her leg, rocking his body, whispering her name.

  “Josh...” Her body quivered as he plunged himself deep inside.

  “Beautiful Delaney…” he nibbled her e
ar as he exploded inside her with such force, another wave of pleasure sizzled across her skin.

  Slowly, they continued to rock together until she relaxed in his arms, exhausted and exhilarated, just like when she’d jumped off the cliffs.

  “You know, there are few reasons I’m staying with you, letting you protect me,” she said between heaving breaths.

  “Yeah. What are they?” he asked.

  “I feel safe with you.”

  “What else?”

  “You’re damn good in bed,” she whispered.

  Chapter 9

  “Are you ready?” Josh yelled from the boat. The morning sun had yet to take the chill off the cold night. He scanned the empty campsite, looking past the trees, just behind the tent platform, toward the outhouse. The door swung open, and she stepped out, plugging her nose. At least she’d stopped complaining about. He smiled. Everything about her was perfect. Everything except how they had met, and that still troubled him, something he wished he could forget.

  He’d spent a year with Craypo, and Josh knew better than anyone the lengths at which that man would go to seek revenge. Josh once saw Craypo fondle a teenager in front of her father because he’d been late on his payment, and Craypo wanted to watch the man squirm because he could.

  Delaney might have been the pawn, but now that she’d failed, Craypo would want revenge. The question was, how? Craypo liked to go for the jugular. He knew Josh had honored his father’s memory by following in his footsteps. After Josh lost his mother, his career became the only connection he had with both his parents.

  Craypo thought he could exploit that.

  So, what was Delaney’s blind spot, if it wasn’t her brother?

  “Where are we going again?” She tugged at the bow rope, unlooping it from the post. He was about to help, but enjoyed this independent, stronger side.

  “Jake owns a little cabin on Long Lake.”

  “Does it have indoor plumbing?”

  “Yes.” He patted the driver’s seat. “Let me teach you how to drive.”

  “Okay.” She took the helm.

  He had expected her to say no, but once again, she surprised him. He stood behind her, pushing the throttle into reverse and guiding the boat from the dock, before putting the boat in neutral when they were a safe distance from the shore. “Just ease into gear, and head toward the channel.”