by Jodi Linton
Oh, God. Oh, God. She knew better than to fold when it came to his simple touches. Lord have mercy on her soul. Sometimes doing the right thing hurt worse than keeping up the bad-girl facade.
She turned her cheek, still whispering. “But you’re a motherfucking cop.”
Cade glided a hand around her neck and gently squeezed. “Does that have to change the outcome of us?”
She shrugged. “So now there’s an us? Damn. You could’ve fooled me. Because, Cade, I fucking can’t stand you. I can’t stand the way you make me feel so wrong but so right. I can’t stand the way you make me hurt. I can’t stand that you’re a fucking cop.”
“That never stopped you before.”
“You might want to check your sources, because they suck balls.”
He grated against her lips. “Mine are pretty accurate, since this particular man in blue happened to be my old partner.”
With her back against the wall and nowhere to turn, Em fired back. “So you’re the shitty cop Wes called for backup that night. I’m guessing it was a girl keeping you busy.”
He dropped his hand, and his head fell on her shoulder in affirmation. “Fuck, princess,” he said, his voice sounding like gravel. “You don’t think I want to kick myself every goddamn day for not coming to his aid?”
She fitted a hand underneath his jaw, practically getting drunk on the feel of his stubble tickling her skin. “We both failed him, Cade. Maybe that’s why we got along so well.”
“Fuck, Em. I don’t want to hurt you any more, but I need to know. Did you love him?”
She sucked in a breath and felt all the strength drain from her body. “Yes. Just that morning…the morning it happened…he had asked me to marry him. We were going to have a future…”
Cade’s face darkened, and he clenched his fists. “I didn’t know. Believe me, Em, I wouldn’t have been such a dick if I had known. The chief sent me in to find out what you knew about Wes’s death, but from the moment you hopped on the back of my bike and wrapped your arms around me, I knew you weren’t the devil he had painted you for.”
“Why do you make it so damn hard for me to be pissed at you? What kind of woman hops in bed with a guy ten months after her fiancé has been murdered?”
His fingers flew up to her cheek, the touch soft and soothing. “It kills me that you’re hurting. If I could take the pain away I would.” He pressed his lips to her tears. “I promise you that.”
“But you lied to me. Liars are frowned upon in the club.”
He shifted against her body. “You deserved better than my lies. Please understand I wish things had been different.”
His arms shot out as if to say, This is me. Take it or leave it, and her heart beat so loudly in response to his plea she couldn’t help but accept.
“You are everything I’ve ever wanted. All I’ve ever needed or thought I desired.” His face tightened in pain. “Never doubt that.”
Her hand pressed firmly against his cheek. “Why didn’t you say something the other night in the garage? I would have kept your secret.” She inhaled a deep clarifying breath. “I’d do anything for you. Still will, because I’ve fallen hard for this sexy biker mechanic I hired. I’ve fallen for you.”
“Like you said, I’m a shit bag.”
She shook her head. “You’re a far cry from that, trust me.”
Lips lightly touched her forehead. “I wanted to say something, believe me, I did. But I had a job to do; I owed it to Wes to find his killer. Or maybe I really am just another bastard,” he murmured in her ear. “I should’ve told you I was a cop. I know that now. You deserve the truth. Always.”
A flash of regret bled through her. There, beneath a metal awning barricaded between muscle and brick, she discovered Cade also carried around regret. Could she trust another cop? Place faith in a man she’d only just met? He might burn her. Probably he already had.
She threaded her fingers through his hair and tilted his head back to gain a better view of the man taking hold of her heart. The corners of his lips turned up from the casual brush of her fingertip. He drove her crazy. Crazy to prove she was better than some biker thug’s daughter. Cade Jackson might actually turn out to be her saving grace. Her body moved closer, as if it needed to feel them as one being. Placing her mouth near his ear, she whispered, “You want my trust, cop? Stop ratting me out to your superiors.” She moved her hand around the back of his neck. Mouth wavering in front of his, she made up her mind to allow him in. “You want my kisses, nomad? Give me a reason to not regret falling for you.”
His hand gripped her shoulder. “I haven’t given my boss a damn thing. You hear me? But I need you to tell me what’s happening between the Sinners and the Vipers so I can help you.”
The protective side of Cade had the ability to make her want to lose control. It made her want to collapse in his strong arms and scream, “Fuck me,” but she didn’t. Instead, she just blinked in response. “Logan’s been feeding the Vipers false information about how my club wants to get back into the drug-dealing business.”
He gritted his teeth. “Why would you do something like that?”
She stared at him. “Because Cyrus knows who killed Wes, and I want to make him squeal. The man has a soft spot for money. It was the easiest way to get him to strike up a private meeting.”
Cade slid his hand down her arm and tangled their fingers together. “Well, you can count on one more biker at your side, princess.”
In that moment, she swore her heart exploded into a fireworks show. Cade cared about her, and not just about her. He cared about Wes. In the end, that was the least they both could do for the slain cop.
Smiling, she fell into his side. “Take me riding, nomad. Take me on an adventure.” She twined her fingers into his. “No obstacles. You and me, and the open road.”
“Like I could deny such a request,” he said, tightening his hold on her as he dragged them both out of the alley toward his parked Harley.
Chapter Thirteen
Playing with fire is worth the risk.
They arrived a little before noon and parked Cade’s Harley in a food-truck lot. While Em focused on the stunningly handsome cop standing in front of a trailer, last night’s ride played on repeat inside her head.
With her hair tied back in a knot, the windblown curls swirling about her face, relaxation overwhelmed her body for the first time in months. She reveled in the memory of their talks on the open road, the way it felt to have her hands wrapped around his waist while her body pressed up against his warm, hard back, and their spontaneous highway motel rental where he took her up against the wall and fucked her. Fucked her like no other man had, or ever would.
She traded heated looks with the guy occupying every cell in her body. A small line had formed outside the taco hut, where he waited to place their order. He had his muscular tattooed arm hitched on a belt loop, and his dusty-brown hair looked like a woman had held on tight while he fucked her good and hard. When one of the giggling girls behind him tapped his shoulder and he turned to smile, Em felt her heart swell with pride, knowing she’d been the one to give his face such a sexy glow.
The first time a man had made promises to care for her and set them up with a better life, she’d believed the fairy tale like some pathetic, silly, little girl in love. Now her head was more firmly planted on her shoulders. She didn’t put much faith in people unless they were named Em Connors, and as much as she wanted—maybe needed—Cade in her life, she wasn’t ready to lay all her cards at the sexy detective’s feet. After all, she was a criminal, and he was a cop. She had learned the hard way that being on opposite sides of the law didn’t mix well. This time she needed more than promises.
The sound of boots loudly clomping startled her, and when she moved, her hand hit a saltshaker, toppling it over on the picnic table. She jumped and looked back into a pair of smiling brown eyes. Cade stood holding a greasy brown paper bag and two beers. He set the food down on the table before sliding in next
to her and offering up a beer.
“Good thing I got napkins to go along with our beers.” He swept the spilled salt onto the ground with a napkin. “Hope you like street tacos.”
She eyed the beer. “Do they come with limes?”
“You better believe it, beautiful.”
In that moment, seated next to Cade—cop, biker, lover—Em finally felt whole. Comforted. She reached for the bag of food at the exact same time as him, their knuckles brushing in a casual touch. Yet there was nothing casual about the spark his touch had ignited within her. Public place or not, all she could think about was getting him completely naked and all to herself. Now that they’d cleared the air…this—their relationship—finally felt real.
“Who taught you how to ride, Detective?”
He laughed, the crooked line of his grin making her heart thump so hard she would’ve sworn it leaped out of her chest. “You really get a kick out of using my newfound status against me.”
Em peeled the foil back, revealing a greasy mess of a taco. “Maybe, you know, just a little bit.” She smiled. “Sue me, I’ve got a thing for dirty-mouth detectives. It’s my one bad habit, okay?”
His brown eyes sizzled, and her nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. “My uncle introduced me to riding.”
“So why become a cop?” she asked, understanding the answer might not be something she wanted to hear.
He pulled the beer to his lips and took a drink, then set the bottle back down. “When I was younger, my uncle ran a motorcycle shop in south Houston. He was a good guy, always smiling, giving me advice, and a few dollars in my pocket.” He touched her cheek. “I told you how after my father died, he stepped in to help my mother out.”
She nodded.
“Well, one day I showed up to repair a bike and found him dead in the garage.”
Her hand moved over his, and she squeezed. “God, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a robbery gone wrong,” he grumbled, dragging his hand out from underneath hers. “The cops caught the bastard, and I entered the academy a year later.”
Em knew hard loss could change a person. She’d walked out a different woman ten month ago. “I understand. It was hard to turn down that scholarship to NYU to take over my father’s club.”
Cade arched an eyebrow. “Decided the criminal life suited you better?”
She shrugged. “Decided staying alive was more important than an art history major.”
He nodded at her curiously.
“Born in the club, die in the club.” She forced a pleasant smile. “That’s my life.”
He turned, putting their faces together. “I’m part of a new project with the precinct.” He arched an eyebrow. “There’s a group of us undercover cops sent in to take down the local MC clubs that are dealing dirty. When word hit the street that one of our own had been taken out while on assignment, I was given orders to go undercover into the Dirty Sinners. My boss showed me your picture, along with some case files. He wanted me to find out what you knew about Wes’s death.” His usual upbeat smile had been replaced with a frown. “I considered you a link to help me solve Wes’s murder case, nothing more. Someone to help me find answers in the death of my partner. But then you turned into so much more.” He casually tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t just walk away and not find out if there was something between us, so I made up my mind to tell my boss to take me off the case. But then today he told me about you and Wes, and I only saw red. Everything got messy after that.”
She touched his cheek. “I should’ve told you about Wes. I should’ve told you a lot of things. Like how our kiss in the Sinners’ garage floored me.”
“All in the past, princess.” His voice deepened. “No more secrets, okay?”
She quickly snagged the beer and guzzled half of it down before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Okay. Were you and Wes close?” she asked, scoping out his face.
It seemed like an eternity crashed between them before he awarded her an answer. He blinked, the frustration apparent in his humorless gaze. “We met at the academy. Most of the new cadets considered me too much of a loose wire to be cop material, but Wes believed in me. And we were friends ever since.”
Somehow Em understood that was all he was going to give on the matter, even if she pressed for more. She lifted a hand and cupped his chin, the sound of his teeth clenching told her exactly what to do. With the tension rippling in the air, she planted her mouth on his, sampling the sweat and beer cloaking his lips. Their mutual moans were hushed by the intermingling of their tongues. His hand slid around her waist, and he tugged her closer, pulling her onto his lap. Even though they were in a public place, making out like two horny teenagers, Em could not have cared less. The idea that people were watching them, witnessing his hands roam all over her body, thrilled her beyond belief. She looked taken. Desired. Something she hadn’t known she’d been missing. Something she didn’t even discover she needed until Cade came storming into her life.
He lightly brushed their mouths together before pulling away, the weight of his hand still plastered on the small of her back. “The old couple at twelve o’clock just said a prayer for us.”
She shifted on his lap. “I know a way to get them to throw some holy water our way.”
“I bet you do, princess,” he said, running his thumb along her bottom lip.
Em relaxed against the hard wall of Cade’s chest and enjoyed the way his inked arms felt entirely right wrapped snugly around her waist. She’d only known him for a couple weeks, but he could be her home. He could make her whole again. Twisting in his arms, she tilted her head back on his shoulder and took in his perfect face—the hard, fierce lines of his square jaw, his curved upper lip, and the way his mesmerizing brown eyes cut straight through her. His expression darkened as she dragged a finger down the scar on his left cheek. He might be a cop, but the man leaving her breathless with just a glance was anything but lawful. He was dangerous, possessive, and downright dirty. Like her very own rebel heart.
“You feel amazing pressed up against me,” he grated at her ear.
She let out a soft laugh. “Keep it in your pants, Detective. We don’t need to draw any more attention as it is. So, about you coming to the meeting with the Vipers on Friday…”
His hand flew up to her mouth, silencing her midsentence. “I could bring some backup, and all you’d need to do is wear a wire and get Cyrus to confess to murdering Wes. The cops would do the rest.”
She could tell him that it was a false buy set up by the DEA, and all she would have to do was make a call to bring an arrest warrant. But could she risk everything she’d fought so hard to keep—her revenge, her memories of Wes, and her life as a Sinner—to be with Cade? Could she see them together forever? She could. That’s what made that small part inside of her—vindictiveness—so hard to accept.
She had to see the finale to her own saga. She had to watch Cyrus Benedict die.
It’d been her promise to Wes. It still was. And she couldn’t break it. For anyone.
Some padded cell upstate wouldn’t be enough for the bastard who murdered a man she cared about.
Em inhaled a fortifying breath and said, “You can’t call in reinforcements. It’ll spook Benedict and his boys. We’ve got to do this my way. And that means no heat, okay?”
Cade rubbed his hand over his mouth. “So I’m just supposed to stand back and pray to God that I don’t have to arrest you on counts of possession and larceny?”
She blinked, the panicked expression slowly taking over her entire body in numbness. “If that’s what you have to do, then do it. But I fucking mean it when I say no heat.”
His dark eyes smoldered as he reached out and firmly gripped the back of her neck. “I thought we agreed to no more secrets.”
Her throat strangled on a harsh swallow. “No secrets. But Cyrus won’t cough up the killer if cops screw things up.”
Something in the way his ha
nd slid against her spine as he pulled back to give her space, pulled at her gut and sent every nerve ending on high alert.
“Then afterward?” he murmured in her ear. “After the drug deal, after I stand back and allow a criminal drug buy to take place, where does that leave us?”
“I’m okay swapping a little PDA with a cop if you’re okay fornicating with a criminal.”
One corner of his sexy mouth tipped upward as he brushed their lips together. “It’s just that fucking easy to live the outlaw dream, huh?”
“Yep. We could go all Bonnie and Clyde on their asses.” Pushing up out of his lap, she took his hand. “Come on, take me somewhere private.”
Even if things go bad at the drug buy, we’ll at least have tonight.
He looked back at her and grinned. “Just so you know, I’m carrying a piece, if by chance you intend on offing me.”
She bent over and unzipped her leather boot, revealing a gun. “Me, too, Detective. Me, too.”
Chapter Fourteen
He wanted her. All of her.
Cade squeezed Em’s hands, pulling them closer together on his bike. Having her pressed up against his back as they sped down the open road felt heavenly. He’d tried to wrap his head around their earlier talk. The cop in him was fully aware that not alerting Houston PD to the drug deal was unlawful, but the man he’d become over the past few weeks—the biker thug falling for an outlaw MC president—only had one thing in mind: proving to his girl she could trust him. Even though he knew he could never let her near the drug buy. He would have to convince Em to let him take her place, because he’d never put her in danger, not ever.
Back at the food trailer, Cade thought he could follow along with her plan and see things like a criminal, desire justice without his cop blinders on. He understood her pain, felt it, too, on a daily basis. It seemed logical. Get rid of the bad guys. Now, as he straddled the hog with her soft arms wrapped around his midsection and a cool breeze in his face, he was tempted to suggest they ride off into the sunset together. Forget the drug buy, forget Cyrus, and leave it all behind. But what would that say about their commitment to Wes?