With Ties that Bind: A Broken Bonds Novel, Book Two

by Trisha Wolfe

  She raises her eyebrows in mock indignity. “You want to talk transparency? After I find you here with only two for backup?” Her dark eyes drill through me. “Just what was the plan, Quinn? Would you have pulled that trigger?”

  I don’t avert my eyes, but I don’t give her an answer. I’m not sure I have one.

  She rubs her forehead. “No, you’re right. We should’ve trusted each other enough to work together. This could’ve gone bad. It didn’t…but next time, we really should work together.”

  Next time.

  Because the Alpha isn’t dead.

  Teeth clenched, I glance back at Sadie. “I don’t want anyone else going down for this,” I say. “It was my op. I put it together. My colleagues were only following my orders.”

  “You got it,” she says, and I look at her, surprised. “You were in charge of helping your department organize an op within the parameters of the FBI task force. That’s how it will be reported.”

  Unbelievable. “And if it had gone bad?”

  “Then—” she shrugs “—the FBI would’ve had no part of it, of course. You and your team would’ve been arrested for obstruction, and you would’ve probably lost your badge for good.”

  Fucking Feds. “Fine. Then I’m done here.”

  “You’ll thank me tomorrow, detective.” She touches my arm gently. “When you sit behind your desk instead of the inside of a cell.” My nostrils flare, and I move away from her touch. “Go home, Quinn. Sleep. Get some perspective. We’ll take it from here.”

  Agent Bell starts to walk off, but then pivots around. She tucks the phone inside my pocket. “You still might need a friend. Or maybe I will one day.” She winks and then sets off toward the Alpha. Dorian McGregor. Whoever he is, he’s no longer my concern.

  All I want this second is to take Avery away from here.

  There’s the matter of debriefing first, however. Making sure all parties are on the same page before we’re released from the scene. When Agent Bell attempts to pull me into the questioning, I turn my back on her and head toward my car. I’ve heard enough. While the others are debriefed, I lean against the hood, arms crossed over my chest. I don’t mind waiting alone.

  Carson is the first to be released. Unfortunate for him. I push off the hood as he strides away from the group.

  To his credit, he walks directly toward me, even though he should be running in the opposite direction. He does stop a good distance away, though. He definitely should do that. Smart bastard.

  “I just wanted to say…” he starts, driving a hand through his hair. His whole body is tense. “What happened back there. In The Firm…I didn’t mean—”

  I step up to him and cup the back of his neck, bringing his head next to mine. “I owe you a dick punch. But it’s not happening tonight.” I pat him on the shoulder. Hard.

  I want Carson sweating just when that punch is going to come for a good, long while.

  “Avery’s safe.” My gaze wanders to where she and Sadie are wrapping up with Bell. “For now, that’s all that matters. You protected her.” I meet his eyes. “For that…thank you.”

  His shoulders deflate, the fear still evident but dissipating. “I’ll take that punch like a man when it comes.”

  Yes, he will.

  Once Bell releases the rest of our team from debriefing, they meet us at my car. Sadie still has an arm anchored around Avery, shielding her from the chaos.

  I’m acutely jealous of that touch, that protection she’s offering her, and I don’t hesitate as I steal Avery away and wrap both arms around her, tucking her close to my body.

  She shivers against me. “I still don’t understand what happened,” she says.

  I stare at Sadie from over the top of Avery’s head. “We got made.”

  Sadie inhales a deep breath. “Not the first time the Feds swooped in to steal the show.” But I see it in those green eyes; the doubt. The skepticism. The question she won’t voice but is simmering—whether or not I actually informed Agent Bell.

  She’ll probably always wonder, always question if she can trust me—fully trust me now. I guess that makes us even, then.

  “I’m taking Avery home.” I gather her under my arm. “We’ll lay low tomorrow. Let the Feds have their glory. Then, play it by ear. Discuss what we need to. No one makes a statement until then.”

  With a nod, Sadie gives me one last guarded look, then her and Colton climb into the back of the car. Carson follows them. Avery sits up front with me, and it’s a tense drive back to the city, where we all allow each other the privacy of our own thoughts.

  In a way, we succeeded. And we failed.

  The true fallout of our actions lingers at the edge, where darkness and certainty still hang in the balance.

  17

  Carnal

  Avery

  I haven’t yet processed the events of tonight. During the drive into the city, I purposely kept my thoughts void of the Alpha. Trying not to place him, to match his voice with the one I heard over the intercom in the warehouse lab. Not to picture his face beneath the plain white mask of the man who stuck me with a syringe and drugged me.

  Not to feel the cold intrusion of steel from the gun inside me…

  Was he any of them? It’s hard to correlate the mastermind villain we thought him to be with the man—just a man—we brought down tonight.

  Still, every single fragmented piece spins on a loop inside my head. A vicious, never ending circle, like a debilitating OCD trigger that will never be satisfied.

  I still feel the press of Sadie’s concerned, lingering look she gave me when Quinn dropped the rest of our team off at their cars in the Lark and Gannet parking lot. Her eyes said so much in that moment. She’s aware I’ve revealed our secret to Quinn. Soon, I’ll have to confess as much to her, reassuring her that she won’t be prosecuted for Wells’ murder.

  But not tonight.

  Tonight, I want to pretend the Alpha will go away forever, along with all of his accomplices. That his extortion of me poses no threat; the fingerprint on the victim’s neck doesn’t exist. The trafficked women will return to their homes and loving families. Quinn will look at me and only see the woman I am. Not the revenge-motivated victim I became. That somewhere below the fear I still am.

  Quinn’s quiet as he signals his blinker and takes a right onto his street.

  “I think it’s safe for me to go home now.” My voice seems too loud in the small space of the car.

  He pulls into his apartment complex and parks. Kills the engine. “Did you see me hesitate?” he asks.

  Confusion pulls the corners of my mouth down. “What do you mean?”

  He doesn’t look at me as he removes his key from the ignition. His focus remains hard on the windshield, at something beyond. “Did you see me hesitate to pull the trigger?”

  I swallow hard. “Yes,” I answer.

  “You’re not completely safe, Avery. I had one job to do; pull the fucking trigger to ensure the threat against you was eliminated.” He looks at me then. “And I fucking hesitated.”

  With a trembling hand, I go to reach for him, but he pulls away to open the door. “Wait.”

  He stays.

  God, but I just wanted to pretend for one night that this was over. I’m not stupid; I know the Alpha can get to me—can get to all of us—from behind prison walls. If he even goes to prison at all. He’ll be out on bail by the morning, just like the two men who kidnapped me.

  It’s never going to be over.

  For just one night…I wanted to feel safe. I need to feel safe.

  My admission rushes out. “I hesitated, too,” I admit. “I had one job to do to make sure no one questioned Wells’ death. To make it look like an accident, and I couldn’t…” I trail off, the thick lump in my throat choking me off.

  Quinn turns around. “The truth,” he demands. “Not some bogus confession you wrote out of wanting to protect Sadie. Tell me the truth.”

  I swallow down my nerves. “I was there,
but I didn’t plant the evidence. I tried…but I’m just too weak.”

  “Get out of the car.”

  I blink rapidly. “What?”

  He says nothing else as he exits the car and storms around to my side. He wrenches the door open and hoists me out of the seat before I can react.

  Back braced against the car, I stare up into his face. The chill of the night air seeps past my thin dress, and I shiver. His gaze drags down my body. I flinch against his intense scrutiny, my insides no longer quaking from the cold.

  “I can’t feel my legs,” I say. I’m trembling so badly now they can’t sustain my weight.

  With a low groan, Quinn bends at the knees and scoops me into his arms. “Can you feel your arms?” I can only nod. “Good,” he says, kicking the door closed behind us. “Hold on, then.”

  He carries me across the lot and up the two flights of stairs to his apartment. The whole way, I keep my head buried in the pocket of warmth between his neck and chest. I memorize his scent. The feel of his strong arms cradling me.

  If this moment is fleeting, I want to sear it into my memory.

  Once he has the door open and we’re inside his living room, I reluctantly lift my head and prepare to be put down. For his arms and his comforting scent to be taken away.

  But he doesn’t release me. He stalks straight to his bedroom, where he lays me on the bed and hovers from above. “I wanted to kill Carson tonight.”

  I blink up at him, my entire body aware, charged, by his proximity.

  “I still might,” he says, touching the clasp of my dress gingerly. “Seeing him touch you—” A muscle feathers along his clenched jaw. “I’m going to touch, kiss, possess every inch of your body. I’m going to erase the image I have of him with you.”

  He’s not asking permission. And I don’t want him to. Maybe I missed some important shift where he moved past the fact that I’m a criminal. I should keep my mouth shut—but at the risk of ruining this moment, I have to know. “Aren’t you disgusted by me? What I’ve been a part of – what I’ve done—?”

  He answers me with a devastating kiss. His lips crush mine, stealing my breath and the rest of my demands. His weight bears down on me, his strong body a shield against my own destructive thoughts. He kisses me like he fears we don’t have enough time; and maybe we don’t. Tomorrow, anything could happen, so I latch on to him and kiss him back until my lips ache, competing with the deep pang in my chest.

  His body covers mine, pressing me into the mattress, unrestrained and feral as he takes all of me within his kiss. He reaches down and grasps the back of my thigh, drags my leg up as he thrusts against me. I feel his want hard and demanding, the satin dress a poor barrier at disguising his desire.

  “Carson had his hands on this dress,” he says as he breaks away and grips the clasps. “His eyes… All their eyes on you…” He tears the dress down my body. The seams snap against the force.

  I lie before him naked, all but my satin thong, unashamed. “I’m sorry if anything tonight hurt you—”

  “Hurt? More like gutted. Ripped my fucking chest wide open.” He presses his hand to my cheek, runs his thumb over my swollen lips. “But you have nothing to be sorry for.”

  I shake my head, and he lowers his face close to mine to hold me still. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he repeats, emphasizing each word.

  His meaning hits me hard. Understanding crashes into me at lightening speed.

  “But I wanted Wells dead,” I confess.

  His chest rises with a forceful inhale. “I wanted to kill the Alpha.” He roams his coarse hand along my leg, his gaze leisurely tracing its path up until his eyes capture mine. “But I didn’t pull the trigger, and you didn’t kill Wells, nor did you plant the evidence. I don’t know if that makes us weaker…or stronger.”

  I definitely feel weaker. If it had been left solely up to me, I’d probably be in Price Wells’ possession right now. Chained, tortured. Most likely dead. Yet I understand what Quinn is trying to say.

  I reach up and cup his face. “It takes more strength to do the right thing.”

  His hazel eyes crease at the corners. “I’m not even sure I know what that is anymore.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  I slip my fingers beneath the band of his slacks and grip his belt buckle, using it as leverage to pull myself up onto my knees. His breathing hitches as I lock an arm around his flexed shoulders, then proceed to loosen his belt.

  I leave his buckle hanging open as I wander my hand up his taut stomach, undoing the buttons of his shirt as I go. When I reach the top, I slip his tie free and drape it around my own neck, then I push his shirt off his shoulders, loving the feel of his warm flesh against my palms.

  He allows me to pull his shirt off. Before he touches me again, I bring the shirt between us and fold the sleeves together. His brows draw together in confusion, but I continue to fold and then lay his shirt neatly on the edge of the bed.

  “God, that’s sexy.” With one hand, he takes both ends of the tie and drags me to him, his mouth possessive over mine.

  I want more, I want all of him, and I’m not ready when he breaks away.

  “In The Firm…” He runs his hands up to my biceps, holding me at bay. “Were you aroused?”

  A trace of a smile plays at my lips. “You mean, did I suddenly overcome my impaired libido with Carson?”

  His nostrils flare, jaw clamped tight.

  I push against his resistance, arching my chest toward his. “Dry as the Sahara. You’re the only man who does it for me, Ethan.”

  Heat blazes in his eyes, his hands seal like bands around my arms as he pulls me hard to him. His mouth closes over mine, searing my lips with a branding kiss. This man lights me up like an inferno with only the slightest of touches, and now I’m frenzied, consumed under his primal swell.

  His hand travels to my nape where he fists my hair, forcing me to bare the column of my neck to him. His hungry kisses scorch so perfectly. The abrasive feel of scruff along my skin sparks a fire, like a match striking flint against my flesh. “If I have any say about it—” warm breath whispers over my skin “—you’ll never need that aphrodisiac concoction again.”

  Then we’re both tugging at his slacks. Once he’s discarded them, he pushes me back into the bedding, only giving me one heated look before flipping me onto my stomach. He bears down on top of me, his mouth attacking my flesh.

  I grip at the comforter as he buries his hand in my hair, arching me into the perfect position to grind his hard cock against my ass. His other hand reaches between our bodies and snags the string of my thong. He tugs it up, fisting the satin until my clit throbs from the pressure.

  A breathy moan slips free, and his carnal growl answers that plea. His fingers ease beneath my panties and seek the hot center pulsing for him. He swirls his fingers between my lips, gathering my wetness and hitting my clit just right. I buck against him, and his teeth nip at my ear, his heavy breaths erotic and stirring my desire.

  “Spread your legs,” he orders, but even as he says this, he’s working my thighs apart with his knees.

  The sudden rip of shredding material heightens my senses, the feel of his hands tearing my panties away deepens the ache in my core. The anticipation for Quinn to enter me is almost painful. My stomach muscles tense, the ache becoming unbearable.

  He pulls the black tie still linked around my neck so that it aligns along my spine. He moves down my backside, lingering, massaging. Then he drives a hand under my pelvis and hikes my ass off the bed, his mouth taking me in the same beat. I release a moan at the feel of his tongue darting between my lips and tasting me.

  His intense claiming tears at my control. As he takes me deeper, sucking my clit and sinking his tongue inside, my hips undulate to his rhythm, my spread-wide position making each time I thrust my pelvis a dirty act, and I become wetter.

  His guttural groan against my flesh sends a jolt skittering over my skin. “More than once,” he says, rearing
back as he slaps his hand against my cheek and grips my skin. He forcefully pulls my back against his chest, both of us breathing fast. “I’ll have you more than once tonight,” he says just as he rests the tip of his cock at my entrance.

  I reach behind and clutch his neck, bracing myself against him.

  “Are you on—”

  “Yes,” I breathe out. “I’m on birth control, and if you don’t fuck me right now I’m going to combust.”

  All the permission he needs, Quinn presses his hand against my pelvis and guides me down along this thick shaft. He sinks into me deep, to the hilt, spreading me and filling me all at once.

  His groan travels the length of me, curling along my skin, vibrating against my ear. I feel powerful and helpless—an impossible stir of emotions. Desperate to own the strength in this man; desiring to be the one to bring him to his knees, battling with the insufferable desire to submit to him. Needing him to own me and take me in every way.

  He backs out only to fill me again. His hips slam against me as I dig my nails into his neck, clinging to him the way his fingers brand my skin as he rocks into me harder each time.

  As his thrusts overpower me, I search for purchase. His growl lashes through me as he wraps an arm around my middle and carries me to the head of the bed. I latch on to the headboard, then he’s driving into me with unguarded thrusts, doing just as he promised; touching, kissing, possessing every inch of my body.

  He’s at my breast, fingers plucking my nipple until my insides are wound tight and begging for release. His other hand works my clit, sending erotic pulses of pleasure to every nerve ending, my body an over-strung instrument beckoning for the final strum to break me free.

  And when I’m there—my moans unrestrained and his name falling liberally—he clasps onto my shoulders and drives his hips up, powerful thrusts slamming me, but I don’t break.