And now she knew the truth. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. But it was too late. He was gone.
It was the weirdest fucking dream he’d ever had. And the strangest thing about it was, it seemed so familiar.
It was Sera’s dream. The one she’d told him about when she’d OD’d. When she’d died.
Shit! Did that mean he was dead?
He lifted his head and pried open his eyes. If he’d died, couldn’t he have gone somewhere nicer than this crappy office? Then he realized he was looking down on the office, as if from great height. The room was full–uniformed and plain clothes cops. There was Carlos…and Sera. Bent over a body on the floor.
His body.
Jesus Christ.
She was sobbing, leaning on his chest with her hands, talking to him. She had blood on her hands. She didn’t like blood. He wanted to tell her to stop, to tell her it was okay. He was okay. He didn’t hurt. He felt actually pretty good. Peaceful. Light.
He felt himself being drawn away. Brilliant white light pulled him down a long corridor. He wanted to go. But Sera kept asking him to come back. Telling him she loved him. She loved him.
He’d made her a promise. How could he leave her?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sera rushed out of the elevator onto the floor of the ATF field office in the World Trade Center building in downtown L.A. She hated being late, but she’d had things she had to do, then she couldn’t find anywhere to park and had ended up jogging three blocks in heels. She could have made it there a lot faster, except for the damn agent, charged with keeping her safe after the raids, trailing along behind her, huffing and puffing.
Now her feet were burning, and her silk blouse clung to her damp skin.
Ah well.
She’d been brought back to L.A. ten days ago, taken to her apartment to get clothes and toiletries, accompanied by her special agent guard–her new best friend, yeah right–then taken to a hotel where she’d have to stay indefinitely. She had no idea when or even if she’d ever be able to return to her apartment. Strangely, she found herself worried about Leo. They’d tried to stop her from talking to him, but she’d put up a big fight over that and finally they’d let her go see him for a few minutes. But of course there wasn’t much she could really tell him and her heart still hurt, thinking that she might never see him again, thinking about how alone he was. Christ, it was enough to make her choke up.
She yanked open the door to the room where the crisis center had been set up. It was a humming center of activity. When agents had made arrests and executed search warrants at all the Clover City locations planned, they’d discovered other places where drugs or firearms had been stashed that weren’t in the warrant. They then called the crisis center where staff immediately began the paperwork necessary to get the warrant so the agents could legally complete the search. Sera had spent the last week there helping identify suspects and giving details about location of weapons when they needed to obtain additional search warrants. Vince, Zocco, Chomp, A.J. and more were now all in jail.
Faces turned to look at her as she walked into the room, male faces mostly, studying her with open appreciation. She ignored them as she strode toward her desk.
Then her eyes returned to one man, tall, wide-shouldered, wearing black pants, a charcoal shirt and silver silk tie. He stood across the room next to a desk, talking to another man she didn’t recognize, and looking at some papers in his hand. His dark hair was cut short, with neat sideburns. Holy mother of god.
Ryan.
He was back.
He’d cut off all his beautiful hair.
He lifted his head, did a double take, then stared back at her, amber eyes stretched open so wide she feared his eyeballs might fall out and bounce across the floor. She put a hand to her own hair. The buzz of activity in the room faded into the background as they gazed at each other. Ryan walked slowly across the room toward her, never taking his eyes off her. Seeing him set off a small earthquake inside her.
“Seraphina.” Darren Forsythe stepped between them. “Nice of you to join us.”
“Seraphina?” Ryan repeated the name, slack-jawed, still gazing at her in stupefaction.
She grimaced at the rarely used name. “Sorry I’m late,” she muttered. Her heart pattered a little quickly from the running. Not from seeing Ryan again. No, no. She plucked her damp blouse away from her chest and shoulders with both hands. “I had some things I had to take care of.”
She could not drag her eyes away from him. He looked insanely gorgeous. So businesslike. So clean-cut and professional. So…pale and thin. She bit her bottom lip.
“What the hell did you do to your hair?” he demanded.
She blinked at him, then poked his arm. “What did I do? What did you do?”
He ran a hand over his cropped hair. “I couldn’t stand it another day,” he muttered.
“Well, neither could I.”
He reached out and ran his fingers down a lock of her hair. “You’re blonde,” he breathed.
“Yeah. So?” Did he have a problem with that? When she’d dyed her hair that near-black color months ago, she’d worried it would stay that way forever. Luckily her hairdresser had worked some magic, and, along with a deep conditioner, she seemed to be back to her normal honey gold color without too much damage.
He stepped closer. “You look so different.”
“So do you.”
Then her body went soft and she leaned toward him, laid her fingertips gently on his chest. “Oh, Ryan. Are you okay?”
He nodded, the corners of his mouth lifted, and he said, “Yeah. I’m okay.”
The sound of a throat clearing had her turning her head.
Darren scowled at them.
Ryan blinked rapidly and shoved one hand in his pocket. He hunched his shoulders, so broad beneath the fine material of his dress shirt, and she longed to reach out and smooth her hands over them.
“My office. Now.” Ryan jerked his head.
“I just got here.”
“Yeah,” Darren said. “She just got here. You two have work to do.”
Ryan turned and leveled a look at him. “We need to…debrief.”
Darren’s mouth opened then closed. “I thought you did that in the hospital,” he muttered. “Fine.” And he turned his back on them.
Wow. Things must be going well. Or maybe Darren felt guilty that Ryan had almost died.
Nah.
Ryan grabbed Sera’s hand and dragged her out of the crisis center, down the hall, around the corner and into an office.
“I didn’t know you had an office,” she said as he closed the door. Her pulse skittered and her breathing was shallow.
“I do now.”
He turned to face her, and she licked her lips.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said, voice breathy. They’d talked briefly on the phone a couple of times, but it hadn’t been enough and they’d both been aware of the scrutiny they were under. “After they resuscitated you at the hospital and we knew you were going to make it, they wouldn’t let me come see you. They’re paranoid that someone’s going to recognize us. Apparently our lives are in danger. Or something. I’ve got my new best friend, that Fokker, following me around everywhere I go.”
“No need for name calling.”
She grinned. “That’s his name. Fokker.”
He smiled back at her. “Yeah. I have one of those new best friends too. Guess we have to put up with it for a while. And yeah, I’m really okay. I’m sore as hell, and weak as a fucking guppy, but fine.” He settled his hands on her hips and drew in a breath.
“Puppy.”
“Huh?”
“Weak as a puppy.”
His lips quirked. “I think a guppy is weaker.”
They stood there smiling at each other for a moment.
“It’s good to see you too, even though I may get fired over this,” he finally said.
“Why would they fire you?” She frowned and trailed
her fingers over his short hair again.
His mouth twisted. “Darren hates me because I screwed up a case once before by getting personally involved with someone.”
Her hand dropped and she stepped back. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh really.”
“Not like that.” He shook his head, his eyes steady and reassuring. “She was a young girl, but I wasn’t in love with her. She was like a little sister. She was an informant. Her boyfriend was a big dope dealer. She was squealing on him and we were ready to arrest him when she took some bad shit and died.” His eyes darkened, and Sera laid a palm on his cheek. “I was so fucking pissed off, when we went to arrest the guy I beat the shit out of him. And the guy got off.”
“Oh.” Her heart squeezed. “Oh Ryan.”
“I swore I’d never get personally involved with anyone while working on a case again. And then you came along and shot that all to hell.”
“I’m sorry.” A smile tugged at her lips. So that was why Darren rode his ass all the time. That along with the fact that Ryan was everything Darren wasn’t–passionate, involved, dynamic. Someone who actually gave a shit, instead of just putting in time.
“You should be.” His mouth quirked. “I fought it. But it was–unfightable. Is that a word?”
“Whatever.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You’re not going to get fired.”
“If I do, I don’t care. I don’t think I can do another undercover op like that one.”
“You’re not going to be a suit and sit at a desk all day.”
“Don’t know if I can do that, no. We’ll see.” He grimaced, then eyed her. “We have a helluva lot to talk about.”
She looked like an angel.
It was the first and only word that came to mind when he gazed at her. Her hair glowed like a golden halo around her head, those crystal blue eyes pure and sparkling. She’d been heartbreakingly, gut-wrenchingly gorgeous before, but with her hair and yes, eyebrows, their natural color, her skin glowing, she was…soul-touching.
“Like what? We have work to do.”
He grinned. Angelic as she appeared, she was still tough, stubborn and annoying as hell. He moved toward her.
“First, this.”
He set his hands on her waist, pulled her against him then wrapped his arms around her, one hand sliding up under the curtain of hair, and kissed her.
Her mouth was soft and sweet, and after one…two…three heartbeats of surprise, she opened for him and kissed him back, hands grabbing at him, body pressing hungrily up against him. Desire sizzled up and down his spine, tightened his balls, surged in his cock.
Their mouths devoured each other in long, starving kisses. “Christ, Sera. It feels like months since I’ve seen you.”
“I know.” Her head fell back, and his mouth slid over her throat in hot, opened-mouthed kisses. “More like years. God, Ryan, they wouldn’t let me come see you.”
He slid one hand down her back to the curve of her ass. She was wearing a skirt, a knee-length skirt that hugged her curves, perfectly respectable and business-like, but he’d never seen her dressed like that and it lit him up. Her silk blouse tied in a bow at her throat, fluttery little sleeves leaving her arms bare.
He pressed his hips into hers, holding her with his hand on her butt, and kissed her mouth again, his tongue sliding inside. She licked him back, and one foot wearing–Jesus–a high-heeled, black pump, curled around his calf.
“Does the door lock?” she panted.
He reached behind him for it, and found the button. Yes! Amazingly, it did. He popped it in and reached back for her.
“Nice skirt,” he muttered, inching it up her thighs.
“Thanks.” She nipped his chin with her teeth. “I like your tie.” Her fingers tugged at it.
“I hate wearing fucking ties.”
She choked on a laugh. “Then why are you wearing it?”
“Hell if I know. Seemed like the thing to do now I’ve put my Coyotes colors away.”
Her hands slid down over his chest and worked at the buckle of his belt, then the opening of his pants, while he discovered the tiny thong underwear she wore beneath the skirt that was now bunched around her waist. His fingers trailed over the firm, warm flesh of her cheeks, lingering between them.
Lust roared through him like a speeding motorcycle. He had to have her.
She lifted one leg higher on his hip and he walked her backward until she bumped into a desk. He lifted her by her ass and set her down, stepped between her legs.
She gazed up at him, mouth wet and swollen, eyes gleaming, her hands clutching his shoulders.
“This isn’t talking,” she said.
“Shut up.” His teeth took a tiny bite of her bottom lip. She sucked in a breath.
He covered one breast and squeezed it through the silk blouse and whatever scrap of lingerie she wore beneath it. He longed to see it, but urgent need throbbing in his dick overrode curiosity and he pulled his cock out of his pants.
“Stop.”
He gritted his teeth, hand on his throbbing dick.
“Should you be doing this? You could…hurt yourself.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Okay,” she sighed, reaching for him. Her hands on him made his cock twitch hard. She spread her legs wider and he tugged the tiny scrap of lace covering her pussy aside while she guided the head of his cock to her.
“Yes,” she hissed, head falling back as he pushed into her.
“Sera,” he groaned, one hand on her hips to hold her in place as he thrust forward, afraid he’d send her flying right off the desk. She linked her hands behind his neck and her feet behind his back, and small whimpers and panting breaths were the only sounds in the room as they rocked together.
Christ, she felt incredible, tight and hot and wet, gripping him like a fist, squeezing him, each thrust deeper, each pull out a sweet drag on his sensitive flesh. In only a moment, her breathing accelerated even more and he slipped a hand between them and found her clit, stroking over it while he tried to keep thrusting as deeply as he could. She cried out, burying her face into his shoulder to muffle the noise.
“Sorry,” she gasped. Her fingers dug into his neck and he gave one more thrust and then exploded inside her. He too had to swallow the noise that rose up in his throat, and he held himself against her sweet pussy as he pulsed and flooded her with his come.
“Sera. Damn, Sera.”
“I’m here.” Her fingers relaxed and stroked over his neck. She dragged them through his hair. “Your hair is gone. Your beautiful hair.”
“You liked it long?” His chest heaved and he fought for oxygen to form the words.
“I loved it. But…” She too paused for a gulp of air. “I love this look too.”
“Okay. Good.” He usually didn’t give a shit what he looked like, but after months of the undercover biker role he’d found himself dying to get rid of the hair. He wanted, needed, to separate himself from that life. It felt weird, but good.
They rested their foreheads together. Footsteps sounded in the hall outside the office door and they tensed. Their eyes met. But the steps continued past.
They sagged against each other again, still breathing hard, laughing a little.
“God,” he muttered, reaching for a tissue on the desk. Cheap, sandpapery ones, not good enough for Sera’s soft pussy–or his dick, for that matter–but they’d have to do. “I can’t believe we just did that here.”
“That was very unprofessional.”
“You know it.”
Once again their eyes met and they shared a smile.
He helped her clean up, and tossed the tissues into the wastebasket with a grimace. The room reeked of sex. It made him a little hard again, already.
“Okay,” he said, helping her slide off the desk and tug her skirt back down. “Now we can talk.”
She pressed her lips together as if she was trying not to smile, and tossed her hair back. “Oh sure,” she said. “I see where
your priorities are.”
He nodded, tongue tucked into his cheek. “Damn straight.” He zipped up and fastened his belt. Then he reached for her again. Her silk blouse had come untucked and the skirt was a bit rumpled, but who the hell cared? He kissed her once more, long, slow, with lingering tongue, then drew back and smiled at her. “I love you, Sera.”
She blinked at him wordlessly.
“C’mon, let’s sit.” Two chairs sat in front of the desk, and he shoved them together, sat down and tugged her onto his lap. “Sera. That night in the warehouse. When it all went to shit.”
She nodded, eyes solemn, her arms around his neck.
“I heard everything you said to me that night,” he continued, holding her gaze.
She dipped her chin. He lifted it with his knuckles. “You can’t deny it anymore, Sera. I heard you tell me you love me.”
He’d been dead. There was no possible way he could have heard her tell him that.
“Sera.” His voice was so low she almost couldn’t hear him. “It happened to me too.”
“What happened?” She clutched on to him for support and stared up at him.
“I…” His teeth worried his bottom lip. “I had that experience. I was outside my body…I saw myself lying there. I saw you.”
“Oh.” Her mind tried to absorb what he was telling her. “Really?”
“Yes.” His eyes dark and serious, he leaned even closer. “I heard what you said to me, Sera. I was floating around, watching you cry and wishing you weren’t so sad because I was feeling actually pretty good. I was worried about you, because I know how you get when there’s blood. And then…I saw the light. The white light. Fuck, that sounds lame.”
“It did happen to you too,” she whispered. She touched his face.
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “It’s fucking with my mind, but I know what I experienced. I couldn’t leave, though. I wanted to, but I had to come back. To you. I promised.”
Her eyes stung. She laid a hand between her breasts and pressed the ache there.
“Oh hell, I made you cry. Again.” He sighed. “And…I came back for a reason. I knew when I came back I had something do to.”
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