by Kylie Brant
Because she'd spent most of her life being strong, she'd never realized how wondrous it could be to feel protected. And since she hadn't ever let herself need anyone, she'd failed to discover the sensual pleasure of leaning on a man. Even if it was just for a moment.
When she would have put a sliver of distance between them, he pressed her closer, his hand firm against the small of her back. With his other hand he reached out and opened the French doors, then moved them both onto the balcony without missing a beat.
She smiled at the practiced move, but her voice was more breathless than she would have liked when she said, "You've done this before."
"Not with you," he murmured, and the intensity of his gaze had the smile fading from her lips. The night sky was clear, but the fall air was chilly. He pulled her closer, sharing his heat.
Of their own volition, her fingers went to his shirt, tugging it from his waistband and unbuttoning it. Once it was open, she slid her hands inside. The flesh on his sides was smooth, the muscle beneath firm. Shae brushed her lips against his chest, skating her hands over his back. Being this close to him was its own seduction. She remembered too well the pleasure of exploring his body. Sleek taut skin stretched over plane and sinew. He was still too lean, but there was no missing the muscles roping his arms, padding his chest. And there was no denying that she wanted to discover them all over again.
She pressed her lips to his chest, strewing a trail of kisses from one masculine nipple to the other. His hands slipped down to cup her bottom, bringing her hips into contact with his every time they moved. He was already aroused, and the rhythmic brushing of their bodies had a hot ball of desire lodging in the pit of her belly.
He took her earlobe in his teeth and worried it gently while she traced his collarbone with the tip of her tongue. And then because she needed the taste of him, craved it, she went on tiptoe to open her mouth on his.
His flavor was distinctive, staggering, each time a shock to the senses. She met his tongue with her own and engaged in a short sensual battle before giving a little sigh and leaning into the kiss. Trailing her fingers down his chest, she found the silky ribbon of hair that descended into his jeans and lower. When she stroked it lightly she could feel the muscles in his belly jump. The evidence of his excitement brought a heady kind of thrill.
A dizzying spiral of heat swirled through her, turning her boneless. She couldn't have stood without support. His mouth was hungry against hers, a hint of desperation in his hands as they unfastened the buttons on her shirt, then splayed against her skin.
The pleasure of that first touch, fingers skating over flesh, sent her senses reeling. He unfastened her bra, covering her breasts with his palms, and the contact had her back arching. Her nipples were tight, achy. He cupped them in his palms, flicking his thumbs over the sensitized tips, before bending to take one in his mouth.
He wasn't gentle. She didn't want him to be. She held his head closer, wanting to deepen the pressure. The hot wet suction contrasted sharply with the chilly air. His tongue was working dark magic on her system, pressing her nipple against the roof of his mouth and lashing it with quick liquid strokes. Desire fired a path from her breasts to her womb.
She wasn't aware of moving until she felt the door at her back. Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to focus, disoriented. Cade lifted his head only long enough to guide her through the French doors and kick them shut with his foot. Then urgency took over.
They sank to the floor, hands battling with clothing, limbs tangling in it as their mouths melded. Somehow clothes were discarded, along with their rapidly dwindling control. Shae stretched out on top of him, breasts crushed against his chest, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. With a sudden dizzying movement he rolled them so they lay on their sides facing each other, his knee between both of hers.
Reaching down, she cupped his heavy masculinity, stroked his heated velvet length. The need to have him buried within her was a constant throbbing ache, one impossible to deny.
The position of his leg held her open, and he worked a finger inside her as his mouth went to her ear. Her throat. Her breast. Sensations careered through her system, one slapping against the other until they couldn't be individually identified.
"Now." The word was delivered on a moan that sounded too much like a plea. "Now, Cade."
He fumbled for his jeans, withdrew a condom, while she kneaded his thighs, his hard masculine buns. The curse he muttered when the package proved difficult to open sounded desperate. The tremors in his hands as he sheathed himself spoke of dark and reckless needs.
She gave neither of them time to consider. When his arms went around her, she pressed him back and sat astride him. His eyes glittered as he watched her, allowing her to take control of their lovemaking. She positioned his shaft at the opening of her femininity and took him in, one fraction at a time.
That first bolt of pleasure had her head lolling, lungs growing strangled. One hard thrust would end things for both of them. She didn't want to end it. Not yet. She kept her movements shallow, sliding teasingly before lifting away, denying them both the ultimate contact.
Cade's face was sheened with sweat. His fingers clutched her hips as he endured the torment for long moments. She thought she heard him say something. It was difficult to know. There was a rushing in her ears, her eyes couldn't focus as need battered at her, demanding release.
She sank down on him, sheathing him deeply with a suddenness that had them both gasping. And then it was a battle to move the fastest, to rock the hardest, each reckless lunge spinning her closer and closer to release.
His hands came up to cover her breasts, and the dual pleasure catapulted her from driving urgency to a shuddering crest. His hips kept hammering upward, pounding him into her with uncontrolled passion. And when he climaxed beneath her, his big body jerking in helpless pleasure, they drifted back to earth in each other's arms.
It was difficult to move through an unfamiliar apartment in the dark. Especially when Shae was so desperate for quiet. The clock on the bedside table had highlighted the early hour. The panic in her heart had warned it was much too late.
Cade slept, his arm flung out in the huge four-poster bed for a woman who wouldn't be there. Nasty little needles of guilt stabbed her, and despite long practice she wasn't quite able to assuage them. She'd told him last night, she rationalized, finding her shoes only by tripping over them, her socks by happenstance. Sometime between the smoke alarm and gorging themselves on wine and blackened pizza, she'd told him she'd have to go. Offered to get a cab.
Bra and shirt had landed together, making that search a bit easier. Haste made her movements clumsy. Her fingers couldn't seem to work the buttons. She'd allowed herself to be convinced to stay longer. And staying had meant making love again. A second and third time. By the final act they'd made it to the bed, and afterward she'd even dozed a bit.
And awoke, frantic that he was gone. Even more panicked that he was there.
She couldn't let him matter this much. Wouldn't let him. The trick to shielding a heart, she'd found, was distance. The cab she'd called would provide that, physically at least. Emotionally was another matter.
The kitchen light snapped on, and she froze. Cade stood surveying her, hair rumpled from sleep and from her hands. His jeans were unfastened, showing a wedge of hair-roughened skin, as if he'd donned them hastily. And his face… Her stomach plummeted. There was hurt lurking beneath the anger. But neither emotion sounded in his voice.
"I take it you're leaving."
Shae moistened her lips. "I … I called a cab. I didn't want to disturb your sleep."
"You sure do have a time waking me." It wasn't an agreement. Not delivered in that sardonic tone. And he was making this harder than it needed to be.
"I just don't sleep well with someone else in the room." She shrugged, as if it was perfectly natural.
"Is that what you tell yourself? That it's about sleep? In that case, let's go back to bed. We won't sleep at all
. Stay the night."
"I can't."
His eyes were dark with emotions she was afraid to consider. "You choose not to. I recognize the difference even if you don't."
Because her lips threatened to tremble, she firmed them. "It's only sleeping arrangements, for heaven's sake."
"No, it's about intimacy." He rounded the couch and propped his hips against the edge, folded his arms across his chest. "It's about you running from it, refusing to accept it. Refusing to give it."
His statement arrowed a little too close to the truth. "This doesn't have to matter." She was shocked at how desperate she was for that to be true. "Don't let it matter."
"I can't do casual, not with you, Shae. I'm an all-or-nothing kind of guy. You can't pick and choose what you'll accept, what you'll give and what you won't."
His words brought a quick surge of stunned pleasure. Had she ever mattered so much … to anyone? But then panic crowded in, the strength of it nearly choking her. She had avoided emotional entanglements for just this reason. Inevitably someone expected too much. Wanted too much. Something she doubted was inside her to offer.
A horn sounded outside the apartment. Her cab. She grabbed her coat, her purse, holding them tightly to her chest. "It doesn't have to be so scary, taking that first step." His words were dark magic, and they were weaving a spell on her. She urgently wanted to believe them. Was terrified that she would.
He unfolded his arms to hold his hand out. The horn sounded again. "If you don't stop running now, when will you? Make the decision, Shae. Choose now."
She stared at him, eyes burning with unshed tears. He didn't know how tempting it was to take what he was offering. Or how disappointed he would be when he found how little he received in return.
She made the only choice she could. The only one there was for her. Turning, she walked across the apartment and out the door.
"This changes everything," Cade insisted, arms braced on the lieutenant's desk. The man had been in meetings until afternoon, and it was the first chance he'd had to speak to him privately. "What are we going to do about it?"
Brian's notes were spread across the desktop. Frowning, Howard studied first one page, then another. "If this is true, the department's in for a firestorm. The politics will take years to die down."
"The problem is who to trust. Do we take it to I.A., the task force, federal?"
Howard rubbed his face, looking suddenly old. "Luckily that's not my decision. I take it to the superintendent and he'll decide from there." He shook his head, an expression of intense sadness in his expression. "I gotta tell you, I'm hoping it's not true. That Brian was murdered by cops and you nearly were." He dropped his hand from his jaw, looked at Cade. "Why didn't he share any of this with you?"
That question, and others, had been haunting Cade since he'd found the papers. Would it have changed anything if he had? Would Brian still be alive? Would they both be dead? He shook his head. "I don't know. I'm guessing that that was what the meeting was supposed to be about in City Park. Maybe he wanted me to hear the information from Freddie and get my take on it. But either Freddie was playing him all along or someone else got to him and flipped him, set up the double cross."
Howard picked up the sheets of paper one by one, his movements methodical as he folded them and put them back in the envelope. "I'll take care of these. Do you need to take some time?" His gaze was piercing. "You've been through a lot lately."
For a moment the scene with Shae came hurtling back with startling clarity. The gut-wrenching agony of seeing her turn away from him. Walk out that door. "I'm okay." The words were as much to convince himself as his superior. "And I've got a case to work."
The man gave him a nod. "Okay, then. A match came in today on that partial plate and one of the contacts in LeFrenz's book. He's been questioned once, but now that we've got a maybe on his car, why don't you and Birtch go grab him up again?"
Cade nodded, a flicker of relief filling him that the lieutenant hadn't pushed harder for him to take some time off. Because right now he needed the job to buffer thoughts of Shae, to keep the mingled fury and pain at bay. Work had been enough for him once, it would be again.
It had to be.
"I'm telling you, guys, that car was stolen." Hank Logan's rodentlike features were twisted into an expression that was supposed to pass for innocence.
Cade shook his head in disgust, looked at Birtch. "I'm not in the mood for this. Are you?"
"I'm never in the mood to get jerked around," Josh said. "Especially by a lowlife punk who's already lied to detectives in this squad about knowing LeFrenz."
"Hey, some cops come to the door and want to know do I know a drug dealer they're looking for—what am I gonna say?" He spread his hands. "So, okay, I used to like to snort a little, which I don't anymore and haven't for a long time. And maybe I did business with LeFrenz a time or two. But I've been clean for a year and I got drug tests at work to prove it."
"Well, I'm glad to find out you finally found a test you could pass," Cade told him. "Probably made your mother real proud. But we're not gonna believe you didn't report the car stolen." When the man opened his mouth, Cade slapped his palm against the table. "Don't bother lying anymore. You're just going to piss me off, and my fuse is already short. We pulled your sheet. You did time in lockup just eight months ago and nearly got yourself killed there. You wanna go back?" The guards had barely gotten the cell unlocked in time to pull Hank's huge cell mate off him. Cade shot a look at Josh. "We could probably go grab up Marcus, couldn't we?" Just the mention of the man who'd had the choke hold on him had Hank blanching.
Josh nodded, going along with the ploy, and checked his watch. "He's just getting home this time of night. Got a job bouncing at a strip joint. I hear he gets real surly when he's short on sleep."
"Knowing Marcus, he'll have drugs on him, too, which would be a violation of his parole." Cade heaved a sigh, pretending not to notice that Hank had sunk lower in his chair. "Now if I have to go clear over there, grab him up, do the paperwork on it, I'm gonna be feeling a little mean myself."
"Mean enough -to make sure you guys are bunk buddies in lockup again," Josh said, his face close to Hank's. "Hope the guards on duty are as quick as they were last time."
"That guy's crazy," Hank whined. "Said he'd kill me if he saw me again."
Cade shrugged. "So what's it gonna be, Hank? It's your call."
The man clutched the table with his fingers until his knuckles went white. "Listen, I hadn't seen LeFrenz for a while, you know? So when he shows up at my house in the middle of the night, it's like, what the hell?"
"We don't need your every thought, Hank, just the facts," Josh said. "He asked to use your car."
"I told him no way, I need it to get to work. And if I miss work once more, my boss is gonna fire me, and then my parole officer will be all over me." Cade rolled his eyes. Clearly there was no hurrying this guy. "But finally I say yeah, okay, here's the keys. 'Cause he promised he'd bring it right back, but he didn't. So now I want to report it stolen." He looked at Josh. "Is it too late to do that?"
"Those aren't the details we're looking for, Hank." Cade folded his arms. "That's just the sort of runaround crap that's going to make me think throwing you in a cell with Marcus is exactly what you deserve."
The man licked his lips. "He was talking big, you know? Like he'd landed on the gravy train. And then he said that when he brought the car back, he'd take me over to his new place. Got a place in one of them developments, over by the lake? It's got a pool and everything, heated, inside the house. Real fancy. But he said he was laying low for a while, so don't worry if I don't hear from him right away.
"He was lying, right?" Hank looked first at Josh, then at Cade. "I figured a little rat like him couldn't have gotten that high in the network so fast like he said. But he claims that sh—stuff is going down and he's gonna be one of the top dogs when it's all over."
"Did he mention any names?" The punk's brow furrowed an
d Cade elucidated. "Did he say who he was working with? How he was connected?"
Hank shook his head. "No. Just said he was in a sweet deal with guys at the top that no one could ever take down. I shoulda known he was just blowin' smoke. I mean, who could he work with that the cops couldn't touch?"
"You've got a visitor, Shae."
Shae looked up at Boyd DuBois's announcement, a tiny bubble of hope bouncing through her veins. "Who is it?"
"Guy says he's your dad. Looks enough like you I guess it's true."
Hope died, reminding her, once again, just how dangerous it was to harbor it. She hadn't expected Cade to show up here, anyway. After last night, it had been only too apparent that any further dealings she'd have with the man would be professional.
It was for the best. She thought it and tried to believe it. He pushed too hard, asked too much. She'd always known that it was dangerous to let someone else close enough to tempt her to want more. And Cade Tremaine was all about temptation.
"The guy's a real card."
Boyd's laughing remark jerked her attention back to him.
"Your dad. He's in the staff lounge waiting for you. Cracking jokes, doing card tricks I never could figure out."
She gave a sigh. "How much did he take you for?"
The intern looked startled, then sheepish. "Twenty. Would have been more, but I left my wallet at home."
A wise decision when Ryan McCabe O'Riley was around. Straightening her shoulders, Shae strode resolutely down the hall to extricate her father from her place of work. And hopefully from her life once and for all.
She shoved open the door of the staff lounge, and was met with the sight of her father sitting at the table, surrounded by four hospital employees. Ryan had some plastic-foam coffee cups lined up before him as a slick patter spilled from his lips. "You can do it. Just watch closely. Where'd your money go? Which one is it under?" She watched his sleight of hand with a world-weary cynicism. He hadn't been able to pull that one on her since she was six.