Bulletproof

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Bulletproof Page 12

by Maggie Cummings


  “Fuck. It’s one fifteen. I totally passed out.”

  Briana turned to her and rested her head on her chest. “I fell asleep too.”

  “That makes me feel less bad.” She draped an arm across Briana’s back and hugged her close.

  “I should go home,” Briana said with a sigh.

  “It’s the middle of the night and it’s cold out.” Dylan kissed the top of her head. “You should stay. You know I’ll walk you, though, if you want,” she said, editing on the spot. She didn’t want Briana to leave, but she also didn’t want her to feel trapped.

  “I don’t want you to feel suffocated,” Briana said. She snuggled the tiniest bit closer. “But your bed is amazing. I really don’t feel like moving.”

  Dylan kissed her forehead and her lips, happy that it was settled. “Maybe you should shoot Stef a text so she knows you haven’t been abducted.” She laughed at her own dark humor. “Do you two do that? Check in on each other?”

  “We do, kind of.” Briana traced the outline of her St. Michael pendant as she spoke. “We don’t have a set system in place, but we do keep tabs to make sure everything is okay.” She reached for her phone on the nightstand and read through a series of texts.

  “She’s not home.”

  Dylan nodded. “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, definitely. She’s seeing someone new. A friend of mine.”

  “That’s good? We like this person?”

  “We do.” She sat up and thumbed out a quick message. “Sorry, I’m just letting her know I’m out for the night also. There,” she said. “All present and accounted for.”

  “Out of curiosity, did you tell her where you were?”

  Briana smiled. “I didn’t. But only because she’s either asleep or will have a million questions.” She scrunched her nose. “I’d rather handle that interrogation in person, quite frankly.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Briana stretched out next to her, and Dylan took the opportunity to appreciate her gorgeous body. She traced her outline from temple to hip. “You’re beautiful.” She saw her nipples harden. “Are you cold?”

  “Not really.”

  “Do you want a shirt or something?”

  “It’s embarrassing.”

  “What is?”

  “You look at me and my nipples get hard. It happens all the time. At work. At that fundraiser. Even at the basketball game that first day.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Briana looked bashful and adorable when she nodded in confirmation. “That has never happened to me before.”

  “Well, that’s fucking hot.”

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you, because you clearly do not need an ego boost.” She shrugged, seeming to give in to the moment. “You do have an effect on me, Dylan Prescott.”

  Dylan leaned forward and kissed her softly. “Just because there’s no physical evidence, don’t go thinking you’re not making an impact on me.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I’m pretty sure we’re both doomed.”

  Briana turned on her side and baby spooned into Dylan. “Let’s go to sleep. At least we’ll be well rested when our lives fall apart.”

  “I knew you were the smart one,” Dylan said, fully nuzzling as she let everything go, ready to drift into dreamland.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Is that fresh coffee?”

  Briana had put on a T-shirt and old sweats that Dylan left folded on the edge of the bed. They were swimming on her, but she was grateful for both the gesture and having something to substitute for yesterday’s skirt and blouse.

  “Good morning.” Dylan looked up from her iPad. “Did you sleep okay?”

  Briana smiled and nodded in response. She had slept like a freaking baby. It was unusual because she usually hated not sleeping in her own apartment. But then, everything about last night was unpredictably divine. The conversation was easy, the bed cozy, the sex phenomenal.

  “Thank you for the clothes,” she said, pulling on the hem of the navy-blue shirt to look at the white NYPD lettering.

  Dylan came around from the counter and kissed her. It was sweet and unexpected and made her melt just the tiniest bit. “My clothes are gigantic on you. But you look cute.” She shrugged. “I thought you might not want to put on work clothes again.”

  “It was sweet. You’re sweet,” she said, not bothering to filter.

  “You sound surprised by that,” Dylan said with a laugh. “I think I should be offended.”

  She rubbed Dylan’s abs over her soft sweatshirt. “I guess I am,” she said honestly. “You’re smart. You’re sexy.” She placed a kiss on Dylan’s chest. “You’re the neighborhood stud. I guess I didn’t expect sweet too.”

  It was kind of a backhanded compliment, but it was out before she could massage it. Dylan seemed to take it in stride.

  “Thank you?” Dylan said with a slight chuckle as she stepped away and reached for two coffee mugs. “I don’t have skim milk. Is two percent okay?”

  “Of course.” Briana nodded at the news app still open on the tablet. “What’s going on in the world? Anything exciting?”

  “Nothing good, that’s for sure.” Dylan poured their coffees. “Are you hungry? I have fruit and yogurt. I could make toast, if you want.”

  “I can’t eat first thing in the morning. Thank you, though.” She reached for the sweetener and prepped her coffee. She sat on a stool and watched Dylan move around the kitchen. Dylan fixed her coffee, and Briana shook her head at the ridiculous amount of half-and-half she put in.

  “Is there even any coffee in that mug?” she teased.

  “Says the woman who drinks crème brûlée.”

  “You drink it too,” she chided.

  Dylan’s look confirmed what Briana had always suspected. Dylan would have preferred a real cup of coffee most days. She opted for the flavored Keurig solely to be with her.

  “I was thinking.” Briana touched the smooth granite countertop with one finger, a little nervous over what she was about to suggest.

  “What’s up?” Dylan asked over her shoulder as she reached for some mixed berries from the fridge.

  Damn, she was hot. Even zipping around her kitchen with bedhead and glasses on, in a hoodie and PJ pants. Seeing this semi-vulnerable side of the smooth detective who was always so squared away gave her a chill she didn’t quite expect. Dylan popped a blueberry and touched her hand. “What is it? What were you thinking?”

  “New rules,” she blurted.

  “Okay, I’m listening.” Dylan shook the small ceramic bowl and picked out a strawberry.

  Briana liked the way Dylan looked so serious and committed even though she didn’t know what was coming. It didn’t hurt that Dylan held her hand and gave it the smallest squeeze of encouragement.

  “The thing is,” she started, “I still believe everything we discussed.” She sipped her coffee and dug deep for her words. “The reasons we shouldn’t act on what we feel. Professionalism, respect, our careers. All of those things still ring true for me.”

  “I know.”

  “But we obviously both want this right now. At least I do,” she said, putting her emotions on the line.

  “I do too, Bri.”

  The shortened name. It was a familiarity that hit her right in the gut. Coupled with Dylan’s soft smile that affirmed they were a hundred percent in this together. It sent her off the deep end in the best possible way.

  “That’s one of the things I liked about you from the very first time we met.” She channeled bluntness to echo her point. “When we met the day of the basketball game, I told you I wasn’t looking for a relationship.”

  “I remember.”

  “You didn’t dismiss me. Or try to convince me otherwise.”

  “I actually agreed with you.”

  “Exactly.” She gripped the warm mug with both hands. “We’re on the same page as far as priorities are concerned. It’s almost irresponsibl
e to ignore that.”

  “That’s what you liked about me? My priorities?”

  Briana lifted her coffee to hide her expression. “Eh, you’re not hard to look at.”

  Dylan pumped her fist in faux celebration.

  Briana shook her head and laughed. Dylan was more than she expected in so many ways. Funny. Smart. Playful. The depth of her personality was a fantastic surprise.

  “What I’m trying to get at”—she reached for Dylan’s hand—“is that what we’ve stumbled into might be perfect.” Briana hoped her thought process didn’t sound premeditated. She traced the lines on Dylan’s palm.

  “A nonlabeled but exclusive arrangement while we work on cracking the most important case of our lives. Is that what you mean?”

  Briana laughed at Dylan’s description even though it was on the money.

  “You made a point last night.” Briana brought Dylan’s hand to her lips and kissed a knuckle. “You said people might talk about us anyway.”

  “I just think people like to talk. To gossip. Sometimes it’s accurate, sometimes not. I don’t think we—or anyone—should make decisions based on what might be rumored now or in the future. That’s all I meant.”

  “I agree with you. It’s such a poignant observation.”

  “That’s me. The poignant observer.” Dylan winked.

  “It kind of is you.” Briana stopped to consider for a second. “Your observation got the case off the ground. You put it together that Benji and Paul were related. You figured out that Paul was in charge. You’re intelligent and intuitive.”

  “I try.” Dylan’s smile was appreciative, but her eyes were focused on Briana’s mouth.

  “Are you going to kiss me?” she asked even though it broke the moment.

  Dylan nodded and came around the island to plant the softest, most decadent kiss on her lips. It deepened, and she didn’t fight it. Instead she ran her hand up to touch Dylan’s buzzed hairline and felt her legs spread open to bring Dylan closer.

  “Sorry.” She felt Dylan’s mouth below her ear, on her neck. “You complimenting me turns me on, apparently.”

  “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “I interrupted you, though.” Dylan dotted her nose with a kiss, dialing back the moment and stepping away. “Tell me about the new rules. Then remind me to tell you about Trevor.”

  “Is everything okay with him?”

  “Yep. It’s nothing. Work.”

  “Oh, okay.” She sipped her coffee and prayed her idea came out normal. “Anyway. If we both want this, it is insane to deny ourselves. I mean, look what happened last night.”

  “I thought last night was pretty great.”

  “Of course, yes.” Why was she botching this? She took a deep breath and tried again. “I meant before we came here. You left the city because I was talking to Dante. I had an aneurysm when I saw you with the Starbucks girl.”

  “That’s called jealousy, by the way.” Dylan stuck her tongue out, and instead of being annoyed, she was charmed by the silly act.

  “I hate you.”

  “You don’t. But go on.”

  “I just think we could drive ourselves crazy by not acting on what we feel. Despite my suggestion to the contrary a few weeks ago. I now see how abstaining is actually more distracting than pursuing this.”

  “I agree.” Dylan’s brow creased. “I feel a caveat coming on.”

  Briana’s heart sank that Dylan anticipated it and seemed perturbed. “I just think we should be discreet.”

  “I think that’s fair.” It calmed her to see Dylan’s expression relax. “Not to start an argument, but I’ve kind of been saying that all along.”

  “I know.” Briana was more than a little nervous, and she picked at her manicure. “Can we please be very careful in the office? No touches, no looks, no nothing.”

  “Yes, Boss.”

  “Dylan, I mean it.”

  “I know, babe.” Dylan leaned forward to give her a quick peck. “I’m just playing because you worry too much. But yes, discretion is fine with me.”

  “I also think we should be cautious around here.”

  Dylan looked around her apartment, apparently not following.

  “In the neighborhood,” she clarified. “We should be careful. New York is huge, but it’s also small in so many ways.” She saw Dylan’s face sink. “Please don’t be mad. I’m not trying to hide you.”

  “I know.” Dylan straightened her back and cracked her neck. “I know you’re right. I just like holding your hand. It’s stupid.”

  “It’s not.” It was so incredibly sweet and unexpected. But completely taboo for what they were considering. “Come here,” she said. “Hold my hand now.”

  Dylan accepted the offer and let Briana guide her into an embrace. Briana rubbed her strong shoulders and peppered her face with tiny kisses. “I’m sorry and I hate even suggesting we keep this hush-hush because it just feels…well, wrong. And I’m worried that I’m coming off bossy, and I’m not trying to be.” She hoped she wasn’t pushing Dylan away with her request. “I just think for right now, handling it this way is for the best.”

  “You’re right,” Dylan said. Briana liked the weight of Dylan’s body in her arms. “I hate that you’re right. But I know you are.”

  “What are you doing today?” she asked, thinking some daytime togetherness might make up for the secrecy of their union.

  Dylan kissed her cheek and leaned back against the counter. “Today, I am putting in a new vanity for Mrs. Lemke.”

  “Your tenant?”

  “No.” Dylan shook her head. “Rose Lemke is my neighbor across the street.”

  “Ugh.” Briana held a hand to her forehead. “Do I even want to know?”

  “She’s a seventy-year-old widow.” Dylan laughed.

  “Are you, like, her super or something?”

  Dylan stuffed her hands into the pockets of her pants. “No.” She reached back for more fruit. “She told me about a problem with her bathroom sink a week or so back. I offered to take a look at it for her. It was a bad leak, and it pretty much destroyed her cabinet. Rather than just replace the pipes, I suggested buying a new unit. She was going to pay for the install, but that’s a rip-off. I told her I’d do it for her today.”

  “Will she pay you?”

  “She’ll try. I’m not going to take her money.” She finished her coffee. “I will, however, let her send me home with a plate of pasta and meatballs, if she offers. Because that lady can cook.”

  “You’re nice.” Briana rubbed Dylan’s stomach just because she wanted to touch, and they were in a safe place where they could. “Oh, hey, what did you want to tell me about Trevor?”

  “Ah, that.” Dylan reached for her hand. “Trevor asked me talk to you about the case.”

  “Oh?”

  “Apparently he thinks I have some sway with you.” Dylan ran one finger up her thigh. Her expression was all devious charm. “And after last night, I think he might be right.”

  “Dylan.” She breathed her name in the sexiest voice she could muster and let Dylan’s hand reach almost to her center before stopping her cold. “Don’t do that. It’s not funny.”

  Dylan’s smile was enormous. “It’s a little funny,” she said.

  Briana shook her head but kept the vibe light. “For real, what’s up with the investigation?” She pulled Dylan close, still wanting contact.

  “For real he’s hoping I can convince you to consider the undercover operation at the Wine Bar.”

  “That’s simple.” She guided Dylan’s hand down the front of her pants, knowing she was already super wet. “Get me some real PC and I’m all in.”

  Dylan’s groan was guttural. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “We got it.”

  Briana looked up to see Dylan and Trevor in her doorway. They were both beaming and breathless.

  “Did you two take the stairs up here?” she asked. She stood up and moved a box of di
scovery off a chair so both seats were open. “Sit down. Tell me what’s got you both so excited you left the plant and came up to the dreaded legal office on the tenth floor.”

  One look at the sparkle in Dylan’s ice blue eyes and she knew it was going to be good news. She’d learned a lot about Dylan in just a short few weeks since they’d made their clandestine arrangement official. First and foremost, Dylan’s eyes revealed everything. They twinkled when she was giddy. She sported a mini eleven between her brows when she was stressed. Her pupils expanded when she was ready to make her move. And, God, her eyelids dropped closed one millisecond before the rest of her body stilled as she climaxed.

  Work.

  She was at work and needed to compartmentalize. She could have these decadent thoughts all she wanted when she was at home. Or at Dylan’s. On the subway, even. She even gave herself a little leeway for daydreaming during administrative staff meetings that had little to do with casework. But right now she needed to get a handle on herself.

  “What’s going on?” She made sure to look at Trevor as much as Dylan. “Enlighten me.”

  “We got some good stuff on Benji’s phone just now.” Trevor leaned all the way forward in his chair, racing through the details. “He says to Paul, we’ll come up by you on Seventy-Second. That’s the Wine Bar. On Seventy-Second and First Avenue. This is going to be it.”

  “Okay. I have a few questions,” she said, hoping to slow him down a little. She looked at Dylan to fill in the gaps.

  “Dom and Karrakas have been on Benji all week,” Dylan said, dusting off her jeans. “He’s done very little. George has been dropping off to his regulars. But when we follow them at night and on the weekends, they tend to go to college raves, frat parties. Places where it’s hard for us to blend in.”

  “Okay.”

  “We think that’s where they’re hitting up the college crowd. Benji started to say something on the phone. He was on with Paul, and he said something about needing to restock because the kids like to party.” Dylan put air quotes around the phrase. “Paul shut him down right away and directed them to come up to see him at the bar on the East Side to discuss business. We’re pretty sure he’s referencing the Wine Bar.”

 

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