Fallen Dom

by Lexxi James

  “With you?” Delaney squinted, confused.

  Jake broke in. “With a remarkable woman. Someone Kathryn knows very, very well.”

  Kathryn topped his convenient truth with a dollop of cold, hard facts. “And it wouldn’t have been over in time for him to do anything at my place, because he was in Denver when it was all happening.”

  She nodded enthusiastically, coaxing Jake to nod along. He did, with a gleeful glance back at her.

  Delaney pushed further. “And the fingerprints?”

  Kathryn’s fumbling for words caused Jake to break in.

  “Were they on her purse? When I met my date, I found that purse lying out in the open. I moved it for safekeeping until she could break away from whatever was holding her back.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Girls who don’t secure their belongings are just begging to be punished.”

  Jake threw his muscular arm around Kathryn. Her gasp was quiet as he tugged her body close.

  Delaney looked at Jake in disbelief. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe this at all.”

  “Which part?” Kathryn asked before sucking in a guilty breath. Her exhale escaped with the tiniest whimper as Jake’s fingers skimmed the small of her back.

  The detective laughed as he peered at Jake. “Did you just say you were on a date?”

  “I was,” Jake said with a grin so wide, she dropped her face to the palm of her hand. “Because of this one right here. On one hell of a blind date with an unbelievable woman who knew exactly what she wanted.”

  The detective landed a few hearty pats on Jake’s shoulder. “Well, good for you. I’m glad you’re finally getting back into the dating scene. What’s she like?”

  Kathryn’s ears perked up.

  “Oh, you know the type,” Jake drawled, and her eyes widened. “Gorgeous. Smart. With a fiery side that draws me in.”

  His warm hand slid lower, falling perfectly across the handprint hidden beneath her jeans.

  Her yelp flew out before she could stop it, forcing her to bolt from his touch. “Well, glad I could help.”

  She raced out the door, down the hall, and out the precinct doors, ignoring the cries of “Kathryn, wait up!” coming from behind her. Relieved that her up-front parking facilitated her escape, she jumped into her car and started it with trembling fingers.

  As she sped away, her heart pounded, and her mind descended in a tailspin of disgrace, desire, and pure debauchery.

  She’d torn away from him. From that big, brawny, ripped, lickable him.

  Maybe I’ve earned myself a spanking . . .

  Stop it! Get a grip.

  Yeah, I’d love to get a grip . . .

  Oh my God, I sound like a sex maniac.

  Her visceral tug-of-war between angel/devil mind dominance was understandable. Or so she rationalized.

  For years, Kathryn had been haunted by the body of Sergeant Russo. The last she’d seen, he was stable but lifeless. Bloody. Bruised. Helpless, and nearly hopeless.

  But holy shitballs, look at him now. Apparently, one taste of death turned this man into a smoldering rock-hard body perfect for sex and sin.

  It was him. Last night. My mystery Dom.

  Seducing out my secrets. Teasing with that finger that wouldn’t quit.

  Touching. Spanking. Taming.

  The two men who’d brought more of her raw emotions to the surface were one and the same. Dealing with it all was a challenge. She couldn’t process everything she was feeling, though the wetness weeping from her core was a hell of a clue.

  Desperate to relieve her spiking body heat, Kathryn pressed hard on the button in the door, somehow willing the window to lower faster. Blazing a trail home at seventy miles per hour, she barely felt the icy blast of the thirty-degree breeze.

  What the hell is that man doing to me?

  Ten

  “Kathryn!” Jake ran after her, not giving a damn how loud he was in an echoing hall of a police station. Had his phone, wallet, and keys not still been locked up, he’d have been in the hottest pursuit of his life.

  He called out one last time, pounding his determined feet down to the front doors. Watching her car speed away into the distance, he blew out an amused huff. Captivated, he smiled as he watched until her car vanished.

  I’m not through with you yet, little kitten.

  After grabbing his belongings from the front desk, he ordered a Lyft home. Delaney offered him a ride, but the last thing he wanted was to keep the conversation going with Scott. He’d rather pass the time figuring out how to get closer to a certain sub-on-the-run.

  He didn’t have Kathryn’s number, and the likelihood of her calling him after an escape like that? Powerball had better odds.

  Determined, he pulled out his phone during the ride home and checked in with his failsafe source for tracking people down. The all-knowing Facebook.

  Bingo. There she was, in a myriad of snapshots that balanced campy and goofy with kind and sincere. A natural beauty who rarely wore more than mascara and lip gloss, she shared the warmest parts of her life across the internet.

  No drama. Just a constant string of happy times with family and friends. And a fairly regular night out with the girls on Thursday nights at a local bar.

  Lucky me.

  After passing through the iron gates of his property, the Lyft meandered up the long driveway. For the first time in a long time, Jake felt it. He was coming home.

  No, not the lavish cabin hidden on a heavily wooded hilltop. Despite the multimillion-dollar price tag, it was just his residence. Home was somewhere deeper, buried inside him below the heavy burden of guilt. Until last night, he hadn’t been sure he’d be capable of balancing his wants and needs against his raw, uncut emotions. To trust his own mind.

  Four friends lost. And nearly a fifth. His split-second reaction nearly cost him one of his own.

  Disgusted with himself, it took him a good year of rebuilding himself from the inside out before he could face his own reflection in the mirror. But with Kathryn, he felt different. Connected. She was just the catalyst he needed to reset his mind. Focus on his wants. Let himself feel alive again.

  But first things first.

  After paying the driver and going inside, he hit the shower. Washing away the few hours of time in a jail cell was priority number one.

  Not that he was a stranger to lockup. An adrenaline addict with anger management issues tended to enjoy the regular bar brawl. But that made waking up behind bars just another Saturday morning. And he was respectable now.

  Semi-respectable.

  His hands caught his eye. They were unscathed, which was a new twist after lockup. He supposed his self-imposed house arrest contributed to that—his own version of home confinement with one boring day followed by the next. At least he could keep up appearances of being a man in control.

  Strike that. A Dom in control.

  Half the time, he embraced his life as a well-adjusted and contributing member of society. In control.

  And the rest of the time, he was bored out of his fucking mind. He could feel himself on edge. Dangerous. Losing control.

  His current work was deep in the internet, chasing criminals and nefarious masterminds around cyberspace, catching bad guys and protecting his employer. In theory, not hugely different from his former life. But a world of difference in reality.

  He was the good guy. The hero. Crushing the criminal underpinnings across the world wide web with a few lines of code, like a souped-up video game that he was damn good at winning. But it wasn’t the front lines.

  This new life was comfortable.

  Very comfortable.

  Dull-as-fuck comfortable.

  Rubbing his hands together, he calmed. His body demanded a high-octane battle fix, and fighting was his release. Matched with an angry drunk equal in brute strength usually did the trick. Jake wasn’t in it to pound someone senseless. But nothing suppressed his unsettled mind like feeling the pain. It let him breathe.

  Still, t
he stale stench of jail gets old. Fast. And his dark tendencies seemed to take a back seat when he found a better way to fight his demons. He tore a page out of Nurse Chase’s playbook and became a volunteer emergency medical technician.

  Medicine was love at first fight. Uncooperative patients were his spirit animal. Never knowing what he’d be walking into filled the void of needing the unexpected. Over the last couple of years, he’d honed his skills, balancing the right mix of physical strength, compassion, and a laser focus on what they needed—his patients. They might be a druggie on his third OD. Or a stroke victim. Maybe an active shooter who’d been taken down.

  And then there were the children. Those were the best days, and the worst. But he’d be their gentle giant, treating and protecting them, if only for the moment.

  No two days were alike, and Jake liked that, because he could work his shifts around his regular job with irregular hours. It became his relief valve. And nearly two years of one emergency after another bestowed him with a supreme gift . . .

  Perspective.

  He understood the ungodly circumstances Kathryn must have battled day in and day out—losing one life, and then saving another. An EMT, like an ER nurse, would never get to know the people they’d impacted most. It was just another day. Another joy. Another unspeakable anguish.

  And she’d wrestled through both emotional journeys with him.

  For the next few hours, Jake caught up on work, half laughing, half dreading the phone call from his boss.

  “Jail? Again?” Mark asked. “At least tell me it’s something exciting . . . like, you’ve been charged with prostituting yourself? No judgment. At least you’re getting out.”

  Jake chuckled along with him. “Um, no. Through a bizarre set of circumstances, I happened to be the lead suspect in a B-and-E investigation.” As silence set in, Jake cringed, knowing Mark was patiently waiting for him to elaborate. “Let me start by stating I didn’t do it.”

  “That’s the guiltiest thing you’ve ever said. What did they have on you?”

  “Fingerprints.”

  “Fingerprints,” Mark said slowly, like an epiphany would hit him at any moment. “And what were your fingerprints on?”

  Jake swallowed, then cleared his throat. “A, um, purse.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mark didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “Let me go out on a limb and assume it wasn’t your purse. Do I have to ask, or are you going to tell me?”

  Jake quickly fumbled out his explanation. “Look, you know me. I’m not into petty theft, and we’re not working on anything that would need hands-on investigating. It’s . . . personal.”

  “Personal?” Mark chuckled, obviously having way too much fun with this. “I’m glad to know there is such a thing as that with you.”

  “Fine,” Jake said on a long exhale. “It’s Kathryn Chase.”

  “Oh.” Mark took a minute, then added, “That’s interesting.” His tone wasn’t nearly as jovial as a second ago.

  Concerned, Jake asked, “Interesting, how?”

  “Well, let’s just say your paths were about to cross anyway. For other than personal reasons. Remember Zach?”

  “Wolff? Yeah. Wolff Investigations.”

  “That’s the one. He’s got a case, and I’m intrigued enough to bring in the big guns. You and the team. And out of my own pocket.”

  “If it’s on your dime, I guess the sky’s the limit.”

  “As if you need a bigger headquarters. But yes, the sky’s the limit. Don’t cheap out. The guys deserve better than that crappy instant coffee you had last time.”

  Amused, Jake huffed. “Fine. One state-of-the-art coffeemaker coming up. I’ll probably need a new truck to haul it in with too. Maybe an additional room to properly store my new barista wear.” He chuckled, and then his jabs at the boss stopped. “But what does this have to do with Kathryn?”

  Mark answered, but only after a low growl exploded in a shout. “Goddammit,” he barked. “I’m about to lose big-time, and all because Alex and Paco were fucking right. I can’t keep my big mouth shut.” He blew out a breath. “Ms. Chase is Zach’s lead investigator on the case.”

  No fucking way. Was this the case Paco mentioned was coming my way?

  To be sure, Jake asked his boss, “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. Go ahead and give him a call so you can get caught up. I’ve got a bet to square.”

  “I will,” Jake said, regretting how eager he sounded.

  “Oh, I know you will. And have fun,” Mark said cheerfully, ending the call.

  Jake smiled. Oh, I intend to.

  Before springing himself on the elusive Ms. Chase, Jake had a few things to check off his to-do list. Digging a little deeper into the break-in at her place was first on his list.

  With a few keystrokes, he bypassed the PD’s firewalls to sneak a peek at the police report. Dead end. Only the basic information was available. The full report hadn’t been uploaded yet.

  That’s not like Scott. He’s probably double-checking that I’m not in it. But the little that was there was enough to send Jake past mildly concerned straight to protective.

  He checked the time. Kathryn’s weekly meet-up with the girls for drinks was less than an hour away, something her Facebook time stamps had clued him in on. Making his way to the walk-in closet, he ran a palm over his scruff, uncertain about the right outfit for bodyguard duty.

  After flipping through his closet twice, he found the task was tougher than he’d thought. Suits weren’t his style, and the venue would be crowded and casual. Besides, once a girl’s seen you in your everyday wardrobe at an interrogation room, pretty much anything’s a step up.

  She might not even show, he thought, then reconsidered. She’ll be there. After today, that girl needs three things . . .

  Besties.

  Booze.

  And maybe a little after-party binding.

  His thoughts wandered back to every part of Kathryn’s beautifully bent-over body. Her creamy skin glowed under the stunning brightness of a blush that just became his new favorite color.

  His hand ached to smack that gorgeous ass pink again, but he wrapped his grip around his cock instead, containing his throbbing need. Eventually, he decided on a pair of loose jeans, a good call to withstand whatever might come up, then decided on a basic white button-down shirt.

  His imaginative mind reeled with one dirty thought after another, and his pants choice seemed to be agreeing with the bulge of his concealed weapon.

  Jake smiled. Being this close to Kathryn Chase was like a taste of chocolate after a three-year sugar hiatus. The rush was exhilarating.

  His mind, like his pants, was pushing his limits.

  I might need another shower.

  What the hell is this woman doing to me?

  Eleven

  “Sorry I’m late,” Kathryn blurted to her friends when she arrived at the restaurant.

  The foursome had met in nursing school years ago, and immediately bonded over a love of appetizers and their shared lifelong need to help others. Nothing beats a tough day better than a free-for-all vent session during half-priced happy hour.

  As Kathryn plopped into the empty seat at the table, Dana and Laurie were elbow-deep in devouring their wings, while Julian was pushing around some scraps of lettuce on his plate, with the audacity to call it dinner.

  Kathryn glared at him, grumbling. “Seriously, you’re giving me a complex. When are you going to eat something?”

  “When you show up on time,” he said, pointing his fork at her. “If that day ever comes, I’ll eat a whole damn pizza in one sitting. Now sit your ass down, take a load off, and tell us what the hell happened. You were robbed?”

  Laurie waved for the server, who promptly delivered the pre-ordered vodka tonic for Kathryn.

  With more wings on the way, she let it all out. Nearly all. Okay, none of the really juicy details, but everything related to the robbery.

  “Do you need a place to stay?”
Laurie asked, handing over the basket of wings to share until the new order arrived.

  Kathryn grabbed one and tore into it, shaking her head. “No, but thank you. I just can’t figure out what they were after,” she said, waving her chicken wing in the air as she muddled through her thoughts. “Or why they’d go to what seems to be a heck of a lot of trouble for hardly anything. But I promise you, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  When she noticed the worry on her friends’ faces, Kathryn raised a hand. “I’m fine,” she said, but when Dana reached out to caress the back of Kathryn’s head, she winced. “Ow.”

  Dana gave her a scolding look. “Fine, huh?”

  The second basket, still steaming, was set before them.

  Famished, Kathryn grabbed a fresh wing. “Nothing that a few more wings and a little of this heavenly tonic can’t cure. Cheers.”

  She lifted her glass, and the others reached in to clink theirs.

  “And the cherry on the hot fudge sundae is that since this afternoon, I’ve been getting a string of random calls from skittish guys, heavy breathers, and the grossest, most bizarre men. I couldn’t keep up with blocking them all. I had to shut off my phone.”

  Smirking, Julian fixed his gaze over Kathryn’s shoulder. “Speaking of gross, bizarre men.”

  “Drinks are on me,” a familiar and unwelcome voice said from behind her.

  Kathryn slumped when she heard the voice. Turning to him, she forced a smile. “That’s sweet, Artie. It really is. But we’re good.”

  “Hey, if you’re trying to save me money, no need to worry. I’ve got plenty of it.” He leaned so close to her ear, the moisture of his whisper made her skin crawl. “Besides, I thought you liked a take-charge guy. That’s what your ad said, right?”

  Adrenaline shot through Kathryn, and she jumped to her feet and shoved the man out of earshot of her friends.

  “Careful,” he said, scowling as he brushed at his chest. “The last thing I need is a stain on my brand-new shirt.” With his best seductive look—which captured all the charm of a man fully constipated—he arched a brow. “It’s Armani.”