Intimate Danger (Empire Blue)

by D. C. Stone

  She shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”

  He smiled slowly. It changed him from this dark agent, one who held secrets she yearned to uncover, and turned him into a sexy man who made promises—and kept them. If she thought him beautiful before, she hadn’t seen anything yet. The transformation of his face made him blinding.

  “Okay,” he answered.

  The sun breeched the horizon as Charlie stepped inside her house. In the brief drive home, the subtle rocking of the car had lulled her with its rhythm. She felt laden, worn down and exhausted. She could barely lift her arms and doubted she had enough energy to keep her eyes open for more than twenty minutes. Her stomach grumbled a complaint, reminding her of the reason for the trip home.

  Trent stepped in behind her and shut the door. Having him in her house seemed almost surreal. He meandered around the open room, no doubt taking every detail in. She pulled her cuffs from her belt and set the metal rings and keys on the hallway table. “Come on, I’ve got some eggs and bacon calling our name.”

  Not waiting for him to respond, she stepped around the corner into the kitchen. On autopilot, she went through motions, pulled out eggs and bacon, split the shells over a pan, and flipped the strips of meat. Meanwhile her mind wandered back to the scene they’d left, back to the fear and bleakness in Katrina’s eyes. Those eyes turned into the countless other victims she’d been responding to for the past month, each turning accusingly toward her like they all knew she couldn’t do her job, didn’t have a clue where to start. She didn’t realize she had frozen, asleep on her feet, full of grief, until gentle hands pulled the spatula out of her hands and pushed the pan back on the stove.

  Her vision grew blurry and a deep curse filled the air. Arms like steel wrapped around her, and a hand tucked her head beneath his chin. Tremors wracked her body, as if cold had invaded. The emotions of the case had been building and now released with an embarrassing lack of control. Pressure surged up her throat, and she tried to keep quiet, but failed. A strangled sound broke free, her chest cracking in two.

  Growing up in this village, watching families expand and dig their roots, the realization that someone targeted her community was too much. People moved to Nyack to embrace the rural, close-knit family life you did not get in the city. Parents chose this place so they didn’t have to hover over their children like helicopter safety patrols. The invasion of privacy, the cruel, torturing deeds conducted on the individuals of her hometown broke through what she thought a faultless shield.

  Sometime later, Trent’s soft words of reassurance fill her ears, his voice purring, as his hands rubbed the length of her back. Here she was standing in her kitchen, wrapped in the arms of a guy she hardly knew and sobbing on his shoulder, for crying out loud! Guilt and embarrassment swamped Charlie and her cheeks heated with shame. She was supposed to be a detective, should understand how to keep her emotions at bay. Instead, she was comforted by an agent who must think she was some willy-nilly female, unable to hold on to control.

  Stepping back, she wiped her cheeks with furious sweeps of hands, and darted out of his reach.

  She searched for words, was unable to find the right ones and murmured, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  She reached for the kitchen towel and brought it to her face.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  The understanding in his voice almost broke her limit again. “I shouldn’t be crying over this. It’s unprofessional, stupid, and childish. I know better. I’m not the victim here,” she said, and jumped right over that lie, because technically she sorta was. “I’m supposed to be stronger than this. How in the hell is the community supposed to rely on me when I can hardly keep my emotions in check?”

  Strong hands wrapped around her shoulders and turned her to face him. His broad chest filled her vision before he tilted her face to meet blue eyes. “You’re human. There’s nothing wrong with showing emotion. It happens to us all. There is nothing wrong with letting the pain crack through. This is a lot riding on your shoulders. And blaming yourself will get you nowhere.”

  She studied him, tried to ascertain the truth in his words. Was he mocking her or was he genuinely accepting her lack of control? His expression transformed, a dark storm clouding his face almost as if a hurricane passed through. It was such a change in his features that her breath caught. He focused on her lips. Her mouth answered in response, going dry under his perusal.

  He felt solid against her, his heart pumping strong. Their beats thudded together, matched and set a frightening pace.

  He shifted and tightened his arms around her. So close, his scent filled her lungs.

  She sucked in a breath at the ease her body molded against his. “Agent Rossi…”

  He bent until she arched in his hold. “Stop.” His head moved, closing the distance.

  “Stop what?” She sounded husky, as if she’d run a marathon.

  His touch moved up the length of her back as he repositioned them, walked her backwards. They stopped when her hips met the counter. His thumb traced her lower lip, and the intensity in his eyes was one she had never seen before. “I’ve told you more than once to call me Trent. I don’t know how to make myself any clearer. Perhaps talking isn’t doing the job.”

  Confusion hit a moment before realization. She sucked in a breath when his lips fluttered over hers. Tingles of sensation touched her mouth, sending sparks of pleasure dancing across her skin. His tongue traced along the seam of her lips and she gasped as the feeling shot between her legs in a pulse.

  He took control of the moment and plunged his tongue inside her mouth. He explored deeply, and she was unable to deny his invasion. Lips in sync glided over one another. Tongues entwined. The movement of their mouths met with unrestrained synchronous behavior, a dancing couple gliding across the floor, a platoon marching to war, the football team coordinating the winning play. It felt right.

  She met his tongue and matched the kiss, captured his guttural moan. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed the length of her body to his.

  Every fine-honed inch of him was magnificent against her, thrilled her senses, and built heat from deep in her stomach. She struggled for breath as his hands wrapped around to cup her ass and yank her to his hips. She gasped against his mouth, the move so sudden and so damn hot that it caught her off guard. And turned her on all the more.

  A thump sounded down the hall. Trent broke his mouth from hers. An unnatural stillness held him frozen, head cocked. She stood dazed, staring at his swollen lips, like a ghost begging him to return.

  He left her arms and moved as if in slow motion, drawing a weapon from the small of his back before heading out of the room. She followed behind and frowned at another thud. Her eyes shifted to the clock, and she blinked the numbers into focus. Everything seemed to be moving unhurried, like lazy clouds drifting by on a summer day. Between being exhausted, hungry, and now horny, she struggled to keep up with what was happening.

  A glower settled, her brows drawing tight, and she focused on Trent. The pieces of the puzzle began to fit and sanity returned. She opened her mouth to call out just as he kicked open the door to the guest room. Oh, shit!

  “Freeze!”

  A loud curse filled the air, followed by a woman’s shriek. Charlie raced down the hall. As she rounded the corner to the room, Dwayne was reaching for a pair of boxers, glaring at Trent, standing naked as the day he was born. She couldn’t help it, even as her brows lifted sky-high when Dwayne turned his glare her way, she chuckled under her breath. Trent holstered his weapon and averted his gaze. It landed on her. He lifted a brow.

  Do not blush. Don’t fucking blush.

  Her lips quirked. She surveyed the room and arched an eyebrow at the frightened woman cowering behind a cover on the bed. Her gaze shifted to Dwayne and the brow lifted higher.

  “What?” Dwayne snapped.

  “What do you mean, what? Shouldn’t you be working?” she snapped right back. Obviou
sly his funk from last night was still around, but more obviously, he was trying to “work it” out of his system.

  Dwayne’s dark skin seemed to grow a shade of red. “I called out sick. Wasn’t feeling very well last night.”

  Her eyes shifted pointedly to the bed. “Really?”

  “Don’t give me that look. I’m Puerto Rican. I can’t keep my pants on. And before you go judging me, next time knock on the fucking door.”

  Charlie laughed, bending over in a fit. It was all too much, her emotions an absolute mess, but the laugh lightened the load on her shoulders. This was exactly what she needed, a shock to her senses and her life from a world that was too damn serious lately. She stood and turned, smiled at the woman.

  “Hi,” she started and held out her hand. Surely, she would have to shake the hand of a half-naked woman in her home, right? It was only good manners. “I’m Charlie, Dwayne’s partner and roommate. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  Dwayne groaned and behind her, Trent laughed. She grinned.

  The woman nodded and glanced quickly at Dwayne, then back to Charlie. “Hi. I’m Rebecca. It’s um, nice to meet you. I didn’t know Dwayne had a roommate.”

  Charlie chuckled. “Well normally, he doesn’t. But that’s a story I’ll let him tell.” She turned back to the topic of the evening. “D, I guess I’ll leave you to do…whatever you were doing.”

  Dwayne made a strangled noise and she laughed and walked from the room, waving over her shoulder at Rebecca. Dwayne’s rambling continued behind her, small interjections trying to cut Trent’s words every few seconds. Once he got started, he would keep going for a while. Perhaps now would be a good time to answer the rumbling in her stomach with food.

  Back at the stove, she turned the burner back on and waited for the pan to heat up. Steps sounded behind her and Trent walked into the room, then leaned against the entranceway. His dark hair stuck up in places it hadn’t moments before they kissed and her stomach flipped, remembering just how well it had felt to push her hands into his thick hair.

  She turned back to cooking, and tried like hell to hide how this man made her feel. Because he did, without a doubt, make her feel. It had been so long since a man had done this to her, that the earlier ride her stomach went on returned with a vengeance. He stepped up next to her.

  “Do you need any help?”

  Her hands trembled at how close he was and she fought to keep herself in place. “Maybe you can make toast?”

  He leaned away and said, “Bread. Seems easy enough. You sure you trust me not to burn it or anything? Because that’s me, you know. I burn water.”

  She chuckled and glanced up, and her stomach flipped again as she caught his gaze. “You do not.”

  He smiled and plopped two pieces of bread in the toaster, nodding solemnly. “I do, it’s a curse.”

  She grinned at him unable to hold back at his teasing. “Seriously?”

  He nodded gravely. “As a heart attack. My mother gave up on me before I was even in middle school. There’s no help for me, Charlie. Trust me.”

  She chuckled again, and pushed the eggs around, trying to think back on a younger Trent standing next to his mother, cooking, and failing at it. The picture was so out of the norm of a man she knew to carry himself like perfection that she couldn’t seem to get the vision. The entirety couldn’t form in her head.

  Voices cut through their interlude as a now dressed Dwayne stepped into the room and grabbed his keys off the counter. Charlie reached for two plates and caught his gaze.

  “I’m going to take Rebecca home. You tight?” Dwayne asked.

  She knew why he was asking, understood the protectiveness in her best friend, and heard Trent snort softly. Both she and Dwayne ignored it. She nodded. “I’m good. Is she okay? I feel awful,” she lied with a smile.

  Dwayne saw right through it and narrowed his eyes. “Uh huh, sure you do. She’s mortified. Is worried you’re going to think she’s easy.”

  Charlie laughed, surprised. “Why should I care? I don’t even know her.”

  Dwayne smirked. “Not yet, anyhow. She’s the new hire upstairs.”

  “Upstairs?” she asked and her mouth dropped open as it dawned on her. “In Records? Oh hell, D, way to keep it professional. The chief is going to flip!”

  Trent laughed and Dwayne winced as the front door slammed. Rebecca had obviously left, maybe even overheard their conversation. Charlie would have to make a point of reaching out to her in order to show that things were fine. She growled beneath her breath at her best friend. Dwayne moved to chase after her. “Yeah, professional, is that what you call it?” He glanced between her and Trent, then left the room.

  Charlie’s face heated like she’d been smacked. He wasn’t chastising her, that much she was aware of, but maybe he was a bit embarrassed. This was all new for every one of them, the roommate, the scene they’d interrupted, the privacy issues. She transferred the eggs to plates she’d pulled out and passed them over to Trent who added bread. It was five-thirty in the morning and she had to be back in the office in less than two hours, so she started a pot of coffee, too.

  Trent cleared his throat behind her. “This is really good.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and watched as he took another bite, then smiled. “Thanks, but they’re just eggs.”

  “Still,” he said, “they’re good.”

  Silence reigned and it wasn’t comfortable. In fact, now that she thought about it, she was very aware of him and where they had been heading earlier, before they were interrupted.

  Could she sleep with him and still be able to be an active participant in this investigation without letting their relationship get in the way? She knew he was only in town for this case and try as she might, she’d never been able to just have sex for the sake of sex. Feelings got involved and the physical act became very personal.

  She didn’t want personal. She wanted hot, sweaty sex with no strings attached. Her battered heart was still trying to recover from the loss of Tony and despite the years that had passed, she didn’t think she’d ever be ready to let another cop back in. So yeah, she’d established she was immensely attracted to Trent Rossi, but could she keep things physical with him and push her emotions out of the way?

  She turned toward the man in question and he lifted his head, chewing. Trent paused, his gaze sharpening on her face and she briefly wondered if what she was thinking was written there. Heat blazed in his eyes, the blue bright as a brisk fall sky. He glanced down to his plate and back up at her, then slid out of his seat.

  Crossing the room, his eyes stayed on hers. She couldn’t move, felt trapped in whatever spell he’d cast. Her stomach coiled with anticipation. Would he kiss her again? Was this her chance to see if she could take it one-step further? She took a step back and he followed. He reached her and she swallowed hard. So close, she breathed in his scent of pine with every breath.

  He leaned down, set his hands on the counter behind her and boxed her in.

  “I need to go, Charlie.”

  His check brushed hers and she blinked, confused by his words. “Go?” No, maybe you should stay.

  “Yeah, I need to shower and change, too.”

  The pull between them was strong, how could he not feel it? She leaned toward him, not realizing it until their chests brushed. He sucked in a sharp breath. “You can shower here if you want.” Um…what? What was she saying?

  He groaned and his lips brushed her cheek. She turned her face slightly toward his mouth, but he stopped her. “No, I can’t. I’ll see you at the station in a few hours, though.”

  His warmth disappeared. Charlie blinked and he was gone.

  What in the hell had just happened?

  Chapter Eight

  Charlie drummed her fingers on the desk, her chest burning with building irritation as she watched Trent. She was disgusted with herself for several reasons, one being her body’s extreme reaction to him. He stood in front of the room debriefing their bosses o
n the different cases, and how they were all linked, through his profile of the perp. But instead of paying attention to anything he was saying, all she could do was stare at his ass. His perfect bubbled, could-practically-bounce-a-coin-off-it ass.

  Ugh.

  To keep from banging her head on the desk in an attempt to get those damn thoughts out of her mind, Charlie tapped a foot in rapid staccato against the linoleum floor. Memories of this morning flooded in, and she licked her lips in remembrance, swearing his taste was still there. The kiss had been unlike any other she had experienced and one that got all of the right body parts answering. The man definitely knew how to kiss. Seeing as his mouth had only been on her mouth, she couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel on other parts of her body.

  Shiver.

  His body had been hard under her hands, full of what she sensed was a leashed restraint. Even now, with him standing in front of the room wearing a light blue button-down shirt, charcoal pants highlighting the distinct curve of his rear, he emitted a silent kind of tension barely contained. He looked like the poster child for the FBI and very much like her living fantasy.

  “Charlie?”

  She bit her lip and imagined stripping not only his clothes away but also uncovering the man beneath the flirting facade. His waist was narrow and flat beneath that shirt. His badge sat on a black belt, his gun sat right beside it. Would he take her with it still on?

  Quiver.

  “Detective Lopez!” A heavy hand slapped the conference table and she jumped, her gaze snapping over to Chief Woolsey.

  “What?” she snapped, not entirely happy with being interrupted from that very fine of a fantasy.

  “You want to work at some point today, or do I need to cut out your daily dose of caffeine?”

  She frowned, confused. “What?”

  The chief gave a pointed look at her hand and leg, which was giving a Samba song a run for its money. She forced her body still and turned toward Trent as he cleared his throat, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

  Ugh squared.