by C. A. Harms
“Tomorrow I’m taking him to the pound.” Nic stares at me, doing his very best to appear serious.
“You wouldn’t.” I place my hand against his bare chest and his eyes follow the movement. “Because if you did,” I lower my hand, loving the way he feels beneath it, “I don’t think I could ever forgive you.”
“Is that so?”
I nod just as I slip my finger beneath the hem of his boxers. “And you love him too much to get rid of him.”
Nic reaches out and hooks my waist, pulling me in closer. “I think I need some attention. Something to soothe my doubt.”
“You are such a needy man.”
When he places his other hand behind my neck and pulls my face closer to his, with his eyes locked on me, such a fierce look filling them, I feel my knees weaken. “Only for you, Emerson,” he assures me. “Only for you. I just can’t seem to get enough.”
“I’m gonna be late for work.” I push back against him just as he thrusts his hips forward.
One second I am exiting my room, entirely dressed and ready to leave my apartment to start my workday. The next thing I know I am gripping the edge of the countertop, my back to Nic, my skirt lifted and my panties around my ankles. He has this uncanny way of making me lose sections of my thoughts. Like blank spaces in my timeline where I can’t recall how I got from one place to the next. Like I damn near lost my mind.
“Me too,” he growls, slamming inside me once more. “But it’s worth it, so fucking worth it.”
There is no need to argue because it’s true.
My toes curl in the heels I am wearing as I arch my back, giving him better access. I can feel the wetness pool between us as his fingers dig into the flesh of my hips. I am so close and from the deep, ragged breaths falling from his lips, I’d say he is too.
“Jesus, Em,” Nic wraps one arm around my waist as he pushes down gently with the other on the lower part of my back. “How the hell am I supposed to focus on anything other than seeing this play out over and over in my mind? You are unbelievable.”
Stars…I swear I see them. Little flashes of light in my peripheral vision and my body begins to tingle from the rush of pleasure hitting me. If it wasn’t for the fact that he is holding onto me so firmly, I think I would have sunk to the floor. My legs tremble and I grip the counter so tightly my fingers have begun to ache from the pressure.
“Incredible,” he praises, pumping faster and hitting the desired spot inside me. “Let go,” his whisper encourages. “Show me how good I can make you feel.”
“Yes,” I push back, “so, so good.”
The next minute is a blur as I squeeze my eyes so tightly I cannot confirm nor deny that I didn’t black out for a few short seconds. Holy hell, even my toes ache from the way they curled so intensely in my heels.
We both remain just where we are, him still buried inside me as his thighs twitch against my backside, the long-lasting effects of his release still trying to run their course.
“You’re making it hard for me not to—” Nic pauses as he rests his forehead on my shoulder. I wait for him to continue though he says nothing more. There was something different about his voice, something unsettling.
Then suddenly he is standing as he slowly pulls back and the instant I feel him slip out I miss him fiercely. I stand, righting my skirt and wondering what took place in the last few seconds that made him suddenly withdrawn, both physically and emotionally.
“I guess that we better start our day.”
“Even though we don’t want to—” I turn around to look at him, and he still appears as if something is weighing heavy on his mind. But before I have any further time to analyze it he steps in close and cups the back of my neck, pulling me in close. His forehead rests on mine, and for a few short seconds, we remain in that very spot.
I love when he does this—holds me so delicately.
“The last thing I want is to leave,” he confesses. “If I could stay locked away with you, day and night, without the outside world interrupting us I’d much rather do that.” I smile, the fear of his withdrawal quickly fading. “Call me tonight. We’ll order takeout and watch a movie. Or even if it’s too late for a movie we can curl up and go to bed. As long as I get to hold you I’ll be fine.”
This man made my head spin with possibilities. “Okay.”
He leans in and presses his lips to mine, offering nothing more than a sweet kiss. “I miss you already,” he whispers against my lips then moves back and steps around me quickly. Just as he reaches the door, his phone starts to ring and he reaches into his back pocket. “Vaughn.” His eyes lock with mine as he listens to the other end of the line. “When was she found?”
My stomach tenses, knowing instantly that our moment has passed.
Nicholas
“Hispanic female appears to be in her late teens, possibly early twenties. She was found in the bed by hotel housekeeping.” I enter the hotel suite no more than two hours after I left Emerson’s apartment where I got the call.
Following behind Perry, I listen intently as he explains the situation. “She has marks to both wrists and ankles which lead us to believe she was bound, and the marks on her throat indicate possible strangulation. Whether asphyxia is what led to her death or not is undecided at this point until the autopsy is performed.”
I step up to the side of the bed and scan over her body. She is naked, her hair a matted mess, a possible sign of struggle. Carefully, I observe the team as they scrape beneath her nails, gather items from around the room, and so on, all things that may be used as evidence.
“Have we gathered the security tapes from the halls and elevators?”
Perry nods.
“Interviewed the staff who worked over the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours?”
“We’ve spoken with the hotel manager, and he has called in Mr. Mansfield to gather this information for us.”
Just the mention of Emerson’s father's name causes my lip to curl in irritation. I had no idea this location is one of his.
“He wasn't agreeable at first until he realized that once the media got wind of this, they would be bringing a lot of unwanted attention to his fine establishment.”
“Is he here now?”
Perry nods. “Apparently he arrived only moments ago.”
“Let’s go check those tapes and have a little chat with Mr. Mansfield, shall we?”
The entire ride back downstairs to the main lobby my body hums with energy. I continue to remain tight-lipped as Perry walks toward the front desk and then veers off to the left and begins walking down a long hallway. Even from a distance, I can almost feel her, my hands fisting as I fight the urge to go to her. Emerson is in the middle of a conversation when she turns her head toward us, almost like she feels my presence.
I don’t miss the shock that fills her eyes as she glances between the open door to her left then back to me once more. I imagine just inside that door is the man I despise though I’ve never physically met him.
“Ms. Mansfield,” Perry greets her as I keep my eyes locked on hers. “This is the lead detective on this case, Nicholas Vaughn. He would like to see the tapes from the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours from floor twelve, as well as the main lobby and any other entrances or exits to and from the hotel.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Vaughn.” Emerson reaches her hand out toward me, and I only stare at it with my eyebrow arched. So this is the game we’re playing? Daddy is near, so she can’t possibly show that she knows the man her father feels is beneath her.
I take her hand in mine, but instead of speaking I merely nod in greeting. The desperation in her eyes that indicates she wants me to keep our knowledge of one another hidden only pisses me off, especially after the weekend, hell even the morning, we’d just had together.
“Detective Vaughn,” my stare down with Emerson is cut short by the arrogance of her father as he steps out of the room, “I’ve gone over with my security team the needs of your department
, and they are fully prepared to assist you without any hesitation.”
He doesn’t offer a handshake, just his curt nod as he speaks in a clipped tone.
He is tall with silver grey hair and a squared jaw. I can almost see the arrogance rolling off him in waves. I look between Emerson and her father, trying to find one ounce of resemblance, only there is nothing connecting this man with the woman I’ve begun to fall for.
“We’ll be in my office.” He grips Emerson’s elbow and I can feel my body go rigid immediately. “If you would like anything further on this matter that my security team cannot provide, I’ll need you to discuss that with me.”
“Or her?”
I watch as Hector looks over at his daughter and find the way he glares at her infuriating. His expression looks like he feels she isn’t capable of anything more than he assigns. “Her job does not entail such things.”
Emerson looks down, and again I want to punch the smug bastard for making her feel inferior. Sorry piece of shit is something, that’s a fact. I stand in place as I watch him lead her down the hall. Just as they round the corner, she looks back at me.
It takes all I have in me not to take off after them and rescue her from the hands of that entitled prick. But the fact is she is a grown woman, and she is the one who gives him the power he holds over her. She is also the only person who can take that away.
“What’s up your ass?”
I glare at Terry as he sits in the chair across from me.
“Don’t poke the bear,” Spencer responds before I get the chance to. “He’s sulking, and I’ve already been threatened with bodily harm. There was mention of a beer bottle being shoved up my ass, which let me say is not gonna happen.”
“Why is he sulking?” Terry asks Spencer, as if I am not even there.
“It would seem that he ran into Emerson today.” Terry arches a brow, questioning Spencer’s statement. “The bombshell that won him at the auction. They’ve been hooking up, played house all weekend too.” Terry waves his hand indicating Spencer should continue. “He saw her earlier today when investigating a case, and it would seem that she pretended not to know him because her father was there too.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Hector Mansfield,” Spencer says, and it seems explanation enough.
Terry’s eyes widen, and he mumbles, “No shit.”
“I’m right fucking here, you assholes.” I reach out and smack both on their foreheads.
“So Daddy doesn’t approve?”
“Unless I have a trust fund and six cars lined up, I’m at the bottom of the list.” Hell, I’m not sure that shit would even make a difference since I still wouldn’t kiss his fucking ass like other men do. That man will not have any type of control over me, not now or ever.
“Have you talked to Emerson?” Spencer asks, and I shake my head. “Have you attempted to call her?” Again I shake my head. “Are you gonna?”
“Nope.” I lift my beer to my lips and take a swallow. “I thought about it,” I add once I lower the bottle, “but then decided I’m a grown man and have no need for games. If she wants to act like she doesn’t know me then so be it. But I sure as hell am not going to run to her or chase after her either. I’ve made my intentions clear, and if that's not enough then fuck it.”
“Yeah,” Terry says clicking his beer to mine, “then fuck it.”
Emerson
“It would seem you had a very busy weekend.” I enter my office to find my father sitting in my chair at my desk. He is sifting through my things with a displeased look on his face. “Navy Pier, shrimp, fries, and even pizza. Obviously, you have no respect for the image you must maintain. Prancing around like some harlot, making out in public like a teenager with a man that has been around the block a time or two. A man that I’ve been told doesn’t hide his love for women. Just a week ago he was in some club rubbing all over another woman, and now he’s moved on to you. Don’t you hold any respect for yourself?”
Then he looks up from the papers he holds in his hand, his brows raised in that judgmental manner I know oh too well. I’ve spent more than half my life seeing that very look, no matter how hard I tried to be the person he wanted me to be.
“And let’s not forget that you were seen leaving a certain detective’s apartment earlier this morning, wearing the same clothes you were wearing the day before.”
I stand frozen in the doorway of my office, staring at my father, wondering how he’d managed to gather all the information he held. He tosses the papers to my desk; they scatter across and a few fall to the floor on the opposite side. He stands and begins moving toward me. My heart races and I still say nothing in return.
When he pauses at my side, I feel my body begin to shake nervously.
“Detective Vaughn, is it? Ex-military and known for various heroic acts and crime cases throughout his division. Impressive, maybe? But is it enough for me to want my daughter on his arm? No. He doesn’t fit with our lifestyle, Emerson, but I think you already know that. Testing me is not something I advise you continue to do. I thought I made that clear in the past, but apparently I was mistaken. It sure would be such a shame to see all his accomplishments crumble around him with one simple phone call to the right person.” The warning in his voice is loud and clear. “I will not have my daughter running around the city acting like a whore for a man that this time next month will be on to his next piece of ass.”
“Do you mind telling me why you’re here still?”
My body jerks in surprise as I’m pulled out of my deep thoughts. I look up from my desk to find Gianna standing in the doorway of my office. My earlier thoughts are disappearing quickly, yet still leaving a lingering sadness inside me. She lifts her wrist to look at her watch and purses her lips. “It’s after six and my guess is you still haven’t eaten dinner.”
“I’m here because I have work to do and,” I reach out and lift the small container that was hidden just at the side of my computer, “I ate dinner less than an hour ago.”
“A bowl of fruit hardly qualifies as dinner.”
What she doesn’t know is technically it was my lunch, too, and that I gave over half of it to my assistant. The problem is after my conversation with my father this morning, the young girl's body found in one of our suites, and my unexpected run-in with Nic, I just feel utterly flipped around. Eating lunch or even dinner is the least of my concerns right now.
After we made it back to my dad's office, he assured me that he knew Nic’s superior very well and that if I continued to disgrace his name with my slutty acts, he would have no problem ensuring Nic’s position might somehow be eliminated, or worse.
I didn’t doubt my father because he did have a lot of power and pull throughout the city. I told Nic he would play dirty; I didn’t think he would stoop as low as having me followed, too.
“Pack it up.” Gianna waves her hand out. “I’m taking you for wings and a beer.”
“No,” I start to argue, only she begins packing up my things for me.
“That word is not part of my vocabulary.” She tsks at me. “You know this by now or at least you should.”
Trying to fight her never ends in my favor; she gets more persistent and most cases end with her leading me toward what I was attempting to avoid in the first place.
“The guys are at Mitchell’s pub and Spencer has our orders on hold.” I stop and practically trip over my feet when she mentions the guys.
“I can’t go to Mitchell’s.”
“And why would that be?” Gia places her hands on her hips and gives me her most serious look.
“I just can’t.”
We stand in the hallway just outside my office, near the elevator and share a form of standoff between us—me refusing to give in and her refusing to understand why.
“Is this about your father?”
Alarm rushes through me. “No,” I say quickly, “it's about me realizing that the only thing Nic and I share is physical chemistry. The
re’s nothing else there.” The lie burns as it falls from my lips. “Spending the weekend with him made me see that though he’s gorgeous and we have amazing sex, there isn’t anything more we have in common. It was a fling, but now it’s time for me to grow up and get back to reality.”
I can see the doubt in her expression.
“Being with him was a way to get the wild need out of my system, but I think we both know that Nic and Spencer aren’t lifelong romances.” Lies, so many lies, and I swear I can feel my heart breaking as I say them. “I have expectations for my future and a man like Nic can’t provide them.”
I watch as Gianna looks at me as if she has never seen me before—like a stranger, one she doesn’t care much for.
“I used to think it was your father that was pushing you to be the bitch that most people perceive you as.” There goes another crack. “I’ve stood up for you so many times, but the sad part is you are that person. He’s made you into what he wanted, molded you to be just another one of his puppets.”
I say nothing, though I want to tell her everything. Instead, I watch my best friend stare back at me with nothing but disappointment in her eyes. Before I have a chance to retract everything I’ve just said she turns away from me and enters the waiting elevator. She looks down at the floor, refusing to give me another ounce of her attention as the doors slide shut and I’m left alone…with nothing more than regret and emptiness.
“You have a detective here to see you about the incident in Suite 608.” My heart feels as though it leaps in my chest. “He is waiting in the conference room with two of his colleagues.”
I offer Rose a nod of acknowledgment and stop at my office to leave my briefcase behind before walking toward the large conference room at the end of the hall. My body trembles, and I find it impossible to breathe evenly.
My father is on a business trip and left this morning. I know had he been here it would be him answering any questions and not me. But how can I refuse to cooperate?