by Jules Court
“Then why did you tell everyone you did it? Why did you lie for me?”
“Because I was the bad girl. You were going away to college. You would have forgotten all about me. We would have seen each other on holidays and family dinners, but why would you still want to hang out with me? This tied us together. You needed me. And when I covered for you, I made sure you’d never leave me. I told myself I was doing something good, but the truth was I wanted to have something to hold over you. I knew it even then.”
“I didn’t have to let it happen. I should have tried harder to make them believe me.”
Sara gave a bittersweet smile. “Coulda, shoulda, woulda” she said. “Life’s too short. Maybe it’s time we put the past in the past.”
“Can we do that?” Could she really just put it all behind her and start fresh?
“We can try,” Sara said. She pulled Priya into a fierce hug. When they finally separated, she said, “So, you and the cop? You know red-haired dudes can go so very wrong, like that creepy-looking guy with the corpse lips—you know, the one who was in that movie where we had to listen to Russell Crowe sing? Never mind. The point is your cop’s more of a Prince Harry.”
“He’s not my cop. He just, we just...”
“Most of the guys I’ve slept with wouldn’t even call me a cab. Trust me. This guy is into you for more than the sex.”
Priya wiped at the moisture that had accumulated at the corner of her eyes. “Why are you giving me dating advice? I thought prison was supposed to make you hard.”
“Oh, I’ll cut a bitch if he steps out of line, don’t worry about it,” Sara said. Her face turned serious. “It’s probably going to be a long time before this whole thing goes to trial. The DA’s office is going to relocate me until then. You’re going to be on your own. But you don’t have to be.”
“Sara—”
“Just let me believe that you’ll be happy. That way I can feel good about all this.”
“I’ll try.”
“Promise me?”
“I promise,” she said, even as she wondered if she knew how to.
* * *
Brian decided that calling in a favor from Officer Tricia D’Agastino, who wouldn’t be shy about holding it over his head, was definitely worth it when he stepped back into the hotel room and received a glowing smile from Priya. She was seated on the bed next to her cousin, who was telling a story, her hands flying along with her speech. Priya looked luminous, as though lit up from within, and suddenly it scared him how badly he wanted her to remain like that.
“Time to go,” he said. “And you were never here,” he added.
“When can I see Sara again?”
“You can’t. Officer D’Agastino did me a huge favor this one time, but it can’t happen again. Sara’s going to be moved tomorrow and they’re not telling me where because I don’t need to know. And neither do you.”
“Just a different type of prison now,” Sara said.
“You know what happens when you lie down with fleas,” he said.
“What crawled up your ass?” Sara asked. Priya tapped Sara on the arm, and Sara grumbled but desisted. “Whatever.”
They hugged goodbye, and Sara said to Priya, “Tell my mother I love her.”
“I will.”
It wasn’t until they were in the elevator that Priya spoke to him. “I’m sorry if I got you in trouble. Thank you so much for taking me to see Sara.”
“You didn’t get me trouble. I make my own decisions.”
“But you did this for me. Why?”
Because he was an idiot who’d fallen head over heels for a woman he’d known for a handful of days. He shrugged.
“I’m tired,” she said.
“I’ll take you home.”
“I’m too tired to fight anymore. Is it okay...is it okay if I just need you for a little while? I can be strong tomorrow.”
He opened his arms and she walked into them. Right where she belonged.
“Can we not talk? I think I’m all talked out,” she said.
“That might be hard for me,” he said in a halfhearted attempt at humor.
“I’ll make it easier,” she said just before she went up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
* * *
The drive back to Brian’s place was exquisite torture for Priya and, she suspected, Brian as well. Although neither spoke, the air between them throbbed with tension. It was like being in an enclosed space with combustible gas—one tiny spark and they’d go up in flames.
Priya watched Brian’s profile as he drove. The headlights from the passing cars splashed across his face, raising shadows and revealing hollows in the planes of his face, rendering him mysterious. There was still so much she didn’t know about him and probably never would.
She sat on her hands to keep from touching him or herself. Not yet, even though between her legs, she ached. But this time she would wait, extending that exquisite agony.
His knuckles were white where they gripped the steering wheel, his mouth set in a firm line. No smiling or joking from him now.
By the time he pulled up to the curb in front of his building, there wasn’t an inch on her body that didn’t pulse with need. Her nipples were hardened into sensitized peaks. When she exited the car, her movement caused them to brush against her shirt. She gripped the car door tight to steady herself. Wordlessly, Brian walked around the car and took her hand to lead her inside.
They’d barely made it through his doorway before he was yanking off her T-shirt. She raised her arms to help. He tossed her shirt to the side and turned to flick on the overhead light. When he turned back to her, his green eyes blazed with intensity. Suddenly, it was though she was seeing the true Brian. What really lay behind the easy smile and easier jokes.
His hands were sure as he nimbly unhooked her bra and slid it from her body. She straightened her shoulders and thrust her breasts out in front of her. Tonight there would be only pleasure. No shame, no guilt, just freedom.
She peeled his shirt off and tossed it to land next to hers, revealing his taut muscled chest. She leaned forward and swiped his nipple with her tongue, causing him to tangle a hand in her hair. She stroked his satiny skin, over bone and muscle, and down the flat plane of his stomach, the muscles jumping under her touch.
He pulled her into him, crushing her breasts against his chest, his head diving down to capture her mouth in a blazing kiss. While their tongues danced together, she slid a hand to the waistband of his jeans and lower. He ground his thick erection against her. She popped the button on his jeans and thrust her hand inside to grab his cock. It was like hot velvet. She gave it an appreciative stroke.
Brian tore himself away, but only to shove his jeans down and kick them off to stand naked in front of her.
As a doctor, she was no stranger to the human body. But there was nothing clinical about her reaction to Brian’s nudity. Nothing dispassionate in the rush of moisture between her legs, or the burn of desire deep in her belly. “This is your iliac crest,” she said, dropping a kiss on his hipbone. She traced the muscles of his abdomen, the names of which she’d memorized from medical texts. “And these are your obliques and the transverse abdominis.” A crisp line of hair began under his belly button and marched down to where his cock jutted out proudly. Her hand closed around it and gave a little squeeze that caused him to shudder.
“And this, this is mine,” she said.
“Then take it,” he said hoarsely.
She dropped to her knees and sucked him into her mouth in a move that, for the first time, felt natural and right. His hand fisted in her hair. It was all the encouragement she needed. She flicked her tongue over his head and sucked him deeper into her throat, tasting salt and man.
When she cupped his balls with one hand, rollin
g them gently, he groaned. She wanted him just as crazy with desire as she was. She swirled her tongue around his cock as she sucked him in and out, reveling in the warmth and hardness of his cock in her mouth, and the sound of his harsh breathing as she took him higher. She paused for a breath, sliding him out of her mouth, and he sprang into action.
He scooped her up and dropped her on the sofa. With zero finesse, he shoved her shorts and panties down her legs. Fire shot through her veins and her belly clenched with needy anticipation. He wrenched her knees apart and dropped down before them. The first touch of his warm and wet tongue and she almost came on the spot.
He licked and sucked with ruthless single-mindedness. There was no inch he didn’t worship with his hands and mouth and tongue. He tugged her down a bit more, easing her knees wider until she was open and vulnerable. Her hands clenched in his hair, simultaneously holding him closer and pushing him away.
He pulled back, kissing a line up her stomach, lingering on her breasts. He added his hands to his lips before bringing his head up to look at her. “Stand up. Bend over the arm of the sofa,” he said in a raspy voice.
On trembling legs, she moved. Standing behind her, he placed a palm between her shoulder blades and urged her forward. His cock nudged against her backside. He thrust a knee between her legs, spreading her wider.
“Don’t move,” he said.
From her position bent over the sofa, head hanging down, legs open wide, exposed, she felt rather than saw him leave. She heard the rustle of his jeans and then the sound of a condom packet being torn open. And then his cock was nudging at her wet entrance. A slight pressure and then he slid all the way in.
The first few strokes were slow, teasing. She needed more. She reached back to try to pull him forward. But Brian stayed just out of her reach, continuing with the gentle movement that would surely drive her insane. She clenched the sofa cushions.
He pressed his chest against her back and kissed the nape of her neck. She shivered with sensation. He pulled back but only to thrust back into her. Her exhale turned into a choked moan. He thrust harder and deeper, again and again, driving her mad until she thought she couldn’t take any more.
“Let me give you a hand,” he said, and placed a finger on her engorged clit.
“That’s a terri—oh—terrible—fuck—pun,” she tried to get out between waves of pleasure. And then she couldn’t think at all because she was coming. He let out a groan and shuddered against her.
When he pulled out, her vagina fluttered in response. Even after such a powerful orgasm, her body was desperate to hold on to him. Before she could come to her feet, he scooped her up in his arms. She allowed her head to fall against his chest.
Wordlessly, he carried her into his bedroom and placed her gently on his bed. When he settled next to her, he pulled her into his arms. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and said, “Sleep.”
“I like to sleep on my side. Will you...can you—”
“I’ll be big spoon.”
She drifted off to the feel of him pressed against her back, one arm protectively cradled over her. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe.
Chapter Fifteen
The heat had finally broken. Priya woke up in Brian’s bed, pleasantly warm instead of roasting in the seventh layer of Hell.
She pried her eyes open. She was alone. The heat wave had passed and with it her momentary fit of madness. What had she been thinking crawling into his bed last night? She wasn’t the type to have torrid love affairs. She possessed neither the time nor the wardrobe.
Sunlight slanted in through the blinds. What time was it? She was going to be late for rounds. She sprung up. Where the hell were her clothes? Then she remembered last night. Her clothes were strewn about the living room. Despite her panic, a tingle of desire pulsed through her.
And, now lying naked in his bed, the memory was almost enough to make her forget work. Her hand crept down to between her thighs.
A cheerful whistling alerted her to Brian’s approach. She yanked the sheets back up. He danced through the bedroom door, Dunkin’ Donuts in hand. “Large. No cream, no sugar,” he said.
She sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. “What time is it? I’m going to be late for work. I should go.” She scrambled from the bed, still clutching the sheet. “I’m just going to get my clothes. Yeah, I should go,” she rambled, backing away.
Brian held the coffee out. “It’s still wicked early,” he said.
But she darted past him and into the living room, scooping up her clothes. She pulled them on under the sheet while Brian stood in the bedroom doorway, watching her.
“You know I’ve already seen all that, right?” he asked.
But she was in full-blown flight mode and was out the door before she’d finished putting on her shoes.
Brian’s parting shot followed her. “Nice talk,” he said. “Glad we had it.”
* * *
Brian meticulously folded a piece of paper into a triangle football then flicked it directly at Danny’s head. Danny looked up from his paperwork, eyes narrowing in annoyance.
“C’mon, let’s take a ride to Southie and roust some of the Castle Hill Gang.”
“The Feds specifically told us to stay away,” Danny said. “It’s their case now.” He bent his head back down to his work.
Brian drummed his fingers on his desktop. If he didn’t get out of here he was going to explode. “We could swing by the morgue and see if they ever got an ID on that Jane Doe.”
Danny didn’t look up. “Already resolved. Finish your interrogation report,” he said.
Brian sighed. The more he attempted to focus on his paperwork, the more his thoughts kept circling back to this morning. When Priya ran from his bed as though he were just some regrettable one-night stand. Someone the harsh morning light revealed as a mistake.
“Yo, Mac,” Nelson called out across the squad room. “Got someone looking for you.”
He looked up and then did a double take. Priya stood in the entrance to the squad room dressed in scrubs and a white coat. She gave a hesitant wave. Her smile bloomed and then disappeared as she waited.
He finally motioned her forward. Let her come to him for a change. As she walked toward him, the other detectives didn’t bother to hide that they were blatantly checking her out. There wasn’t a cat alive more curious than a cop.
When she reached his desk, he said, “What can I help you with, Dr. Shah?”
“Can we talk in...ummm...” She paused and looked around before pitching her voice lower. “Is there someone we can talk in private?”
Even Danny, although pretending otherwise by staring at a piece of paper on his desk, was listening. Brian suddenly felt ashamed of his childish power play. “I’ll buy you a cup of terrible coffee,” he said. He stood up and motioned with his head. “Follow me,” he said.
He led her into the tiny break room, which was thankfully empty. He pulled the pot of black sludge off the burner. “Tar?” he asked.
She shook her head.
He put the pot back down and turned to lean against the counter, arms folded across his chest. “Sara’s okay,” he said. “They moved her again, but I don’t know where. The Feds are setting up a new identity for her and that’s not something they share with us.”
“Thank you,” she said. “But I didn’t come her to talk about Sara.”
Hope jumped up and down in his chest, but he schooled his features to impassivity.
She looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry about this morning.”
He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and touched her, tipping her chin up so he could look into those dark eyes. “Did you really come here just to apologize?”
* * *
Priya was more scared than the first time she’d intubated a
patient. She forced herself to keep looking into those green eyes that saw too much. All day she’d been haunted by her cowardly flight from his apartment. For so long all she’d ever wanted was to be a doctor, but as she walked down the hospital corridors, stethoscope and white-coat clad, it wasn’t enough anymore. Possibly because she was beginning to hope that she could have more.
When she checked her voicemail and heard her mother asking her to come to a family dinner on Friday, it seemed a sign that the universe wanted her to move forward. Her mother’s voice had sounded distant, lacking her usual warmth, but it was a start. Maybe, one day, now that there were no more lies between them, she might have a stronger relationship with her family. One where they knew her flaws and loved her anyway.
And if she could take that step forward with her family, then she could do this, too.
“My last relationship didn’t end so well,” she said. “I kind of committed a felony.”
“Then you need a cop around to keep a close eye on your deviant tendencies.” He dropped his hand from her chin. “But you’re going to have to say it.”
“Say what?” she breathed.
“Say you want to be with me.” There was no teasing in his voice. Instead she detected a hint of something she’d never suspected he possessed: uncertainty. Brian was afraid she might not want to be with him.
That tiny bit of vulnerability was enough to free her from the chains of fear. “I want to be with you.”
He responded by crushing her in his arms and kissing her until she felt it in her toes. When they finally broke apart, she noticed the audience. A handful of cops were clustered outside the break room door holding up pieces of paper that they’d written scores on. At least her and Brian’s kiss had merited more than one 10 from the judges. Her face heated up.