by Joely
So instead of heading home for a shower and maybe a late dinner with Mal, he’d be guzzling coffee, eating shit out of a paper bag, and cranking out paperwork most of the night. Great.
Elias hung up and immediately made another call. “Hey, babe. Yeah, another late one.”
A surge of jealousy took Colby’s breath away and he actually turned and walked back up the street a ways under the guise of searching through the refuse for clues. He wanted someone to call. Someone who’d worry whether he came home or not. Would Mal want a call from him? Would she be surprised if he called? Or glad?
Before he could talk himself out of it, he called her number. Daylight was fading fast. Coroner would need the big lights to take the initial pictures.
“Detective Wade.” The husky timbre of her voice was like a punch in his gut. “I didn’t know if you’d have the balls to call me back or not.”
Despite the frustration of yet another solid lead against the drug cartel going cold, he had to laugh. “Oh I got the balls all right. Thought I showed you that last night.”
“You showed me a lot last night, sugar. The question is, whether you’ll let me explore some more.”
He glanced over his shoulder to check on his partner. Elias was still on the phone, so Colby kept walking, slowly searching through empty beer battles and musty newspapers for anything useful. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot, actually. But I’m going to be working late tonight.”
“All night?”
He blew out a sigh. “Yeah, probably.”
“Is that an often occurrence for you, detective? Working all day, and then all night too?”
Resignation tightened his throat. He’d seen if often enough with the other cops. Hell, even Elias. Busted relationships, angry wives and girlfriends. The stress and worry gnawing away any love they’d been able to nurture. Better that Mal knew what his life was like now and move on, than be disappointed. “More often than not.”
“I’m not happy about that, detective.”
He nodded and blew out a breath. “Figured as much.”
She was quiet a moment. Long enough that he flashed through memories of last night again. The challenge in her eyes. The light. The insane sense of immediate trust he’d felt with her. He could almost taste that cobbler and ached to hear her tell him to eat every bite again. Not that he needed the command, now. He just wanted to hear it.
“I guess I can’t punish you for things out of your control.”
His ears rang a moment and he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly. “Ma’am?”
She laughed, that husky slide of velvet that made him shiver. “Oh there you go again, detective, talking so sweetly and politely. That’s not fair if you’re not even going to come see me tonight. If I’m going to punish you for something, it’ll be because you deliberately did something to earn it. Not because you had to stay out late for your job.”
“I guess you’ll never have cause to do that, then.” He deliberately kept his words vague in case Elias was listening with half an ear.
“I wouldn’t say that at all, sugar. You’d be surprised what a desperate man will do when he needs a little attention.”
The way she said attention sent shivers running up and down his spine again. The Mistress’s unwavering, intense attention. He could only imagine what a force of nature that would be like.
“Why are you having to stay out all night, if you can tell me?”
“Body.” He kept his response vague, but she’d be able to guess enough.
“Are you safe?” Her voice sharpened.
He couldn’t answer right away, too moved by the concern in her voice. “No worries. Not tonight.”
“We’ll have to set up some kind of code word for when you’re going to be in danger. That way I won’t worry about you—until it’s time to worry.”
He heard footsteps coming behind him, so he smiled and put some cockiness back into his voice. “Don’t you worry about me none, ma’am.”
“Call me when you’re done. I don’t care what time it is. I want to know when you’re home. That’s an order, detective.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.” He hung up and turned to face his partner. In the fading light, he didn’t need to see Elias’s face to know curiosity would be eating him alive. “You want to split up and hit this faster?”
“Sure,” Elias replied slowly. “You take the north side, I’ll take the south. Thirty minutes. Then meet back here.”
“You and I both know that we won’t find any witnesses.”
“But we’ve got to check that box on the report anyway.” Elias hesitated, not walking away to start their work yet. “You called Mal?”
Colby shrugged, playing it off. “Didn’t want her to think I was blowing her off.”
Elias patted his pockets until he found a pack of gum. A few months ago, he’d have pulled out a pack of cigarettes, but Vicki had put a stop to that. “What did you tell her you’d do?”
Colby flashed that cocky grin again and headed for his side of the street of rundown buildings. “None of your business.”
Elias grunted with disgust. “Thank God.”
It was after four in the morning before Colby was able to climb into his truck, watching while Elias took off in the opposite direction. His eyes were gritty and hot, but he felt wide awake. Just the promise of calling Mal had kept him going through what seemed like an endless losing battle. Junkies too high to know what year it was, terrified immigrants afraid of getting hauled off for deportation, or people too poor to live anywhere else than across the street from a known drug house. None of them had seen a thing. Naturally.
He held the phone to his ear, counting the rings. She picked up on the third, her voice thick with sleep. “Colby?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m done.”
Sheets rustled, and he could picture her lying there on her pillows. “You okay?”
“Sure. Just tired.” In more ways than one.
“Come over. If you want.”
“Ah, I’d love to, but I don’t want you to have to get up or anything.”
“I’ll give you my door code and you can let yourself in. I won’t even get out of bed.”
“Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“It’ll be Saturday.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” Dropping his head back against the seat, he let out a weary laugh. “I forgot what day it is.”
“Will you have to work?”
“Maybe, but not right away.”
“So come over, get some sleep, and I’ll make you breakfast.”
It sounded nice. Heavenly. But he didn’t know what she’d want from him. Some sexy, light banter had been great, but he felt like an exhausted, strung out junkie. He wasn’t sure what kind of sex he’d be able to give her, whether it’d be worth her time or not.
“No scene or sex, at least not tonight. Just rest. You need it.”
“You won’t mind company?”
She hesitated a minute, and he heard the quaver in her voice. “I’d love it.”
She needed the companionship as much as he did. Just to have someone beside him, someone to wake up and smile at. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes or so.”
“Don’t drive home and shower first,” she yawned and the sleepy sound curled his toes. She sounded like a kitten all curled up and sweet—not the ferocious tiger on the prowl. “You can shower here.”
He started up his truck and turned toward her place. “You sure you want me fumbling around in your bathroom? I thought that was a woman’s sacred space.”
“Ha, not me. My sacred space is my bed and you’ve already been here.”
Her words were sweet, but mumbled and slurred. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Now go back to sleep, ma’am.”
“If I wasn’t so tired I’d probably beat you when you got here for trying to tell me what to do.” She yawned again and sheets rustled, as if she was burrowing back down in her pillows. “Drive safely.”
&nb
sp; “Will do.” He hung up and fought the urge to floor it. At least there wasn’t any traffic this early in the morning, though it felt like he crawled all the way to her house by following the speed limit. Her street was dark, but the porch light was on. Had she gotten up after all? Or did she normally leave it on? Maybe he was reading too much into this. A single woman, living alone, would probably always have a light on. It had nothing to do with the hope that her lover might come to her in the wee hours of the morning. Walking up to her door, he checked his phone, and found her text with the code to her automatic door lock.
Habit made him pause and scan his surroundings once again, listening and feeling for any sense of anyone watching or following. Not even a dog barked in the neighborhood. His fingers trembled slightly on the keypad but he got the code entered on the first try and quietly shut and locked the door behind him. A night light gleamed in the hallway, leading him to the bathroom. Knowing that she was so close it was all he could do not to slide into bed and take her in his arms, but he wouldn’t come to her smelling of the streets. In fact, he should have taken his shoes off at the door rather than walking through her house. God only knew what he’d contaminated her wood floors with. Next time, he swore to himself. He’d take his shoes off and tiptoe through her house.
Next time. Would this continue that far? God, I hope so.
The water barely had time to heat up and he was out, drying off with a towel from the shelf. He looked like hell, all grizzled cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes, but he didn’t want to rummage around in her drawers to find a razor. A basket on the shelf held a couple of brand new toothbrushes still in the wrapper. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind him using one, because he sure didn’t want to have to remember not to kiss her. He tidied up—hung the towel on a hook on the door, picked up his clothes and stacked them neatly on the floor out of the way—and then slipped on his boxers. He didn’t want to presume too much by sliding into her bed naked when she’d clearly said no scene, no sex. At least not tonight.
Her room was pitch dark, so he moved slowly, making sure he didn’t crash into that dog kennel or her dresser. Her breathing was deep and even, so she’d been able to get back to sleep after his call. As quietly as possible, he climbed onto the mattress, carefully feeling for her position so he wouldn’t pull her hair or thump her in the head. His fingers found her warmth, the silk of her arm. She wore something too, cotton, it felt like, so he was glad he hadn’t come to her bed naked. He tucked in behind her, spooned against her and she sighed. Nestling her head back against him, she put her hand on his arm and tucked him closer.
Lying there, listening to her breathe, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman like this. Not for sex, but just… warmth. Comfort. Company. He smoothed his hand gently up and down her arm, reveling in the silk of her skin, and the simple pleasure of touching her. He buried his nose in her hair and fell like a rock into heavy sleep.
Chapter Ten
It was nice having a man in her space again. Even asleep, Colby’s energy seemed to hum in the air around her, heightening her senses and engaging her mind in the endlessly hot things she could teach him. Sipping coffee, Mal sat down at the small round table she kept in the breakfast nook and stared out the window into her back yard. She wasn’t a master gardener, but she was proud of the small, private oasis she’d built in the middle of the city. It helped that her house was in an older part of Dallas, so the trees were big and gorgeous. Someone had done all the hard work for her decades ago and put in some beautiful roses along the back fence. She loved them, but it was the climbing roses she’d planted on her brand new arbor five years ago that she was most pleased with. In the summer, she loved to sit outside in the evening beneath a golden curtain of flowers and smell their sweet perfume. She’d spent months researching to find exactly the right rose. Fragrant, climber, golden peach and soft white hues. They’d start to bud soon.
Waking up with him beside her had been glorious. She barely remembered him climbing in behind her, his arms coming around her. He hadn’t made advances, which she appreciated. She’d have had to teach him a lesson in humility that he might not have enjoyed at all, and she’d been too tired to even contemplate a scene. Even a light, fun scene. She’d stayed up too long reading through the information Patrick had given her about pony kink, so she could start sketching out the season.
Even now, fully rested and wide awake, she wasn’t quite ready to tackle a new scene with Colby. She felt the need to get closer to him, to know him better. Communication. Stories from their past. Sex was good, but she yearned for connection and conversation too. If he couldn’t open up and share more about his past, his family, or his job, so she really knew him, then she’d have to send him packing, as disappointing as that would be. Another reason Andy had not been the right man for her. He’d never been able to mature beyond hanging out with his old college buddies playing poker. For all she knew, Colby was the same, only hanging out with his cop buddies. She didn’t have a problem with that on the surface—as long as he was willing to dig deeper with her. She wanted a deep, rich relationship, not a purely sexual relationship that she could satisfy with a one night stand with someone from the club.
She refilled her cup and poured him one, though she didn’t know if he even liked coffee, let alone how he took a cup. Then she walked into her bedroom. Even dark from the light-blocking shades and curtains, she could feel him. Hot energy, simmering just beneath the ground, like a volcano that could crack open the earth and spew hot lava at any moment. She set their cups on the nightstand and pulled open the heavy curtains. The blinds still filtered the brutal Texas sun out, but the room lightened considerably. Time to see what kind of morning person he was. The first night they’d spent together, he’d woken up and left with a simple kiss goodbye, and she’d let him slip away, knowing he had to work. He might have to report in today, but he’d said not right away. They could have some time together, just the two of them.
For a moment, she just watched him sleep. His jaws were dark with stubble, the hard, long lines of his body barely relaxed, even in sleep. He’d kicked one leg out from beneath the blanket, so she could see his boxers. He hadn’t come to bed naked. She liked it when a man wasn’t too presumptuous. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to trail her fingertips down the long line of his thigh, but she didn’t get the chance. One second he was sound asleep, and the next, she felt the wind of movement perilously close to her face as he whipped across the bed in a flying somersault and landed crouched, facing her, hands lifted like weapons.
Wide eyed, she could only stare at him mutely. Her mind recognized that she’d escaped a very close call. He’d no doubt meant to strike out a hard kick at whoever threatened him before he cleared the bed, but something had kept him from connecting with her head. A kick or punch from a lethally trained soldier like him would probably put a woman in the hospital.
Her body was another story entirely. She appreciated the powerful, effortless way he moved. The threat of danger had sent a surge of adrenaline pumping through her veins, calling to her Mistress-hunter side. She loved a challenge, and the feral way he moved, still foggy with sleep, presented an near insurmountable obstacle. Everything in the tensed muscles, coiled strength, and bare-handed combat screamed untamable.
Yet that was exactly what she most wanted to do. Tame him. Break her to her hand. While still retaining that wild, incomparable heart of the warrior.
“Fuck!” His eyes flared wide and he scrambled across the floor frantically, slamming his back against a wall. “Fuck! Are you hurt?”
His chest heaved, his eyes wild, and she could see him starting to shut down internally. Rapid blinks, quivering muscles forced from a relaxing sleep to all-out war to shock. Guilt darkened his eyes. He raked a hand over his face and dropped his head against his knees. Hiding, gathering himself together.
Even commanded to stillness beneath her while she’d taken her pleasure, he hadn’t been this vulnerable. This clo
se to crumbling into a thousand pieces.
Accidentally hurting her was probably worst case for him. As polite and well mannered as he was, hurting a woman would genuinely be one of the worst things he could do. He wouldn’t take a near miss lightly, even though it hadn’t been his fault at all. Yet it was important for her to handle this situation correctly. Baby him, and he would remember later that he’d been weak and vulnerable before her. A man of his training would hate that. That memory would gnaw at him like a cancer, slowly destroying every bit of trust and affection she would have gained. Yet if she handled him too brusquely, not recognizing this vulnerability, he could shut down emotionally and withdraw entirely, which was exactly the opposite of what she wanted from him.
“I’m fine,” she said, pleased her voice was steady. “Are you all right? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have approached you like that while you were sleeping.”
His voice was muffled against his knees but she understood him. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“Not a hair on my head. Want some coffee? I brought you a cup.”
He lifted his head, eyes narrowed as if he suspected she was lying. He scanned her face, and she didn’t try to hide from him. She let him see that she was rattled—appropriately warned not to wake him like that again—but definitely not scared out of her mind.
She reached over and picked up her cup, tipping her head toward his. “I wasn’t sure how you like it. Sugar? Cream? I left it black for now but I have both in the kitchen.”
He didn’t answer, but silently watched her sip for a few moments. She kept her manner calm and relaxed. Her hand trembled slightly but not enough that she spilled any of the coffee.
“I should have realized a cop wouldn’t like anyone approaching from his blind side while he was asleep. How should I wake you up next time?”
“The hell if I know.”
She quirked her lips in a teasing grin. “Next time I’ll just stand in the kitchen and holler, ‘Come and get it!’ That work?”