Armed & Desired

by D. C. Stone

  Chapter Two

  The high back, black chairs lining the bar sat on a raised platform about a foot high. Alyssa squirmed in her seat. Her too-short red dress came only inches from exposing the girly goods. She pulled at the polyester, her prayers unanswered to add cloth to the bottom. Why she let her best friend, Sandra, talk her into signing up for a 1 Night Stand seemed extreme, so out of her normal nature, so…she searched for the word she wanted to use, one different from the ones that sprang to mind, and failed.

  Safe.

  In control.

  Boring.

  Ugh. She rotated the small red straw through the too-sweet beverage in front of her. Keeping a clear head was necessary. Especially when meeting with a stranger. The heavy syrup concoction in her drink kept her from downing the liquid courage. She yearned to lose herself, forget everything for just one night. Finding the guts to get there was harder than she thought. And she wasn’t stupid. Meeting in an unfamiliar place, she needed to keep her wits intact.

  In all of her thirty-three years, she’d never done something so impulsive. Perky young women walked by, with perky little breasts that weren’t held in place by a push-up bra, with perky thighs not held in by Spanx, and perky asses she didn’t doubt a coin would easily bounce off of.

  She was in shape, hell, perhaps better than most of the young, disgustingly beautiful women prancing around. Running close to fifteen miles a week kept her that way. However, she’d been feeling every bit of her thirty-three years lately, and the month before, a lone gray hair sent home the reality that time did not stop. That notice of age reminded her of what she’d managed to accomplish in her life, and what she had yet to do. It came down to the words used to describe who she was. Safe, in-control, and boring.

  Most of her weekends involved lying on the couch watching movies, eating dinner alone, and running until she almost collapsed with exhaustion. A safe decision, like that of one who had no excitement in their life.

  So boring, she’d never taken a chance, never been set up on a blind date. And playing it so safe, she’d never experienced a one-night stand.

  She took in each of the women, and self-consciously pushed her breasts up at the sight of one of them sporting double Ds. Alyssa fluffed her hair for volume as another woman with shiny blonde tresses walked by. When an unfamiliar and sparkling blue stare behind the bar met hers, she straightened and stopped fidgeting. The bartender smirked and shook his head before retrieving an envelope under the bar and walking over.

  He prowled closer and the hair on the back of her neck rose. The black shirt highlighted his baby blues and when she’d first arrived, she had a hard time taking her gaze away from his gorgeous body. Now, she found it impossible.

  “Alyssa Bloom?”

  She swallowed and bobbed her head, speech lost. Good God, she tracked murderers, chased bank robbers, and fought with men twice her size, but for some reason, she could not mutter a verbal response. He rested his forearms on the bar before her. Biting his lip, he almost appeared to be contemplating what to say, all the while tapping a white envelope on the dark wood. Her cheeks heated, but she lifted a brow in question.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but anyone with half a brain could figure it out. Tell me you’d rather wait for me, Alyssa. Tell me to toss this in the trash and I’m yours.”

  Taken aback, she stiffened and her eyes bulged. The wire connecting her brain to her mouth had a hard time linking. “Excuse me?” She stared at the packet.

  He sighed before sliding it across the bar top. Frowning, she glanced around to see if anyone watched. Normally more cognizant of her surroundings, she hadn’t seen anybody suspicious approach the bar or catch her attention. Her name in big, bold black print lined the front. A slight weight shifted inside the envelope.

  Tearing it open, she pulled out a folded sheet of ivory paper and a plastic keycard embossed with Castillo Resorts and Hotels. She read the note and her heart raced, as if a Kentucky Derby pistol had exploded.

  Ms. Bloom,

  Enclosed is the key to your room. Enjoy your evening. I am certain you will have an unforgettable night and find your wish.

  May this be everything you need.

  Madame Eve

  Alyssa’s heart continued to speed as a horse set off in the Derby. Thunder pulsed in her ears, not from the bass pumping through the speakers, but the adrenaline coursing in her veins. Something she recognized all too well. The flash of glass under the overhead light broke through the spreading panic—can I really do this?—and drew her attention to the bartender. He held a bottle of whiskey and tipped it toward a tumbler he’d set in front of her, pouring a healthy three fingers of amber liquid. Anticipating her protest, he lifted a hand and placed the bottle behind the bar.

  “On the house. You look like you could use it.” His brilliant eyes stayed on her for a few more seconds until he moved away.

  She didn’t think twice and wrapped her palm around the cool glass before slamming the drink in three, quick swallows. It burned going down, spreading warmth when it hit her stomach. Her pulse slowed and the tension leaked from her shoulders, panic abating.

  Sliding off the chair, she grabbed the keycard. A quick check downward showed her girls still in their rightful place, bound by the new black lace, push-up bra she’d bought earlier that day. Lower, a lot of exposed leg gleamed, and nude five-inch platforms completed the outfit. Sandra assured her the shoes would be the greatest thing for her legs, and with the pop of her calf muscle, and the line of definition in her thigh, Alyssa had to give it to her friend. She’d been right.

  Blowing out one last breath, she gathered up her courage and stepped away from the bar.

  This is it.

  The chance to become something more than safe, in-control, and boring.

  Nate waited at the floor-to-ceiling window of the hotel room and stared out across downtown San Diego. Tall skyscrapers soared around the city, their tops dusted with popping colors of green, blue, and red. Cars passed by in a blur, and with dusk only minutes past and the weekend kicking off, nightlife began to bloom along with his own anticipation.

  He tucked his hands inside the charcoal dress pants and rocked back and forth in the uncomfortable black dress shoes. After spending days in his boots and uniform, the toes of the shoes pinched, and the soles were unforgiving. He did not miss them. At all.

  The door behind him clicked and a brush of air alerted him someone entered the room. He stilled, his heartbeat kicking out an erratic tempo in his throat, but he didn’t turn, instead watched a woman cross the threshold in the window’s reflection. She assessed the larger-than-normal hotel suite before her gaze settled on his back.

  Perplexed, he cocked his head, recognizing her familiar features. She progressed with a lethal grace only a trained law enforcement officer would know, her steps purposeful, but silent, even in heels higher than he’d ever seen her in.

  Standing to the side, she set her purse and a small black bag on a table, giving him her profile. A flash of deep red hair grabbed his attention. He sucked in a breath and pivoted in slow motion, refusing to allow hope to grow any more than it had, yet at the same time, fear sliced through. The one person he needed to get out of his system stood in the same room as he.

  The night was about to go to hell.

  Facing away from him, she took in the overwhelming luxury of the room. Desire slammed into him, his cock coming to life with a kick against his fly.

  Alyssa.

  His fucking partner. Christ! The woman he’d been trying to escape, the one he wanted to remove from his mind by spending the night surging between another’s thighs. Long red, curly hair tumbled like scarves of silk, soft and smooth as velvet. For the first time seeing it unbound, he wanted to push his fingers through it. Her teasing strawberry scent washed over him, and he fought to stay in place. He was drawn to her like a magnet and being here, outside of work where no rank existed, just made the pull that much stronger. She still hadn’t faced him, inst
ead mumbling softly, clenched her fists, and lowered her lashes.

  Alyssa, the strong, courageous woman who hardly showed any emotion on the job, appeared scared to death. He took a step. She stiffened.

  He studied the small red dress adorning her body. Strong, shapely, muscular legs seemed to go on forever, disappearing under the cloth-covered goods he wanted to reveal. The red garb, combined with her fiery hair had her looking like a vixen, a minx, and drop-dead gorgeous.

  He crossed the carpet soundlessly and she lifted her head. Moving behind her, he laid his hands on her shoulders, wary of her reaction.

  “You seem tense,” he whispered.

  She shifted, but he restrained her.

  “No, don’t turn yet. Are you sure you’re ready to play, Alyssa?”

  Her head snapped back. “How do you know my name?”

  Fuck. He searched for an answer. “Madame Eve.”

  She let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “How come I didn’t get your name?”

  He ignored her question and savored every touch. Her skin gleamed under the light, smoother than silk, softer than the velvet. Goose bumps broke out along her arms and he smiled. Skimming his hands down her arms, he brushed his knuckles back up their length.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Probably for the same reason you are.”

  Nate smiled and shifted closer until his hips connected with the slight curve of her ass. She stepped away without facing him.

  “I’m sorry. I-I just don’t know if I’m ready to move that fast.”

  He studied her stiff profile, his stomach rolling. She seemed hesitant, and for the second time since she walked in, he wondered why she was there. Alyssa could have any man she wanted, why had she chosen Madame Eve and 1Night Stand to help her find one?

  He reached out, keeping his hips away. Pulling her hair back, he twined her curls around his fingers. Thoughts of autumn leaves, red wine, and rubies danced in his mind.

  “Why are you here, Alyssa? An answer this time, preferably the truth.” He still whispered, attempting to mask his voice. She was a smart woman, an even better cop, so his ruse wasn’t bound to last. He swallowed hard and waited. One could only hope, pray, and beg the gods for a few more minutes until he could freely touch her, before his night went to shit.

  Wrapping her hair around his wrist, he brought it to his nose and inhaled. Strawberries, that same damn seductive scent she always wore, flooded his senses. He fought with impatience, fear, and control.

  With a quick tug, he yanked her head to his shoulder and shifted forward, laying a hand on her flat stomach. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She gasped and before she could turn, he attempted to soothe her, brushed a kiss to her temple. “Shhh, I’m not here to threaten you. Give me just a few minutes to prove it to you, Alyssa.” She trembled and his heart seized at her bravery, how much trust she placed with a complete stranger. Didn’t matter if it wasn’t the truth, she didn’t know—or didn’t appear—to know it was him.

  Dipping his head, he snaked his tongue along the side of her neck. She jerked in his arms and yelped. With a smile, he pulled her lower body against his erection again, refusing to release her squirming body.

  “Is this why you’re here?” He covered the speeding pulse at the base of her throat with his lips and, unable to resist temptation, sucked her soft skin. Her legs gave out. He caught her with one arm and continued to tease the pitter-pattering beat with his tongue.

  “Oh, God, yes.”

  Her rounded bottom pressed into his hips and he growled, twisting and moving them toward the windows. He wanted her pushed to the wall. He wanted inside her. He just wanted.

  He flattened her gently to the smooth, cold glass. Inching both of his palms up her torso, he took the heavy weight of her breasts in his hands. Her nipples pebbled and he grew impatient with the cloth separating him from her skin. He tugged the front of her dress and tore aside the bra, drawing her breasts out, groaning as they fell into his hands.

  “God.” He dropped his face into her thick hair. “Alyssa, you feel so good.”

  She lifted her arms, pushed away from the glass and bent forward, grinding into him. His cock pulsed with each pass of her hips, swelled even more, ready to explode.

  He bit his lip to hold back the orgasm, then released one breast, trailing a hand along her body until it reached the bottom of her dress. Sneaking beneath the cloth, he searched, finding her heated core. He hissed at the moisture soaking her panties. After months with almost a constant hard on, and more than a dozen nights sating his lust with his hand—for her—he would finally take what he wanted.

  With a flick of his fingers, he pushed inside. She gasped and tossed her head back, meeting his gaze in the reflection on the window, and froze, recognition lighting her features.

  Chapter Three

  Alyssa’s pulse pounded in her ears, behind her eyes, and scratched its way up her throat. The shock of recognizing Nate caused the world to cease rotating on its axis for a few seconds, before she snapped into action.

  She spun away, crossed the room, struggling to collect her thoughts and get the goods covered again. What would she say? What in the hell is he doing here? Had he known she was using the 1Night Stand service?

  “Alyssa.” His deep voice filled the air behind her, spoken as if she were a skittish horse. And what in the fuck is up with all the horse references tonight?

  She closed her lids and lifted a hand. Sure, she hadn’t known he stood behind her, and while that should alarm her, no bells clanged in her head. His touch comforted and aroused all at once. She’d never experienced anything that drove her to such heights in a short amount of time, a caress so sure and reliable in giving pleasure, using nothing but his hand.

  She focused on the view. Covering her mouth, she willed her pulse to slow down. A rock lodged in her throat, refusing to budge. A shift of air was all the warning given before his warm touch landed on her shoulders. The tingles on her skin beneath the warmth, the frustration of the broken promise of release, and the utter betrayal and humiliation in how her night turned out—the one night she had ever put herself out there—all merged together and pissed her off.

  The hope building all night broke. She spun around and slapped his face. The burst of violence happened before she could stop it, but she refused to let her surprise show. After his head jerked to the side, he considered the ceiling and pursed his lips. He inhaled, his chest expanding slowly, then met her stare.

  “I guess I deserved that.”

  “How could you?” Her voice cracked on the last word, the war with her emotions a losing battle.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t know.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts and walked around the room, glancing at him every few steps. “Know what?”

  He lifted his brows.

  “Stop it,” she snapped.

  “Stop what?”

  “Staring at me like that. I’m not some deer in hunting season!”

  Nate made a sound, something suspiciously close to a snort. “Don’t tell me I have to spell it out for you?”

  She paced across the room. “You’re not making any sense. Why are you here? What were you thinking?”

  “I want you.”

  Such a simple statement, but one with too many repercussions. She froze, shook her head. They could not do this. They were partners, she his trainer. Turning their relationship into anything romantic would be frowned upon should anyone find out, and potentially create a personal conflict. “No, you don’t. You don’t know what you’re saying. You know we can’t do this.”

  “Stop fucking moving, Alyssa. You’re exhausting to watch.”

  At his command, she ceased and circled with slow, practiced control. The charcoal pants fit as if tailor-made. A light sapphire dress shirt, worn casually with the cuffs rolled up his forearms, gaped open at his neck, giving her a glimpse of sun-kissed skin beneath. The color of the cloth made the blue of his eyes sparkle, and despite
the glare he tossed her way, he was gorgeous, and way too edible.

  He walked forward and she shrank back. He caught the movement, but didn’t stop, continuing to stalk her until she slammed into the wall behind her. His steps quickened then. Much too fast, he crowded against her.

  Hard ridges and muscles molded into her curves and though her partner was built and in shape, she’d underestimated him.

  Nate leaned in, slow enough for her to shift her head. He kept coming, and she muttered an unintelligible plea. “Please, don’t.”

  His mouth pressed to her ear, his heated breath caressed her hot skin. “Do you know how many times I’ve touched myself thinking of you?”

  Oh, God.

  His deep, rumbling voice rolled across her sensitive nipples and her thighs tensed. His lips brushed the shell of her ear before he bit, not hard enough to hurt, but caused her to gasp, had her stomach tingling. Her pussy swelled, ached to be filled.

  “Do you know how many fantasies I’ve had about you? How frustrating it is to think how tight and hot you would be wrapped around my dick, when the poor substitute is to fuck my fist?”

  Sweet Jesus.

  “Alyssa.” His lips grazed her throat, and latched onto her pulse. She jerked toward him. Grasping his biceps, she dug her nails in. He groaned and released the skin with a pop. “One night. But if you tell me to stop, I will.”

  He nibbled and licked a path up her neck, skimmed her jaw. Her resolve wavered until it was only Nate in her mind, and the raw, masculine scent of sex. His hands clutched her hips, anchoring her to the spot. He lifted his head, his eyes reminding her of a winter storm, the pupils wide and dark, brimming with lust, skimming over her face before centering focus on her mouth.