Dirty Deeds

by AJ Nuest

  God, he made her crazy. Two minutes in, and she was practically ready to beg.

  He drew back a fraction and his arms tensed, muscles like steel bands, holding her so tight she stopped squirming. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down, every synapse chanting for more, her pulse beating an erratic rhythm in her ears.

  He eased the head inside and the exhilarating rush of skin-on-skin contact catapulted her above the stratosphere.

  Shit. They’d just crossed a dangerous line. One she’d never ignored before. But Kelly had said he was clean and she believed him. The other problem of an unplanned pregnancy? Well, that wasn’t a problem.

  Not for her, anyway. Not anymore.

  He exhaled a string of curses past her ear. “I’ve never gone bareback before. Fuck, you feel good, but if you want me to stop, you’d better tell me now.”

  She whimpered, a breath trapped in her throat against the urge to ram her ass against him so he would fill her, sink all the way in to the base. God, no, she didn’t want him to stop. Hell, she couldn’t form the words if she tried. The way he throbbed inside her, the slight stretch came down just this side of heaven.

  A husky chuckle, the slow rotation of his hips, and he pulled out only to plow another slow drive through her weeping folds. His arms relaxed, and she took his cue to writhe and move, stroking him between her legs, thumbing the slit as she shuddered and bucked.

  And all the time she wanted him back. Exactly where he belonged.

  He grabbed her waist, signaling her to stop, slowly entered a second time and went still.

  Goddamn it. She gritted her teeth. This constant taunting was sheer torture. And bliss. His hips jerked, and she puffed a few quick breaths as the motion caused her to clamp down tight. A hoarse growl as he gradually withdrew, and he replayed the sequence again and again, each time bringing her closer to the edge, thrusting deeper, until both of them were slick and panting, their arousal a palpable entity that coated the room.

  “Fuck, baby, I can’t…” He forked his fingers down past where they were joined. A shiver stole through her body as he rubbed and patted until she nearly came apart in his arms. “Shit, if I keep going, I won’t be able to—”

  “Shhh…” She wound an arm behind his head and fisted his hair. Dammit. She closed her eyes. How was it he consistently made her break every single one of her rules?

  But a lie of omission was still a lie. How could she ignore that when her actions directly influenced his next move?

  She sighed and dug way down deep, uncovering her most guarded secret of all. The one she’d never admitted to another living soul. “I made the decision a long time ago, Kelly. In my line of work, having children is too risky. So I removed the threat. Because I never wanted to be tempted with putting an innocent in harm’s way.”

  He stiffened behind her, but he didn’t pull away. She turned her head to read whatever reaction might be on his face. Bracing for rejection. Possibly even disgust.

  Instead, understanding filled his eyes, darkened by compassion. Maybe a hint of anger. “You wouldn’t do that, Eden.” He jammed his hand into her hair, cupping her cheek. “I spend most days trying to figure out why the hell people do the things they do, and I know for a fact, you’d never hurt a kid.” His lips feathered hers in a kiss. “Jesus, woman, everything about you makes me ache. But I’m here to tell ya those days are over. No more desperate circumstances or bullshit choices no person should ever have to make. Not with me. You got that?”

  Unbelievable. Completely and totally unbelievable.

  She’d just confessed to undergoing a procedure so she could never have children. On purpose. And yet, every time they took a step closer, she found acceptance in the last place she would’ve ever expected.

  How could anyone do that? She raked her nails along his scalp, enjoying the way her touch made the green flecks in his eyes sharpen with desire.

  The last time she’d questioned his motives, he’d said she deserved to have someone fight for her. Even if that meant fighting her to make sure she stayed safe. In her experience, people just didn’t go around offering that type of commitment. Not without getting something in return. “Kelly, what in the world would make you say such a thing?”

  One side of his lips curved in a devilish smile. “Because then I get to be the guy who proves to you you’re worth it.”

  Her brow twitched in surprise at the same moment pleasure sang through her body. Could everything he’d done for her be explained away that easily?

  Not a chance. “Now that, Detective, is some serious romantic crap.”

  He chuckled as she urged him down to her lips for another kiss. A third brush of his generous mouth and she flicked her tongue in time with his, accepting everything he gave her, returning each nibble and taste he took from her with one of her own.

  A slow gyration of his hips, and her core throbbed, aching and needy. She arched her back as his fingers skimmed a light trail down the center of her breasts and shivered as he devoured the side of her throat. The prickly texture of his beard teased her skin. The pad of his thumb circled and thrummed, coaxing her higher. A slight adjustment to the angle, and she gasped as he drove forward in one penetrating thrust.

  A deep growl rolled up from his chest as she jutted her hips forward, squirming against his hand. “That’s it, baby. Ride me as hard as you want.”

  Oh God, the erotic meaning in his words. The expert way he toyed with her body.

  The wavering firelight dimmed behind her closed eyelids. Every ridge and vein kneaded her from inside as he rammed home again and again. A furious rub of his thumb, and she wound tight. The surge built. Reaching between her legs, she gathered him in her hand and squeezed.

  His breath snagged, and he swore a blue streak. The swift, hot jerk of his orgasm met hers like a flash of lightning, and she convulsed as he pumped into her. Faster, harder. Prolonging the pleasure until light and a weightless buoyancy flooded her arms and legs, the ends of her fingers and tips of her toes.

  He groaned, pulled back and sank deep, twitched a second time and she spasmed again, squeezing her eyes as ecstasy pulsed through her body.

  “Christ.” Kelly collapsed behind her, his arm a dead weight on her waist, legs heavy and immobile between hers. A moment passed before he filled his lungs and dotted her shoulder with kisses. “Okay, if that doesn’t change your mind about snuggling before a fire, I’m not sure anything will.”

  She laughed, but the sound came out weak, sated, a feeble attempt at pushing her full body buzz aside. “Mission accomplished, Detective. Any time you want me before the fire, just say the word.”

  “The word.”

  Another laugh, and she captured his hand, bringing it to her breast. “Here. Play with this while I take a second to regroup.”

  She yawned and tucked her arm under a throw pillow, centering it beneath her cheek. The snap and sizzle of the fire bathed the room in a relaxing glow. Her heartbeat slowed and her breathing deepened. God, she couldn’t move. Even with him nestled inside her, she didn’t have the energy to budge an inch. Or maybe she just plain didn’t want to break away from him.

  In a single afternoon, Kelly had maxed out every single one of her needs—mental, physical, emotional. If he wanted to stay linked, she was happy to roll with it.

  He coasted his thumb over the top of her breast. “Tell me one last thing before you fall asleep.”

  Oh, good grief. She grunted, wriggling her ass. She’d already shared everything she was with him, confessed all her dirty little secrets and then some. He officially knew her better than anyone else. What in God’s name could she have left out? “No. Let me sleep.”

  He leaned in and whispered against her ear. “What’s the password?”

  Wait. He didn’t know how to get through the line at Dirty Deeds? She smiled toward the fire. Okay, maybe she hadn’t told him everything. How awesome was that?

  She cleared her throat.
“What password?”

  The sharp edge of his teeth nipped her earlobe. “So that’s the way it is, huh? Fine. I’ll figure it out sooner or later. And, when I do, maybe I’ll formulate a little revenge of my own.”

  Ha! As if that were a threat. “I can’t wait.”

  “Better be careful,” he teased. “I can think of many, many ways to make you pay.”

  Yeah, still not scared. “When you come up with one that involves Redi-Whip, let me know.”

  His warm chuckle ruffled her curls, and Eden closed her eyes, giving up reality for the safety and sweet dreams she found in Kelly’s arms.

  Chapter 15

  A log shifted in the fireplace, and Kelly jerked awake, darting a sharp glance around the dark interior of his living room.

  Dammit. He slumped, raking a clump of hair off his sweaty brow. For Christ’s sake, he had to get a grip on his nerves.

  A sarcastic huff blurted past his lips, and he glanced at the beautiful woman stretched along the blankets on his left. Yeah, fat chance of that happening any time soon.

  Tipping his head back on the pillows, he tuned his ears to the gentle rain pattering against the sliding glass doors under the crackle and hiss of the fire. Well, thank God for small favors. At least the wind had left off its caterwauling, and the rain had eased up enough his house no longer suffered the blunt force trauma of the storm.

  A deep yawn cracked his jaw, and he fumbled his hand along the edge of the coffee table, located his phone and tapped the screen. Five fucking a.m. Awesome. That made two hours since his last time check, and during those two hours, no matter how hard he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to manage anything more than a flimsy doze.

  Not that his restlessness was Eden’s fault. Overall agitation when it came to working the particulars of a case was pretty much standard operating procedure for any cop. The minute she’d opened up about her past, his investigative instincts had kicked into overdrive, and the gears in his head had refused to stop cranking out possible murder suspects regardless of how hard he yanked on the lever.

  Only problem was, not a single scenario he came up with seemed plausible. Despite how he flipped and rearranged the clues, each theory left a trail of unanswered questions, and none of them formed a cohesive picture that made a lick of sense.

  Which meant somewhere during Eden’s admission of all things Dirty Deeds, he’d missed a piece, and the idea he’d somehow failed her in doing so was enough to drive him fucking nuts.

  She’d done her part. Hell, she’d rejected everything she believed in to give up the details of her life. Now came the phase in the investigation when he was supposed to step to the plate and do his, and follow through on his promise to make sure she’d never have to stare another threat in the face again.

  Her curvy little body wriggled beside him, and he wound his arm around her waist, tugging her into his hips. A muted whimper wrinkled her nose, and he skimmed a light kiss up and down her arm until she resettled into the slow, gentle breathing of deep sleep.

  Shit, the mouthwatering scent of her skin was a total turn-on. His dick got tight before he had the chance to exhale. So was the velvety softness of her shoulder. And he couldn’t even form words to describe the addictive slope leading to the pulse point in her throat.

  He licked and nibbled the tender spot under her ear until her heartbeat kicked a notch faster under his lips.

  God, his physical response to her was hands-down crazy. One whiff. One taste. One fucking sweep of his mouth over her body and he was harder than a testosterone-fueled version of himself as a horny teenager. The only thing he could think about was kissing her awake so he could sink deep, drive them both back to the place where murder and heartache and all her bad memories became nothing but meaningless shadows of the past.

  She whined at the disruption, hiking her shoulder against the way his beard rasped her neck, and fidgeted under the comforter. Nuzzling her ear, he tugged on the lobe with his teeth before backing off.

  Yeah, maybe she was right. He’d already woken her once, greedy with need. Hot and anxious to confirm the way she’d let him come inside her wasn’t just his libido working overtime to provide the most erotic wet dream he’d ever had.

  If he played this game much longer, he wouldn’t be able to think straight, and it was better he work the case while the facts were still clear in his head. Being anywhere near her was a distraction. A mind-numbing, cock-fisting distraction. And if he hoped to stretch their time together into the unforeseeable future…

  He grimaced. Jesus.

  Where the hell had that come from?

  Easing away from her, he propped several throw pillows along her back, ass and legs to fill the empty space, and then wrapped her in the covers so she’d be nice and warm.

  Standing near her feet, he studied the way her dark lashes fanned the tops of her cheeks, lips parted, hands fisted in a ball under her chin. Shit. Was a long-term relationship with Eden really what he wanted? Apparently, his subconscious was a go for launch. Too bad he’d sworn off any sort of permanent commitments, especially when it came to the emotional entanglements he found prevalent in protecting a witness. And even more so after living through that nightmare of a fistfuck with his ex.

  Still… He squinted at the slender line of Eden’s shoulder blade, peeking over the top of the comforter, the perfect triangle framed by the arm hole of his A-shirt. Jaclyn had never belonged in his clothes the way Eden did. And his ex sure as hell never got under his skin the way Eden had in just a few days.

  Squatting on his haunches, he collected the used paper plates and discarded water bottles, stacked the rest of the uneaten food on his arm and shoved to his feet. Same held true of the sinking panic he fought whenever thoughts of being separated from Eden trickled into his mind.

  He entered the kitchen and dumped the leftovers into the garbage, rinsed the fruit bowl and stowed it in the dishwasher. There was just something about her that was…well, perfect. Even the thought of another guy touching her, knowing her and sharing her secrets, made him want to punch a hole in the wall.

  Hell, after learning the direction her life had taken, he couldn’t even find fault in her decision to never have kids. Not that her verdict was a deal breaker anyway, since he’d never given a family of his own much thought. But, if and when the moment ever arrived for him to make that choice, who was to say he wouldn’t have come to the same conclusion?

  He worked homicide, for Christ’s sake. The hazards of his job were many and the rewards few. For him to traipse headfirst into the American dream of a wife and two point five kids without seriously considering the risks, would be just plain stupid.

  Besides, according to Eden—not to mention the steady stream of adult addicts Archer paraded through the precinct—there were plenty of neglected kids on the streets who were already in need of some sound parental guidance.

  Jerking open the refrigerator handle, Kelly rummaged through the top shelf for something to drink. It was too early for coffee, especially if he hoped for another shot at catching some shut-eye, and too late for alcohol in case his efforts proved worthless and he ended up staying awake.

  He grabbed the orange juice, poured a glass and doused the arid desert at the back of his throat. A quick refill, and he rounded the breakfast bar, heading down the hall for the guest bedroom he’d converted into a home office.

  Maybe the better choice would be for him and Eden to formulate a plan to offer those troubled teens a leg up. After all, she and her friends had been only too happy to agree to Smith’s terms. They’d jumped at the chance for a roof over their heads and a guaranteed daily food quota even when the outcome had pitted them against each other in some bizarre competition ala Father Knows Best.

  With the right groundwork, a good chance existed the two of them could make a real difference. Instead of forcing kids who were already near the breaking point to achieve some sort of unreasonable ideal, each of their strengths could be
cultivated on an individual basis. He and Eden could provide a safe, secure environment, no strings attached.

  Hauling up short in his office doorway, Kelly stared at his laptop, lying closed on top of his desk. A sardonic chuckle cinched his stomach, and he ran his hand down the stubble on his face. Damned if he wasn’t doing it again. Envisioning a future that included Eden when he wasn’t even sure what tomorrow might bring.

  What the hell? He strode into the room and dropped into his computer chair, spun toward the desk and fired up his laptop. The entire concept of him and Eden fostering homeless kids was a pipe dream. As dangerous as their chosen professions were, no case worker would consider them viable candidates. For Christ’s sake, he wasn’t even sure if Eden had a social security number.

  He winced as the browser popped open bright enough to illuminate the entire room. Yet, a kernel of something was there. The shell of an idea. And if he knew himself as well as he thought he did, that seed would fester in the old gray matter until he’d followed it through to a logical conclusion.

  Scrolling through his inbox, he located Archer’s email and tapped the mouse. The cover letter was blank, but Archer had never been one for extraneous words. Kelly clicked on the attachments and dragged them to his desktop.

  The first file contained DeFranco’s finalized lab report on Ruby but, after a quick scan of the contents, Kelly didn’t find anything new. Corroboration of DeFranco’s sixth sense when it came to postulating the events surrounding a crime. If he’d ever made a wrong assumption, Kelly had yet to hear about it.

  He minimized the file, but kept it open in case he needed to recheck any of the details for comparison.

  The labs on Smith made up the second attachment, along with several autopsy photos and the CSI report of the scene. No fibers had been found. No prints or hair other than those belonging to the vic. Tox screen showed Smith had been injected with a mild sedative, puncture wound located in the back of the neck, and it was DeFranco’s hypothesis that Smith had been drugged prior to being tortured so the perp could more easily set the scene.