Payton patted her hip holster. It felt good and weird to be wearing it again.
They chatted a bit more, then she walked him to the door, flipped the lock and armed the security system. She was actually surprised the whole house wasn’t rigged with cameras, then again, for all she knew, it was and no one was telling her. It probably said something about her that the idea didn’t even make her pause. If someone was tasked with watching her, she hoped they were enjoying the show.
Payton went back to the kitchen, nosing around the bags Tate had left for her to unload.
Most of it was staple foods that wouldn’t go bad, but he had picked up a few things she’d asked for.
Luzianne tea bags.
Chocolate chip cookie dough.
Graham cracker teddy bears.
A tub of icing.
She was going to drown her sorrows in sugar, just the way she liked to.
Beep. Beep.
Payton’s head snapped up. She tilted her head to the side.
Which alarm was that?
She put her hand on her gun.
It could just be Tate...
She crossed to the alarm system control pad. It was a monster of a system, including external cameras. She tabbed through—
The backyard.
She didn’t know who he was, but he shouldn’t be there.
Payton drew her weapon and flicked the safety off.
The back door rattled.
She blew out a breath, pivoted and brought her gun up, aiming at the single glass pane set into the patio door.
“Wow—Payton!” The hoodie-wearing figure at the door held up his hands.
“Chaz?” She holstered her weapon and jogged the short distance to the door.
She got the door unlocked and muttered curses at the alarm system.
“Lock that.” She darted back to the security system and punched in the code.
What—how—why?
Payton blew out a breath, every fiber of her body alert to the man across the room. She turned, putting her back against the wall and stared at him.
“What are you doing here? You can’t be here.” If Tate came back and found Chaz here, he couldn’t leave. She hated that he was in danger because of her.
“I got your note.” He held the crumpled pages in his hands.
Oh...no...
She couldn’t look at him.
Payton swallowed.
Chaz stalked toward her.
The loudest sound in the room was her heart beating.
Shit. She should have fled the state. The continent. Maybe booked a trip into outer space. The way Chaz was looking at her now... Her whole body trembled. She’d tried for a mix of humor and honesty in that letter, but the truth was leaving him, giving up the one constant she could rely on in her life, was going to break her.
He braced his forearm on the wall and leaned in, his big, hazel eyes gone almost totally green.
That was never a good sign.
She licked her lips and glanced at the door. Could she duck out?
She wasn’t brave enough to say goodbye to his face. Not when he looked like this. Not when he was going to... Well, she didn’t know what he was going to do, but whatever it was, it would change things.
He wrapped her hair around his hand and gently tugged, forcing her to look at him.
Her heart pulsed in her throat. She could barely breathe.
Why wouldn’t the ground just open up and swallow her whole?
He leaned in, his mouth gentle.
For a moment.
He pressed his body, his lips, against hers, the kiss taking on a decidedly pissed off edge. He bit her lip and tightened his grip on her hair until her roots prickled, at that odd stage of pleasure and pain.
“You don’t get to just leave.” His voice was rough, a barely human growl.
The whisper of paper hitting the floor made her flinch. She thought she was doing the right thing.
“I didn’t—”
“You know why I didn’t go with you yesterday? Do you want to know?” He stroked the side of her face. He was all around her, overwhelming her senses, robbing her of what little strength she’d mustered since getting in Tate’s SUV.
Payton swallowed. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to really know Chaz’s thoughts. They might...undo her.
“How long have you been a federal officer?” he asked.
“S-since I was...twenty-five.” It’d taken time. She’d had to finish school, training, and during the interim, she’d gotten her feet wet working with the police. Though she’d worked for the DEA, it hadn’t been in an official capacity until she was sworn in at twenty-five.
“Seven years? But you started when you were—what? Nineteen?”
Payton nodded. That sounded right.
“I’m a fire fighter, Payton. I’m not a cop. I’m not an officer. What the hell was I supposed to do here, besides get in the way? You don’t need me to handle this. You...you need a home to come back to when this is over. That’s why I stayed.”
Oh... She stared into the depths of his eyes, pieces of herself breaking apart and coming back together. Shifting.
“You’re amazing, you know that? You’ve never tried to be anything but what you are. You’re a strong woman, and I won’t pretend that you need me to protect you, even though that...that’s...I’ll deal.”
“Chaz—”
“I’m not finished.” She recognized that stubborn anger. Loved it. He wouldn’t be stopped or dissuaded from saying exactly what he meant to say. “It’s always been you, Payton. I’m an idiot. I never saw it until now.”
The only thing keeping Payton upright was him. How could she walk away after this? Ever since they were teens, laying under the stars, their souls quietly communing, knitting their hearts together, she’d known she loved him. That he was special. She’d hoped, for his sake, that he’d never realize it. He’d find someone else. Someone normal. Who could...be like Martha. Kind. Sweet. Stable.
“I love you, Payton. And if you think you’re going to walk away from me, I’ll hog tie you to the bed.”
Oh...God...
That was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to her.
She buried her face against his head and sobbed, because she wasn’t strong enough to do what was best for him. She was selfish and she knew it. There was no walking away from what he offered, because when it came to Chaz she would always be weak. He was her blind spot. Her Achilles’ heel. And she didn’t want to give him up.
“Hey. Hey?”
Chaz’s hold gentled. He cupped her face, forcing her to look up at him.
This big, strong, always-grumpy man loved her. Why? She was a mess, even at her best. He was a clean freak. She left stuff wherever. He was dependable, solid. She was a terrible flake. They were so completely different and wrong for each other.
His lips pressed to her cheeks, drying her tears, kissing them away.
Maybe they worked because they were opposites? She needed his stalwart reliability and he needed her bat-shit crazy. He was for sure getting the short end of the stick as far as she could see. She couldn’t push him away. Not when he’d followed a US Marshal just to find and break into her safe house.
She gripped the front of his hoodie in both hands, pulling him closer and tipping her chin up. His fingers feathered over her face, far too gentle for a man of his size. She gripped his wrist and tried to stand on tip-toes, but she didn’t have the strength left to struggle against his hold.
Chaz kissed her, sweet and soft this time.
She didn’t deserve him, but she wanted him. Whatever he’d give her, she wanted it. Maybe that was sad and pathetic to think that she was willing to live on the table scraps of his attention, but it was the truth.
No one had ever loved her like Chaz. Had ever treated her like him. It never mattered what she did, the disaster he thought she was, he was always there for her. Quiet. Strong. Chaz.
And he loved her.
Payton pressed her lips against his, harder, needing more. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. His hands tangled in her hair, his warmth seeping into her, thawing her out.
“You were going to leave me.” The anger must have burned off. He sounded as heartbroken and lost as she’d felt.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whispered against his cheek. “I thought it was better that way.”
“How could it be better that way?” His lips trailed across her jaw, down to her neck. He tugged her head back, giving him better access. “You know damn well we’d go crazy without each other.”
It was true. Without him, she’d have no anchor. Nothing to tie her moral compass, nothing to bring home the fact she wasn’t the person she pretended to be. That underneath it all, she was Payton Harris, the girl who slept down the hall from a grumpy, football-playing-fireman-to-be that never went easy on her. He’d call her on her fuck ups, but never held them over her head. He’d be there for her when no one else would. He was the one constant thing in her life that she could love—and be loved by.
He slid his thigh between hers, his stubble scraping her cheek.
“I’m sorry, Chaz.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry.” He gently bit her shoulder, a weirdly possessive action that pleased her. Chaz might play at being the polite, southern gentleman, but she knew the truth. His caveman antics. The way they only were together. “I want to hear that we have a chance. That you want me, too.”
“I do.” She hiked her leg over his hip, grinding against him, watching his face for any twinge of pain. “I want you, Chaz.”
The words I love you stuck in her throat.
There’d be no going back for her once she’d uttered them. Besides, the things he was doing to that spot on her neck.
Payton groaned and dug her fingers into his hoodie. It was too hot in here. Her whole body felt like it was throbbing. She needed him.
She pushed her hand past the waistband of his sweatpants and his underwear until she could grip his hard, hot length. He growled something against her shoulder, his hips flexing, pushing his cock into her hand.
“I need you, Chaz.”
Here. Now. Tomorrow. Forever.
Without him, she wouldn’t be herself.
“Fuck...Payton...” His voice was pained.
“Is your knee—?”
“It’s fine.” He laid his head on her shoulder, his face buried against her face.
“What?”
“I didn’t...plan for this.”
“No one does. This stuff just happens.”
Love wasn’t something you could order your way.
She stroked him from root to tip. It’d been—what? A day since they’d last been together? And if she didn’t have him inside of her soon—
“No. I...don’t have a condom. Babe, you’ve got to stop.” He groaned the last word.
“Oh.” Was that it? She swallowed, then licked her lips, her heart fluttering. If she couldn’t say it, if those words were still too tied up in her throat, she could show him. “We don’t need a condom.”
“I know. I just,” he cupped her mound, the bold action startling her for a moment. “I want you.”
God, she loved this obtuse man.
“I’m on birth control. We don’t need condoms, Chaz. Unless there’s something you haven’t told me?”
He went still.
“No. You mean, do I have something?” His hand stroked down her side to the hem of her shirt.
“Yeah.” Even if he did, they could...work around it. She swiped her thumb over the head of his cock, watching the way his muscles tightened, how his mouth opened.
“No. They did a full battery of blood work on me before surgery.” He slid his hand up under her shirt, cupping her breast.
“Good. Bedroom?”
“No.”
Chaz shoved her shirt and bra up. She gasped as the cool air teased her heated flesh. He covered one breast with his hand and licked the other. She leaned her head back against the wall, groaning.
She loved him.
There wasn’t going to be anything else between them.
Payton pushed his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock. It prodded her stomach, hard and ready.
“Chaz.” She arched her back as he twisted his fingers around her damp nipples.
“Yeah,” he whispered against her cheek. He gently squeezed her hip. “Where do you want this?”
This?
Well...
Oh.
Right.
Her gun.
Payton unclipped her holster and sat it in the mail bin attached to the wall, just under the slot. She let out a heavy breath.
She’d never been truly honest with any other man in her life. They only ever knew about one or the other side of her. Not both. The officer and the undercover. But Chaz did. And he accepted all of her, and everything that came with it. He didn’t try to protect her, he wouldn’t stand between her and her job, but he’d be there for her.
God, she loved this man.
Chaz kept kissing down her chest and stomach, completely unaware of the revelation going on inside her head. He was a man with a purpose. A mission. And she was going to enjoy this.
He tabbed open her jeans and jerked them down. She chuckled. His face was so serious, so stern.
She kicked out of her shoes and jeans, stomach fluttering.
She’d never... Not without condoms. But...this was right. Because when it came to Chaz...he was it.
Chaz stood, no wince or hesitation. He caught her around the waist, hoisting her up, back against the wall. She giggled, adrenaline and lust combining to make her crazy giddy. He kissed her, his tongue teasing hers, his erection drawing damp lines across her stomach.
Payton grasped his erection, sliding her hand up his length.
He hoisted her higher, breaking the kiss and allowing his dick to slip between them.
“You sure?” His voice was thick, raspy, forced.
Payton nodded. Words, speaking, they were beyond her. She needed him.
He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes staring straight into her soul. She felt the blunt head of his cock slide between her folds. A breath shuddered out of her. She shifted, rubbing against him. His cheeks sank in, his gaze gaining a hard, needy edge.
There.
He flexed his hips, pressing into her. Her stomach muscles tightened, but arousal and gravity made the penetration easy.
She twined her arms around his neck, groaning.
Chaz fit her.
He gripped her ass with both hands, holding her easily. He worked himself into her, a little at a time. She could see the restraint wearing on him, the way his lips thinned, the need staring back at her.
She drove her heels into his ass, forcing him deeper, harder.
“Fuck,” he muttered, bracing himself with one hand on the wall.
“Chaz.” She arched her back and rotated her hips.
This was need, pure and simple.
A joining of their bodies and souls in this one agreement.
They needed each other.
He kissed her, driving his tongue into her mouth and thrust. Hard. She gasped for breath as he filled her, again and again.
This was her Chaz.
Not a dream, not something she wanted.
He was hers. And now...he knew it. Just as she knew that no other man would ever touch her heart or body again. Just—Chaz.
Each thrust drove her higher on the wall, the textured drywall cool at her back. He bent his head to her neck, muttering sweet words or maybe curses. It was different this time, with nothing between them. Just the drag of flesh on flesh.
The tight spiral of desire within her coiled tighter and tighter.
She loved him.
He loved her.
After this case was over, they’d figure it out.
Her life wasn’t complete without him.
Chaz pistoned into her, harder. She
moaned, digging her nails into his shoulders, hanging on.
He was the only man who’d ever touched her heart, and now her body.
She would forever be—his.
“Chaz,” she drew his name out, the tide of pleasure cresting, her abdominal muscles tightening.
“Payton.” He gasped, lifting his head from her shoulder to stare deep into her eyes. “I feel you. Come on, babe.”
She groaned, moaning his name.
He pressed his forehead against hers, watching every second of her orgasm, feeling it with nothing between them.
Chaz groaned, muttering more words, his thrusts rough, uneven. She tightened her hold on his shoulders, moving her hips with his. His body shuddered under her touch, warmth unfurling inside of her.
I love you.
Alice entered what had been Dion’s office and apartment. Brent had tasked two of the guys with the biggest mouths to empty it of Dion’s belongings. No doubt, they would see all of his personal items and come to the right conclusion.
They’d been following Dion into disaster.
Now Alice would lift them out of the ashes.
The remainder of Dion’s foot soldiers was gathered in what was now Alice’s office while the apartment aired out. There were only around twenty men, most in their early twenties, one or two closer to thirty, plus Dion’s two right hand men.
“I suppose you all know why we’re here today?” She strolled to the desk and set her clutch down.
A few shifted, looking anywhere but at her.
One coughed.
Only the two looked at her.
Even Brent was having a hard time. She needed him to get back to their lab, start cooking up some more product.
“Well?” She placed her hands on her hips and waited for some sort of answer.
“We’re here for marching orders.” Mikel, a bald, bearded man of mixed ethnicity stared at her. Good. She liked him. “Sir.”
Even better.
“Correct. Dion grew complacent. He lost your cache and stash. He was in debt with...everyone. Now, I was happy to work with Dion. I even offered to make him the sole distributor of my new product, but what did he do?” She turned, latching her gaze on the young man reclining on the sofa, bandages on his arm and leg. He was sweating. Infection had likely set in and without a real doctor he would die, but no one was willing to take him in. Oh well. He was a symbol now. A piece of the former dynasty.
Up in Smoke (Firehouse Three, #4) Page 14