Deep Burn (Station Seventeen Book 2)

by Kimberly Kincaid

  “Oh my…God.”

  Shae’s head dropped back as her hands lowered to make fists in Capelli’s hair. His tongue slid up, turning firm circles over her clit and sending sparks across her field of vision. She gave in on a moan, gripping him close as he worked her core harder and faster with his mouth. Each movement coiled the tension in her belly tighter, bringing her closer and closer to release. Somewhere in the fog of her consciousness, Shae recognized the tiny desire to hold back, to wait until he was inside her before crashing over the edge. But the edge was right there, and Capelli seemed intent on pushing her over, and suddenly, the tension in her body was too big and too bright to ignore.

  “I…I want…”

  He read her without question, even though she knew she made no sense. With one final sweep of his tongue, he destroyed the last of Shae’s resolve, and she started to tremble and shudder in waves.

  “That’s it. Right there,” he grated, the vibration of his whisper against her hypersensitive clit twisting her need to come even tighter. “Let go, sweetheart. Scream for me.”

  God help her, Shae did. Her orgasm smashed over her in waves, and Capelli rode out every one with his mouth, his fingers, his words. Just when she was certain her legs would give out, there were his arms, folding tightly around her to guide her to the rumpled bedsheets behind them.

  “Jesus, Shae. You really are beautiful.”

  The words made something snap deep inside of her, and she turned to kiss him, hard and fast.

  “And you’re overdressed. Now are you going to sit there, or are you going to let me do something about that?”

  As if a pendulum swung to swap out their positions, Capelli gave up the lead. Shae made fast work of the rest of his clothes, until nothing stood between them but his boxer shorts and a whole lot of unfettered want. Reaching between their bodies, she palmed his cock over the cotton, and he bit out a curse as he rocked into her touch.

  “There,” she said, wicked satisfaction curling low in her belly, reigniting the desire he’d just fulfilled. Shae slid his boxers from his hips, his cock springing free from the last barrier between them, and her heart pounded faster at the sight of him. A muscle pulled tight over the line of Capelli’s jaw, and in that second, Shae realized how hard he’d been fighting for his composure.

  And just how badly she wanted to wreck it.

  “You had me first.” She moved over the bed, turning to the side as she trailed a line of kisses down his chest, the sculpted plane of his abs. His cock jerked when she reached the scattering of hair leading down from his navel, and she reached down to stroke him in one long, slow glide. “Now I’m having you.”

  “Shae—”

  She slipped her mouth over his cock, and whatever else Capelli meant to say was replaced by a harsh exhale. A heady thrill raced through Shae’s veins at the sound, daring her to dare him. She ran her tongue over his length from root to tip, pausing for only a breath before she took him into her mouth as far as she could. He arched off the bed, chasing her touch as she retreated, and she repeated the movement just to see him do it again. Splaying one palm over the sheets next to Capelli’s hip, Shae pressed up to her hands and knees beside him, finding a steady rhythm of lift and lower with her mouth. Then suddenly, without warning, his fingers were between her legs, pushing inside of her with ease.

  “Oh,” Shae cried out, her inner muscles squeezing at the unexpected pressure. She wanted to stay where she was, to not be distracted from giving him the exact same pleasure he’d given her. But Capelli touched her with sure, perfect strokes, and when his thumb moved up to graze her clit, her impulses gave in to the now-right-now demand flying down from her brain. Sparing only a second to grab a condom from the drawer of her bedside table, Shae straddled his hips, rolling the protection into place before angling his cock over her slippery entrance and lowering herself over him in one hard push.

  A sound flew past her lips, somewhere between a sigh and a swear word. For a second, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel the undiluted pleasure flooding her senses at the feel of his cock filling her so completely. Then she shifted, and even though the move was only a slight lift and lower, Capelli went bowstring tight beneath her.

  “Shae,” he grated, a moan leaving his chest. “Jesus, you’re so tight.”

  “You’re not going to break me,” she said, proving it by rocking her hips against his until there was no space at all between them.

  His eyes met hers, locking into place. “I know. But if you keep that up, you just might break me.”

  Just like that, Shae was done hesitating. She hinged forward and began to move faster, and Capelli reached down low to wrap his hands around the flare of her hips. He guided her motions, his fingers grasping with firm intention to lift her up and down on his cock. The feel of him, buried inside her so hot and so hard, sent bursts of pleasure deep into her center.

  Led by nothing but reckless desire, she began to thrust with more speed. But the faster she moved, the more Capelli stayed right there with her, holding her close as Shae took everything she wanted. Release built in her belly, fast and dark like storm clouds, until her body thrummed with the undeniable need to come. Capelli thrust upward, finding some undiscovered spot deep in her pussy that stole the breath right out of her lungs, and she unraveled with a keening cry. The more her body loosened, the tighter his grew, and Shae fluttered her eyes open to pin him with a stare.

  “You don’t have to hold back, Capelli. If you want it”—she rolled her hips even though they were already fully joined—“lose control and take it.”

  He’d gripped her waist and swung her beneath him before she could fully register the movement. Hooking his hands under her knees, Capelli spread her thighs wide, filling her over and over in relentless thrusts. Shae moaned her approval, wanting each stroke more than the last, opening up to let each one bring him closer to losing control. But despite the intensity etched on his face and the power of his movements, he still somehow held back, and she looked up at him through the shadows.

  “Let go, Capelli. Take what you need.”

  The tension in his touch shifted, his stare turning dark and fierce. He filled her faster, harder, until finally, on a long, pulsing thrust—yes, God, yes, yes—he came with a guttural shout.

  With her heart still slamming in her chest, Shae slid back to her awareness slowly, like emerging from a fog. Capelli pressed against her, their bodies loose and warm and thoroughly tangled, their chests rising and falling in rapid rhythm. After some amount of time she couldn’t begin to measure, he pushed up from the bed, moving down the hallway for a brief minute before returning to lie down beside her.

  Shae knew the moment had the potential to get awkward—yes, they’d just had scorching hot sex, but not even that could change the fact that they were sitting here together in the near-dark of her bedroom, wearing nothing but a cotton bedsheet. But just because she and Capelli had lost their clothes together didn’t mean their minds had to follow, so she propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him.

  “I didn’t feed you,” she said, and after a beat, Capelli’s laughter rumbled through her shadowy bedroom.

  “A little random, but no. I don’t suppose you did.”

  “I did promise.” Shae bit her lip, trying on her very best remorseful expression. “I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t deliver.”

  Capelli turned to his side, bringing them face-to-face. He didn’t say anything, simply studying her for a second, then another, until finally, he broke into a smile.

  “Given your culinary habits, I’m assuming you mean deliver literally,” he said, and Shae’s laugh flew out, unchecked.

  “Hell yes, Starsky. I hope you’re hungry, because I can order Chinese food like nobody’s business.”

  Chapter 16

  “Well, smack my ass and call me Sally.”

  Vaughn stood in his just-hidden-enough-to-go-unnoticed spot across the street from the firefighter chick’s apartment
building, watching her bedroom light go out with a disbelieving grin. It was well after midnight, and James’s car still sat right in the side lot where the asshole had parked it five hours ago. Which could only mean one thing.

  Someone had a liability, and it sure as shit wasn’t Vaughn.

  Truly, he hadn’t thought his old buddy had it in him. Not that James had been a saint in the screwing-people department back in the day—or in any other department for that matter, because hey, a leopard couldn’t change its spots no matter how badly it wanted to be a plain old house cat. But James knew better than anyone else how dangerous it could be to invest emotions in another person. His strung out, jacked up Mommy Dearest was case in point. Honestly, after the train wreck that had gone down eight years ago, the guy had to be an idiot to even consider emotions of any fucking variety, even the kind motivated by his dick.

  Ah well. If James was going to be dumb enough to put a queen on the board, no way was Vaughn not going to take it, if for no other reason than because he could.

  “First things first,” he murmured. He’d deal with James and his little screw toy and the rest of the intelligence unit when the time came. For now, he needed to get the rest of the pieces where he wanted them.

  Slipping a burner cell from the front pocket of his hoodie, Vaughn dialed a number without looking. The phone on the other end rang once, twice, and Christ, what a fucking cliché. The third time was the charm.

  “Kinsey,” came the clipped voice over the line, but Vaughn wasn’t fooled. The mayor’s senior aide couldn’t hide the traces of sleep in his tone from him the way he could from all the other yes-men and knuckle draggers.

  “It’s been a while, Kinsey. How are things on the primrose path?”

  “Who is this?”

  It was the split-second pause just before Jack Kinsey delivered the question that gave him away. He was buying time. Trying to figure out what Vaughn might want. How he’d deal with him. But not even an ice age would get the guy out of what Vaughn was about to throw in the mayor’s lap.

  “Clearly, it’s been too long if you think I’m going to fall for that,” Vaughn said, his voice as quiet and as dark as the chilly night around him. “You know exactly who this is. Or have you forgotten all of the services I’ve provided for you and ol’ Brad in the past?”

  This time, the silence on the line was all frost, and yeah, now they were getting somewhere.

  “I’ll assume this line is secure,” Kinsey finally said, prompting Vaughn to laugh.

  “Please. I’ve laundered millions of dollars in stolen campaign funds and bribe money for the mayor of our fine city over the last six years. You don’t honestly think I can’t safeguard one little phone line.”

  Kinsey exhaled his disgruntlement, presumably at the sound of the words having been spoken so clearly over the line. God, government officials were so uptight. Of course, Vaughn had known the out-loud mention would ruffle the mayor’s senior aide. What was the point of having leverage if you didn’t fucking use it?

  Something Kinsey clearly recognized, because he said, “What is it I can do for you, Shadow, since I’m certain this isn’t a social call.”

  Time for more expertly applied pressure. “What, you don’t think I could be the mayor’s fourth when he plays the back nine with Alderman Thompson and the CEO of Bushman and Park on Wednesday?” Vaughn asked.

  Of course, he’d rather be dragged over a field of razor wire and broken glass than endure so much as a second’s worth of that rich-person bullshit, but hey. Kinsey’s grunt of surprise that Vaughn had clearly hacked into the mayor’s private online planner was worth the asking. “Relax, Kinsey. Unlike your boss, I’m not interested in rubbing elbows with local figureheads or slick-ass real estate developers. You and I have bigger things to discuss.”

  Kinsey waited a beat before answering, probably in an effort to try and make Vaughn think he was bored. Reading people in order to get what he wanted on the mayor’s behalf had always been Kinsey’s primary job, no matter what his business cards claimed. Under other circumstances, Vaughn would consider being offended that Kinsey thought those preschool mind games would work on him. But since he had the upper hand—and was about to wield it like a fucking broadsword—he’d play along for another minute or two.

  “You’re paid in full at the end of every month for services rendered,” Kinsey reminded him. “There’s been no change to the mayor’s needs for those services. What could we possibly have to discuss?”

  “The mayor’s needs may not have changed, but mine have.”

  Vaughn eyed the empty, well-shadowed street around him before slipping farther into the alcove of the corner market across from Shae McCullough’s apartment building. The market had long since been deserted for the night, along with every other business on the block and the street around him besides, but still. There was no such thing as too careful.

  “I’m listening,” Kinsey said, and Vaughn smiled into the darkness.

  “Good, because I’m not going to repeat myself. I want a million dollars transferred to an offshore account in the Seychelles by five PM on Friday.”

  “You must be joking.”

  Vaughn’s smile morphed into a laugh that was all menace. “I never joke about money.”

  “And what is it exactly that you’ll be providing for this million dollars?” he asked.

  Jesus, for the right-hand man of the city’s most powerful official, Kinsey could be so goddamn thick. But Vaughn was already getting tired of this conversation, so he cut to the chase.

  “Security, of course. Here’s the bottom line. I know all sorts of things about Bradley Aldrich III that I’m sure would be of extreme interest to his adoring constituents, not to mention the RPD. If he wants that information to remain secure, he’ll pay me the million to keep it that way. You and I both know I’ve got enough dirt for the D.A. to indict him—and, oh by the way, you, too—on over three dozen counts of felony corruption.”

  Vaughn’s heart pumped faster as he let the not-so-veiled threat sink in for a minute. Metering his voice to its softest, most insidious setting, he let his words slip into the phone, but no farther. “Fraud, money laundering, bribery, conspiracy. The mayor’s been a very greedy man. Now it’s time for him to share the wealth.”

  “So this is nothing more than common extortion? Hell, Shadow. All things considered, I’d have thought you’d be more creative than that.”

  Kinsey’s tone was loaded with enough disdain to be thoroughly condescending, and Vaughn pushed off the bricks in the alcove in a move both swift and lethal.

  “There’s nothing common about it,” he bit out, anger slithering up his spine. “I provide the mayor with services that no one else is smart enough to even dream of, and his top-one-percent, seven-million-dollar-estate-building ass is going to give me what I’m due. Need I remind you that you came to me, Kinsey? You sought me out to manage the mayor’s private financial projects. And you still need me. I’ve been laundering Aldrich’s dirty money for six fucking years. I can make prison orange his new color before the sun comes up if the spirit moves me.”

  “You get a cut of those proceeds,” Kinsey reminded him, but Vaughn wasn’t about to have his focus diverted. He’d already set too many fires. He wasn’t going to be able to stay under the radar much longer, and he needed this money. Fuck, he deserved it. Without him, Aldrich would have been indicted years ago.

  “Now I want more. Greed isn’t so pretty when you’re not the one wearing it, now is it, Jack?”

  “A million is too much to move by Friday.” Kinsey’s voice had gone quiet, but the words were still an argument.

  Frustration snapped, low and hot in Vaughn’s belly. This shit was getting downright insulting. For Chrissake, how dumb did the man think he was? “Not if you do it right. Which I’m certain you can, because I showed you how.”

  “And if the mayor decides he’s not willing to cooperate?”

  “Then I’ll burn old Brad all the way to the gro
und. Oh, and proof of every single bribe I’ve ever covered up for him will end up on the desk of the chief of police.”

  Kinsey made a sound that probably meant to be a laugh, but it was just a shade too nervous to pass. “You have no proof of anything. All the mayor’s financial records are clean.”

  “Not the ones I have copies of,” Vaughn said. Smartly, Kinsey didn’t point out that their verbal contract for services rendered (seriously, for a herd of dolts, rich people were so fucking fancy) had been expressly dependent on no records being kept. Like there had been a snowball’s chance Vaughn had ever planned to honor that bullshit.

  “Anything you’d disclose to the police would implicate you, too,” Kinsey pushed. “I know you. You’re not about to risk going to jail. You’d rather take a bullet than be put in a cage.”

  Vaughn’s pulse tripped in surprise. O-kay, time to kill this conversation, along with any hope Kinsey had of getting out of this situation without giving him what he needed.

  “I can feel you thinking, Kinsey. Do yourself a favor and don’t. Otherwise I’ll be tempted to throw in all the video of Brad with those women who are so not the missus. The one with the redhead in the hot tub might be my favorite. Then again, I have a lot of honeys to choose from.”

  “There…there’s no way you could access those,” Kinsey sputtered, and Jesus, finally the jackass had tipped his hand. “They’re completely private. You’re bluffing.”

  Vaughn spent every ounce of the air in his lungs laughing into the empty darkness around him before he answered. “It is so cute that you think privacy is a thing. Friday. 5 P.M. I’ll text you the account number at 4:55. And, Kinsey?”

  He waited for just a breath, his pulse pounding faster and his dick getting hard from the sheer arousal of twisting the knife the rest of the way into place.