by J. Kenner
She nodded.
"So he changed. Evan, I mean. He changed for you."
"He changed," she said. "But it was for himself. I don't think I could be with a man who was someone other than himself. Could you?"
"No," I said, "I couldn't."
But I also couldn't be with a criminal.
When we returned to the guys, they were still talking work. This time, the gallery space.
"You mentioned it before," I said. "You're opening an art gallery?"
"We are," Cole said. "And it's an amazing space. You should check it out, Evan."
"You know I'm not signing on with you."
I raised a brow as I looked at Tyler. "Something shady going on under the layers of paint?"
As soon as I spoke, Evan and Cole glanced sharply at Tyler.
He just shrugged. "I told her," he said. "Everything."
I saw them tense, and then relax at his next words: "I love her," he added, then held out his hand for me.
The other men said nothing, but I saw the acceptance in their eyes. That was all it took, I thought, as I rested my head on Tyler's shoulder. They were family.
"Come take a look," Tyler said to Evan. "It's not like we'll make you sign in blood. And who knows," he added. "Maybe we'll end up going legit. Stranger things have happened."
We stayed another two hours, and then Tyler pulled me away, making our excuses to the others. Angie gave me a hug, and Cole and Evan both kissed my cheek. I felt, I realized, like I belonged.
"I like them," I said. "We can hang out longer if you want to."
"Can't," he said, checking the time on his phone. "We're on a schedule."
"We are?"
"We are," he affirmed, with mischief dancing in his eyes.
"Will you tell me what?"
"Nope," he said, but when we stepped out of the building, I saw my first clue--a stretch limo, complete with liveried driver holding the door open.
I turned to Tyler to ask, but he just shook his head. "In," he said, and I complied.
He followed me in, only now he held a single, blood-red rose. He gave it to me, followed by a long, slow kiss.
"I like this," I said, when he drew away. "Mysterious and romantic. How far are we going?"
"Not far," he promised, as he put his arm around me and pulled me close.
The watch that Jahn had given him brushed my shoulder and that, coupled with the fact that we'd just left a condo that had been owned by Jahn, made me remember what I still hadn't asked.
"Will you tell me now why you won't get the watch fixed?"
He turned, looked at me, and nodded. "Howard Jahn was an incredible man. Brilliant. Engaging. Entrepreneurial. He taught Evan and Cole and me everything we know," he added, with a meaningful grin.
"He wasn't, however, good with women. He kept too many secrets, and they always left. Apparently one of his first wives got so fed up with him that she threw the watch at him. And then another one did the same. Instead of fixing it again, he decided to wait until he found the woman of his dreams."
"He never did," I said, thinking of the broken watch. "That's so sad."
"I know, it really is. But when he got sick, he wrote notes to the three of us. And in mine he said that he thought he and I had a certain spark in common. That we each needed to find the right woman to make us whole, and he hoped that I would find her soon, so that I wouldn't be lonely like he was."
His eyes were on me as he spoke, and my pulse quickened.
"He said that time could start again once I found her." His smile was quick and just a little winsome. "I'm hoping to have the watch fixed soon."
"Are you?" I said, smiling.
"I am," he said, and had just enough time to kiss me before the limo came to a halt and the driver pulled open the door.
I peered outside. "The aquarium? Weren't we just here?"
"I thought we should try again. I like this place. I want you to have good memories."
"But it's the middle of the night. It's closed."
"Not for us," he said, then led me to the entrance. Sure enough, we were allowed in, then led back to the Caribbean Reef Rotunda again.
"Tyler," I said, the word little more than breath.
The room was set up with just one table, draped in a white tablecloth. A violinist played off to the side, and a private chef stood at the ready.
A single candle lit the table, and there was an empty bud vase for my rose.
I looked at the room, at him, and felt tears prick my eyes. "Why?" I asked.
"Because I look at you and all I want is to be inside you. To touch you. To throw you down and take you, any way and anywhere. It overwhelms me."
"It overwhelms me, too."
"But even with all of that," he said, "I don't want to forget to romance you."
He took my hand and pulled me into his embrace. "I've gone out with a lot of women, Sloane, but I've only fallen in love with one. I want to make this work."
"So do I," I whispered, though I'm not sure how I managed to speak through the roar of emotion. "But I don't know how."
"We'll figure it out together."
Chapter Twenty-Six
"Venti nonfat latte, right?" the barista asked, and I cringed, just a little.
"I should probably cut back," I said. "But yes."
I paid, then scooted over to wait for my drink. And as I did, Kevin came up to me.
"I need to talk to you," he said.
I gaped at him. "What the hell? Have you been following me?"
"I just need two minutes."
"Jesus, Kevin. You're going off the rails."
"I'm not," he said, then shoved an envelope into my hands. "That's everything I have on them, a laundry list of the operations I think they're involved in."
My heart pounded in my chest with the rising fear that Tyler--that all of the knights--were in trouble. I worked to stay steady. To not let Kevin see my reaction. Or, if he did, to think it was the thrill of the chase.
"All right," I said. "I'll look it over."
And I would, I thought. Carefully, and with Tyler. And if their asses were hanging out in any way, they could use Kevin's list as a blueprint for getting clear.
Tyler wasn't at Destiny when I got there, so I left the envelope in the top drawer of his desk, then headed in to get ready for my shift.
I had on the short shorts and was getting ready to do a circuit, when Cole's hand clutched tight on my upper arm.
"What the fuck, Sloane?"
"Excuse me?"
"Tyler's a good man--he trusted you. And that meant we trusted you, too. But dammit, girl, none of us take kindly to being played, Tyler most of all."
I jerked my arm free. "What are you talking about?"
I had no idea what had sparked this, but it was clear that Cole had a tight rein on the temper I'd seen before. Right then, he looked like he could put a hole through me the same way he put his fist through the hospital wall.
I didn't know if any of the three had ever killed someone, but in that moment, I was damn sure that Cole was capable.
"Just watch yourself," he said, then walked away.
"Cole!"
He turned back, his finger held up, his expression so tight I knew he was fighting an explosion.
And then he turned away again and stalked off.
I couldn't decide if I was pissed that he hadn't told me the problem, or relieved that he hadn't pummeled me into dust.
Either way, I wanted to ask Tyler what was going on. I knew that he'd arrived about a half hour before, so hurried to his office and pushed through the door. "What the hell is up with Cole?" I began, but the dark expression on Tyler's face chilled me.
"What's up with Cole?" Tyler repeated, bursting to his feet, his face a portrait of anger and hurt. "Maybe the better question is what the hell is up with you."
"Jesus, you too?" I snapped as confusion and a sick feeling pounded over me. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Cole saw y
ou," he said. "You're working with Kevin Warner, that goddamn prick. I trusted you. Hell, Sloane, I love you. How the hell could you--"
"You son of a bitch." I was beyond furious, and my words came out low and harsh and cold. "You goddamn son of a bitch. You really believe I would betray you? That I was working with Kevin? He's been dogging me, Tyler. Trying to get me to find dirt on you. And all I've done is tell him that you're clean. I compromised my own fucking values to tell him you're clean."
I stalked to his desk and ripped open the drawer. I pulled out the envelope and tossed it in his face. "There. That's what he has on you. I thought you might find it useful in case you wanted to clean up whatever goddamn mess you've gotten yourself into. Fuck," I added, then slammed my fist down on the desk. "I'm not Amanda, Tyler. I didn't run to the cops. I'm not betraying you."
But I couldn't stay, and without another look back, I ran from the room, grabbed my purse from my locker, and headed back to The Drake, not even bothering to change my clothes.
The shorts and bra-top got a few stares, but I barely noticed, I was still seething too much.
And it wasn't until I reached the penthouse and was in the bedroom digging workout clothes out of my drawer, that I realized the irony. I'd come here. To the penthouse.
I'd been pissed, and I'd come home. And to me, home was where Tyler was.
How fucked up was that?
I changed into leggings and a sports bra, then called down to the front desk to find out the location of the fitness center. As it turned out, the tenth floor had its own, and I found it easily enough, and was grateful to see it had a punching bag.
I quickly taped my hands, then shoved on some gloves. Then I started to beat the shit out of a bag while a skinny man in headphones jogged on the treadmill, occasionally shooting me concerned glances. I wasn't surprised. If that bag had been a man, he'd have been dead, several times over.
I'm not sure how long I tortured the bag before the door opened and Tyler eased inside. I saw him approach in the mirror. I didn't turn.
"Want to take a few swipes at me, too?"
"Hell, yes."
"We need to talk."
"We really don't."
He moved closer, then reached out and held the bag steady. "We can talk here with an audience or we can go back to the suite. But we are going to talk."
"Fine." I headed toward the door, then waited for him to open it as I was still wearing the gloves.
He glanced at them as we walked down the hall. "Planning on punching me?"
"Depends on what you say."
"I'm apologizing," he said, and the fist around my heart loosened. "There may even be some groveling."
I crossed my arms and tilted my head as he opened the door to the suite. "All things considered, yeah. I think groveling is in order."
"I'm sorry," he said again once the door closed behind us. "This thing between us--I want it so desperately, but it scares me, too. I told you, I don't trust easily. And when Cole told me what he'd seen, it was Amanda all over again. I fucked up."
"You sure did," I said, then used my teeth to tug off the gloves. I drew in a breath. "Trust has to be mutual. You don't trust because she betrayed you. But she didn't trust you, either. She didn't believe you knew how to handle yourself.
"I don't trust easily, either," I said as I uncoiled the tape around my hands. "But I trust you, Tyler. I may not agree with what you do, but I trust you."
"I trust you, too," Tyler said. "I do. Despite my very royal fuckup."
"I know you do," I said. "I love you, Tyler." I handed him the tape. I wanted him to really know, to truly understand, how deeply I meant those words. "I love you, and I trust you."
He cocked his head, obviously unsure. "Sloane. Are you sure?"
"I want it," I said. "All these years, it's been in my head. He tied her up. He hurt her. I don't want that there anymore. I want you. Bind me, Tyler. Bind me, and make love to me, and make the bad stuff go away."
He scooped me up as if I weighed nothing at all, then carried me to the bedroom and gently laid me on the bed. He got on beside me, then leaned over and kissed me. Soft and gentle at first, and then harder, until the kiss was almost a punishment.
"I want you," he said. "I need you."
"I know." I tightened my arms around him, clutching him tight, wanting more of his kisses, deeper and hotter. "I need you, too."
"I was afraid, you know. For a moment I was afraid that I'd fucked up beyond repair. That I'd lost you."
"Never," I said, and my voice trembled with the truth of it.
Slowly, he peeled off the sports bra, then took my breast in his mouth, one and then the other, suckling each until I felt those sparking threads of sensation shoot all the way from my breasts to my sex. I arched up, wanting more. More of him. Of his touch, of everything.
"Sit up," he said. "And scoot back."
I did, and ended up sitting upright against a pillow that Tyler had placed against the wrought-iron headboard.
"Cross your wrists around one of the bars," he said.
I hesitated. I'd imagined he'd tie me down, arms out to the side.
"It's okay," he said, as if understanding my hesitation. "You'll like it. We both will."
I nodded, then complied. I breathed deep, as if that would keep the ghosts at bay.
"Are you doing okay?" Tyler asked once my hands were secured behind me.
"Yeah," I said, surprised by the truth of the words. I tilted my head up for a kiss. "So far, I'm doing fine. More than fine," I added, because the truth was I was getting excited. Knowing I was going to be bound. Taken. Knowing that I was about to surrender totally, to submit completely.
I should be terrified. Should be writhing in a desperate attempt to get free.
Should be kicking Tyler in the balls.
But I wasn't. Just the opposite. Instead, I was looking forward to what came next with potent anticipation. And all because I trusted this man.
He turned away from me, then opened a drawer at the bottom of the dresser. When he came back, he held two coils of red rope.
I frowned. "I'm not sure if I should be glad you're experienced at this or irritated that I'm not the first woman you've done this to."
He sat beside me, then kissed me gently while his fingers played with my breasts. It was an intimate, casual moment, and reminded me again that right now, more than before, I was truly his to do with as he wished.
"You are the first," he said, his voice low and full of meaning. "The first. And the only."
"Tyler--"
"I know," he said. "I know it can't last. You've made it clear, and I get it. But that doesn't change the truth. I love you, Sloane," he said as he eased my leggings off. "And that will never change. Now," he said, with a quick change in tone. "Bring your knees to your chest."
I bit my lower lip, but complied. Then I held my breath as he wrapped the cord around my left leg just below my knee, effectively binding my calf to my thigh. Then he took the loose end of the cord and tied it to the post beside my hand, pulling it taut to take up the slack, and in that way holding my leg up, knee at my chest, my sex completely exposed.
He ran his fingers over me. "Your cunt is so wet, Sloane. I think you've been thinking naughty thoughts."
"Very," I said.
"Like what?"
"That I like this," I whispered, as he sank three fingers deep inside me. "That I like being at your mercy," I said, forcing the words out past a moan of deep pleasure. "That I like knowing that I'm yours. And not knowing what's coming."
"Good. Very good," he said, then repeated the process with the other leg. "Nice," he said, when he'd completed the task. "Now close your eyes."
I did, then jumped as he took hold of my knees, lifted me just a little, and spanked my ass.
"Not the best position for that," he said. "But I recall the lady liked the sensation. I wonder how far she'd like to go."
"Very far," I murmured. "All the way," I said, and he chuckled.
/>
"All the way it is," and then I felt the smack of his hand again--not on my ass, but on my sex. I cried out, the sensation unfamiliar and strange, and yet arousing, too. And when he did it again, the sting lingered, making my clit so sensitive that I thought a single burst of air might make me come.
"So sweet," he murmured, and I opened my eyes to see his mouth close intimately over me, and just the sight of him, laving me like that, made my body quiver with the need to draw him in.
Tyler complied, first with his tongue--thrusting it so deep I arched up, at least as much as the restraints allowed, and then bucked against him, in silent demand for more.
He gave me that more, his mouth sliding up to my breast as his hand teased and tormented my sex, sending waves of sensation swarming through me. I wanted to writhe, to move, but the minuscule amount of movement I was allowed did little to deflect the onslaught, and I was overwhelmed by the sensations, certain I was about to burst.
"I'm close," I said. "Oh, god, Tyler, I want you inside me. Please, I want to feel you in me when I come."
He stripped quickly, then knelt between my legs. He lifted me up just slightly with one hand as he took his cock in the other and positioned it against me.
"Yes," I said, the pleasure so acute I almost came at that moment. Then Tyler held my legs for leverage and thrust inside me. "Watch," he said. "Don't close your eyes."
I did, mesmerized by the way he thrust in and out of my body. Torn apart when I watched him take one hand off my leg so that he could tease my clit, sending me spiraling even higher.
"You're close," he said. "I can feel how tight you are. How close you are. Come on, baby. Come on, and let's go over together."
I listened to the sound of his voice, as if it could carry me all the way.
"Now, Sloane, now," he cried, and I exploded with him, my body reaching out for the heavens even though I was so thoroughly tied down to the bed.
The shudders ripped through me for what seemed like forever, and Tyler left me like that, his fingers slowly stroking me as if to draw out every last bit of pleasure.
"Stay with me," he murmured, as he touched me so intimately. "Don't go back to Indiana." He stroked my cheek, kissed my lips, teased my sex. "Stay."
I closed my eyes, wishing things were different. "I want to. Tyler, you have to know that I want to. But I can't. I'm a cop. I can't give it up. It's part of who I am. You know that."
"So be a Chicago cop. Or even in private security. Hell, you could work for BAS."
I laughed. "Because it's so up and up?"