“Aidan, please. Please, please, please…”
“I fucking love hearing you beg,” he muttered in to her tousled hair as he sped up his thrusts inside her quivering body. “Now be a good girl and scream my name as you come.”
The tension snapped now, brutally hard, and she did as he demanded. His name was ripped from her throat as her body clenched and released on his cock in spasms and waves that didn’t diminish in intensity for ages. The clutching of her pussy walls was just too much and now Aidan groaned, low and long, gave two wild plunges, three, four… and then Gabi felt every muscle in his powerful body go rock-hard against her softness.
Aidan stopped breathing as his body locked up and then exploded in a release that made him see spots and lightning bolts. Dimly, he felt his fingers digging in to her hips and he knew he was holding her too tight, but he couldn’t let up. All he could do was hold on to her and come, grunting her name against her sweet mouth.
They stayed like that for several minutes, too exhausted to move, too comfortable to want to separate. Aidan’s fingers were stroking the length of her back, her lips were on his shoulders, licking the last few drops of water from them.
He raised her chin. “That? Was amazing.”
“Uh-huh.” Gabi looked down at her heated, flushed body. “But I think we need another shower.”
He groaned. “I can’t stand up.”
She laughed, ran her hands over his upper back. She touched the bandage covering his stitches and paused. “This OK?”
“Oh, yeah. No problem, darlin’.”
“You’re indestructible, right?”
“Well, I thought I was.” He kissed her, slow and languid. “But you may be the one to finish me off.”
“Maybe.” She grinned. “But just imagine how much fun we’ll have while I try, babe.”
Chapter Seven
Several hours later, Gabi opened her eyes. She looked around, feeling confused and disoriented for a few seconds before she looked at the pillow next to hers. It had a faint indentation in it from someone sleeping there; that was when she remembered where she was.
I’m with Aidan. I’m really, really with Aidan.
A huge grin spread over her face and she sat up, wincing at the pain in her neck. Carefully, she swung her feet to the floor and stood up. She was naked and she wondered what Aidan would do if she wandered out to the living room like this. Would he throw her on the bed, take her again? She bit her lip, wondering if she should try it. She definitely wouldn’t mind going back to bed with him – though, technically, they hadn’t yet done anything in bed except sleep.
Just then, the buzzer went and she tensed up. Who was here? King, maybe? Well, she couldn’t go walking out there like this now and she looked around for something to put on.
Her long t-shirt was still in the bathroom, she assumed, and all her other clothes were in her bag out in the living room. She slid a drawer open and found Aidan’s shirts and smiled. She grabbed one, slipped it on, inhaling his strong, clean scent, the one that had surrounded her so totally as she’d slept. She had no underwear or pants, but she’d get her overnight bag now and get changed.
She heard voices outside and she paused, listening. No, she didn’t recognize whoever that was and she stayed put, hoping that everything was OK. The door closed now and all was silent. She opened the bedroom door just a crack and peered out.
“Aidan?”
His footsteps approached right away. “Gabriela? You awake?”
“Yes. Is anyone out there?”
“Nuh-uh.” He swung the door wide. “We’re all alone.”
“I heard voices…” She looked around the room. “Was the TV on?”
“Nope.” He grinned down at her, loving how she looked in his shirt, her hair all tousled from sleep and sex. “I ordered some dinner for us.”
“Dinner?” Gabi glanced out the large living room window and was stunned at the dark sky. “What time is it? How long did I sleep?”
“It’s almost eight.”
“God, really? I slept for twelve hours?”
“Well.” He pulled her in to his arms. “I did tire you out a bit, I think.”
“Ummmm.” She gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him even closer. She closed her eyes and a shiver ran down her spine as she remembered his mouth on her pussy, his body plunging deep inside her, filling her so completely. “True.”
Their kiss was sweet, tender. Aidan stroked her lips with his thumbs, rested his forehead against hers. “How you doing?”
“Better, I think.”
“You hungry?”
Her stomach gave a loud growl and Aidan laughed.
“I’ll take that as a yes, huh?”
“Yes.” She sniffed. “It smells great… what’d you get?”
He took her hand and tugged her over to the kitchen. “Indian.”
“Really?” She was delighted. “That’s my favorite!”
“Yeah, I know.” Aidan started unpacking the containers. “You told me once.”
Gabi paused, surprised. “I did? When?”
“Last winter. There was a huge snowstorm in the forecast and you told me that you were going to drive home, order enough Indian food to sink a ship and not move for the rest of the weekend. Told me that you loved the stuff more than anything in the world and that you wanted to take some Indian cuisine cooking classes but you didn’t have the time.
She stared at him. “I can’t believe that you remember that.”
“I remember every single thing you’ve ever told me over the past three years.” Aidan started dishing out the food.
“You do not.”
“Do too.” He ladled some lamb rogan josh on a bed of fluffy saffron rice. “Try me.”
“OK.” She sat down on one of the high stools at the kitchen island. “Uh. What’s my favorite coffee?”
“Ginger Orange,” Aidan said promptly. “You go for the spicy stuff, but Vanilla Hazelnut is a close second.”
She blinked. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“I know it is.”
“When did I come to the States?”
“When you were eight, from Guadalajara.” He huffed. “That was an easy one.”
“OK, then. Do I like the ocean or the forest?”
“Trick question, baby. You like neither overmuch… you love the desert. You and your family took a trip to Arizona when you were twelve and you fell in love with the desert then and you still love it now.” He opened the last two takeaway containers. “You’d move to Arizona in a heartbeat, if you had a job waiting for you when you got there.”
“My God,” she breathed. “You really do listen to me babble, huh?”
“You’d better believe it.” He grinned. “You want keema naan or a samosa?”
“Both, please.”
“A girl after my own heart,” Aidan said approvingly. “I got no time for women who don’t eat.”
“Oh, I eat, believe me.”
“I know it.” He grabbed a fork and slid the plate across the island to her. “Dig in, darlin’.”
Gabi sighed with pure happiness as she contemplated the plate in front of her. She looked up at him, so comfortable and relaxed with this man. It felt like they’d been making love and sharing a bed and eating together for years, not just a few hours. “Thank you, Aidan.”
“You’re welcome.” He started to dish out food for himself now. “No other questions for me, then?”
“Oh, I have millions.” She frowned a bit. “I have questions about you.”
“I bet you do. Shoot, Gabriela. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Yeah?”
“I promise.”
“Well, the most obvious one is about you being DEA back in Dallas.” She shrugged, still perplexed at that information. “When did you
… I mean how did you get from there and that to here and this?”
Aidan sighed heavily, not surprised that she went there right from the word go. “That is one hell of a story.”
“I’m sure it is. But you’ll tell me, right?”
“Oh, yeah.” He sat down across from her and picked up a piece of bread, tearing a chunk off to dip in the masala sauce. “Of course I will. We’re together now and you have the right to really know who you’re sharing a bed with. Who you’re letting in to your body.”
Something about his words worried her. He made it sound like he was a criminal or something, someone with a violent or dangerous past that he’d hidden away from everyone. Gabi stared across at his shimmering golden beauty, at his almost blinding glow, and waited to hear about his darkness – she was sure that it was there now.
Aidan gathered his thoughts a bit, then launched right on in to it.
“So… I’m from Dallas, born and bred. My family was… well. It was far from ideal, I guess is the nicest way to put it. Mom and Dad were both alcoholics and they drank and fought constantly and screwed around on each other, so then they’d drink and fight and cheat some more. It was just year after year of the same thing and by the time I was three, they’d split up. Mom had gotten pregnant by one of her boyfriends – guy named Paul Rattner – so Dad walked out and didn’t look back. They never officially divorced, but they were done.”
“Did things get better after they separated? When this guy moved in?”
“Maybe, for a little while. Until Sigmund was born, anyway.” Aidan sighed again, more sadly this time. “And then we had nothing but trouble again.”
“What happened?”
“Sigmund. Sig happened. He was – disturbed, and that’s putting it mildly. He was the kind of kid who kills kittens and puppies, beats on other kids nice and slow to make sure they’re not just hurt but also scared. He was a sick and twisted little prick and thank God I was older and bigger and stronger, ‘cause I needed to defend myself against him more than once.” Aidan hesitated. “One time I woke up because he was cutting my foot with a kitchen knife. Just for fun, you know. I shared a room with him, but after that, I moved to a closet downstairs and slept there. It was tiny and noisy, but no fucking way I was ever shutting my eyes again when Sig was around. I used a bungee cord to barricade myself in the closet. Did it for about six years.”
Gabi was horrified. “Oh, my God.”
“Yeah. Anyway, by the time he was ten and I was fourteen, he was a full-blown little psychopath and I damn well knew it. The school had thrown up its hands years before and the cops already knew him well, but nobody could do a thing with him. Mom and Paul were in denial and they weren’t much help for me personally.”
“They didn’t defend you?”
“Nope. They were both drinking heavily by then, were always out at the bar or in jail. I was on my own with Sig a lot of the time and I avoided the house as much as possible. I was sure that one day he’d snap and come at me and I’d have to kill him to defend myself. I’d have laid money on it, actually.”
“Did that ever happen?”
“No, but only because he killed another kid and got sent to juvie for three years.”
“Oh.” Gabi felt a bit sick. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. Sig was running with a gang by then and the kid was in some rival gang. Anyway, that was it for Sig, really. After he entered the legal system, he never really left it. Spent the next fifteen years of his life in and out of jail, not holding down a job, begging Mom and Paul for money. He was killed in some prison courtyard scuffle about four years ago and I wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised.”
“I’m so sorry, Aidan.” Gabi was surprised how much she was hurting for him. “That must have all been so, so hard on you.”
“It could have been, but I had a mentor who pulled me through the shit. Guy named Greg Neilson, a cop. He’d had some dealings with Sig and this one time I was sitting on a bench at the police station, waiting for Mom and Paul to finish talking to the cops. Greg saw me and came over with some juice. He sat and talked to me and said that if I ever needed his help with anything, I should call him.”
“How old were you?”
“Thirteen.”
“And you called him?”
“Oh, yeah. He had two sons just about my age – Ian and Eric – and they’d take me with them to baseball games and to play soccer in the park and go for pizza. Regular family stuff, really, but it was stuff that I never had with my own family. Greg encouraged me to apply myself at school and I’d go over to their place and study with Ian and Eric. Mrs. Neilson would always make sure I stayed for dinner and got sent home with a full stomach. They kind of – adopted me, I guess.”
“And is this how you became a police officer?” Gabi said. “Because Greg was?”
“Exactly. Ian’s three years older than I am, and he entered the academy and I was fascinated by the family tradition. Greg’s Dad had been a cop, and he was, and his sons would be, too. Eric and I enrolled within a year of each other and went through some training together. I graduated a year before he did and got in to the drug and gang unit early on. From there, it was just a matter of time before I worked my way up to the DEA.”
“So Ian and Eric were also cops?”
“Yeah. But the whole family moved to Houston a few years later, so I didn’t work with them directly so much after that. We crossed paths when I was in the DEA, but by then Ian was mostly in child protection and Eric was focused on homicide stuff.”
“And why’d you quit the DEA?”
“Well.” Aidan looked away from her for a second before meeting her eyes again. “I didn’t quit. I – I got fired. More than fired, actually… I was relieved of duty pending an investigation and then I was dismissed for cause.”
Gabi was shocked. “Why? What did you do?”
“I’m an alcoholic,” Aidan said quietly. “I was drinking actively the whole time I was a cop and DEA agent and after about seven years of handling things pretty well, it finally all caught up to me. I screwed up a major case and the bad guys got away. There was an investigation and I lost my badge and my reputation, in one fell swoop.”
Gabi was sitting and staring at him, totally stunned, her food completely forgotten at this point. “You’re – but – you work in a bar! Aidan, you serve up alcohol six nights a week!”
He managed a grin. “Yep.”
“I – I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “OK, wait. Go back. What happened with the case that you messed up?”
“It was a drug cartel down in Arizona with major ties back to Texas. It was a stand-off situation involving a hostage and I was called in on short notice. I was still drunk from the night before but I showed up anyway, thinking that I’d be fine and it was no big deal.” He looked down, still ashamed of how he’d behaved and the decisions he’d made that day. “We crept up on them and we entered the building without them even knowing. I was supposed to secure the back of the building but I could barely see straight. God knows, I couldn’t control my own impulses. I ignored orders and opened fire and gave us away. The assholes grabbed the hostage and took off.”
“And then?”
“They ditched the hostage at the border and they escaped. Two years of DEA and undercover work undone in two minutes, and all because I was too fucking drunk to have good judgment. But people had been suspicious of me for a while, of course. It’s not so easy to hide a drinking problem when you work with cops and agents.”
“I suppose not.”
“So that was it, really. I was told to get the hell out and I did.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “I was so ashamed and embarrassed, I holed up in my place for about three weeks, just drinking. I’d lost everything… I had been a damn good cop and a damn good agent and I’d loved it and I’d fucked it all up. I’d also compromised every investigation
and arrest I’d ever made – every asshole I’d ever busted had their lawyer file papers to have their case re-opened and reinvestigated.”
“Why?”
“To make sure that the drunk cop hadn’t fucked up the paperwork or hallucinated charges or whatever. It was hell for every single one of my ex-colleagues and superiors, I know, and it went on for over three years.”
“Did you call Greg? Or Ian or Eric?”
He gave a pained laugh. “Oh, hell, no. They called me about a thousand times, but I never answered.”
“You haven’t talked to them since?”
“No. I have no idea where they are or what they’re doing now.” He played with his fork. “I haven’t even tried to find ‘em.”
“Why not?”
“After all they did for me for all those years? I just couldn’t face them. I’m sure they’d have been supportive and understanding, but in some ways, that’d be even harder to take than anger.”
Gabi thought about that. “Yeah. I get it.”
“You do?”
“I do. It’s hard to let down people who believe in us – especially if they had faith when nobody else did… not even ourselves.”
Aidan nodded.
“So how’d you end up in Denver?” she asked.
“Total fluke, really. I landed in a rehab place out this way and just stayed.”
“That’s how you got sober? In rehab?”
“Yeah. I went in to rehab back in Texas about a year after I got my ass canned by the DEA, but I didn’t like that place or its philosophy and nothing really stuck. I heard about this center in Colorado Springs and got myself on a plane a few weeks later. I was lucky, ‘cause this place really worked for me. I stayed for eight months and came out strong and sober.”
“Thank God.”
“Yeah, I know. That was six years ago and I have no desire to go back to Texas at all. I love Colorado and I love Denver and I just started again here.” He shrugged. “This is home now.”
Killer Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 3) Page 11