by Susan Stoker
“I can’t answer that.” Cain picked up a napkin and dabbed at her nose.
She took the napkin and turned away to blow. “Sorry. You have enough worries without having to console me.”
His arms came around her, and he pulled her head to his shoulder. He let out a sigh. “All he has to do is make one wrong move. Give us a reason to arrest him.”
“And you’d keep him jailed for how long?” She shook her head. “He has great lawyers.”
“Just one wrong move,” Cain whispered, and then kissed her hair.
When she glanced up, she shivered. His face was drawn into harsh lines. This was the lawman. The one you didn’t cross. She was glad he was on her side. “What do you need me to do? And don’t say nothing.”
One corner of his mouth curved. “Being cooped up wearing on you?”
“It is. Has to be making you crazy, too. Playing bodyguard’s not something you signed up for.”
“I don’t know…” He tucked her hair behind her ears. “Job definitely has its perks.”
Silently thanking him for lightening her mood, she smiled.
He tipped her chin and placed a kiss on her mouth. “Thanks for breakfast. I’m going to make some calls. See what’s happening at the station. How about you stay upstairs today?”
“Away from the windows. I know. There’s still a baseboard that needs another coat of paint.”
“Only if you want to.”
She shrugged. “I like keeping busy. Funny, that used to mean getting a manicure or shopping. Having lunch with one of Joey’s friends’ wives. I like this better.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I still owe you underwear. We’ll make that shopping trip…soon.”
She stood and turned to walk away, and he slapped one side of her butt. She didn’t look back, but her face was warm and her heart lighter as she left the room.
Chapter Seven
‡
That night, Cain waited for the patrol car to pull up to the curb in front of his place before he padded toward the bedroom. Tank was keeping watch. Again. He’d texted Cain, telling him to get some shut-eye or whatever it was he wanted to do. He’d keep an eye out for “Joey G.”
As he walked, Cain checked out the trim next to the floor. Not a drip mark. She was a natural. He should tell her she could hire out as a housepainter. Only she couldn’t charge by the hour. She’d taken nearly the entire afternoon to complete the hallway. Every time he spied her, she was bent, her sweet round butt in the air as she diligently painted with a too-small brush, because she was determined the paint would go where she put it, not where it chose to drip.
The only light inside the bedroom came from the half-closed bathroom door, the sound of the shower alerting him where she was. He smiled. This was something they hadn’t done. Showering together. He stripped quickly, leaving his weapon on the nightstand and his clothes on the floor.
His cock hardened as he ogled the woman standing on the other side of the shower curtain hung from an oval ring above the tub. The curtain was opaque and white, but she was bent over, offering a pretty, muted view of her pink bottom.
When he whipped back the curtain, she straightened and squealed, then threw the cloth she’d been using at his chest. “Don’t do that!” Her gaze roamed downward. “Hey, don’t just stand there. Water’s getting on the floor.”
He stepped over the rim of the tub while eyeing her slick body. Soap bubbles slid in ropes down her soft belly. He liked her bossy tone, and he grinned wider when she turned and held up a bar of soap.
“Since I don’t have a back brush, you’ll have to do the honors.”
He let the cloth drop and soaped his hands, then began rubbing her back, working his way downward from her shoulders. When he reached the cute dimples just above her ass, he rinsed his hands and knelt to lick the small thumbprint hollows.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “The tub floor’s too slippery for any gymnastics.”
“Shut up,” he said. “Let a man enjoy himself.”
“Huh.”
Since she didn’t offer another rebuke, he continued his exploration, palming both cheeks before trailing his tongue up the narrow divide.
“Stop!” She stiffened and tried to step forward.
But he encircled her thighs with one arm and licked her again, although now she’d tensed, trying to restrict his access. He slipped a hand between her thighs and pushed upward until his fingers rubbed her folds. “Missed a spot,” he said.
“Glad you found it.”
He found her entrance and pushed a finger inside her.
Her thighs quivered, and she inched apart her feet.
He added a finger and swirled them, listening for the telltale gasp when he stroked just the right place.
Her hand slapped the wall for support. “Cain!”
“Carina!” He kissed her cheek. “How about you get on down here?”
With the water sluicing from above, she lowered to her knees, then with his hands guiding her, bent forward to place her hands on the bottom of the tub. “We’ll slide all over the place.”
“It is a problem,” he drawled as he blinked at the falling water. “Let me figure this out.”
Kneeling behind her, he continued to plunge his fingers inside her, waiting until her back lowered in the middle, raising her ass. Now she didn’t care how much slipping and sliding they might do. He thumbed apart her folds and guided his cock to the mouth of her entrance. Only he wasn’t quite ready to sink inside. At least, not there. “Trust me?”
“Not when your voice goes all growly like that.”
He gave a dirty chuckle. Then, while working her with the fingers and thumb of one hand, he traced her divide, moving slowly downward and gently rimming her tiny puckered hole.
She gave a throaty groan. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You’re holding your breath. If you really wanted me to stop, you’d be yelling.”
“Think you know everything?”
He replaced the finger with his thumb and continued rubbing her tiny hole, then pushed his cock inside her channel slowly, or tried to.
She bumped backward, wiggling her butt to take more of him inside.
He let her think that was all he was going to do, pumped slowly in and out while he rubbed and rubbed. When she tossed back her head and bounced against him, he pushed his thumb inside.
“Cain!”
Her shout echoed in the bathroom, but he didn’t remove his digit. No, she was squeezing her inner muscles around him, small convulsions massaging his shaft as he thrust.
“Oh God, that feels so good. Oh fuck,” she whispered, going to her elbows and gasping as he quickened his strokes.
“That’s it, baby,” he said, rotating his thumb, massaging the rim of her tight little rosette. “Like that, do you?”
“I hate you. Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, then grew rigid and issued a keening cry.
Before her orgasm waned, he pulled his thumb free and gripped the notches of her hips to hold her still as he pounded inside her. His little wildcat braced a hand against the wall of the tub and met his thrusts, tilting higher, taking him so deep he touched her cervix. Then he was gone, come spurting deep inside her.
Spent, he pulled her torso upward to cuddle her back against his belly. She reached behind and draped an arm behind his neck. He smoothed his hands over her belly and breasts, molding her curves, soothing them both until they could breathe evenly again.
Then she rested the back of her head against his shoulder, and he kissed her temple. “Still hate me?”
She pinched his thigh. “I know I’ll blush every time you smile at me.”
He reached beyond her to turn off the water.
“I don’t want to move,” she said, rubbing her cheek against his skin.
“Bed doesn’t sound good right now?” His cock began to slide from inside her.
She moaned.
He kissed her shoulder. “Up.” He dried them both th
en picked her up and carried her to the bed. He cast a glance at his weapon, and then lay on his back.
She scooted close and draped her arm and thigh over his body, then nuzzled his neck. In what felt like seconds, she was asleep.
Cain liked the feel of her against him. He never again wanted to sleep with his arms empty. He kissed the top of her hair then hugged her closer. He’d give himself an hour of rest before taking another turn around the house. Nothing was more important in his life now than the woman drooling on his chest.
Cain coughed then jerked awake in the darkness. Smoke filled his nostrils with his next inhalation.
Fire! He shook Carina awake. “We have to get out of the house.” He pushed her off the bed and followed her to the floor.
“Clothes.”
They both scrambled to dress. He found his jeans and slipped them on, then tossed her a tee. He felt for his weapon and slipped it into the back of his waistband then crawled to the door and touched it. No heat. Her hand touched his thigh. “Stay close. He reached up and twisted the handle, opening it a crack. Smoke swirled inside, but he saw no flames, although he did hear a distant crackle. “Keep quiet,” he whispered.
Beneath the smoke that hung in a heavy cloud above them, they crawled down one side of the hallway toward the staircase.
At the top, he looked down into the darkness. Moonlight filtered through the curtainless windows. He could see into the living room and the kitchen area. The space was clear. The fire had to be coming from the rear of the house.
“Let’s get to the garage. Stay behind me.” He rose with his back against the wall of the staircase and pulled his pistol from the waistband of his jeans. Holding his weapon in front of him, he began the descent. Where the hell was Tank? No sirens could be heard in the distance, so he knew Tank hadn’t called in the fire. His belly tightened. Joey was near. Maybe inside the house. He worried about Tank, but the woman clutching his waistband was his priority.
And the more he thought about where the fire was, the surer he was that Joey was funneling them toward the garage. Everything he’d needed to start the fire was right there: a can of gas, wood shavings on the floor. But Joey chose the back of the house. Unfortunately, the back door was out, likely engulfed in flames. The front? If Joey was near the garage door, he’d have a clear view of the front door, too. At the foot of the stairs, he pulled Carina close. “I need you to be brave,” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded, her hair rubbing his cheek.
“When we get to the mudroom, I need you to drop into the crawlspace under the house.”
She jerked a little away. “You’re not coming with me?”
“I have to finish this, babe. I need you safe.”
Her grip on his jeans tightened. “And me crawling under a burning house is safe?”
“You don’t have to go far. Once you’re under, move to the front side of the house and feel the bricks with your hands. There’s an access door. Push it out, keep close to the wall, and then run for the woods. Get somewhere safe and sit.”
“No, you come with me.”
Cain cupped her chin, lifting her face. He kissed her hard. “Let me do my job, Carina.”
She wanted to argue with him, he knew, because she drew another deep breath, but he pressed a finger over her mouth. “Do as I say. If I’m worried about you, I could get us both killed.”
He didn’t give her time to think up another argument. He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him as he darted into the kitchen. He crouched below each window and made sure Carina did the same. Inside the mudroom, he scooted aside the plywood, and then handed her down into the space.
As she squatted, her gaze clung to his face. “It’s pitch black.”
He gripped her shoulders and faced her toward the front of the house. “This direction. Now, go.”
Once he saw her drop to her knees, he covered the hole and breathed. He centered himself, calming his heart, focusing on his surroundings. He stepped into the garage.
Carina crawled forward, stilling an immediate shriek when her face was covered with something light and sticky—a cobweb. Mother fucker. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She kept the litany of curses going through her mind. She didn’t dare whisper them, or they’d escalate to screams. Joey was out there. Cain was walking into a goddamn trap. Cain could die and it would be all her damn fault.
She should have listened to her mother. Should have sent Joey packing the first time he’d shown up in his expensive leather jacket and sleek boots. Should have spit in his eye when he’d given her a ring. She’d thought he would ask her to marry him, but he’d only wanted it on her hand to brand her when she was with his friends.
Her knee landed on a hard stone and she gasped, rearing upward. Her head struck a beam. Tears filled her eyes, but she couldn’t wipe them away because she knew her hands were dirty and would leave muddy streaks. A gleam of light pierced the darkness. She turned to glance to her right. The floor above her was glowing. And the sound that had been a distant crackle was now a roar as the fire consumed the wood. She had to get out. Now.
Again, she moved forward. Her hand struck brick, and she moved left, smoothing her palms over the rough surface to find the door he’d mentioned. Nothing. She moved to the right, toward the fire, her heart pounding faster and faster. At last, she felt the edge of a board and ran her fingers along the outline. A frame. She pushed at the center board and the door popped outward, landing with a soft thud on the grass outside.
But she held back, afraid to exit. Joey could be out there, waiting. She wasn’t sure what scared her more: her ex, or the fire roaring above her body.
In the distance, she heard a pop-pop, like firecrackers going off. Her heart stilled. Gunshots! She heard two more and jerked with each sound. Then silence. She held her breath, afraid to move. Another pop. This one louder, sounding closer—then footsteps rustling in the grass next to the house. Holding her breath, she eased beside the access door, hiding in the shadows, praying…
“Baby, you in there? Carina!”
At Cain’s shout, she sobbed and lurched toward the opening. Hands grasped her under the arms and pulled her the rest of the way through, and then she was lying across his lap as he rocked her against his chest. “It’s okay. It’s over. You’re safe, baby. Shhhh.”
Carina clutched his arm and snuggled closer, wishing she could crawl right inside him. His strong arms surrounded her, squeezing the breath out of her. In the distance, she heard sirens.
“We have to move away from the house.”
He was right, heat seared the skin of her back. He struggled with her weight, but got to his knees, then rose, carrying her in his arms toward the street and the squad car with its open door.
A figure sat against the front wheel. Cain’s friend, Tank Owens.
He rubbed his head. Blood poured from a cut on his forehead.
Cain set her on her feet. “You okay?”
She pulled at the hem of her tee. Tank was eyelevel with her ass. “I’m fine. He looks worse,” she said, aiming her chin at Tank’s injury.
“Damn, I’m fucking useless,” Tank said. “Bastard got the drop on me. Was going to take a walk around the yard, and I got popped. Never saw it coming.”
“That’s what he used.” Cain kicked a two-by-four lying on the ground.
Carina tugged on his arm. “I heard shots.”
Cain stiffened. “He opened fire the minute I stepped into the garage. All I could do was dive for the floor. When I came back up, I just made out his shadow.” He swallowed and looked away.
She turned to stare at the house. His pretty Victorian would be a charred mess come sunrise. “He still in there?” she asked, keeping her tone even.
He gave a sharp nod.
“Good.” Tension drained, and she swayed.
Cain glanced downward. “Damn, Tank, pop the trunk. I need a blanket.”
“Don’t on my account,” his friend said, giving her a little waggle of his eyebrows.
&n
bsp; His wince was very satisfying. Another thought occurred. “My money!”
Cain’s lips twisted then flattened into a straight line. “Sorry, sweetheart. It’s gone.”
She thought about it for a moment. Then she shrugged. “It was bad luck, anyway.”
He placed the blanket around her shoulders, catching the ends near her chin and tugging her forward. “Told you before. You don’t need it. I’ll take care of you.”
Carina tilted her head to the side. “Think your girlfriend, the mayor, can find me something else to wear?”
Cain laughed and hugged her against him.
Trucks and squad cars began arriving, barreling down the drive. And although there was a distant hydrant, the house was too engulfed. Water from the hoses hissed as it hit the flames.
The sheriff strode toward Cain, his glance landing on her wrapped in a blanket and Cain’s arms. “This thing finished?”
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded, and then reached into his pocket. “You can take my truck. Keys to my house are on the ring, too. Worry about where you’re going to sleep tomorrow.”
“Thanks, boss.”
“No, thank you,” the sheriff said. “Those extra patrols were eating up my budget.” He laughed and turned away, making a beeline to the fire chief standing next to the pumper truck.
Carina leaned against her man’s broad chest. She wondered if maybe there’d been a moment. A choice he’d had to make about whether Joey was worth arresting. If he’d been quick to pull the trigger, she didn’t want him harboring any guilt. “Thank you, Cain,” she said softly.
Cain turned her and bent his head, touching their foreheads together. “You know, you’re free now, sweetheart. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to be.”
She laid her palm against his cheek. “If it’s okay with you, then I’d like to stay.”
His eyes reflecting the fiery blaze, he kissed her hard.
“Uh, buddy. That blanket’s slipping.”
She and Cain didn’t bother aiming frowns at Tank. They leaned together, arms wrapped tightly around each other’s bodies, and laughed.
*
Cain gave a chirp of his siren as he pulled into the drive. He cut the engine before glancing upward at the tin roof topping a pretty white limestone house. The front door opened and Carina walked outside, her arms going wide as she stood on the front porch. “Well, what do you think?” she asked, as he stepped out of his patrol car.