by Kim Linwood
Payne.
His shirt’s torn, a dark gash running along the side and the smell of smoke and death clings to him. He looks like he’s been beaten to Hell and back, but he’s alive.
I spin around and throw my arms around him, not caring about the blood. I do care about the way he winces when I squeeze. “What’s wrong? Show me!”
He smiles, but it looks thin and strained. “Easy, I’m a little worse for wear but it’s nothing a few days of not getting shot at won’t fix.”
Something occurs to me. Something more important than making sure he isn’t lying about his injuries. “We have to go! This whole place is rigged to explode. Palmieri said—”
“He wouldn’t have rigged it to blow until after he was out of here.” He shrugs. “Probably. But you’re right. I need to make myself scarce.”
“No, we need to get out of here. I’m not letting you leave me now.”
“Nora, look at me.” He puts his hands on either side of my face and looks deep into my eyes. “The FBI just showed up. They’re still sorting through the mess on the other side of the building, but they can’t find me here with you. Palmieri is dead, and from what the other guy said, he was running his own show. You’re safe now, but I’m not.”
He’s right. To me, he’s my hero, but to them he’d be just another bad guy.
We find the door I’d been looking for earlier, and after he gives me the Desert Eagle so the FBI will believe I acted alone in self-defense, I get the chance to show off my newly found lock blasting skills. That’s me, scourge of doorknobs everywhere.
“Go.” I shake off his hands, missing his touch as soon as it’s gone. “It’s my turn to play distraction, okay?”
Payne nods sharply. “Good luck.”
“Payne…”
He pauses.
“You owe me a date. With flowers.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Our lips touch, and my heart feels like it stretches between us, dividing into two. The sound of people comes from the hallway behind us. With a speed that belies how beat up he is, Payne disappears.
I take a deep breath and put on my best “kidnapped by the Mob” face. “In here!” I scream. “Chicago Police Department!”
A group of well-armed figures burst in. I slowly put my gun on the floor and hold my hands in the air.
Hours of questioning later, an agent finally drops me off outside my apartment. They wanted to know everything, and I had to tread carefully the whole time so I didn’t give away Payne’s role in this mess. Even still, I’m not sure they believed me. They tried to get me to spend the night in custody, but I refused, taking a number and promising to call if I think of anything else.
I’m exhausted, and my mind is a pile of mush, but I’m home and safe. Hopefully.
I let myself in, throwing my keys on the counter and dropping to my knees on the floor. For the first time since being pulled out of Payne’s car, I can give in and really let myself break down, but no tears come.
For hours all I’ve wanted was to be left alone, but now that I’m alone, I know that’s not true.
What I really want is Payne.
41
Nora
Pity party over, I haul myself off the floor and go fill a glass with water. The FBI guys were nice enough to get me something to eat and drink during my questioning, but I swear I can still feel that lump of nasty cotton shoved into my mouth.
There’s a crash from the bathroom, and I immediately go into crisis mode. I pull my Taser out of its spot under my kitchen sink. A gun would make me feel better, but my Glock is tucked away safe and sound somewhere in preparation for processing.
It, like me, is on “administrative leave” for now. A condition that might turn permanent depending on how the investigation goes. Thankfully they already had Palmieri under surveillance, so my story lined up pretty well with what they were expecting. I’m just not sure I even want to go back. Not anymore.
Slowly, quietly, I slip into the darkened bedroom. The bathroom door is open, and light filters out into the little dressing area between the two rooms.
There’s a low-pitched, masculine hiss, and I flip off the safety. I round the corner, finger on the trigger and ready to stun the living daylights out of whoever’s in there. “Hands where I can see them!”
Payne’s sitting on the toilet seat, his pants on the floor. His shirt’s off, and while his face looks better than it did the last time I saw him, his skin is streaked with blood, and he’s poking at a particularly ugly gash on his thigh with a needle.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he says drily, wincing before adding another bloody paper towel to the growing stack on the floor.
“Well, if you’d stop breaking in, maybe that would be a good start.” I put the Taser down on the counter and stroke a hand over his back, confirming for myself that he’s really here. “What are you doing to yourself?”
He nods at a small bag of sewing supplies near his feet. “Just making myself pretty for our date.”
“You can’t be serious. Oh my God, Payne. You should be at the ER. Not playing Operation in my bathroom.” I slap his hands away from the cut to get a look for myself. “What have you been doing? This needs stitches.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He sucks in a hissed breath as I poke the wound. “Going to the hospital would raise too many questions. I’ve been lying low and hoping it would close up on its own but it’s not cooperating.”
“Yeah, well, you can hardly expect your injuries to be more cooperative than the man they’re attached to. Give me the needle.”
He leans back and closes his eyes. If it wasn’t for the tension in his muscles, I wouldn’t know how much pain he was in. I fetch a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen and take a sip before handing it over. Payne grins when he sees what I brought, and takes a healthy swig.
I clean up the cut as well as possible with a little soap and water. It’s not down into the muscle, but it’s close. Playing nurse is easy. If it were me sitting here, I’d be bawling my eyes out, not clenching my teeth.
“Do I want to know why your first aid kit includes medical grade needles and thread?” I rub benzocaine gel liberally around the cut, hoping to take the edge off.
“Being a SEAL is a bit like being a badass boy scout.” He relaxes a little as the gel does its work.
“Always prepared, hm?”
He shakes his head. “Nearly always.” His eyes open and he fixes me with his brilliant green gaze. “I wasn’t quite prepared for you.”
My stomach flip flops, and my cheeks turn hot. I look away, focusing on the task at hand. Using tiny stitches, I close up the cut. After the first sickening feel of the needle puncturing his skin, it’s surprisingly not that hard. “If this goes gangrenous and your leg falls off, I’m going to remind you that I wanted you to go to the ER.”
“Yes, ma’am. You do nice work.”
“You can thank a summer volunteering in the hospital, and an obsessive love of disgusting ER reality shows.” I drown the stitches in antibiotic ointment and seal everything off under gauze and a bandage.
“You going to be okay?” I want to reach out and touch him, but he looks like he needs a minute.
“I will be.”
I nod. “I’ll make some coffee. I think we both could use some.” For once I’m actually craving something stronger than tea or hot chocolate. The extra kick would be very welcome.
As I stand in the kitchen, waiting for the brewing to finish, it starts to sink in how messed up my life now is. I have a loaner phone from the FBI that will probably record every word I say, and a hundred dollars cash for spending money. My purse and all of my personal things were either lost in the kidnapping, or tucked away in evidence. Even if I get them back—unlikely—I’m going to need set up something in the meantime.
Payne comes out of the bedroom, walking gingerly and dropping into the couch with a grunt and a wince. He’s cleaned up, but still look
ing pretty rough. “Ow. Fuck. This retirement thing is sounding pretty good.”
“You will, won’t you?” I slide onto the couch next to him, resting my hand on his broad chest and watching it rise and fall with every breath. “That wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing, right?”
He looks at me with a soft smile. “No, I’m out, but what about you?”
“I… I think I’m out too.” Letting my hand slide down just a hair, I make little circles with my fingers, right around his nipple.
“Are you sure about that? This is all you’ve ever wanted.”
He’s right, but he’s wrong at the same time.
“Making a difference is what I’ve wanted.” I’d always assumed that being a police officer was how I would do it, but it hasn’t been like I’d imagined it. At all. “I don’t think I can go back there at any rate, even if they let me, but it’s not all I want. Not anymore.”
“What else do you want?” Payne pulls me into his lap.
I lick my lips and spread my hand over his abs. “Are you going to make me say it?”
“I’d settle for showing.” He shifts in place, but stops with a pained hiss.
Showing, huh? I can do that. “Aw, where does it hurt?”
“Here.” He points at his side, a few inches up from his waist.
Bending down, I plant a soft kiss right on the spot.
“Here.” He points at his pec, just below his arms, right next to his SEAL Team tattoo.
I kiss there too, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin.
“And here.” He touches his lips.
Being careful of his leg, I straddle his lap. I lean in, just barely touching his full lips with a soft kiss. He puts a hand behind my head and pulls me in closer, turning my gentle kiss into something much more passionate. He hardens below me, the thick bulge in his underwear pressing against my sex and quite obvious through the cheap sweatpants the FBI gave me. When he finally lets me up, my lungs are starved for air, and the rest of me is starved for something else.
He takes my wrist in his hand and pulls it down between us. “Definitely here.”
I laugh at his audacity. “Really? Well, it does feel swollen.”
“Oh definitely. Those kisses are magic” He twitches under my hand, through the denim. “I think you should at least have a look. You never know what might pop up.”
“As your nurse, I should probably make sure there isn’t anything more serious going on.”
He eases back into the couch, but his gaze is locked on me as I hook my fingers in the waistband, and tug his boxers down until he pops out.
I lick my lips while I move to the floor, taking his boxers with me. “Wow. That does look uncomfortable. I should relieve the pressure.”
He opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a deep groan as I slide the head of his cock between my hungry lips.
42
Nora
Looking up until our eyes make contact, I swallow his length, my cheeks caving as I suck him in. Payne’s eyes drift shut, and his hips thrust up to meet me as he runs a hand through my hair.
I might be on my knees, but I’m the one in control, and I’m loving it.
It doesn’t take long before he’s thrusting into my mouth. I’m not sure he even knows he’s doing it, but the rhythm mimics the pulse between my legs and I squeeze my thighs together as I pleasure him. His features are slack, a hint of a smile curling the corners of his sexy mouth.
He growls as my fingernails drag softly over his sack, and his girth swells until my jaw aches. “Ease up, or I’ll—”
“Mmhmm,” I hum around his shaft, nodding faintly.
“Oh, fuck…”
His thrusts grow more insistent. In response, I take him as far as I can, sucking hard and swirling my tongue along his crown. He moans as I explore his most sensitive areas. When he comes, I give myself over to him, letting him steer my head and taking everything he has to give.
The bulging muscles in his thighs twitch and jump as I continue, not stopping until he finally pushes me away with a shuddering laugh. “Enough, you’re gonna kill me.”
I lick my lips and sit back on my heels, smiling like the cat who got the cream.
“Come here.” Payne grabs me off the floor and pulls me onto his good leg.
Without hesitation, he kisses me senseless, our tongues battling as he tears off my clothes. When my pants are off, he puts a hand on the outside of my panties and looks me in the eyes, his expression burning with lust.
“What?” I ask shyly, wondering how he can turn me into a melted pile of goo with just a look.
“It’s too late.”
“What’s too late?”
“You’re mine now. I tried to be nice and give you a way out, but I’m not even going to pretend it’s an option anymore. You’re coming with me.”
“I said I would,” I whisper. My arm comes up, covering my naked chest.
“Never hide from me.” He moves my arm away, and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. “I need you.”
“You have me.” I mean it, down to my soul.
The look he gives me goes way beyond sex. He makes as if to pick me up, but I step away. Not with that leg, he isn’t. Instead, I take his hand and pull him with me to the bedroom, before pushing him onto the bed. Already, his cock’s back at half mast, and thickening as I watch.
Was it really only this morning that I was pointing a gun at him in this room? It feels like a lifetime ago. My world’s been turned on its head. The job I thought I wanted almost got me killed, and a killer saved my life.
And stole my heart.
I lie down next to him and smile. He tugs off my panties and moves to between my legs so smoothly you’d hardly believe he’s injured. Grasping my thighs in his powerful hands, he pushes them further apart and leans in.
His tongue slides through my folds until he reaches my clit. Making love to me with his mouth, Payne shows me how real his need is. Electric tingles arc across my skin and race along my nerves, building me up until I’m shaking under his expert touch.
Just when I think I’m going to go over the edge, he pulls away, and kisses his way up my body. I moan in protest, needing him to finish what he started.
When he gets to my mouth, he pauses. “Yeah, you should’ve shot me when you had the chance. It’s way too late now.”
His cock slides home and I come, screaming his name as my nails dig into his back.
For some time that feels like a wonderful forever, I float, seeing colors behind my eyelids as my world shatters into a billion pieces. If I didn’t have him to hold on to, I think I would just float away, but the feel of his hard flesh under my fingertips grounds me until I can slowly let my eyelids slide back open. I find him looking down at me, looking very pleased with himself.
Slowly, I drift back down and when I’ve regained my breath, I grab his hair and look him in the eyes. “There’s always tomorrow, and you still owe me flowers.”
43
Payne
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I slam the gas and leave the sound of sirens far behind us.
Nora points behind us while glaring at me. “They were robbing that guy! What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know… get in the car and tip off the cops?”
I’ve created a five-foot-nothing monster.
“We were right there, and you have to admit, it was kinda fun, right?” She bites her lip and waggles her eyebrows. “Right?”
It’s been four months, and I haven’t taken a contract. Haven’t even looked to see if anyone’s tried to contact me. That part of my life is dead, thanks to the perky vixen in the passenger seat.
Instead we’ve been cruising the country, and I’ve actually been taking pictures for the fun of it, instead of as a cover. Without the discipline of her job, Nora’s turning into an independent hell-raiser for the cause of good.
“A little fun,” I admit reluctantly.
“You put that gu
y through the window.”
“He was getting snotty.”
“My hero.”
Our time on the road is coming to a close. In another week we’re supposed to meet with my old Navy buddy and talk about the potential to work together as legal contractors. Bounties, security, consultations, training. Whatever we’ve got the skillset for. Between my military skills and Nora’s knowledge of law enforcement, it’s not a bad start for a team.
At this point I have enough money in the bank to dabble for the rest of our lives, but Nora and I aren’t exactly the rocking chairs on the porch types.
“So where are we headed today?” she asks, curling her legs up into the seat and popping the cap off the water that was the real reason we stopped at that gas station.
“It’s a surprise.”
I turn up the stereo and let The Boss sing in the true arrival of summer. Nora rolls down her window and puts her arm out, letting the wind catch her hand.
Her phone rings and she wiggles in her seat to get it out of her pocket. “Hello.” A pause. “Yes, Dad, I know. What’s up?”
I suspected he might call, and I trust him not to let on that he knows anything, but I listen anxiously.
Nora turns to me. “Where are we again?”
“Georgia. Closing in on Atlanta.”
“Right.” She speaks at the phone. “Almost in Atlanta. Why? Uh huh. What? No, nothing unusual has happened.”
Apparently getting into a knock-down, drag-out fight at a gas station doesn’t count as unusual. The way she emphasizes the word while glancing at me with a raised eyebrow makes me worry that he’s spilling the beans. Come on, he used to be a police officer. He’s got to be able to keep a secret just a little longer, right?
“No we’re doing fine. We might come by Chi-town in a month or two to visit. It depends a little on what work we find.” Pause. “I know, I’m being careful.”
I almost laugh out loud at that. Again, barring gas station fights. And that bar brawl in St. Louis, but that hardly counts. That wasn’t even really our fault. I roll my eyes. We’re like fucking Bonnie and Clyde, but for the power of righteousness. At least as long as I’ve got Adorable at my side.