I rise up out of the water, droplets sliding over my body, sluicing between my breasts and over the tight curve of my waist. “It’s fine.”
As he watches, his face in the shadows, I put my top on, adjusting the triangles to cover my breasts.
Another dopamine rush. This one is decidedly less healthy. Don’t use other people for sex, Taylor. Right. Well, it’s been a long couple of days. Hard to be perfect.
I shrug off the pang of guilt and put on a flippant mask instead. “I don’t get embarrassed, Luke.” It’s a lie. He’s already gotten under my skin more than once. But it’ll take more than his eyes on my skin. That, I’m numb to.
His gaze rakes over me. Hot. Investigative.
The bikini hides little. And maybe because I’m wearing it—a familiar mask—I have no problem hiding everything else. How scared I was while he was gone, for example.
None of his business.
“Go get your suit on,” I say, sinking back into the water. “I’ll wait here. Unless you want to skinny dip. That would be fine by me.”
He laughs, low and warm. “I’ll be right back.”
It takes him less than two minutes to change, and when he steps outside again he’s wearing swim trunks.
Luke Vasquez without a shirt on is a beautiful, make-me-weak-in-the-knees sight.
I blame the fact I haven’t had sex with another living, breathing human being in three years for my reaction. And our kiss. Also, probably, his parents, for having the audacity to give him genes that gave him a body that wouldn’t quit.
Hard.
He’s so hard. Big and broad across the shoulders, bulky and round and strong there, but then tight all the way down, tight and sculpted and—
It’s a mistake to spend any time with him in a pool when I’m basically a born-again virgin.
I should grab one of the towels he’s just dumped on the bench by the door and skedaddle inside before I do something stupid like climb him like a greedy little kitten scampers up a tree.
Of course, I don’t. I tread water and watch him, more tigress than kitten, as he paces to the deep end and dives in.
It’s a clean dive. Long and strong, and he swims all the way past me underwater and doesn’t surface until he reaches the other end.
And he’s even hotter with his hair all wet and slicked back.
Fuck me.
Yes, please, fuck me.
He won’t. Damn him. But a girl can’t help but want what her parched little body wants.
It’s time I fully admit just how thirsty I am for the good detective.
But when he looks at me, now with his face well lit by the light from the living room, I see his face is tight with tension. Maybe now isn’t the best time to indulge in my fantasies. I swallow down that hunger and reach for the right thing to ask.
“How did it go with my sisters?” I don’t really want to know. It can’t have gone well. Tension and conflict and all things Reid. “Was Ali upset?”
“She’s okay. It went as well as an awkward conversation can go. They read your note and knew it was in your handwriting, so that was a great idea.” He adds a thin smile at the end.
“Good.”
He doesn’t expand, and I don’t know what to ask next. So I keep treading water, letting him sit in the silence like he made me yesterday. But he doesn’t fall for it, and I eventually swim away. He watches me do a couple of laps, then joins me, swimming in the opposite direction, so we cross paths in the middle of the pool each time. Slow. Back and forth.
What happened today that he doesn’t want to talk about?
Finally, my muscles start to tire. I do two more laps to push myself then slowly climb out of the pool.
I hope he’s watching.
If we’re not going to talk, maybe we can burn some inappropriate tension instead.
Behind me, I can hear him climbing out of the pool as well.
I grab a towel.
“I need to apologize for leaving you alone today. For so long. I ended up going shopping after I went to the station, and then I went for a long drive out to Big Bear Lake to make sure I wasn’t being followed. And to clear my head. It’s—”
“You don’t need to apologize. I know you’ve thought all of this through.”
“It’s just that I realized today just how important security is to you. Meeting your sisters today showed me that in stark relief,” he says from behind me.
I keep my head bowed low and keep drying off.
“Taylor, I know you need—”
“I don’t need anything,” I say, turning around. I wrap the towel around my body, tight under my arms, tucked in between my breasts. Suddenly I do care that I’m wearing next to nothing. Suddenly I feel very much like I can’t hide anything from Luke. Because how the hell did he see that? I didn’t show him anything.
And that makes me livid.
“You can’t help me with that,” I say, my words clipped. “And I don’t need you playing armchair psychologist. You know what I’ve been through. You know I can’t sleep in my own bed or go to my job, both of which are safe spaces for me. This?” I wave at his house. “This is your safe space. I’m a guest here. I’m on edge here. That’s fine. I’ll deal. But don’t pretend this is going to get better if we talk about our feelings and my crappy childhood. It’s not going to get better until we figure out who wants me dead.”
“Maybe nobody does. Maybe that was a warning shot.”
“What?”
“We got a briefing from the FBI Forensics Lab today. It was eye-opening.”
I try to pull my towel tighter around me. “What are you talking about?”
He swipes his own towel across his face and sighs. “I should have said something right away.” But he got distracted by my tits. Story of my fucking life.
I distracted him with my tits.
I scowl. “Get to the point now.”
“Your key fob wasn’t the trigger for the bomb.”
“Yes, it was. I kept pushing it.” Hysteria boils inside me. “You saw me, Luke. It didn’t work, and then I turned and pointed it at the car, and pushed it, and—”
The edges of my vision go black, then white, as I see it all over again.
21
Luke
I catch her as she sways sideways, and sweep her into my arms. The sob she lets out is heartbreaking, and she wraps her arms tight around my neck.
Taking her inside, I toss my towel on the couch and sink onto it before I draw in a rough, frustrated breath.
She’s so brittle, so angry, it’s easy to forget that she’s fragile, too.
Fragile and hurt. Fragile because she’s hurt.
And the last thing she wants is for me to coddle her.
I should have told her everything, and now I can’t because she—
No.
I can.
“Taylor,” I quietly murmur. “There’s more.”
She goes still in my arms. And then she pulls herself together, pushes herself off my lap, and sits next to me. A tight ball of brave fear. “What?”
“First of all, I’m now officially on vacation. I’ve handed over the case to Detectives McBride and Singh. I’m no longer investigating what happened to you.”
“Why?” Her eyes are big. Bigger than they’ve ever been before, and maybe that’s because she seems little for the first time since we met.
Too little, too scared.
She deserves the truth, but God damn it, I don’t want to scare her further. “Because I’m too close to you.”
Her nose twitches. That’s it. A slight nostril flare and nothing else.
Well, fuck.
Her chin lifts. “What else is there?”
So we’re moving past the feelings. Fine. For the best, really. “The bomb was detonated by a cell phone signal. It also was rigged to look like a high explosive, but not likely to kill someone.”
“Someone wanted it to look worse than it really was?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Probably to scare you. Maybe to lure you into a trap. They may not have known who I was, why I was talking to you. They didn’t expect a cop to be there. McBride is working on a stalker theory.”
Her face goes pale.
I press on. “And your sister suggested I look into Gerome Lively.”
“No.” She shakes her head, hard and fast. “No, it’s not him.”
“He hurt your sister. Your family has a history with him.”
“I have a history with him,” she says. “And he’s not interested in me. Trust me.”
I do. I’ll leave that for now.
I take a deep breath. “The Secret Service is involved again, too.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”
“There’s a big task force on this. They’ll get whoever it is.”
“Okay.”
“And—”
“Luke?” She reaches out and presses her fingers against my mouth. “That’s enough. Okay? Unless there’s something else I need to know right now.”
I shake my head, my throat tight.
That’s it.
She leans in. “You’re officially on vacation? No longer working this case?”
I nod.
Slowly, she climbs into my lap. “Is this okay?”
Laughing, a wounded, desperate sound, I tug her hard against me and bite her bottom lip. Fuck yes, this is okay.
She licks her way into my mouth. This kiss is desperate. Hungry. Like she needs to bury that panic beneath a pile of rubble of her choosing. A controlled blast of lust rather than the uncontrollable pain.
Even though this is okay, officially, I know it’s not really. I should take things slow. Be careful with her, and maintain some boundaries. But she wants this. And I can’t hurt her. She’s been hurt by everyone in her life. Over and over again.
I won’t do that.
So I groan and pull her deeper onto my lap. I kiss her, because she wants it, and damn the consequences. And for all our chemistry from the first kiss, I never would have guessed Taylor liked this much aggression. Every time I squeeze or bite or push against her, she responds immediately. Little groans and squirms and pants that get my deepest, darkest fantasies going out of control. Heat spools low in my belly. It’s been too long, and the memory of hearing her shift in her bed, a door between us, spikes my desire into the stratosphere.
I want to see her use that fucking toy. I want to pin her to the bed and bite her all over as she gets herself off. I want to roll her over my lap and spank her until her ass is glowing red and her pussy is so wet she’s sliding around in her fucking juices.
Her hands skate down my sides, sending shivers up my spine. “Luke,” she breathes. “Yes, fuck, Luke.”
I squeeze her ass tighter and grind her against my erection. Need twists inside me. Closer, hotter. I thrust my hips up, desperate to find that contact again, but she’s shifting around, just out of reach.
“That’s better,” she breathes as her lips break apart from mine. “You feel so good.”
Fuck. Yeah. She’s hot and wet, slick against me, and—
She took off her bikini. That barely there scrap of nothing had been there one second, and now was gone.
She was fucking naked, grinding against my cock, which she has pulled out of my trunks. And I can see how I absolutely green-lit all of this. But we absolutely cannot under any circumstances fuck, no matter how slick and hot she feels. I don’t have a condom anywhere in this house. And then there’s the small matter—fuck—of the power imbalance.
Boundaries.
Slow down.
Easier said than done when she’s naked and feels like the best thing ever in my arms.
“Touch me,” she whispers. “Please.”
Please. Good lord, I can’t say no to that.
Reaching between us, I push my hand past my straining cock and touch her for the first time. She’s got a sweet, fat little pussy. Plump lips, slick and wet in the middle, and my fingers find her entrance like we’ve done this a dozen times before.
She rocks her hips, inviting the first thrust, and my brain short circuits.
“Get yourself off, Taylor.” Fuck, I want to bury myself inside her. Instead, I settle for the sweet clutch of her pussy around my fingers. “Rub that clit. Show me how you come. I want to feel it.”
Instead, she wraps her hands around my cock, and we slowly start to hand fuck each other. She’s tight and hot around my hand, silky and soft. I can’t tear my eyes away from the spread of her cunt around my fingers, her grip sure and steady on my cock just in the foreground.
It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
And the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard is the little gasping inhales she makes as she rides up and down in my lap. Slow. My girl likes it slow. And deep. But hard. Rough. She grinds down when my hand bottoms out against her slick flesh, pulling more of me into her body. And she shakes as she lifts herself up, all needy and horny and perfect and so close already, I can see it.
Her neck flushes pink, her mouth swells, her nipples get puffy, just the tips going hard.
Her fucking nipples. I pull her close so I can get my mouth on them, suck her against my tongue, and she loses her hold on my dick.
“Ah, Luke, oh…” Yes. Fucking yes. Those are the words I want to hear. My name on her tongue, a breathy exhale as she shudders and shakes for me.
“Touch yourself,” I growl against her flesh. “Taylor. Come on my fucking hand, baby. I’m going to fill you up with another finger, stretch you until it burns, and you’re coming to come so hard.”
With a whimper, she slides her hand between us again and rubs herself, her fingers bumping against mine.
We work together as she climbs the last cliff, as she gets tighter and hotter until she finally reaches the pinnacle. A fresh slickness coats us both, my good little girl coming like a rocket in my lap.
And I squeeze her pussy one last time, gently now. The time for pain is over. “Beautiful,” I whisper against her hair before I ease out of her, bringing my fingers to my mouth.
My cock throbs as I suck the taste of her off my fingers. Fuck.
She turns her head and sticks out her tongue.
Double fucking fuck. I feed her the last drop of herself, and then she turns to share it with me.
Our tongues slide slowly back and forth, and my mind dissolves into nothing but need.
To hold her.
To do that again.
To fuck her and fill her up and taste her and keep her safe.
Which means, for now, that has to be the end of what we just did.
When she wobbles up and off me, reaching for my cock, I cover her hand. Stilling her. “I’m good.”
“Come here, don’t be an orgasm martyr.” She gives me a loose, wanton smile that turns me inside out.
I don’t want to be any kind of martyr when it comes to her, and yet here I am, pulling up my swim trunks.
Her smile falls away as realization dawns in her eyes. “What?”
“That’s enough.”
“Oh.” She grabs at the towel I’m sitting on, and I get up, letting her cover herself up. “Okay, well, thanks for the orgasm.”
It’s too bright, too sharp.
“Taylor—”
“It’s fine.”
“It is fine. It really is. We went too far, but that’s okay.”
“We didn’t go too far. Well, maybe you think we did, but I asked you if it was okay. I asked you, Luke. Fuck, this was a mistake.” She’s shaking now. “Oh, God.”
“Taylor, breathe.”
She’s crying now. I’m a fucking asshole, and I’ve yanked the rug out from under her, which I didn’t mean to do. And God fucking damn it, my brain is still scrambled, and I can’t think straight.
“Don’t tell me to breathe,” she mutters.
“I—”
“Damn it, Luke, you don’t get to pretend that you didn’t want this.”
/> “Want? Yes, I fucking want this.” I grab her hand and press it against my covered-again cock, still thick and heavy for her. “Don’t doubt that I want you. It’s just complicated.”
“How is it complicated?”
How isn’t it complicated?
But she asked if it was okay. I said yes.
Fuck.
“Never mind.” She shakes her head, jumping up. Still naked, barely covered in a towel, bikini abandoned on the floor.
She’s gorgeous and angry, and I don’t know where this went sideways, but I’ve ruined what could have been a really good moment of escape for us both. And I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry sounds empty. It would be empty because I’m not sorry I pumped the brakes.
But now I’ve rejected her like everyone else, caused her the same pain as everyone else.
Just another asshole who has hurt her.
22
Taylor
The next morning, I wake up to the quiet click of my bedroom door.
A hot cup of coffee is sitting on the bedside table.
Stealth caffeine deliveries would be cute if someone wasn’t trying to avoid me.
Taylor the Slut strikes again. Nothing like alienating someone who was just trying to help me.
There’s nothing wrong with liking sex. With wanting sex, needing sex, having sex. I know this. I’ve worked on internalizing this truth for three years. And yet the first time I actually have sex, I fucked it up by being too much. Too needy, too dirty, too fast.
Too easy.
God, I would have fucked him right there, on his couch, without a condom. I would have let him come inside me like a fucking idiot, just to have the feel of his hands and mouth and body hard up against mine.
Even now, the thought of his cock, big and hard and rubbing right up against my clit, makes me wet. I wish I’d gotten my mouth on it. I wish he’d pushed me to my knees and made me gag on it.
Hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
Of course, it wasn’t going to go well. I come with a bag of issues and feelings and prickly needs I haven’t properly explained because instead of finding a normal, healthy sex partner, I had to try to and seduce a fucking cop tasked with protecting me.
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