Arrest (A Disarm Novel)

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Arrest (A Disarm Novel) Page 1

by June Gray




  Titles by June Gray

  DISARM

  ARREST

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  USA • Canada • UK • Ireland • Australia • New Zealand • India • South Africa • China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  Copyright © 2014 by June Gray.

  Excerpt from Surrender by June Gray copyright © 2014 by June Gray.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  BERKLEY® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-14185-8

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Gray, June, 1979–

  Arrest / June Gray.—Berkley trade paperback edition.

  pages cm—(A Disarm novel)

  ISBN 978-0-425-27213-8 (paperback)

  1. Newlyweds—Fiction. 2. Police officers—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3607.R39515A93 2014

  813’.6—dc23 2014006150

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley trade paperback edition / June 2014

  Cover photo by Photoalto Photography/Veer.

  Cover design by Lesley Worrell.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Version_1

  To the A-Team:

  Amelia, Abigail, and Aarilyn.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  When I first started writing this book, I knew very little about law enforcement officers. They were just the stereotypical cops to me—doughnut-eating, coffee-guzzling, ticket-writing guys in uniform. But the more I dug into their lives, the more I came to understand and appreciate what it means to lay your life on the line day after day in order to keep the peace. More than that I came to empathize with LEO spouses, who are not all that different from military spouses. We all say a silent prayer in our heart every day to keep our spouses safe.

  To my husband, Mark: I couldn’t have written this book without your help and patience. Thank you for taking care of the girls while I’m locked away writing, and for putting up with me when I’m stuck in my head and can’t carry on a conversation. I love you.

  A big thank-you to my mom, Daisy, who came out to stay with us for a month and helped us unpack an entire house and watched the girls while I chased a looming deadline.

  Thank you to my sister Liza, for reading my awful first drafts and yelling at me to finish the story; and to my sister Jeline, for being a kick-ass assistant.

  To my beta readers, who have been with me from the beginning of this crazy journey: Beth, Lara, Shannon, Kerry, Gillian, and Margo. Thank you once again, ladies!

  To Dyann: I’m sorry I forgot to mention you last time! Thank you for your help with Disarm, especially with information on deployments.

  I’m so grateful to fan-turned-friend Victoria and her LEO husband for the valuable insight into the lives of law enforcement officers and their families. You have both been so accommodating and helpful, and any inaccuracies or errors are all my doing.

  Thank you to Cindy Hwang at Berkley, for your enthusiasm and belief in me. To Kim Whalen at Trident Media Group: thank you for having my back! To Tara and Kristine: thanks for always answering my questions, no matter how inane.

  Finally, I’d like to express my gratitude to you, the reader. None of this would have happened were it not for your love of books. Thank you for following me on this crazy journey.

  For more information on me and my books, visit my blog at authorjunegray.com.

  CONTENTS

  TITLES BY JUNE GRAY

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  PART ONE: ARREST

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  PART TWO: ASSAULT

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  PART THREE: ESCAPE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  PART FOUR: POSSESS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  PART FIVE: DEFEND

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  PART SIX: REVERSE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  PREVIEW OF SURRENDER

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PART ONE

  ARREST

  PROLOGUE

  I ran my hands through soft waves of dark hair, the ends of which curled around my fingers. I looked up and into the blue eyes of the shirtless man staring at me through the wall mirror. “Are you sure it needs to be buzzed off completely?” I asked, disappointed that I’d once again have to cut off the very thing that had brought us together.

  “Yes. Academy standards.”

  Call me sentimental but I loved Henry’s hair, which was black and had grown long over the past months. For several years I’d only seen him with it cropped short, and it was only after he separated from the military that I was able to watch it grow again. Inch by inch, it felt as if the old Henry came back with each wavy strand, not only through appearance but also in attitude. The spark of mischief came back into his eyes, his smiles seemed wider, his laughter deeper.

  I loved this unruly dark mess because it represented him as a teenage boy. It was a constant reminder that we had loved each other for nearly forever.

  And now I had to cut it off. Again.

  “Els?” Henry said, craning his head around to look up at me. “It’s just hair.”

  “It’s not just hair,” I said, running my fingers through his dark locks again. “Once you start the police academy, then that’s it. You’ll never be able to wear it long again.”

  “I can when I retire.”

  “By then you’ll be old and wrinkly and you won’t look sexy with it anymore,” I said, only half teasing.

  He spun around in the computer chair and grabbed me by the waist. “You think I’m sexy?” he asked with a cocky gr
in.

  “Always.” I held his face in my hands, finding it hard to imagine his olive skin lined with age. It occurred to me then that I had the rest of my life to witness the transformation, and the thought filled me with joy.

  “Okay, old man,” I said, spinning him back around and reaching for the clippers. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  I took the first swipe in the center of his head, going all the way to the back. I grinned at him in the mirror, pausing long enough to chuckle at his odd appearance, then went back to the task with more care.

  As his dark hair fell quietly away, I thought of Henry’s words in his therapy tapes, when he’d talked about the first time I cut his hair back in high school.

  That was when I knew I was a goner. This girl in front of me was going to be my happily ever after.

  I bet when he made that revelation he never would have imagined he would somehow find himself in nearly the exact same place many years later, with our happily ever after no longer a whispered wish but a reality.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Henry said in a soft, raspy voice, drawing me away from my thoughts.

  I looked up and studied my reflection, my curly brown hair, hazel eyes, and light skin that Henry had once likened to milk. I’d always considered myself somewhat average in the looks department, but nobody else made me feel gorgeous with just one look. Nobody but Henry.

  I met his eyes through the mirror, and for one brief moment, I saw that kid again, the one who wore braces, who stole trinkets from people’s houses, who went home night after night to an empty house. Who could have guessed that kid would grow up to be this noble, honest, caring man?

  “I think you’re good to go.” I rubbed his bristly head, brushing hair off his bare shoulders.

  Quick as lightning, his hand shot out and captured one of mine. He brought my palm to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against my skin. Then he stood up and turned to face me, standing so close my breath ruffled the hair on his chest. “This is what I should have done back then,” he said and kissed me like we were just two kids in love, without a clue what the future held. “This time last year, I was in Korea, thinking I’d lost you for good. And now I’m here with you, building a life together,” he said. “I could ask for nothing more.”

  “I’d say we got pretty lucky.”

  He shook his head with a tender smile. “Luck has nothing to do with it,” he said. “We’re just two willful people who moved mountains to be together.”

  As he held my face in his large, capable hands, I wanted nothing more than to freeze that moment and preserve the memory, knowing that we were about to embark on an adventure that would change us both in ways we’d never imagined.

  1

  Several months later . . .

  “Honey, I’m home.” I unloaded my purse and laptop bag on the floor as soon as I shut the front door. When I didn’t hear a reply, I kicked off my shoes and carried them through the living room and to the kitchen. Still no sign of Henry. “Hello?”

  “I’m up here.”

  I eyed the cold pasta salad on the counter wistfully, my stomach reminding me that it was past eight o’clock and I hadn’t eaten dinner yet. I grabbed a fork and took a few mouthfuls, chewing quickly before heading upstairs.

  I found Henry in our master bathroom, folding a box and stuffing it into the small trash can. “Hey,” he said planting a kiss on my mouth. He pulled away, licking his lips. “You taste like Italian dressing.”

  I looked around the bathroom, trying to figure out what he had changed now. We had lucked out in finding an older two-story home on the southeast side of Cherry Creek that had been priced way below market value. Since closing in August, we had been slowly trying to update the outdated interior. But with Henry’s long days at the police academy and my hectic hours at work, we hadn’t been able to do much at all. We were nearing Thanksgiving and all we’d accomplished was replacing the dingy carpet, painting the trim white, and changing the color of the walls.

  Too tired to keep playing sleuth, I finally asked, “Okay, what did you do?”

  “Here, let me show you.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head then reached out and started to undo the pearl buttons on my teal shirt.

  God, even nearly bald, Henry possessed a stark beauty that never failed to strike me. Even at this time of night, when I was so tired I could barely stand, the very nearness of him sent ripples of arousal across my skin. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” he asked, reaching behind me and unclasping my bra.

  “Wake up at six in the morning and still manage to be so perfect by the end of the day?”

  His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs flicking at my nipples, then slipped down to tug my skirt and panties. “I skipped the gym and took a nap.”

  Well, that answered that. I bet I’d look gorgeous too if I’d had some beauty sleep.

  “Then I went out and got something for you.” His eyes glittered as he pulled the gray shower curtain aside and motioned to the new chrome fixture with two showerheads, one of which was on a handle. “You’ve been complaining about the old one for the longest time.”

  I stepped in the tub and turned on the water, nearly squealing with delight when the stream was strong and straight. Henry undressed and stepped in behind me and reached for the handheld fixture. He twisted the control valve and then held the pulsating stream of water against my shoulder. “Oh, that feels good,” I said, bowing my head and closing my eyes. When he kneaded my other shoulder I nearly melted.

  “So how was your day?” he asked, continuing the water massage.

  “Not great,” I said. “My computer froze, so I had to restart, but then I got the spinning ball of doom. I had to work on the old iMac for the rest of the day, which is an exercise in frustration.”

  “I hope you didn’t lose any work.”

  “No. Thankfully everything’s saved on the servers. It was just a little stressful since we’re still working on that Go Big campaign.” Go Big Sports was Shake Design’s largest client to date and a lot of resources and man power were being utilized to make sure the company was happy. We were in the middle of a complete brand overhaul as well as a new webstore design. The entire project was already a daunting and exhausting task, but as head of the team, I was under extra pressure to perform. The death of a computer was not a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, but it was added strain to an already stressful day.

  Henry pressed a soft kiss to my neck, pulling me away from thoughts of work. “Hey, come back. No more thinking about work for the rest of the night,” he murmured.

  “Easier said than done,” I said and was about to launch into the next day’s long to-do list when water was suddenly pelting me on my stomach, due south.

  “Open up,” he said, nudging my legs apart with his foot. He brought a palm to my back and bent me over, exposing my backside as I planted my hands on the wall. “I’m going to make you forget about everything for the next half hour.”

  “Half hour? We’ll run out of hot water long before—Oh!”

  He changed the spray to a stronger, more concentrated stream and aimed it directly onto my clit.

  “I love this showerhead,” I said between moans.

  “Me too.” The water disappeared and was replaced by the wholly different sensation of his tongue sliding between my folds.

  I peeked between my legs and saw him palming his erection as he lapped at me, sending an energizing jolt of desire through my core. “I want you.”

  He stood up and loomed over me. “You want me where?” he asked, pumping his length along the crevice of my ass.

  I reached back and wrapped my fingers around him, guiding him to my entrance. “In here, filling me up.”

  “Slow or rough?”

  I sat back against his hip and sighed as the head of his cock penetrated my cleft. “Rough. Hard.” />
  He gripped me around the chest and with one swift thrust was completely inside me. “Like this?” he rasped against my ear, sliding out and driving home again, causing me to lurch forward from the force.

  “Hell yes.”

  He obliged, kissing along my neck and nipping my skin with his teeth as he continued the assault. He kept murmuring sweet and nasty things as he pummeled me, the noisy slapping of skin intermingling with the sound of running water.

  I closed my eyes and surrendered, content to give Henry full control of my pleasure. The man did not steer me wrong; he knew all the right ways to touch me so that I was racing toward orgasm, my muscles coiling, grasping for a tighter hold. When he held the strong stream of water against my clit once again, I broke apart. “Henry,” I hissed as my inner walls convulsed around his shaft.

  “Here,” he ordered, pressing the showerhead into my hand. With both hands free, he gripped my hips and drove into me faster.

  I flicked the water setting to a softer stream and pointed it between my legs and directly onto his balls. He made a pained noise, but when I pulled it away, he growled, “Keep it there. Keep it there. Don’t stop. Fuuuuck . . .” His hips bucked wildly as he climaxed, thrusting into me one last time.

  I could feel his heartbeat thudding on my back as he gasped against my ear. It took him several long seconds but when he recovered, he pulled out and reached for the shampoo bottle.

  My scalp tingled as his fingers massaged the shampoo through my hair, turning all the bones in my body to jelly. I leaned my head into his firm but gentle touch and sighed with pleasure.

  Then he soaped up the loofah and washed my entire body, spending a long time washing between my legs. I noticed his mind was no longer on cleansing when his fingers probed me, sliding inside and finding that sensitive nub.

  “I can’t . . . I have no energy to come again.”

  “I’m just making sure you’re completely clean,” he said, his fingers rubbing and kneading. He brought his mouth down to mine and kissed me, his tongue bringing me back to life.

 

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