by Cat Mason
I only hope I can handle what this could do to my heart.
At the rate my feeling are growing for him, I can’t help have some concern for what it will feel like when they come crashing back down to reality. I have often found that if it feels too good to be true, that’s because the boom is about to come down and slap you right in the face. Reality can be sweet and wonderful. It can also be a demolition crew that will remind you that what you see isn’t always what you get to keep.
Dismissing the unwelcome thoughts that will only ruin the mood, and cause more conversation that I would rather not have right now, I push them from my mind while my fingers work at Matt’s belt buckle. Our clothes are quickly strewn around the room, along with every rational thought in my head. Shoving him to the couch, I straddle his thighs as his hands roam my body. Reaching between us, I wrap my fingers around his cock, giving him a slow stroke before guiding him inside me. His head lulls back against the cushions, the air rushing out of him on a pleasure-filled groan. Closing his eyes tightly, he grips the back of my neck with one hand, while the other hand stays firmly planted on my hip. Though I know he wants to move, he doesn’t.
“Mmm, Matt,” I moan, my fingers running into his hair as I swivel my hips slowly. “You feel so good.”
“Ah hell.” His hand at my hip tightens its hold, his handsome face almost looking pained. I can see how hard it is for him to stay still. It makes me want him that much more.
“Good?” I ask, pressing my lips to his neck.
“Fuckin’ great, babe,” he breathes. “Please move.”
“Please?” I ask, grinding down on him. “Is that what you said?”
“Fuck yes,” he grounds out, his eyes flying open to meet mine, the blue furiously churning like an angry sea. “Please grind down on my cock. Fucking ride me, Sienna.”
I do exactly that. Each movement of my hips is slow and calculated. I want to enjoy every second of this. Enjoy him. Us. My lips trail down his neck, tasting and teasing while he makes the sexiest sounds I have ever heard. Each time my name leaves his lips, it only fuels the frenzy, only increases the need I have for his touch.
Clinging to his shoulders, I throw my head back, my release slamming into me so hard it steals my breath. “That’s it, baby.” Matt’s voice is thick and rough. “Take your pleasure from me. Fuck that’s beautiful.”
His hips shift, driving up into me in slow, yet powerful thrusts. Our mouths meet in a wild kiss filled with clashing teeth and tangling tongues. Matt chases his orgasm like a man crazed. I love it. My body jolts with the force of each slam of his hips. Every growl leaving his lips is greedily devoured by me until it feels like he is the only thing holding me upright.
“Damn, baby,” Matt grunts, ripping his mouth from mine. Brushing his nose along mine, his body stills. “You can’t tell me this doesn’t feel right.”
“You’re right,” I agree, collapsing to his chest as I attempt to catch my breath. “I can’t.”
That’s what scares me.
With everything good I have in my life being attacked mercilessly, admitting that only adds to the inventory of potential things I have to lose.
Chapter 17
Sienna
I slept like shit. Even after a long, hot shower and Matt’s body pressed into mine all night, I felt restless. Though I hated every second, I decided Matt and Liam were right last night, when we talked about it, and made the tough decision to open the bakery late, for the first time ever, in order to go down to the police station with Matt before his shift starts and take out the restraining order on Jimmy. However, I did make sure to stop by the bakery and grab their daily order, along with leaving a note on the front door saying I will be opening around nine. After listening to the details, the Chief took it upon himself to handle the paperwork needed to put things in motion as quickly as possible.
Matt looks murderous as I recount the details from the night Jimmy showed up at my house with his flowers and crazy ideas of me ever taking his stupid ass back. Of course, having walked up on the last bit, he hadn’t heard everything that was said. Sadly, my storytelling doesn’t end there. I am asked several questions about my relationship with Jimmy. Including the reason for me calling it quits. By the time I have spilled the beans on everything Jimmy Anderson, Matt’s fists are balled at his sides and his jaw is ticking in time with the second hand on the clock.
“That should do it, Sienna,” Chief says, pushing to his feet. “Don’t worry about any of this. Leave everything to us.”
“Thanks, Chief,” I say, though his words carry no weight for me. The piece of paper that will be served to Jimmy will do little more than agitate him further.
I’m running out of windows for people to smash.
Standing with me, Matt follows me out of the office and up the hall. “I’ll walk you down to Sweets,” he says, his hand settling on my lower back. “Maybe dry hump you against that display case.”
“As appealing as that sounds” I say, coming to a stop just shy of the front doors. “I’m pretty sure the idea of an indecent exposure charge could be the ultimate mood killer.” Turning to face him, my fingers come up to straighten his collar. “Besides, don’t you have some serving and protecting to do, Hunk P.D.?”
“I’m fuckin’ trying,” he replies gruffly. “Someone should tell her to stop being so goddamn stubborn.”
“Keep your pants on, hot stuff,” I tease, patting him on the chest. “You can work your bump and grind on me all you want when you’re not on the clock.”
“Count on it, baby,” he murmurs, crashing his lips down on mine. His kiss is bruising and possessive, meant to taunt me and leave me wanting. It does. In spades. Damn him. “I’ll stop in later,” he says, releasing his hold on me.
Nodding my head, I push through the doors and start up the street before I do something stupid like agree to let him walk me up to the shop so we can have a quickie against the wall, next to the register.
The minute I unlock the door and step inside, I immediately regret it. The lights above the counter are on and my stereo is playing a song I have never heard before. The lyrics are haunting and have chills running down my spine the second they hit my ears. Stepping back, I turn for the door, ready to run like hell back down to the police station.
“Don’t even think about it.” The harsh female voice makes me jump. Turning toward the table in the corner, my blood runs cold when I see the woman who successfully helped ruin pizza for me sitting in a chair, watching me intently. Placing a gun on the table, she kicks out the chair opposite her, sending it back into the wall. “It’s time we have a chat.”
“Hope?” I ask, my tone coming out sharper than the wings on her bright blue eyeliner. “How the hell did you get in here?”
“Sit down,” she barks, gesturing to the chair with her free hand. “Now.”
I jolt at her harsh command, my eyes staying locked on the gun. Breathe, Sienna. I hear Matt’s voice in my ear clear as day. Inhale. Exhale. I can do this. “Sure. Of course.”
“Lose the bag,” she says, jerking her chin toward the counter.
Doing as she asked, I move toward the counter, counting to ten in my head as I go, in an attempt to calm my nerves. Now is not the time to freak the fuck out. I have to make sure I do whatever necessary to keep the upper hand in this situation. If I can keep my focus on making her believe that she has control over this scenario, I can hopefully find a way out of here without getting hurt. Or ending up dead. Not wanting to set her off any further, I make my movements slow and pronounced. Sitting across from her, I place my hands at the edge of the table.
Inhale.
Exhale.
“I don’t get it,” she says, shaking her head in disgust. “There’s nothing special about you. What’s the big fucking deal?”
“Excuse me?” I blurt, unable to bite back the response to her insult.
“You,” she says, gesturing at me with the gun in her hand. “I followed him here, you know? He sat outsi
de this morning for an hour waiting on you to show up. For what?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, trying to make sense of her rambling.
“He wants you.” Rolling her eyes, she waves the gun toward the display case. Jimmy lies motionless on the floor beside it, his eyes closed. “Instead of me. He’d rather have you. What could he possibly see in you that makes you better than me?”
My blood runs cold. “Hope.” Holding up my hands, I try to steady my voice. “What did you do?”
“What I should’ve done when he broke it off with me and went to your house to get you back,” she says smugly. “Eliminate the problem.”
“I don’t want him back,” I explain, hoping to diffuse the situation. “He’s been told that. More than once. He knows it’s over between us. I’ve moved on.”
“That’s not good enough,” she replies, shaking her head. “I know, now, as long as you’re breathing, you’ll always be competition. I won’t have you getting in the way of my happiness. I can’t risk losing him. Not now, not ever.”
“He’s not dead?” I ask, unable to see him very well from where I am sitting.
Her eyes widen, shock and hatred filling her features. “Of course he isn’t dead, you stupid bitch.” Pressing her free hand to her stomach, she stares lovingly at Jimmy. “I’d never hurt the father of my baby. She will have everything I didn’t. Including a daddy that loves her.”
It isn’t until she stands and removes her jacket, that a sense of full-blown panic begins to set in. My chest tightens painfully, dread settling heavy in my gut. Hope is wearing the dress I wore to Dirty Dog on my birthday, along with a pair of my black knee-high leather boots. My eyes lock on the barely there nail polish stain on the hemline of the dress, proving that it is actually my dress. Barely noticeable unless you know to look for it, like I do. “You’ve been in my house.”
“I’m going to be everything Jimmy needs me to be,” she says, gesturing down her body. “I’m going to be you.”
The door swings open, the bells chiming as a woman steps inside the shop. Stopping dead in her tracks, her eyes widen. Hope raises her arm, aiming the gun at her. “We’re fucking closed!” she yells, firing off a round into the wall.
Screaming, the woman bolts out the door. I wince when Hope’s hate-filled stare is directed at me again, the gun now pointed in my direction. “I think it’s time to wake up Jimmy. It’s important, for closure, that he sees you take your last breath.”
The minute Hope turns for Jimmy, I slide my feet out of my heels and make my move for the door. If I’m going to die, I’m going out trying to get the fuck out of here. Hope screams. The gun goes off again, making my heart skip a beat. I attempt to dive behind the chair, only to be yanked back by my hair. “Where do you think you’re going, bitch?” she grounds out, slamming me into the side of the counter. My head bounces off the edge, sending me sprawling to the tile. Before I can attempt to get up, her knee presses hard into my back, pinning me to the floor as she begins binding my wrists behind me. “We’re just getting started.”
Chapter 18
Matt
Getting a call of shots fired is one that every officer dreads. It means trouble, in every sense of the word. You never can truly know what you are pulling up on, or how things will play out. But, when I happen to overhear the call come into dispatch, and the address comes back as Sienna’s bakery, I nearly come un-fucking-glued. I don’t even bother with my car, and take off on foot down the street just as I spot McKnight pulling up out front and leaping from his car.
The thought of her in danger has my hands itching to bust in there and do something. Anything.
With one of the large windows still boarded up, from the other day, it is hard to get a visual on anyone inside. We don’t know shit, other than there is a woman holding Sienna inside at gunpoint. “Fuck this,” I mutter, storming toward the building. “I’ll be damned if I sit here and do nothing.”
“The fuck are you doing?” McKnight asks, fumbling with his radio.
“Not waiting for backup.”
Heading for the alley, I switch off my radio and draw my gun. Making it to the backdoor, I find it unlocked and partially ajar. Part of the door looks mangled, like it was pried open. Shit. She was fucking ambushed. Rage roars hot and heavy through my veins. Slipping inside, I take in the trashed kitchen. Everything that was baked and prepared yesterday is thrown all over the room, trays and utensils scattered all over the floor. Carefully, I maneuver around the debris, wanting to maintain the element of surprise until the right moment.
“Don’t you see?” the female voice says. “Everything will be so much better once she’s gone, baby. We can finally be happy.”
“Listen to me, Hope. You need to give me the gun.” I recognize Jimmy’s voice immediately. Motherfucking bastard. “The goddamn cops are outside, ready to haul your ass away for twenty years because you’ve gone fucking psycho.”
“I told you I’d never let you leave me,” she warns. “Not for her. Not for anyone.”
Peeking around the corner, I take in the room, working various possible ways to end this in my head. Jimmy stands with his back to me, a towel pressed to what appears to be a head wound. From this angle, his body blocks me from getting a clear shot on the woman with the gun pointed at Sienna. His only saving grace right now is that he is trying to diffuse the situation, instead of fuel it. My heart seizes in my chest when my eyes land on my girl. Her mouth is gagged with what looks like a dishtowel, hands appearing to be tied behind her back as she kneels beside the display case.
“I’m not leaving you, Hope. That was a mistake. I know that now, babe,” Jimmy says, holding up his hands in surrender. “We can go right now. Anywhere you want. Just give me the gun.”
“You don’t mean that,” Hope shakes her head. “You won’t really ever want me. Not as much as you want her.”
Crouching down, I work my way through the kitchen doorway, staying low so it is easy for me to duck behind the counter and not be seen. Hope takes a step toward Sienna, pressing the gun to her temple. “This is how it has to be, Jimmy.” Bowing her head, Sienna closes her eyes, silent tears streaming down her face and falling onto her thighs.
Like hell.
Surging forward, I make my move. Firing, I nail Hope in the hand holding the gun. She screams, her entire arm jerking toward me at the same time I dive for my girl. The gun goes off once before falling to the floor at her feet. The bullet slams into me, knocking me back into the side of the display case as I shove Sienna behind it. Sienna’s screams are muffled through the makeshift gag in her mouth as she frantically tries to scramble for me. “I’m good,” I grunt quickly, knowing she isn’t safe until I have the other gun. “Stay the fuck down.”
McKnight busts through the door, his gun trained on Hope, who is now lying on the ground, wailing in pain as she clutches her injured hand. “You shot me!” she screams, in disbelief. “I’m pregnant and you shot me!”
“You hurt?” McKnight asks, looking to me, his brows knitting together in concern.
“I’m good.” Pressing a hand to my side, I hiss out a breath. “Hit the vest. Just stings like a bitch.”
“On your knees,” McKnight barks at Jimmy. “Hands behind your head. I’m detaining you, too, Anderson, until we figure out what’s what around here.” Walking over, he kicks the gun across the room toward me, then lets dispatch know we need medical units on scene.
Returning my gun to my holster, I help Sienna to her feet and make quick work of freeing her wrists and removing the gag. “Are you okay?” she asks, her hands flying to my chest the second they’re free. “She shot you. Matt, she shot you.”
“I’m whole. Bullet hit my vest,” I explain, cupping her face in my hands. “Come here, baby. Let me look you over.”
“I’m fine,” she chokes out, a sob tearing from her chest.
Releasing her face, I pull her into my arms. Coming willingly, Sienna buries her face in my chest, her
legs nearly giving out beneath her as she cries. “I’ve got you,” I whisper into her hair, though at this point I’m not sure if that statement is more for her benefit or mine.
Lifting her into my arms, I carry her across the room, settling her on the far end of the counter. I want her as far from Hope and Jimmy as I can possibly get her. Releasing my hold on her, I begin working the buttons on my shirt before yanking the Velcro loose on my vest. It doesn’t completely ease the pain, though it sure as shit makes it a lot easier to breathe for the time being. I will no doubt have a massive bruise for weeks, if I didn’t manage to crack a rib or two as well.
* * *
It doesn’t take long before there is a crowd forming on the other side of the street, everyone trying to get a look at what went down. Though in custody, Hope is taken to the hospital to treat her gunshot wound. The entire time she is being loaded up into the ambulance, she is screaming about police brutality and her plans to sue the entire state of Georgia for her mistreatment. Jimmy, who turns out didn’t have a damn thing to do with any of this, decided against treatment and hauled ass out of dodge the moment he was done giving his statement. Not even glancing our way, which is good. I’d gladly take the write up I’d get for beating his ass if he had even so much as breathed in Sienna’s direction. Innocent of this shit or not, that bastard put his hands on her. His day is coming if I have anything to say about it.
Piece of shit won’t even see me coming.
Briggs and Kelsie arrive on the scene, immediately putting an end to Sienna’s arguing with me about going to the hospital to get the knot checked out that is forming on her forehead. Let’s face it, the three of us are pretty damn intimidating. The bulk of that being Briggs threatening to hog tie her ass and lock her in her condo with her cat, Bob, for an entire weekend.
After numerous tests, and what feels like days waiting, Sienna is cleared to go home on the condition she is monitored in case of a concussion and takes it easy for the next few days. Something I plan to make sure she does, even if it means I have to take vacation time and lock her in my bedroom for a week.