“Fine.” The reply came out as a sulk, but she didn’t care. She observed him as he traced over her palm and each finger, looking for lines and whorls that didn’t exist. Anger, disbelief, wonder, and maybe even a little fear chased each other over his beautiful masculine features.
“I’m not lying.” The light caresses strengthened the fire she’d thought to be mostly extinguished and she took a half step forward, closer to his tall, muscular form.
“No, I guess you’re not. About the finger prints… Were you born without them, or did you have them removed somehow?” His eyes flicked up and met her gaze, then back down.
Hurt closed its fist around her chest. “How can you ask me something like that? Not five minutes ago, you told me you didn’t care the hows and whys of this…thing…between us. You were all over me. And now you’re acting like a jerk cop.”
“I am a jerk cop.”
Chapter Seven
God, the look on her face. Greiff wished he could erase it. Even though he’d known she was there at his scene, hearing her admit it didn’t fill him with the normal satisfaction a confession garnered. Instead, it started an entire new line of questions for him.
Her fingers were completely devoid of any kind of line at all. Smooth, soft. No scars, no whorls or lines on them anywhere. She tugged, and he released her. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of lust from her touch, and a thread of fear clenching in his gut.
He didn’t like to be afraid. The best way for him to get rid of the fear was to find its root and dig it out. What scared him in that moment was not knowing what was going on or why. This connection between them and the strange abilities they possessed. Him, the color-blind cop with a suped-up nose, and her, a self-professed vigilante with the power to turn invisible and no finger or foot prints. He’d find answers, and the fear would go away.
Now that he knew she wasn’t lying about the prints, it wasn’t as easy to dismiss her claims about the other ability. But he’d seen her in the subway. Every exposed, curvaceous inch.
Had anyone else? They’d passed her by without a sideways glance.
Doubt crept in and added to the jangling warning his instincts gave off. Despite the nudges about danger from his intuition, he craved the feel of her mouth and tongue on his again, of having her body plastered tight to his. The warmth of her waist under his palm brought him slamming back to reality. They’d moved closer together once more, and neither of them was aware of doing it.
Shit.
“Let’s go and take the cart back. We’ll work the rest out later.” He swallowed hard, cheeks sticking to his teeth in his parched mouth. What he wouldn’t give for a cigarette. The second he tucked it between his lips she’d toss it for sure.
She snorted, looked both ways, and jaywalked, pushing the cart with its clanging wheel off the curb and out into the street. “Give me a ticket, and I’ll kick your ass.”
The black spandex pants she had on clung to every flexing muscle in her bottom, and he fell back a step to observe the show. He’d never get enough of her ass.
They approached the double glass doors of the little shop her friend owned. Chloe stepped to the front of the cart to open the door and stopped with her hand on the metal handle.
He caught up and looked inside. A man with a stocking cap over his face brandished a gun at Frank, and threw an old black book bag at the shorter man, shouting for him to empty the register.
Instinct took over.
Greiff yanked her back and shoved her against the wall where stray bullets wouldn’t hit her.
“Get down,” he hissed, jerking his radio off his belt to call dispatch.
“I have to help him.” She shucked her flip-flops and stood. “If that’s the same guy who’s been robbing the other stores in the area, you know as well as I do he’s going to kill Frank. You wanted to see me naked again, remember? Now’s your chance.”
The pants skimmed over her thighs, and she kicked them to the side. The top followed and she bundled it all into a ball.
“Damn it, Chloe.” Shit. He warred with indecision. If he stayed with her to ensure she didn’t go inside, Frank might die. And if he left her, she was sure to go inside the second he wasn’t there to stop her. A glimpse through the door revealed Frank stuffing the back pack with cartons of cigarettes. “You can’t go in there. He’ll shoot you. We’ve got to wait here for back up. What are you going to do, flash him into submission?”
“No, I’m going to walk in there and crack him over the head with the fire extinguisher. Wish me luck.” She attempted to creep away, one hand on the brick wall, and he wrenched her back. No way he’d allow her to put herself in danger that way. “Let me go, you jerk! If Frank dies, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Stay here. Please.” She was right. This fit the M.O. of an armed robbery suspect who had been hitting small stores all summer. Recently he’d taken to shooting his victims. The lack of people on the street probably made the asshole think he could get away with the job in the middle of the afternoon.
Greiff drew his weapon and took position next to the door. A mixture of scents hit his nose, and he concentrated on separating them. The older, stale smells had to be filtered out from the newer ones. It took longer than he would have liked; he was out of practice. The ability to pick up trace scents and catalogue them like a bloodhound had been a part of his life for quite a few years. But it didn’t mean he had to like it.
Chloe’s unique fragrance and his own were blended into other, older ones. He looked for the freshest one. He took another deep breath and caught it. Mint, coffee, and apples. That had to be the perp. If the guy got away, he’d be able to track him down later.
He steadied himself and burst through the door with the gun in a classic shooter’s stance. God, he didn’t want to kill this dickwad, but the guy had a firearm leveled at Frank’s head. He had to remove the danger before someone got killed.
“Freeze!”
The gunman turned to him, then back to Frank, who’d taken the opportunity to duck down behind the counter and hide. Smart man.
Greiff advanced two steps, turning his body sideways to create a smaller profile. “Drop the weapon. Now.”
The robber looked from side to side, then raised his gun and pointed it at Greiff. “Fuck you.”
His blood pounded in his ears and he took a deep, steadying breath. The air whistled through his nose—air filled with a unique fragrance that belonged to only one person.
“Damn it, Chloe, get out of here!” He couldn’t take the risk of turning to see where she was.
The gunman backed up a step and cocked his head to the side. “Drop the gun or I’ll shoot. Who else is in here?”
Greiff ignored the question. “Backup is on the way. Drop the weapon.”
A scraping noise behind him called his attention, but he focused on the danger in front of him. The priority now centered on disarming the perpetrator before something happened to Chloe.
And then he’d kick her ass for ignoring him.
The robber retreated more, indecision evident in his faltering stance. He’d probably never had someone try to fight back.
Chloe stepped out of the aisle behind the perp holding a small, kitchen-sized fire extinguisher.
His heart seized in his chest and the deepest rooted panic he’d ever felt took hold. “No, Chloe! Get down!”
The perp turned his head to the right and flailed at the metal canister headed straight for his head. The crack of a gunshot sounded as he fired his nine millimeter pistol. Greiff returned fire, and popped him in the left thigh. The fire extinguisher bashed the gunman in the face as he crumpled from the wound in his leg.
Greiff rushed forward, kicked the fallen firearm to the side, and hugged her, then leaned back to lecture her. His fear turned into anger and exasperation. The sharp copper tang of blood mixed with spent gunpowder in a noxious fragrance. “What the hell are you doing? You could have been killed. I told you to wait outside. I can’t believe you d
id that.”
She flinched and gestured at the man on the ground. “But I wasn’t. I’m fine. You better check him. He’s bleeding.”
Sirens sounded in the distance, growing louder by the second. Frank popped up from behind the counter and rushed around it.
“Chloe, get out of here.” Greiff leaned down and checked the unconscious gunman’s pulse, holstered his weapon, and took the rag Frank held out to compress the gunshot wound. He showed his badge to Frank. “That was so damn dangerous. This wasn’t an unarmed guy after junk jewelry and a few dollars. This was a gunman. Go home. Now.”
Frank picked up the extinguisher and moved it a few feet away.
“Yes, Chloe, you should go. I don’t know where you came from or why you’re naked, but you need to get out of here.” The older man stared at the floor.
Unshed tears shone in her eyes. “But—”
“No. You have to go. Now. Get dressed and go home.” The hurt and confusion on her face struck a pang in his heart and he softened his voice. Being reprimanded hurt, but he couldn’t let her get away with being so reckless with her life. “Chloe, I’ll come by later. You can’t stay here right now.”
She nodded and paced away with measured steps, one hand clamped around her bicep. When she’d passed through a door into a back storeroom, he switched his attention to the man in front of him. Damn, he should be walking her home instead of staying to deal with reports and a gunshot wound. “Frank, you got a security camera in here?”
The other man shook his head. “No, it’s broken. The cameras are just a deterrent. But I guess I better get that fixed. Won’t keep me from getting killed by some punk kid like this though. He came in through the way Chloe just went out. Must have busted the lock off the door.”
Good. Chloe would be safe. Unless someone outside saw her through the glass door. Although, if any of his fellow officers took a statement about a naked woman at the store during a foiled robbery attempt, they’d probably toss the report and chalk it up to a civilian playing games.
The sirens cut off as squad cars and emergency vehicles squealed to a stop outside.
“Hey cop, when did Chloe get here? And why was she naked?”
“She came here with me.” He wasn’t going to get into why she’d been naked.
Frank looked at him over his shoulder and frowned. “I didn’t see her come in. I saw the extinguisher on the floor, and you yelling at her, but that’s all. And I watched everything. She wasn’t there—”
Greiff stood up, the compress on the perp’s leg forgotten. He radioed the arriving squads that everything was clear. “Don’t say it, Frank. You like Chloe, you don’t say anything.”
His partner, Spetrino, yanked the door open and stuck his head in. Frank gave a single tight nod in response and went to stand behind his counter again. Good idea. The store was tiny, and a flood of people began to come inside.
Greiff compartmentalized his worries about Chloe and tried to focus on Spetrino.
“Count on you to take a personal and end up shooting someone.” Spetrino softened the statement with a tight smile.
“Yeah, I’ve got a gift.”
Chapter Eight
Chloe paced her apartment, all thoughts of cheesecake and a stained jacket forgotten. The sea of emergency workers storming the bodega had made it easy to slip out the back door and down the alley to retrieve her clothes.
The hurry had left her with three hours of nothing to do but worry and gnaw on her nails. Frank saw her after Greiff grabbed her and broke her concentration. Damn the man and his ridiculous concern over her. Unless she took a bullet to the brain or heart, a gunshot wouldn’t kill her given a good blood supply and time to heal. Even the knowledge she’d managed to remain concealed despite not being against the wall didn’t excite her. A huge leap in ability the Professor would no doubt force her to demonstrate over and over again.
Greiff didn’t know she could regenerate and heal wounds. He’d have lost his shit if he’d known she’d been hit. The terror in his eyes when he’d hugged her had almost stopped her heart. Then he’d yelled at her.
She poked at the sore skin on her arm and sighed. The laceration where the bullet had grazed her bicep was mostly closed now; only a thin, red welt left behind. Thankfully, it hadn’t bled too much, and she’d been able to hide it with one hand clamped over it on the walk back to her place after getting dressed behind the store.
A low knock sounded on the door and she jumped. She’d just made up her mind to go down the street and find out if the police were still working on the crime scene. Heart in her throat, she crossed the room and put her eye to the peep hole.
Greiff stood outside.
The worry and anxiety over his welfare turned into panic that he was there to take her to jail—or even worse, reject her for being a freak.
“Chloe, I know you’re in there. Right on the other side of the door. I can smell you.” Exhaustion colored the words. She looked again and he’d crumpled against the opposite wall, hands in the pockets of his trousers. His tie was gone and an unlit cigarette hung from his lips.
She popped the deadbolt and yanked the door open. “You are so not smoking that. Give it.”
She held her hand out, palm up, and he dropped the offending item into it.
“You’re too easy. I borrowed that because I figured you’d lose it if you saw it and open your door.” A tired smile quirked the corners of his mouth. He moved across the threshold and stopped a few feet away from her with his back to her. “So, Frank didn’t see you until I grabbed you.”
“I know.” She shut the door with careful control and turned around to find him facing her.
“What happened to your arm?” He wrapped his hand around her wrist and coaxed until she relaxed enough for him examine the healing wound.
The touch sent her heart on overdrive and she tamped the surge of desire that rose from her core.
“I got shot.” She inhaled and held the breath, counted to ten, and exhaled slowly. The mixture of his sweat, cologne, scotch, and even the residual cigarette smoke calmed something inside her—while simultaneously ramping up the yearning surging in her veins.
“They found a bullet buried in the back wall. Totally demolished from drilling through food boxes and the brick. I don’t think they’ll get any blood off it.” Blue eyes met hers, and she watched his pupils dilate. He studied the puckered tissue on her arm once more, tugging at her wrist until she stepped in close enough for their torsos to meld together. She buried her nose in his solar plexus. “You can blend in with things and people can’t see you. And this is healing in only a few hours.”
“Yes.” She reached up to play with the buttons on his shirt, slipping the top one through the hole. “And yes. I can re-grow limbs if I have to. Lost three fingers on my left hand once in a stupid kid accident. You’re the first person who has ever been able to see me. Why do you think that is?”
“I’m color blind. Maybe that has something to do with it.” He placed her hand on his neck, released her wrist, and used both hands to grab her ass in a possessive grip. He shrugged. “I don’t really know. But I’m going to find out.”
Apprehension cooled her lust and she toed the carpet. “Jake, these people are dangerous. If they aren’t aware of you, it’s best to keep it that way.”
“Honey, I’m not the kind of guy who lets things like this go. You mentioned having to leave the city. Frank couldn’t see you even though I could. If someone did something to you or is threatening you, I’m going to find out who they are.” Greiff cocked his head and lowered it until their foreheads touched. “There’s something else I want to worry about now. You’re the first woman I’ve ever seen in color naked.” He nibbled on her throat. “I want to do it again.”
The crawling fear she harbored for him, at the idea he’d go after the Professor diminished under the tingles spreading from the rasp of his facial hair and teeth on her flesh. “Oh…that feels good. But you really shouldn’t go after them.�
��
“Chloe, I have to. It’s who I am.” He buried his hand in her hair and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
A detective. That’s who he was. And if they were going to be together, she had to accept that her detective wouldn’t quit until he got answers that satisfied him. Her detective. Here she was imaging a future and getting possessive. God, she was stupid. But she couldn’t help it. “I’ve just been really worried about you. All day.”
He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled up, and he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m fine sweetheart. But you can do a full body inspection to make sure. If you want.”
“You’re incorrigible. I think I like it.”
He murmured something against her left collar bone and kissed the hollow at the front of her neck. She went on tip-toe. A few more buttons popped free under her nimble fingers. She pulled his shirt out of his pants, slipped her hands underneath the material, and clasped them together behind his back.
He moved to her breasts, and his cock swelled between them. “Damn, Chloe, I don’t understand this. But I don’t want to stop. It’s like my wanting you overrides everything else. Tell me now if I need to get the hell out.”
“No. I don’t want to stop. And I know what you mean. I can hardly think straight when you touch me.” He picked her up off the floor; fingers burrowed into her ass cheeks, and licked his way from the top of one breast to the other.
She gasped. “Bedroom, I have a roommate, remember?”
She linked her hands behind his neck and twined her legs around his waist. The heat of his shaft pulsed through his trousers and straight into the juncture of her thighs. He started walking blindly toward the hallway, all his attention fixed on shoving his tongue under the neckline of her shirt.
Chloe’s head thumped into the wall and she released his neck with one hand to rub the back of her skull. “Ow.”
“Sorry.” He bit the front of her top and snapped it. “Take this off.”
“Watch where you’re going.” She whipped the tank off. “Better?”
Covert Craving Page 5