Take Me Under

by Rhyannon Byrd

  “You okay?” He pumped into her with another thick, heavy lunge, his ridged cock head rubbing against that hot spot deep inside her that made her whimper and gasp. “Answer me, Reese. I’m not hurting you, am I?”

  “No!” she moaned, the pleasure obliterating whatever soreness she might be feeling. “Just don’t stop!”

  “Thank God,” he growled, driving hard and deep, and then he was right there with her. He made a thick, primitive sound deep in his chest, his strong hands gripping her hips as he pumped into her, the violence of his release letting her know that she hadn’t fallen into that breathtaking chasm alone. Even after the surreal burst of sensation, residual pulses of pleasure continued to pull low moans from their throats, their chests heaving as they tried to remember how to breathe.

  When their heat-glazed bodies had finally stilled, he collapsed onto the mattress beside her with a guttural groan, and she lowered her trembling legs, stretching out on her front. Resting her face on her crossed arms, Reese watched him deal with the second condom, then roll back toward her, his expression impossible to read. He looked satisfied, but intense, his dark gaze narrowed. Her thoughts still spinning and dazed, she found herself focusing on the fact that he had unbelievably long eyelashes for a man. She’d never noticed before, but it was impossible to miss when they were tangling together at the corners of his eyes.

  Rubbing his callused palm down her spine, he stared into her eyes and said, “He never fucked you worth a damn, did he?”

  She shivered again, needing to close her eyes to collect herself, but she couldn’t. The intensity in those green eyes held her, drawing her in, the raw force of his hunger making her feel more feminine than she ever had before. Even more than when she’d been a lithe twenty-three-year-old and Drew had taken her to the Caribbean. He’d promised to make love to her on the beach in the moonlight, but he’d gone off drinking with some other lawyers every night, then crawled back into bed in the mornings stinking of alcohol and smoke and cheap perfume. She’d bought his lies, because she hadn’t thought she could afford the truth.

  But Ben seemed determined to show her that she could take anything. There were no boundaries. No limits.

  She had to swallow to clear the lump of emotion in her throat before she could respond to his question. “No, he didn’t.”

  Instead of pity, which she would have hated, he gave her one of those smoldering looks that said he was thinking about everything they’d done together . . . and everything they were going to do. “Want me to kick his ass for you?”

  She pressed her lips together to hold in a giggle. “You know, I just might take you up on that offer.”

  “I hope you do. I’ve been wanting to smash his pretty face from the moment I set eyes on him.”

  “I wouldn’t mind smashing his face, either. But I’d rather not talk about him. He’s old news.”

  “Fair enough. Why don’t we grab another shower and make some dinner. Then crawl back into bed together.” He gave her a crooked smile as he patted her bottom. “If you’re lucky, I might even let you catch some sleep later.”

  Flustered, Reese sat up and grabbed for the top sheet, clutching it to her breasts as she stared down at him. “Don’t get me wrong, Ben. This . . . what’s happened . . . it’s been lovely. Wonderful. But I still don’t think it would be a good idea for you to stay the night.”

  He rolled to his back, his brow already creased in a scowl. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I think it’s important that we keep things as . . . as uncomplicated as possible.”

  “Jesus, Reese. You’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, biting her lip.

  With a low curse on his lips, he rolled into a sitting position at the side of the bed, his muscles bunching and flexing with breathtaking beauty as he moved to his feet and headed for the bathroom. When he came out, he was wearing the clean sweats he’d brought over, his running shorts thrown over his shoulder.

  “Ben, wait,” she pleaded, when he started to walk out of the room.

  He stopped in the middle of the floor and slid her a shuttered look that gave nothing away. “What?”

  She moved to the edge of the bed, putting her legs over the side. “I just . . . I didn’t mean to piss you off,” she whispered, feeling sick inside. How had everything gone so wrong, so quickly?

  He shoved his fingers through his hair, his dark eyes blazing with a volatile mix of anger, frustration, and disappointment. “Then stop pushing me away every time I get close to you.”

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to explain. “I wasn’t expecting you to want to stay. That’s not how I thought these things work. You know that Brit told me you don’t spend the night with the women you date. And we’re not even dating. We’re just . . . sleeping together.”

  Wondering what the fuck Brit had been thinking, Ben popped his jaw. “First off, Brit needs to keep her nose out of things that don’t concern her. And secondly, what I’ve done in the past has no bearing on what’s going on now.”

  “Okay.” But it was clear she was confused.

  His breath left his lungs in a sharp, angry burst. “Stop putting me in some damn box, Reese.”

  “I just don’t want to expect . . . too much.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s insulting as hell that you expect too little. You’re worth more than just a quick fuck and a have-a-nice-life.”

  Holding the sheet in a death grip, she said, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

  The quiet words turned his hot fury into something cold and chilling. “You might make me angry as hell, but we’re not done with each other,” he growled as he headed back toward the bed. “Not by a long shot.” Gripping her upper arms, he yanked her up and crushed her mouth against his in a kiss that was hot and hard and relentless, wanting to brand her in a way that would tell every other jackass out there exactly whom she belonged to. The unfamiliar compulsion reeked of possession, and he abruptly ended the kiss and let go of her, wondering what the hell he was doing.

  Jerking back from the bed, Ben’s voice was little more than a snarl as he reminded her to lock up behind him.

  Then he turned and got the fuck out of there.

  9

  MONDAY MORNING, BEN SAT BEHIND HIS DESK AT THE STATION IN A foul mood that was getting fouler by the second. He loved his job, loved the county and the people he worked with, but this morning everything and everyone were testing his patience. He felt like he’d had his skin peeled back, every nerve left raw and exposed, his head still reeling from those too short, too intense moments he’d spent in Reese’s bed. He’d been sitting there brooding for too damn long when he caught sight of one of his deputies walking past the open door to his office. “Hey, Ryder,” he called out. “You got a second?”

  The tall, dark-haired deputy stuck his head around the doorway. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Come on in and shut the door.”

  Scott Ryder had been with the department for about nine months now, and had worked some top-secret government job before that. He was a genius with computers, and Ben knew if there was anyone in the department who could get the answers he wanted, it would be Ryder. “I need you to do some research for me,” he said, after the deputy had taken a seat in one of the chairs that faced his desk.

  “On what?” Ryder asked, bracing an ankle on the opposite knee.

  “I need a workup on a lawyer up in Boston. I already got the basics down this weekend, but I’m looking for more.”

  Ryder’s brows lifted with interest. “Am I looking for anything specific?”

  “His ex-wife is a friend of my family. She just moved down a few days ago and is renting the beach house next door to mine. I need you to—”

  “Wait a minute,” Ryder said, interrupting him. “Are we talking about Reese Leighton?”

  Ben leaned back in his chair, his gaze locked hard on the deputy’s rugged face. Even with his shaggy hair and the scar that slashed from his temple to the middle of hi
s right cheek, Ryder was a good-looking guy. He gave off a hard, sometimes dangerous vibe, but then, there were a lot of women who went for that kind of thing. Ben just hoped Reese wasn’t one of them. “You know her?” he asked, wondering what their connection could be.

  “I’ve met her a few times,” the deputy explained, his tone curious. “Pretty girl.”

  “She’s twenty-eight,” he grunted. “Hardly a girl.”

  Ryder looked like he was suddenly trying to hold back a shit-eating grin. “That’s true. But then, she has that soft look of innocence about her. Know what I mean?”

  “Just do the damn report on Leighton and let me know what you find.”

  “Sure thing,” Ryder drawled, his dark eyes laughing as he lowered his foot to the floor. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows braced on his parted knees. “But are you going to tell me what I’m looking for?”

  Shit. Jealousy was making him act like a fucking idiot. “Reese had some trouble with a stalker up in Boston after her divorce. The local PD cleared her ex, but I want to know if he’s really clean or just good at covering his tracks. He’s still harassing her with phone calls, and now she’s gotten a strange text from a blocked number on her cell. If another text comes up, I’ll bring her phone in and have the IT guys look at it. It could be nothing, but I want to know if this bastard has picked up a burn phone that he’s using.”

  All traces of humor vanished from the deputy’s eyes. “Has anything happened since she got to town?”

  With his elbow braced on the arm of his chair, Ben rubbed his jaw. “Someone threw a bottle through one of her French doors on Friday night, but you know what it’s like here during the first weeks of summer break. It could have just been some kids getting out of hand.”

  “Could have been. But we also had that assault on Friday night.”

  “I know,” he said, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “Has the girl been able to give us any more details?”

  Ryder shook his head. “Nothing yet. He came up on her from behind, so she never even got a look at his face. All we know is that he’s around six feet and heavy with muscle.”

  They caught up on a few other department issues, and then Ryder headed out on a call, leaving Ben alone in his office again. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about yesterday. But it was impossible. He could hardly think about anything else. He’d known it was going to be good between him and Reese, but Christ, he hadn’t had a clue it would be so explosive . . . or mind-blowing. He tried to tell himself that sex that good would knock anyone for a loop, but he was still edgy over the way he’d reacted. He’d wanted to cling to her, for God’s sake. Hold her in his arms and drift off to sleep with her soft little body wrapped around him, and how many shades of fucked up was that?

  He hadn’t liked getting kicked out of her bed, but Ben knew that it’d been for the best. If he’d stayed, there was no telling how far things would have gone between them. He wasn’t ready to cut and run—far from it. But he definitely felt like he needed to watch his step where this woman was concerned. She was so goddamn different from anyone he’d ever been involved with. Unique. Refreshing. That strange combination of adorable and sexy that made him so fucking hot, he was surprised he hadn’t come away with burns.

  The way he felt about her, around her, was different, too. And that had him wound up more than anything.

  Normally, at this point the attraction would already be on the decline for him. Once that initial lust was slaked, Ben had never felt it to the same degree again. But that wasn’t the case with Reese. He didn’t know if it was because he’d wanted her for so long and hadn’t been able to have her, or if it was simply something about the woman herself. About the two of them together. Chemical? Biological? Whatever the fuck it was, his normal standard operating procedure wasn’t in play.

  Instead of easing, his goddamn need was even worse.

  Instead of bringing relief, he’d been left in a world of hurt, because he wanted more. Needed it. Was going out of his fucking mind thinking about it. He’d always curled his lip at addicts, thinking they just needed to man up and face the music. But he was getting a humbling lesson. He was just as susceptible as those poor bastards. He just hadn’t found his drug of choice before. And now that he had, he was jonesing for his next hit.

  Thankfully, his day got damn busy, and he was saved from sitting in his office, brooding about Reese. After a meeting with the mayor, he had a scheduled visit at a county youth detention center, where he taught the kids basketball, and then some work at the courthouse. It was four before he was back in his office again, only to find he’d had another call on his private line from Sanchez, his old partner in Miami. The guy had been trying to call him for a few days now, but Ben had been doing his best to avoid him. Not that he didn’t want to talk to Sanchez. Tony was a good friend and they hadn’t caught up in forever. But it sounded like there was a new development with the Houghton case, and Ben was finished with all of that. After the media had turned their backs on the police department, painting the drug lord out to be some kind of tragic hero, just because the guy knew whose pockets to grease, the DA had caved to public opinion and plea-bargained a lesser sentence. Ben had still been laid up in a hospital bed at the time, full of holes that a PCP-dosed Houghton had drilled into him, and he’d decided then and there that he was done with the bullshit. Whatever was going on back in Miami, he wanted no part of it.

  What he did want was to talk to Reese, and he couldn’t hold off any longer. Pulling her number up on his BlackBerry, he put the call through.

  After two rings, she answered. “Hey,” she said, sounding a little breathless, but happy to hear from him. “You having a good day?”

  Wondering what she was doing, he said, “It’s been busy. And I’ve been distracted.”

  “By what?”

  “You.” He swiveled his chair around, staring out his office window at the park trees swaying in the breeze. “I thought maybe you’d let me take you for a walk on the beach when I get home. Maybe even fool around a bit behind the dunes.”

  “Sounds . . . sandy,” she murmured, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

  “What if I promise to keep you so distracted, you don’t notice the sand?”

  He loved the husky sound of her laughter. “Tempting. But it’ll still be daylight then. I’d hate to be responsible for the esteemed sheriff of Moss Beach County getting arrested for indecent exposure and lewd public behavior.”

  Ben sighed with defeat. “Then if you’re not going to let me have my way with you on the beach, come out to dinner with me instead.”

  “Oh. Um, tonight’s not really good for me. The thing with the alarm company took forever, and now I’m really running behind. I hate living out of boxes, but I’m hoping I can have the kitchen finished up before going to bed.”

  “We can unpack together after dinner. I’ll even do all the heavy lifting.”

  She gave a quiet snort. “You’re such a guy.”

  “After yesterday,” he drawled, “I’m hoping that’s something you’re happy about.”

  “Oh, definitely.”

  Ben wondered if she was biting her lip and blushing. He’d figured she’d be shy after everything they’d done together. Hell, he’d have been willing to bet on it, and it made him grin. But his grin fell as she said, “But I really don’t feel like going out tonight.”

  Shit. Maybe he’d read her wrong. Was she trying to avoid being seen with him in town?

  Tired of dancing around the issue, he asked, “What’s going on, Reese? Are you embarrassed to be seen out in town with me?”

  “What? No! Why would you even think that?”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “What the hell am I supposed to think? What’s the big deal about us going out to dinner together?”

  “I don’t know.” Her quiet voice was tense. “I just . . . It’s me, Ben. You know I’m not good at this . . . at whatever we’re doing. I’m trying to keep thing
s straight in my head. Going out like that with you—it will make it more difficult. Make it feel like we’re . . . well, like we’re dating, and that’s not really what we’re doing.”

  No. They were just fucking. He should have been happy she was accepting the limits of what he was willing to offer. But he wasn’t. Instead, he hated that what they had was being labeled and put in a damn box. Hated this arbitrary list of what they could and couldn’t do together. Screwing like a couple of minks, acceptable. But eating together in a restaurant, denied.

  “You went to Brit’s barbecue with me,” he pointed out, trying not to sound like he was snarling.

  “That was before we started sleeping together.”

  “Fine. I’ll find something else to do. Just . . . be careful tonight.”

  “Yeah. You, too.”

  He hung up and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing his hands down his face. Damn woman was twisting him into knots and he didn’t like it. Knowing he’d just be knocking on her door if he went home, Ben called his brothers and asked if they wanted to meet him at the Hoop, a local sports bar where they often grabbed meals together. When he got to the bar, Mike had already snagged them a table. They ordered a couple of beers while waiting for Alex to arrive, and Ben brought Mike up to speed on the things Reese had told him about Boston.

  “I’ve got Ryder doing a check on the ex,” he explained in a low voice, making sure they couldn’t be overheard. “If anyone can dig up dirt, it’s him. But this is personal. If I need it, you gonna back me up?” Mike worked for the DEA and was a serious badass in his own right.

  “Yeah, I’ll back you up.” His brother grinned, saying, “But I can’t see you needing it against the Yankee lawyer.”

  “One-on-one, yeah. But I don’t trust him. He’s got money, which means he’s got options.”