Treacherous Seduction (The Rockford Security Series Book 3)

by Jones, Lee Anne

  He leaned against her, laying her back on the chaise and covering her body with his. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once—beneath her sweater, unclasping her bra, rubbing the heat between her legs through her jeans. So much, yet she still wanted more. He reached for the snap on her waistband, but she stopped him, covering his hand with hers.

  “Wait!” The words sounded as breathless as she was. “What if someone sees us?”

  “No one will see, baby.” He nuzzled her neck, the sensitive skin just below her ear. “Trust me. We won’t go too far, won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I just want to make you feel so good. I need to touch you, Shelby, just a little. Please.”

  His plea was her undoing. She released his fingers and kissed him deeply in response. He unsnapped her jeans then slid the zipper down with agonizing slowness. His fingers followed afterward, cupping her through her damp panties then stroking lightly.

  Shelby moaned, nipping his earlobe between her teeth. “That feels… that feels…”

  “Tell me, baby. Tell me how I make you feel.” His wicked tone made her bolder.

  “You make me so fucking hot, Chase. I want you inside me so bad.”

  He nudged the edge of her panties aside and stroked her wet folds. “Since we’re exposed today, this will have to do.”

  First, one of his long fingers slid inside her, then two, pumping hard and fast as his thumb circled her throbbing clit. She arched hard against him, savoring the things he made her feel. It had been so long, too damned long since she’d been with anyone and now…

  “Oh, God. Chase, I’m close. Please don’t stop.”

  “Never, baby.” He used his free hand to push the hem of her sweater higher then nuzzled the skin between her breasts. “Do I make you feel good?”

  “Yes.” She hissed the word, more than said it, all her attention focused on the tension coiling deep in her hips, the ultimate pleasure hovering just on the horizon. She ground against his palm and rubbed against his hard cock, pulsing long and thick against her trapped inside his jeans. If they had more time and more privacy, she would’ve pleasured him too, taking him deep into her mouth, tasting him like she’d dreamed of doing since their first kiss. He pinched her clit softly between his thumb and forefinger, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. “Yeah, right there.”

  “Fuck yeah,” he growled, doing it again.

  Close. She was so close now. Just a few more strokes, a few more thrusts of his talented fingers and…and… She panted and bucked against him as he took one of her rock-hard nipples into the heat of his mouth. The mingled sensations pushed her over the edge.

  “Chase, I’m coming. Oh, God. Oh, Chase.”

  “Yes, baby. Yes. That’s it, let go for me. Come for me, baby.” His hot breath ghosted over her breasts as she rode out wave after wave of ecstasy. When she at last drifted back to earth, he’d straightened her bra and sweater then fastened her jeans before cuddling her into his side, sated and happy for the first time she could remember.

  He kissed the side of her neck, then her lips, tenderly. “Okay, baby?”

  “Fantastic.” She grinned, her cheeks still heated with pleasure. “But we should probably get back inside, huh? We’ve been out here a long time. They’ll start getting ideas about us.”

  Chase shrugged and held her tighter. “They’re Rockfords. They always have ideas.”

  Shelby pushed up on one elbow to look down at him, grinning. “That doesn’t mean we have to prove them right.”

  He grinned back, looking supremely pleased with himself. “I think we already have.”

  She couldn’t disagree.

  Fourteen

  After leaving Blake’s home later that afternoon, Shelby stopped by Paws and Play to check on the residents and let them out for a potty break and some play time. On her way toward the back area, she snagged a week’s worth of accumulated mail off the receptionist’s desk then set about opening cages and ushering several dogs out into the small fenced in area in the back of the building. She felt more buoyant and cheerful than she had in weeks.

  All thanks to one Chase Evans.

  An hour later, with all the food and water bowls refilled and everyone secured back in their pens, she sat at her work station in one corner and sorted through the assorted junk and bills. Most of it went in the trash or in her To-Be-Paid stack, but one letter had her halting. The federal seal of the United States covered one corner and beneath was a familiar address.

  The grant application decision.

  Nerves and adrenaline made her fingers shake as she ripped the top of the envelope open. These funds were a mainstay of her budget. Without a regular supply of grant money, non-profits like her shelter were dead in the water. They’d never denied her before, but considering all the other crazy events happening in her life right now, she wasn’t certain of anything anymore.…

  Shelby closed her eyes and pulled out the letter, then squinted one eye open to read the first line. “Dear Ms. Bryant, we regret to inform you that your grant application for the next fiscal quarter has been denied…”

  Her heart sank. No. They couldn’t deny her application. She’d done everything right, filled out all the forms, written all the essays, dotted every I and crossed every T. Same as every other time when she’d been approved, no questions asked.

  It made no sense. None whatsoever. Except…

  Katherine. Has to be. But why would she sabotage my shelter?

  The money. It was all about the money with her step-monster. Katherine would know that losing the grant money would make Shelby even more reliant on her dad’s fortune to make ends meet.

  Defeated, Shelby covered her face with her hands. Much as she hated to admit it, this time Katherine Bryant was right. If she wanted to save her shelter, she needed her dad’s money after all.

  Fifteen

  Nine a.m. Monday morning found Chase back in the police interrogation room. Again. The only thing that had changed around this sorry place in the nearly forty-eight hours since he’d been there last was his attitude. Hell, connecting with Shelby on a deeper level and having her come undone in his arms had been life changing. She trusted him, enough to let him see her at her most vulnerable and open, and he damned sure would protect that treasure like gold.

  The black cloud of uncertainty that had hovered over him since he’d walked out of the prison dissipated, leaving in its wake a new determination, a new optimism. He could handle this, no matter what absurd accusation the cops came up with against him next. There was no way they could prove he had killed Warren Bryant no matter how many trumped up pieces of evidence Katherine gave them.

  Calm and less stressed, he leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands atop his taut stomach, waiting for his favorite pain-in-the-butt detective to walk through the door.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  Detective Marlowe stalked in, her high-heeled pump clacking against the tiled floor and her expression impassive, as always.

  Chase smiled. Good old Marlowe. Predictable to a fault. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  She slid into the metal chair across the table from him, her cool half-grin not reaching her dark eyes. “Or you could just confess and make my life a lot easier.”

  “Sorry. No can do.” He shrugged. “So, what do you think I did this time?”

  “Kill Warren Bryant.”

  “Been there, didn’t do it. Already told you that. Next.”

  “Right.” Marlowe slid several photos across the table. “What about this heroin we found yesterday in a gym locker registered under your name?”

  “Huh, really?” Chase glanced at the pictures. “Never seen those lockers before. And the only place I work out is the employee gym at Rockford Security. Sorry. Find my prints on the dope?”

  “No, but we found your note to a rival dealer, telling them they’d better close up shop on your turf or else you’d give them the same treatment you gave Bryant.”

  “Dealer, eh
?” Chase shook his head. The only dealer he knew these days was Shane—not that he’d tell that to the cops. “No dealers in my address book, Detective.”

  “Well, it’s not like you’d flaunt that association all over town, would you, Mr. Evans?” Marlowe sat forward and flashed a full, smug grin at him now. From the confident set of her shoulders and the way she practically reeked of power, he guessed she had something more on him—or at least thought she did. “But…”

  “But what?”

  “We’ve got a guy in lock-up who says otherwise.”

  Disbelief made him chuckle. “What? Wait a second. You’re telling me a drug dealer waltzed into this station and confessed to trafficking then conveniently pointed the finger at me?” Chase sat forward. “And you don’t find that the teeniest bit suspicious?”

  Marlowe sat back, eyes narrowed, silent.

  “Mind telling me the name of this kingpin genius?”

  “You know I can’t divulge that information.”

  “Sure, okay.” Certainty bubbled hot in Chase’s gut. “I’d say that’s because you don’t know. You guys got nothing on me. Nothing.” He took a deep breath and forced a small smile. “And you know why, Detective? Because you’re looking at the wrong person.”

  “Really?” Marlowe crossed her arms. “And where should we be looking, Mr. Evans? At your pretty little girlfriend?”

  Shelby? Aw, shit.

  Definitely not the direction he’d meant to guide them. His sunny mood darkened. Trouble was, his current case against Katherine was just as circumstantial as theirs against him and Shelby. The whole fucking thing was a catch twenty-two, a no-win scenario. He needed to find something substantial tying Katherine to her husband’s murder, something more than tacky burner phones and missing envelopes of cash. Something real and true and irrefutable.

  As Marlowe exited, leaving him alone again, his next move became clear.

  He needed to sneak back into the Lucky Ace.

  And this time he couldn’t afford to get caught because he had the sickening feeling that the next time he set foot in this police station Marlowe and her minions would nail his ass to the wall for his supposed crimes and even Blake Rockford, with all impressive influence and favors, wouldn’t save him from his fate.

  * * *

  That night, Chase stood outside Shelby’s apartment door for the second time in a week and fidgeted while the sounds of Snickerdoodle’s barking and Shelby’s admonishments drifted to a halt. Shelby had mentioned over the phone that the big furry guy had finally gotten his cone of shame removed earlier, so he’d brought along a special surprise for the dog to celebrate.

  Shelby opened the door and looked adorable as always in her baggy T-shirt and jeans. Her expression, however, appeared tragic and his heart ached at the sight. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him and offered Snickerdoodle one of the special hand-baked treats before shrugging out of his denim jacket. Concerned, he moved closer to Shelby and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Katherine.” Her voice quavered, but her tone spit venom. “Guess what I got in the mail yesterday? A great big denial on my latest non-profit grant.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, baby.”

  Shelby shook her head, her blond curls jiggling. “Not only that, but when I tried to order more food for the animals earlier, they declined my credit card. I called the company and found out my account’s been cancelled. All my bank accounts are frozen, Chase. And no one will even tell me why.”

  Chase fisted his free hand, imagining it squeezing Katherine’s neck instead. That woman was a goddamned menace to society. It was one thing for her to go after him, quite another for her to attack Shelby—the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful person he’d ever met.

  “I-I’m going to lose the shelter, C-chase.” Shelby hiccupped on her sobs. “Where will all my animals go? I’d keep them here, but I’m not sure I’ll even have a home after all this is over.”

  “C’mere, baby.” Chase pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest, offering her what comfort he could. He’d never really had a chance to be there for someone like this. Shane had always been closed off, even as a kid, refusing to confide in Chase about anything in his life after their mom had deserted them. Now, though, he wanted to be there for Shelby, wanted to honor the trust she’d put in him by making everything better for her.

  Except he didn’t know how. Not yet anyway.

  They needed a plan—a worst case scenario modus operandi.

  “Listen, baby.” He cupped her cheeks and forced her to meet his gaze. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks and her pretty blue eyes looked huge. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her and stroke her and comfort her until she smiled again. God, he loved Shelby’s smile.

  But right now she needed more from him than physical caresses. She needed his emotional strength and support. “It’ll be okay, baby. I promise. If you have to close the shelter, we’ll find homes for all the animals. They won’t go back out on the streets. We’ll keep them safe and protected, okay?”

  She sniffled. “How? I have a lot of animals.”

  “And I know a lot of Rockfords.”

  Shelby snorted and swiped the back of her trembling hand beneath her eyes. “Katherine’s behind this. I know it. We have to make her pay, Chase. She can’t get away with this.”

  “We will.” He leaned down, unable to resist giving her a quick kiss. “I promise.”

  Resolved, he took a seat on her sofa and pulled her down beside him. Snickerdoodle jumped up on the other end, searching around for more treats. He’d considered asking Shelby to come with him when he snuck back into the casino, but now, no way. If she got caught trespassing once more in Katherine’s condo, chances were far higher she’d get charged too.

  No. This was a mission he’d complete on his own.

  Risky? Fuck yeah. But now he’d risk anything to keep Shelby safe.

  Even his precious freedom.

  * * *

  Shelby snuggled closer into Chase’s side and rested her head against his shoulder. After her tear-filled meltdown, they’d decided to chill at her place and watch movies. She’d ordered a pizza and opened a bottle of chardonnay from her fridge, and they’d spent some nice quiet time together. It felt good—awesome, really—to be alone and relax with someone where she didn’t have to be on guard or pretend to be someone or something she wasn’t.

  With Chase, she could just be herself and know that was okay, that was enough.

  He kissed the top of her head and stroked his fingers through her hair, chuckling at the antics of the zany actors on screen. He’d sat through her favorite romantic comedy even though she was sure a tough guy like him would’ve preferred a blow-em-up action flick instead. His kindness made her care for him all the more. And those feelings seemed to be going around too, seeing as how one of her two hermit cats had jumped up and now rested across the back of the sofa behind Chase’s head, his ginger tail swishing near Chase’s ear.

  Snickerdoodle, though, had claimed the prime real estate, draping himself across Chase’s lap with his hind legs stretched atop Shelby’s. The somewhat awkward arrangement still worked, since they used his long back as a table for their dinner plates. Shelby snickered while Chase slipped the dog tidbits of pepperoni from his meal. “You’re a dog person aren’t you?”

  “I guess.” Chase shrugged and grinned. “And you like cats?”

  “I like both. And birds. And horses. And—”

  “And every other creature on God’s green earth, right?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, pretty much. Not bugs though. Not a fan of those.”

  “What?” He looked at her with mock affront. “You got something against tarantulas?”

  “Uh, yeah.” The movie ended and she grabbed the remote. “What should we watch now? I picked the last time, so it’s your choice.”

  “Hmm. Okay.” He took the remote and scrolled through the onscreen choices, stopping at a newer releas
e horror flick. “What about this one? Zombies too scary?”

  “Nah. Zombies work for me.”

  “Cool.” Chase started the new film then tossed the remote on the coffee table where their feet rested. Snickerdoodle grew restless and they both barely managed to pick up their plates before the dog jumped down. “Well, okay then. Guess he didn’t appreciate being disturbed.”

  “Guess not.” Shelby finished her last few bites of pizza then set her plate on top of the empty pizza box. “Oh well, his loss.”

  “Got that right.” He waggled his eyebrows provocatively at Shelby. “I’ve been known to have the best lap in town.”

  She giggled. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Your loss.” He set his plate atop of hers on the table then pulled her tight into his side again, his hand resting comfortably at her waist. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  Oh, I will. Believe me.

  As the film progressed and the scenes moved from infected hospital patients to a mass of drooling undead chomping on brains, Chase kept up a running commentary of funny remarks. Normally, people who talked constantly during movies got on Shelby’s last frigging nerve, but his humor made it fun.

  “What do you think they make those brains out of?” Chase asked, his expression serious.

  “No idea.” Shelby shrugged. “Gelatin maybe?”

  “Really? Gelatin? What flavor?”

  “I don’t know, brain flavor?”

  “Okay, ew.” He laughed. “Don’t you ever think about stuff like that? Like people get paid excellent money for all these special effects things and I think that’s fascinating. I watched a documentary once about how those guys make all that stuff and they said most of what they use are normal things you have in your kitchen. Like corn syrup and red food coloring for the blood and stuff.”

  Shelby leaned away and looked him in the eye. “Well, I can honestly say I’ve never, ever thought about blood flavored gelatin until tonight, Chase. Thanks for the new experience.”