His eyes darken, and then he shrugs. “Don’t know.”
Defeated, I try an easier question. “What kind of work do you do as a PI?”
“Surveillance mostly. Spent the morning watching a building. Gotta get back out there in an hour. Came by to see if you were okay after what happened at the hospital. I would’ve come by yesterday, but I was on a job and had to keep radio silence. Sent a text.”
“I got it. Thanks. Anything else about what you do?”
“Nope.”
With a sigh, I say, “Well, I really feel like I know you better now. Guess I’ll see you around.”
Ray stares at me for a moment like he wants to say something, but then he just nods. “Later.”
When he turns away, I grab my purse from the counter where I dropped it before going to check out the modeling software, and a rolled-up picture falls out.
Ray’s picture. Even though I’m annoyed, I want him to have it.
“Ray. Wait.”
He turns, and I hold out the picture. “This is for you.”
He closes the distance between us and takes it from my hand. “What’s this?”
“Take a look.” My face heats and I bite my lip. What if he doesn’t like it? I was so excited to be finished that I never thought about how he might react.
Ray unrolls the picture and his body stills.
“It’s you.” My voice wavers. “The first time I saw you fight. You were so beautiful to me. I’ve had that image in my head since that night. And that’s me standing by the pillar.”
Long seconds pass and he doesn’t look up.
“It’s okay if you don’t like it.” I fill the silence with my anxiety. “It’s the first non-tat drawing I’ve finished since…you know. I’m a little bit rusty.”
He looks up, jaw tight, eyes burning bright with repressed emotion. The drawing shakes slightly in his hand. “It’s…” His voice cracks, breaks. “Perfect.”
My tension eases and I smile. “I’m going to finish the painting of your bike next.”
“Knew it was my bike.” His corded throat tightens as he carefully rolls up the drawing. “You wanna come?”
“Where?”
“Surveillance. Tonight. You said we never go out.”
I glance up just as Slim walks in the door. He frowns at the clients on the couch with Duncan, Rose’s empty desk, and me clearly having a personal conversation. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”
Duncan shoots me a glance, takes in the moment, and then waves Slim over to help answer one of the clients’ questions.
“Surveillance isn’t a date. I just thought…maybe we could do something that didn’t involve sex or me having a panic attack or you beating the crap out of someone.”
“I’ll bring potato chips.”
My betraying mouth waters. “Chips?”
“You said they were your vice. We’ll chill in my vehicle. You’ll have your vice. I’ll have mine.”
Despite my best efforts, a smile tugs at my lips. “I didn’t think you were paying attention.”
Ray’s eyes soften, and he cups my jaw and strokes his thumb over my cheek. “I pay attention to everything about you. I want to know what to do to make you happy. I wanna be there for you when you’re sad. I want to make this world beautiful for you again. I want you to know when you walk out the door that nothing will harm you.”
“You can’t protect me from everything, Ray.
He leans down and kisses me lightly, sending an electric current through my body that makes my toes curl. “I can try.”
Chapter 18
You’re gonna burn up my Jeep
Later that evening, Ray and I are parked in a dimly lit side street in the Tenderloin, one of the seediest areas of San Francisco. Ray’s target is somewhere to the left, which is all I can gather from the direction of his binoculars and the occasional click of his long-range camera lens.
My stomach growls softly, and I glare at the empty chip bag. Two last-minute walk-ins meant I didn’t have a chance to grab dinner before Ray showed up, and although delicious, the chips aren’t quite enough to sustain me.
From my vantage point in Ray’s Jeep, I can see through the brightly lit windows of the apartments surrounding us. I’ve never sat and stared at an apartment building for any length of time before, and I am amazed at how few people think to close their curtains when they engage in illegal activities like freebasing in their kitchens, selling drugs in their living rooms, and counting huge piles of cash.
But really, it’s the nudies who capture my attention. Even though I live alone, I don’t make a habit of standing nude in front of my window with the light streaming out behind me, like the couple going at it like there’s no tomorrow. I make a mental note to strip off and stare out into the night as soon as I get home to see what I’ve been missing.
“This must be a PI’s dream.” I point at the couple. “I mean…who does that? Don’t they know everyone can see them?”
Ray looks up from the redbrick building on the left he has been watching since we arrived. “Might just be their kink, or they’re just so hot for each other they don’t care. People often forget they can be seen even if they are a few stories up.”
“Their kink?” I shift in my seat as the man, tall and dark with a hard, ripped body, pushes the woman against the window. Hmmm. Not very flattering. Would my ass look like that squashed from behind? From the movement of his arms, I imagine he is squeezing her breasts and my skin prickles. Although I never thought of myself as a voyeur, something about the couple going at it in full view is making me hot. Or maybe it’s Ray, so cool and calm beside me, his jeans a feast of tight seams in all the right places.
The side door to the brick building opens, and he lifts his camera and snaps a picture when a man walks out, but I’m guessing it’s not the object of his interest because he immediately deletes the pictures and drops the camera to his lap.
My stomach tightens, and I squirm in my seat. A naughty part of me hopes it’s not over too soon. Maybe I have a kink I never knew I had. Or maybe I did. Watching us in the mirror at the gym made me feel almost the same way. Slick, desperately aroused, and unable to sit still. Is this normal? Seems to me Peeping Toms are arrested and disparaged by society, so maybe not.
I turn my attention back to the couple in the window. The woman places her hands on the man’s shoulders and slides them around his neck. But he is having none of that. In a heartbeat, he rips her hands away and pins them to the glass above her head with one hand.
I draw in a ragged breath and clench my fists so hard my nails dig into my palm. Oh God. That is what I want, what I dream about, what Ray offered me and I couldn’t handle. I shouldn’t want to be dominated after what happened to me. I need passive and gentle, not hard and rough. I need to be understood, not controlled. I’m so damn messed up it isn’t funny. Not normal in any sense of the word.
“Um…are you done?”
“Nope.” Seemingly oblivious to my unchecked arousal, Ray continues to watch the redbrick building and I watch my show. Now the man is sliding his free hand down the woman’s body, cupping the curve of her sex. His touch is not gentle as he pushes her hips against the glass, forcing her up on her toes.
Moisture pools between my thighs and my back arches in the seat. My nipples are tight and hard, clearly visible through my T-shirt, if Ray was so inclined to look, and the urge to slide my hand down between my thighs and relieve the throbbing in my clit is almost overwhelming. I grab the seat belt and snap it in place, giving Ray a wan smile when he frowns.
“Good to be safe at all times.”
From this distance, I can’t see what the man is doing with his hand, but from the way she stiffens against the glass, I imagine his fingers are inside her the way Ray’s fingers were inside me, thrusting and spreading, pressing and curling, pumping into her until her body is coiled tight with need. He bends down and takes her nipple in his mouth and she squirms and writhes against the glass
. In my mind I do the same. But it is Ray’s mouth on my nipples, sucking and biting, Ray’s breath in my ear.
Crossing my legs to get some necessary friction where it needs to be, I focus on taking slow, deep breaths and slowly rock my hips as the man pulls away. The woman slumps against the glass and then he grabs her hair and forces her to her knees.
I draw in a sharp breath and everything below my waist turns liquid. Don’t watch. Don’t watch. I shoot a frantic glance over at Ray, now photographing a man in the alley, as I claw my thigh trying to relieve the pressure. “Are you…done? Do you have enough pictures?”
Ray shakes his head. “Shouldn’t be long.”
“Sure.” My voice rises to a squeak. My fevered skin burns, and sweat trickles between my breasts. Normal. Normal. Normal. I repeat the word over and over, a mantra to keep me on the right path.
Ray’s gaze slides to mine, and I thank the city for not installing bright lights in the alley because my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “You okay?”
“Yup. Good. Just…enjoying the view.”
Ray returns to taking pictures of the guy in the alley, who is now talking on his phone. I glance up once again at the couple and…oh my God. He’s holding her head still and fucking her mouth, his hips rocking back and forth as he thrusts. Although her hand is wrapped around his shaft, he is the one in control. My chest tightens and my breath comes in short pants as I remember Ray’s hand in my hair, his cock in my mouth…
“I think I’ll get some air.” I reach for the door handle, and Ray clamps a hand around my wrist.
“Not if you’re wet.”
My heart skitters to a stop. “Pardon?”
“Open for me, beautiful girl.”
A violent shudder wracks my body. This. These words. His authoritative tone. This is what turns me on like nothing else. And it shouldn’t. I should be running as far and fast as possible. “Ray…”
“Now.” His tone invites no disobedience and God help me I want to play this game. Swallowing hard, I part my legs, sending my skirt riding up my thighs.
“Good girl.” His approval sends a torrent of need pounding through my body until it centers in my clit. How does he know the exact words to say to get me off? It’s like he’s inside my head, delving into my most secret fantasies, my deepest desires.
Gently, he traces his finger slowly up my inner thigh, his hooded gaze never leaving my face. His hand brushes over my panties, a feather light touch that drives me crazy. Desperate to rock my hips, I reach for the seat belt, but Ray stays my hand.
“I like you restrained.”
“I can’t… I mean, I don’t.” I release the seat belt, which only serves to make the situation worse because now my hips can move, and move they do, seeking out the pleasures only Ray’s fingers in my panties can give.
As if he can read my mind, Ray traces along the lace edge, then shoves the wet fabric aside and glides his finger along my wet folds.
“Christ, you’re wet. And hot. You’re gonna burn up my Jeep.”
I writhe, hungry for his touch. A stroke, a thrust, a pinch—anything to give me release. Finally, a whimper escapes my lips.
“You like to watch.” He glides his finger through my folds again, this time, spreading my moisture up and around my clit.
“Ray…” My voice is a pained whisper. “I need to come.”
“I know. But not yet. Maybe you should watch some more.” He thrusts one thick finger inside me and I drop my head back on the seat and moan.
With a low chuckle, he changes the angle of his hand, pressing two fingers into my sex. Desperate for release, I press his hand hard against me and shamelessly grind against the heel of his palm.
“Watch,” he commands. I obey. And for a moment I feel free.
My eyes flutter open, and I stare at the balcony. The man is holding the woman face-first against a table with her hands pinned to her lower back. Every light in their apartment is on, and their curtains are fully open. How can they not know people can see them? Or maybe it is as Ray says, and they do.
He spanks her with his free hand, his arm rising and falling in a steady rhythm. A low groan tears out of my throat, and I rock my hips violently against the fingers curled inside me, struggling to keep my grip on reality under the raging tide of arousal and the desperate, almost painful need to come.
But wicked Ray is in a teasing mood. He thrusts his fingers deep, spreading them inside me, then withdraws, leaving me aching and bereft, over and over again, bringing me up and taking me down until my body is trembling and I am writhing against his hand, my sweat-soaked clothing sliding over the cool leather seat. “Please…Ray…it hurts.”
With a low growl, he leans across the seat and covers my mouth, his tongue brushing over the seam of my lips, forcing them open. And I open. I give him everything, tangling his tongue with mine, threading my hands through the silky strands of his hair.
“So fucking sexy.” He curls his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to him, his breath hot on my cheek. “I want you like that. Naked, wet, restrained for my pleasure, begging me to make you come. I want your ass pink from my hand. I want to claim every part of your sweet body until you know nothing but me and the pleasure only I can give you.”
He pounds his fingers inside me and circles his thumb around my clit until my tension builds and peaks.
“Scream for me, beautiful girl.” He slants his mouth over my lips as he presses his thumb hard over my clit. And I come, hot and wet over his fingers, a burst of pleasure so intense the world sheets white as Ray swallows my scream.
Exhausted, my body still quivering, I slump back in the seat as he withdraws his fingers. “What made you wetter?” Ray’s voice drops to a husky rasp. “Watching them fuck or the way he controls her?”
“I don’t know. I watched a couple of porns on TV with Jess, but they just made me laugh. Other than that, I’ve never watched anyone. Never imagined it would turn me on. Maybe it’s a bit of both, but mostly I think it’s the control. But it’s that side of me that got me into trouble in the first place. Luke—” I suck in a sharp breath at my slip and pray he didn’t catch the name. “The guy who assaulted me was rich, handsome, charming, a daredevil, and utterly thrilling. Almost irresistible to an eighteen-year-old introverted artist with an overprotective family. That’s the night I learned I couldn’t trust myself. I learned I couldn’t trust these feelings I had around men who took my breath away because I couldn’t handle men I couldn’t control.”
“You control me pretty well.” Ray glances up at the redbrick building. The alley is empty, and I hope he didn’t miss out on something important because of me.
“Seriously? You’re the Predator. Not even Torment can control you.”
“One drawing and you almost had me on my knees.” Ray threads his fingers through mine and holds my hand to his lips. “You got a kinky side. Nothing wrong with that, especially when our kinks fit together. You got a need to give up control and I got a need to take it. I can feed your soul and you can feed mine. But you will always be safe with me.” He kisses each of my fingers and warmth flows through my body, spreading out to my fingers and toes.
“You don’t understand.” I swallow hard. “Even if that’s my kink, I’m not normal. Normal people have normal sex in a normal way. They don’t worry if they’re going to have a panic attack afterward or if something might trigger a bad memory and send them spiraling off into a black hole, or that something bad will happen if they give in to their secret desires.”
Ray turns on the ignition and puts the Jeep in gear. “I’m gonna show you that you’re wrong about normal. And that you can enjoy your kink and be who you want to be without worrying about anything else. You went through a nightmare I wouldn’t wish on anyone, and now I understand your panic attacks, and we can work through them. But I know you’ve got needs and you’re afraid to embrace them. That’s ’cause that bastard took something from you. And I’m going to give it back.” He puts the
Jeep in reverse and glances in the rearview mirror. “Christ.”
“What’s wrong?”
Ray’s demeanor changes in a heartbeat. His body stiffens and his face smooths into an expressionless mask. Cool and calm, he reaches down and unholsters the gun strapped to his leg.
My eyes widen in alarm. “What’s going on?”
“Stay in the Jeep. Lock the doors. I’m leaving the keys. If I don’t come back or something happens to me, you get out of here as fast as you can.” Even his voice sounds different. His tone clipped, professional, and so cold I shiver.
My skin prickles as he steps out of the Jeep. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I said I’d keep you safe. And I will.”
Chapter 19
Don’t want to let you go
Famous last words.
Turning in my seat, I watch Ray through the back window of the Jeep as he stalks over to a black sedan parked two cars behind us. The driver must see Ray too, because the vehicle’s lights go on and I can hear the faint grind of an engine starting. Ray’s steps become longer and then he runs at the car, launching himself at the vehicle before the driver has time to pull away. He yanks open the door and drags the driver out, then pummels him to the ground. From this distance, I can’t see the driver’s face, but I catch a flash of blond hair and blue jeans and white streaks on a black T-shirt that remind me of the Viva la Vida shirt I got when Coldplay played San Francisco’s Warfield Theatre.
Nausea roils in my belly. Who is the man in the car, and why was he following us? Should I get out and stop the fight? But this is no street brawl. Ray is fighting with one purpose in mind, and that seems to be to kill. Every strike is vicious and precisely directed to where it could do the most damage.
Anger doesn’t even begin to describe what I see in his face.
However, the man from the car is holding his own. He manages to roll away and push himself to his feet. Ray charges and slams him against the vehicle, his hand around the man’s throat. His shout echoes in the quiet street. I catch a few words: “nothing to do with this,” “stay the fuck away,” and “I’m done with this shit.” He raises his fist and the man puts up his hands in a warding-off gesture and begs for his life. My heart squeezes in my chest, and I silently beg Ray not to make that final strike. He doesn’t. Instead, he smashes his fist on the hood beside the man, so hard I’m sure he’ll leave a dent.
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