“I’m powerless,” I whisper, hands nestled in my armpits.
She nods. “Feeling powerless is also about what’s in here.” Her hand moves over my heart.
I tell her I’m well aware of that, and she can do whatever she wants to me. She nods again, this time with a sly glint in her eye.
“You’re so damn sexy, Autumn.”
“I know,” she responds, pinching my nipple.
I’ve found my weakness—a strong woman.
I kiss her neck, euphoric from the pressure of her body set to mine, a sensation like screwing without a condom. Skin to skin, the coconut oil forms an excellent glide. She’s comfortable, I’m comfortable, and she wants to do all the work. Outercourse is spectacular. She’s spectacular.
“You’re so hard,” she whispers in my ear.
I get high on her arousing words and lost in her breasts swaying over my chest. She leans back and grips my knees, her mouth slightly open, body fueled with excitement. My legs straighten, and hips rise off the sofa. I exhale her name and inhale the scent of her sex. Her mouth curves into a loving smile, her lush lips sending me over the edge. She swings forward and strokes my dick, causing a tremor to explode up my chest. I manage to say Autumn about a hundred times before the rush of my orgasm releases onto my stomach. I rest my hand over my heart to keep it from breaking out of my chest, feeling every gushing beat.
“Autumn.” I huff, looking directly at her.
“Breathe, Dylan. Breathe.” She kisses my forehead and heads to the kitchen, returning with a wad of paper towels.
I’d move to help her clean up, but I can’t. Really, I can’t.
“I got it,” she says. “Stop panting so hard. You’ll get stuff on the sofa,” she teases.
My laughter feels good, a lightness in my mind after days of unrest.
She gets up and puts the towels in the trash, then opens the floor-to-ceiling blinds, carefree about the people on the street seeing her naked. She gives her telescope a spin and turns back to me. Amid the snow cascading outside the window, and her skin glittering in the golden glow of the city, she looks like a sequined queen.
“All good, Dylan?” She lights a cigarette and gives me a smoky kiss.
“On the mend, Autumn.”
“Perfect.” She places the cigarette between my lips, offering a drag before setting it in a fancy glass dish on the coffee table. Her nipples return to light pink, and the flush on her cheeks fades to white.
“Totally on the mend. Sit down.” I pat my legs.
She straddles my hips and wraps her arms around my shoulders, grazing the nape of my neck. It tickles more than soothes, sensitivity from the orgasm. Still, I enjoy it because it’s coming from her.
I slide two fingers along her inner thigh and up between her legs, but she captures my wrist before my fingers move inside her.
“Still good?” she asks.
I take my hand away, hearing the catch in her voice. She rubs her upper arms, somewhat timid.
Then she asks me again. “Still good?”
I don’t answer. I kiss the heart tattoo on her finger while looking into her eyes.
“What is it, Dylan? Should I drive you home now that you got what you wanted?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then what?”
I clasp my hands behind her back. “It’s what you said in the shower, about maybe falling in love with me.”
“Yeah?”
“I feel it. Something’s happening between us. I’m right there with you.”
Probably shouldn’t have said it right after sex, or could’ve said it differently, but at least her response is what I’d expect from a kick-ass girl like Autumn…
“You’d better be.”
21
“So let me get this straight.” Sean rubs his eyes after emerging from his dark bedroom, Riley glued to his side. “You spent the night with Autumn, but didn’t talk about her dad or the mayor? What about Eddie? Or those guys who picked you up at the lake?”
“You asked me these questions yesterday, and the answer is still no.” I turn away from them and look in my bedroom mirror, trying to fix my tie. “Autumn and I made out and then we got drunk. I didn’t want to bring up all that other junk and ruin a great time together.”
They sit cross-legged on my bedroom floor like a couple of kids, staring up at me like I’m about to tell them a bedtime story. I’m not. I’m busy getting dressed for the mayor’s Post-Valentine’s-Shindig-Thingamajig. I have no time for questions about people like Cockeyed Eddie. I’m keeping Autumn in my head, no one else tonight but her.
“Look at that huge smile on his face.” Riley elbows Sean.
“I’m not smiling.” I draw in my lips.
“Get real. You haven’t stopped smiling since Autumn brought you home yesterday morning,” Sean says. He holds his feet and rocks incessantly.
“Do you mind? A little privacy would be great.” I lift my chin, concentrating on getting my tie the correct length. It’s my third try, coming out short each time. I’d have it by now if they’d stop yapping. “I said, do you mind?”
“No, we don’t mind.” Riley flips her hair and kisses Sean on the cheek. “It’s fun watching you get all dolled up.”
I give her the finger, and she laughs, always giddy after they fuck. And it must’ve been a good one because her black curly hair that usually reminds me of licorice twists has taken on the shape of lightning bolts, and Sean’s dressed only in his boxers and a trapper hat. I’m afraid to ask if it’s a sex thing—the mountain woodsman look.
“Then what did you and Autumn talk about?” Riley asks.
“We talked about my job at the bar, and then a little about her job.”
“What does she do?” Sean asks.
“She has a degree in criminal justice.”
“No way.” He leans forward. “Nuh-uh.”
“Finally, I got this damn tie right.” I sweep my hand down my chest and slip into my jacket, rushing down the stairs to escape his questions.
“Dylan, hold up.” Sean darts after me, Riley a step behind. “Criminal justice? You’re joking. Is she a cop?”
“She was.”
“What?” He grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “You’re dating a cop!”
“No. Stop it.” I wrench away. “For six months she was, back when she was twenty-one. But she quit because the men on the force were sexist pigs.”
“No.”
“Yes, they were. Just think about being in a squad car with Ed every day. He’d be such an ass. I’d quit, too.”
“No, I mean, no way, you’re dating a cop!”
“She’s not a cop, Sean.”
“Well, what is she then? FBI?”
“Get real.”
“A security guard? What?” His voice thunders through the house. “Don’t tell me she quit and wasted her degree. I won’t believe you if you say that. I’ll follow her and find out what she does.”
“I wouldn’t if I were you.”
“Why?”
“Just drop it.”
“No. What if she’s lying? What if she’s still a cop and building a case against us? What if she’s using you? What if—”
“Don’t go nuts on me. She’s not building a case against us.”
I knew he’d flip. I knew because I did, too. But I was cool after she explained her new job.
“This doesn’t bother you?” he asks. “You find out she’s the police commissioner’s daughter”—he smacks the back of his hand into the palm of the other—“and that she screwed the mayor. And if that wasn’t enough, she used to be a cop?” Smack. “You’re asking for it.” Smack. “This is crazy!”
I open the front closet and pull out my black dress boots, taking a seat on the stairs to put them on.
“Autumn doesn’t have the personality to take orders from anyone. She needs to be in control and do her own thing.”
“Whi
ch is what?” He grips the earflaps on his hat, tugging them downward in a left-right motion. He looks at Riley, but she’s staying out of it. “Spit it out. What’s she doing now?”
“She has her own business.”
“Doing what?”
“She needs more experience to get credibility, and I guess she’s working on a case that’s going to help her in the long run.”
“Doing what?” He crosses his arms. “Doing what, Dylan? She can’t make enough just being a snitch.”
“In a way she can.” I slide to the edge of the step, hands folded in my lap. “She does surveillance work.”
“For the cops?”
“For people … and yeah, sometimes for the cops.” Surveillance is a fitting word to use without scaring him with a label like “private investigator.”
“Legally?” he asks.
“Yep. She gathers evidence for divorce cases and searches for missing people. And she recovers stolen property, like the mayor’s wife’s car.”
“But you haven’t pushed for more details about who the guy was who stole the car?”
“I will. It wasn’t the right time.”
“That’s cool,” Riley chimes in. “Can I hire her to find a blazer I lost last fall?”
I roll my eyes and turn back to Sean. “Autumn eavesdrops for the cops for drug-related crimes. And she’s sometimes hired as a witness, just for being on the scene when something happens.”
“You mean like when we killed those guys at the party? For fuck’s sake, Dylan. Open your eyes!”
“She’s not against us, Sean.”
“Well, what’s surveillance? Like a private eye? Did her dad get her that job or does she work for the mayor? Who’s behind this?” He smacks his palm again. “Man, oh man. I wouldn’t go to that party tonight if I were you.”
“Autumn doesn’t work for anyone. She’s a rebel.”
He shakes his head. “That chick’s devious, out there in the city, pretending to be a snitch.”
“Chill.” I stand up and put on my coat. “She’s not pretending. That bust was part of a case she’s working on with Rick. He’s using her as a snitch, like us, but she’s in it for reasons of her own, not theirs.”
“I smell horseshit, that wasn’t Rick’s district. She’s a tricky, sneaky…”
“Stop it.” I smell my wrist, making sure the dab of cologne I put on isn’t too overwhelming.
“Sean, leave him alone,” Riley says. “He’s in love and looks happy for once.”
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t leave him alone.” He raises his hands, palms up. “A guy can’t think straight when he’s got his dick inside a girl. A guy can’t think at all when his heart is stuck in there, too. Guys can’t even tie their shoes when they get carried away in love.”
I look down at my shoes and tip them sideways. “Mine are tied just fine.”
“Wait, are you in love or just screwing her?” he asks.
“I never said we slept together.”
“That’s not an answer. Wait, what? How come you haven’t screwed?” He closes his eyes and waves his hands. “Hold on.” His eyes shoot open. “Are you in love? Answer that question first.”
I light a cigarette and smirk. A knock at the door saves me from having to continue with the interrogation.
“I’ll get it. Let me, let me.” Riley dashes past us. “I’m dying to see her dress.” She opens the door and pulls Autumn inside. “Hi. Wow. Super hot outfit. Where’d you get it?”
Autumn’s black wool coat is unbuttoned to show off a stylish black dress, the top snug, with intricate lace from her cleavage to the neckline, the bottom flaring at the knees over burgundy tights.
“Online,” Autumn replies.
“Are the sleeves long or short?” Riley snoops inside her coat to see.
“Short and capped,” she answers.
“Oooh, and they’re velvety like your scarf. I love it.”
“Thanks. By the way, I’m Autumn.” She holds out her hand, showing off a fingerless sequin glove.
“Oooh, pretty.” Riley blinks, running her fingers over it. “I’m Riley.” They shake.
“You look gorgeous,” I say, kissing her on the cheek. Her hair is in a bun with copper strands framing her face. Her makeup is light, using a hint of mascara and eyeliner, the focus on her burgundy lipstick.
Sean steps in. “Make sure you notice his tie.” He swings it back and forth. “Took him an hour to get it on.”
“Leave us alone, would you?” I make him step aside. “I feel like my parents are hovering over my prom date.”
Autumn straightens my tie and stares longingly at my face. “The tie matches your gray eyes perfectly. You look super handsome, babe. Ready?”
“Have him home by midnight,” Sean says, half-joking, half-serious.
“He’ll be home by ten.” Autumn pulls me out the door, giggling. “Ten in the morning. Don’t wait up.”
Riley pulls Sean back inside when he starts to follow. “ Stay here. He’ll be fine without you.”
He kicks the doorframe. “Be home tonight, or you’re grounded, mister. No TV, no video games, no nothing!” He slams the door, but a second later I hear his playful laughter from inside.
“He’s entertaining. It’s good to have a few close friends.” She tosses me the keys to her silver Forester, and I scoop them out of the air with one hand. She stands next to the passenger-side door, waiting for me to open it for her. I hold her hand as she settles into the seat, making sure she doesn’t slip in her heels. It drizzled today, a whopping forty-two degrees, turning the snow to slush and uncovering month’s old ice.
“You haven’t mentioned any … any friends, I mean.”
“My friends are now my enemies.” She steals the cigarette from my fingers, swinging her legs inside the car. “The guys on the force and the people I used to call friends—the ones who work in the government offices around my loft—they think I’m a traitor.” I glance at her, and something flares in her eyes. “But it doesn’t bother me,” she adds. “I’ll be respected and loved once I shed a little light on a certain situation. People will wake up to the truth eventually.”
I close her door and walk to the driver’s side, questioning what all that means.
Her seat is still warm when I drop inside, hot air blasting from the vents when I start the engine.
She tells me the address as I pull away from the curb. Referred to as Millionaire’s Row, the area is about three miles from here, in the heart of the city.
“You excited?” she asks.
“Yep, a nervous excitement. I haven’t done anything like this in a while.” I tug my coat sleeve down and shift anxiously in the seat.
“Dressing like a gentleman means you have to behave like one.” She tilts her head and smiles. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”
I laugh. “It’s a challenge. Lowly Polish guys don’t go to the Mayor’s Mansion for parties with the police commissioner’s daughter.”
“No?” She raises a brow.
“Lowly men from Northland don’t go anywhere; except to work and out to the bars, maybe to football and hockey games, sometimes to pool halls or bowling to pick up chicks.”
“Bowling, to pick up chicks?” She leans in and places the cigarette in my mouth. “I’m skeptical about that. Bowling and finding a date don’t seem to go hand in hand.” She takes the cigarette away after I inhale. “Did you tell your friends what I do?”
“Yeah, and Sean had the same reaction as me.”
“Well, like you, he’ll get over it.”
“I’m not entirely over it.” I tug my tie down, feeling choked. “I should’ve asked you more about the party. Do we dance, or eat, or what’s happening tonight?”
“It’s a social event, so yeah, dancing and eating.” She cracks the window. “Can you dance?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, there’ll be lots of important people to min
gle with, people in high government positions, like my dad. The last two years I went solo, and before that, I used to go with my parents. It’s the first time I’ve had a date.”
“You didn’t go with Nick before?”
“Hell no.” She clutches her coat closed at her chest. “Nick didn’t take me out in public.”
“That should’ve been a red flag.”
“Yes, it should’ve been, except spending time with a guy who’s in a powerful position can make a woman’s head spin. Being starry-eyed got the best of me. Or maybe”—she presses her fingers to her lips—“it flushed out the worst in me.”
I wait for her to elaborate. Then have to ask when she doesn’t. “How so?”
She shrugs. “I’m not going to bore you with all the details. I just made a bad decision, that’s all.”
I keep a blank expression and try to appear uninterested, but I’m aching to find out. Typically, former bed buddies are meaningless. But it’s clear there’s something off about this Nick guy.
“Do you talk to him a lot?” I ask.
“Only when necessary.”
“But he invited you tonight?”
“I got an invite, as always. Either Nick’s wife or his assistant compiled the list. And before you ask, no, his wife doesn’t know I was with him.”
“With him, how? Was this a long-term relationship or just a casual fling?”
She snubs the question. “Nick always looks for me at these parties. He expects me to show.”
“Why’s that?”
She pivots in her seat, putting her hand on my forearm. “He knows I enjoy nosing around. It’s the perfect social event for someone in my line of work, but dreary when I get hit on. And single women always get hit on.” Her hand slips away. “One time, a guy asked me if I wanted to boink in one of the hallway closets. He said that, Dylan. Boink. Does that turn you on? Would hearing that word turn anybody on?” She leans back, waving her finger ahead. “Don’t miss the turn … here, make a right.”
“No worries. I got it.”
She flips down the passenger-side visor to check her hair. “The party is in a big ballroom in the back of the mansion, and the drinks are out of the way in an enclosed back patio. I haven’t seen many other rooms. Nick and I didn’t screw here, in case you’re wondering.”
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