by Koko Brown
Laz glanced up from his desk and watched two guys in suits head to Sergeant Ford’s office. He recognized one of them as an internal affairs investigator. Hell, he should know all of them by now considering the number of times he’d been investigated, especially lately.
Knowing they were there for him, Laz grabbed his keys from the top of the desk and eased out the back door. He would answer their fifty-million questions, but not today.
THREE
Journey awkwardly shifted her laptop bag and a vase of roses in her arms as she pushed open the door to her condo. Maybe I should’ve accepted the doorman’s assistance when he offered to help carry some of this stuff.
Feeling the glass vase slipping from her grasp, she quickly set it on the tall table near the entrance and sighed with relief.
“Home sweet home,” she mumbled, flipping on the lights as she lowered her bag to the floor and then leaned against the door. “These long days have to stop.”
Undoing the ankle buckle on her shoes, Journey kicked off the footwear not caring that they landed in the middle of the floor. After the twelve-hour-day she had just put in, all she wanted to do was have a glass of wine, find something to eat, and then take a nice, long bubble bath.
In the living room, she shrugged out of her suit jacket, dropping it on the sofa as she strolled to the windows, relishing the feel of the plush carpet beneath her feet.
“This is worth every penny,” she said of the view outside. The stress of the day slowly slipping from her body.
She stared out into the night, admiring the twinkling lights of nearby buildings overlooking the Buckhead area. Her view from the twenty-fifth floor was breathtaking no matter the time of day. Moving in eight months ago, shortly after breaking up with her long-time boyfriend, Tony, Journey had fulfilled her goal of living in a high-rise. She would admit, she missed her ex, especially after being together two years. But their break-up was inevitable. He wanted marriage. She didn’t.
Journey startled when the intercom buzzed. It was after nine. Normally the doorman didn’t ring her up this time of night unless she had a visitor or food being delivered. She wasn’t expecting either.
She pushed the button on the wall near the door. “Yes.”
“Ms. Ramsey, sorry to bother you. A Detective Dimas is here to see you.”
Journey froze, her finger hovering over the speak button.
What the heck is he doing here?
“Ms. Ramsey?” the doorman called out.
“I’m sorry, Frankie. Please send him up.”
Journey glanced around. She quickly nudged her heels out of the middle of the floor, not caring that the pile of shoes in the foyer was starting to build. As she peered into the living room, she gasped at the clothing strewn on a chair, on the back of the sofa, and her chaise lounge. The cleaning lady came once a week and she certainly wasn’t magically appearing in the next thirty seconds to straighten up.
Just as she frantically began collecting her laundry, a knock sounded at the door.
Too late.
She set the items in the chair and did a quick glance in the mirror at her hair. She ran her fingers through her short, permed strands before trying to smooth the wrinkles from the tail of her blouse.
Oh, forget it. She yanked the door opened.
“I was wondering if you were ever going to answer.” Laz leaned against the doorjamb as if he didn’t have a care in the world, his striking eyes sparkling with mischief.
“What are you doing here?”
He pulled a small white bag from behind his back and the smell of meat, onions, and peppers delighted her senses. “Thought you might be hungry. Besides, I told you I’d catch you later,” he said in a just-woke-up-from-a-deep-sleep rasp. The sensuous tone reminded her of the night he’d come to her rescue. After calling in the crime, he had held her close, and the comforting words he whispered in her ear were soothing and calmed her until the EMTs arrived.
Journey opened the door wider and he entered. The fresh and clean scent of his cologne drifting past her nostrils almost made her moan.
God, he smelled good.
“I assumed when you said you would see me later that it was just an expression. A figure of speech. How’d you even know where I lived?”
She gave herself a mental slap the moment the words left her mouth. She rolled her eyes at the way his raised brows mocked her. There wasn’t much this man didn’t know or couldn’t find out.
He strolled into the living room looking around as if casing the joint. She was proud of her condo. Despite it not being overly neat, it was expertly decorated, comfortable and had killer views. She watched him stop in front of the windows.
“How long have you lived here?”
“What, you don’t know? You seem to know everything else.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “I could find out, but maybe I want to learn some things directly from you.”
She stared dumbfounded, unsure of what to say. Instead of responding, she walked the few steps into the kitchen.
“Though I didn’t invite you here, I guess I could at least offer you something to drink.” One of the things that attracted her to the fourteen-hundred square foot condominium was the open floor plan. She could stand in one spot and see everything except for the two bedrooms and two bathrooms. “I have water, juice, and wine.”
She looked back to find him eyeing her. One of her pet peeves was people who stopped by her place without calling first. Though she should be irritated, she had to admit it was kind of nice seeing him outside of work. Standing at over six feet tall and two-hundred plus pounds, with wide shoulders, and jeans just tight enough to show off thick thighs, she could look at him all day.
“I didn’t realize you were such a slob,” he cracked, snapping Journey out of her trance.
“You know what? You can leave.” She pointed her thumb toward the door, trying not to laugh even when he chuckled.
“Hey, don’t get mad at me because I speak the truth.” He sobered. “Who are the flowers from?”
She glanced toward the entrance though she couldn’t actually see the flowers from where she stood. Neither could he which amazed her. He’d only been in the foyer for a hot second, yet he’d probably noticed every single element in the space.
“How do you know I didn’t buy them?”
He chuckled again and moved away from the window. His gaze swept the open space, taking in the white, plush furniture and carpet before directing his attention back to her.
“One, they’re sitting by the door, haphazardly on the edge of the table. If you had bought them, they’d probably be in the center of that fancy dining room table, on the breakfast bar, or maybe on the sofa table.”
“Two,” he moved to the center of the living room, “this whole area is stark white except for a little black on the back splash in the kitchen. The roses jump out like blood splatter on white concrete. They don’t fit in.”
Journey just stared, fascinated by the way his brain worked. Sometimes in talking with him, it seemed as if everything was like a puzzle to him and he didn’t rest until each piece was in its place.
This was the first time she’d had a man, besides her father, in her new space and at the moment, she couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather have there.
The thought unnerved her, yet there was a little spark of excitement jockeying around inside her gut, but she pushed the feeling down. Laz had a reputation. Though she thought, no she knew, he was a good guy, there were rumors that he was a dirty cop. Those in law enforcement either liked or hated him. Very few people were in between. In her opinion he was a good detective whose intentions were honorable even if they weren’t always legal.
“And three,” Laz continued, now standing within reach of her.
Starting from the top of her head down to her bare feet, his eyes drank her in, inch by inch. All she could do was stand there and let him get his fill, her body heating everywhere his gaze landed. This man was a detrim
ent to her will-power and her brain function. Because with the way he was looking at her, and the lust racing through her body, all he had to do was say the word and she’d drop her panties in a heartbeat.
“You don’t strike me as a rose type of person. You’re more of a tulip or orchid type of woman.” He moved even closer. “You’re soft, delicate, yet sophisticated and damn if you don’t smell sweet.”
Journey swallowed. “How do you know I’m soft? You’ve never touched me,” she said quietly. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“Not because I haven’t wanted to.” He brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek and her eyes drifted close as she leaned into his touch. She reopened her eyes and seconds ticked by as they stared at each other, his gaze lingering on her mouth.
Laz cursed and mumbled something under his breath just before he lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers, making her mouth tingle.
Journey’s brain screamed for her to stop him right there, not to go any further, but her body ached for him. No way was she pushing this intriguing man away. She’d fantasized about them coming together more times than she could count. No. She wanted this. She wanted him.
His kiss was gentle and unhurried as his tongue explored the interior of her mouth, sending currents of desire lapping at every nerve in her body. She moaned when his arm went around her waist and he pulled her against his hard, powerful body. Her nipples beaded at the contact as the throb between her thighs increased. Not only was he the sexiest specimen she’d ever seen, but he could kiss too.
“God, Journey,” Laz groaned against her mouth and dropped his arm from around her waist as he lifted his head slightly. He didn’t want to stop any more than she wanted to. His eyes met hers as if asking permission to go further. She said nothing. Instead she placed her hand on his chest, fisting his T-shirt, and pulled him back against her body. That little sampling wasn’t nearly enough.
Laz cupped her face between his hands, succumbing to the gravitational pull that had been between them since the first time they’d met. He knew he should stop and back the hell away before he lost total control, but he had waited too long for this moment. He had waited too long to be this close to her without getting just a little taste. No way was he stopping.
God, she felt good and soft rubbed up against him. His hands slid down the sides of her body and lowered to her firm butt as he drank in the sweetness of her lips. He deepened the kiss, holding her closer knowing she could feel how hard she made him.
Journey moaned as his tongue danced with hers, familiarizing itself with every nook and cranny of her luscious mouth. All the desire he’d had pent up over the years to kiss her came to the forefront as he savored every moment. This connection exceeded his expectations and when her hands slid into his hair, he just about lost it. His body throbbed with need. But just as quick as the kiss started, common sense settled over him like a cold chill.
They couldn’t do this. He was no good for her. If she ever got involved with him, his reputation alone would ruin her good name. Laz couldn’t let that happen.
Knowing this, he reluctantly broke off the kiss, but was slow to release her. They were like two magnets molded together and it was almost impossible to pull away. He needed to…he should…but he couldn’t, at least not yet.
Journey took her time opening her alluring eyes and he easily got lost in the dreaminess of them. This woman had a hold on him that he couldn’t explain. And now that he’d kissed her, he was screwed. If she had any idea how much power she had over him, she could do some serious damage to his heart. Good thing she’d never know.
Laz dropped his hands and Journey visibly shivered before clearing her throat.
“Um, how about that drink?” She hurried away from him, pouring herself a glass of wine, and taking a huge gulp.
Laz released a noisy breath and ran his hands through his hair, glad to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their intense lip-lock. Making himself at home, he reached into the refrigerator, not surprised that there was very little food since she spent most of her days at the office. Yet, she had plenty to drink. He grabbed a bottle of water and moved to the other side of the long counter, where she’d set the burritos he’d brought.
He pointed at their food. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
He waited until she was seated at the breakfast bar before snagging the stool next to her. They ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. What he needed to do was find out what she’d been holding back from him earlier, but first he had to get his body under control. Only minutes ago, flames of desire consumed him like the hottest fire, singeing every cell within him. He hadn’t felt this worked up in a while. Sure, he’d been with plenty of women over the years, but not one had him ready to say to hell with everything in order to have her. He hadn’t felt like this since…not since Gwenn.
Don’t go there, Dimas. He definitely didn’t need to travel down that mental road.
“The flowers were from a client,” Journey said out of nowhere.
Laz nodded, not bothering to ask if the client was male or female. It was best he didn’t know.
“Are you ready to tell me what you wanted to say earlier?” he finally asked Journey, tossing the wrapper from his burrito into the trash. He poured more wine into her glass before grabbing another bottle of water for himself. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
She wrapped her hands around her wine glass and he could feel the tension bouncing off her.
“What’s wrong? Are you in trouble? Is it a case? Because whatever it is, I know it’s bothering you.” He touched her hand and she looked at him. “You can trust me. Tell me what happened.”
“Laz, I could lose my job or worse, be disbarred if I say anything right now.”
Okay, so this is serious.
“Is there something I can do to help?” he asked quietly. If she was in trouble, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do. He couldn’t explain his possessiveness when it came to her. He wasn’t even sure when his feelings for her had grown so strong.
“Be careful of the people around you,” she whispered, staring at her wine glass.
He stiffened. The words were spoken so quietly, he almost didn’t hear them.
“So this is about me?” he asked cautiously.
She gave a slight nod of her head before turning her troubled gaze in his direction. His heart squeezed. Not so much for himself, but for the worry he saw in her eyes. “I can’t tell you anything more yet, but for now Laz just…watch your back.”
FOUR
“What do you mean he kissed you? And you’re just now telling me?”
Journey pulled the cell phone away from her ear, smiling when her sister, Geneva, screamed. She was the only person in the world who knew about the crush Journey had on Laz. Now, based on the number of questions her sister was firing off, maybe she should’ve kept that bit of information to herself.
“Geneva, it’s no big deal. It’s just something that happened.” Journey leaned her hip against the counter in her office’s break room and ripped open a sugar packet, pouring it into her black coffee. She’d been at her desk for five hours straight and hadn’t accomplished anything thanks to thinking about Laz. That’s why she called her sister, hoping she could take her mind off of him. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen.
“Journey, this is a big deal. That kiss means your feelings for each other are mutual. Why the hell are you guys fighting this attraction?”
“We sorta work together and it would be weird on too many levels if we got together,” Journey whispered into the phone not knowing when someone would walk in. She didn’t bother telling her sister that getting with Laz would also be a bad idea because of his reputation. She had worked too hard to get where she was today to let poor decisions taint her efforts. And Laz would definitely be a poor decision. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
He was bad for her, but boy did she want him. The kiss they’d s
hared the other day had rocked her. Making her want so much more. How many times had she fantasized about what it would be like to be with him, cradled in his strong arms as they made love? That sampling the other day, when he’d kissed her senseless, assured her they’d be great together.
She hadn’t had sex in almost eight months, not since Tony, and her vibrator wasn’t getting the job done. Laz would be the perfect candidate to scratch the itch her equipment couldn’t reach. Would he think her too forward if she propositioned him? It could be a win-win situation since neither of them were the serious relationship type. At least she didn’t think he was. Then again, she really didn’t know all that much about him.
“Okay, sis. We’re not done with this conversation, but I have to go. My client just showed up.” As a hairstylist with a high-end clientele, Geneva stayed busy. Meaning with her own hectic schedule, they rarely saw each other.
“All right. I need to get going too. I have to be in court in a couple of hours. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Don’t talk to me, Journey. Talk to him! You know you want to.” Her sister disconnected before Journey could respond. As usual, Geneva was right. Journey did want to talk to Laz, but she would much rather kiss him again.
Journey grinned as she stuffed files into her briefcase, unable to keep the elation she felt deep down inside from showing on her face. She had just won a murder case for the state that she’d been working on for over a year. One of the most challenging cases of her career and she couldn’t stop smiling. After accepting several congratulatory praises from people filing out of the court room, she headed for the exit.
“Nice job, counselor,” someone said to her left. She glanced over at the row of wooden benches and her smile grew.
“Why thank you, David.” She and U.S. Attorney David Lassiter had attended law school together. While she worked at the state level, David worked at the federal level and was one of the best lawyers she knew. “I didn’t see you sitting over there. What brings you here?” she asked after they exchanged a hug.