“He’s good, I guess. The same really. When’s the last time you saw him?”
“Not for a while.”
Not for four years if Jason had to guess. “Does he know what you’re up to these days?” Translation, does he know you haven’t left your house in four years?
Preston shrugged and swiveled his chair back toward his desk. “Don’t know. Like I said, it’s been a while.” He put his glasses back on and—with a lack of social graces that was signature Preston—started typing at his computer again.
“Preston, you ever think about going to talk to someone again?”
Still typing, he answered in a monotone voice. “I talk to people all the time. My editor called just today to hound me about this book.”
“You know what I mean. Like a therapist.”
“I don’t need therapy. I’m a writer. This is a lifestyle choice. It works for me.”
“Is it working for you?” Because he couldn’t resist provoking Preston, and because he wanted to say something that would get him to stop clacking away at that damn keyboard, he added, “When’s the last time you got laid?”
In a completely unsatisfying response, Preston continued pecking. “Women are a complication I don’t need. Besides, getting laid doesn’t making you a functioning adult.”
He ignored the possibility that Preston might be implying Jason was not a functioning adult. Instead, he puzzled over how the hell Preston could type and talk at the same time. He leaned to the side, trying to see over Preston’s shoulder. Maybe it was all just random letters on the screen. But no, it appeared his savant friend could actually type and talk at the same time.
“All right, man. I gotta get some shut-eye. Victoria’s still sleeping. Do you mind if I crash in your guest bedroom and we leave in the morning?”
“Yeah, no problem. Just don’t touch my toothbrush and shit. Use the basket of soaps and stuff that’s for guests under the cabinet.”
“Roger that.” He saluted Preston’s back and started for the guest bedroom.
“Oh, and Jason?”
“Yeah?” He turned back to find Preston had stopped typing his precious story and swiveled his chair back around.
“I like Victoria.”
“Yeah, man. I like her too.”
“I think she’s good for you.”
“We’re just hanging out—”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Act like it’s nothing. You’ve never brought a woman here before.”
“Well, she didn’t really give me a choice—”
“Don’t kid yourself. No one has ever made you do a damn thing you didn’t want to do. You brought her here. You let her into this part of your fucked up life—”
“Your fucked up life.”
“My fucked up isn’t fucked up. It’s a choice to live outside societal norms. Your fucked up is an inability to stretch a relationship past the four-month mark.” He took off his glasses again, and in a rare moment of true eye contact, leveled his gaze with Jason’s. “My point is, don’t mess around with her. She’s already half in love with you.”
“That’s—” Words stuck in his throat and he swallowed. “That’s not true, and even if it was, how could you know that?”
“I’m observant, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” But Preston had this one wrong. Victoria couldn’t possibly have feelings that ran that deep. They’d only known each other for a couple of months and had only really spent a significant amount of time together in the last couple days. Maybe Victoria had a crush on him, but she wasn’t in love with him. She just couldn’t be.
“It’s not what you think it is, Preston.”
Preston turned back to his computer, but as Jason walked out of the office, he caught his friend’s mumbled response. “No, my friend, it’s not what you think it is.”
*
In the shower, Jason let the hot water beat down on his shoulders. Forearm against the tile, he rested his head on his arm, surprised that he didn’t just fall asleep standing up. But, as exhausted as he was, sleep would be elusive. He had too much on his mind.
The hot spray did little to ease the tension coiled in his shoulders and neck. When McCann had offered him this position, he’d been pissed. He’d wanted to be on vice. He’d wanted to take drugs and prostitution off the streets. Two things that left a huge number of victims in their wake. Young women in desperate situations. Kids whose parents were strung out. Teens who were addicted themselves.
He hadn’t seen arson investigation as important enough.
But here he was. Tasked with the protection of first responders all over town. If he didn’t figure this shit out before September twenty-seventh, their lives would be in danger. Victoria’s life would be in danger. She’d already been too close to one blast. What would happen next time?
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to exhale his growing anxiety.
The door creaked open.
“Hey, man. You gotta take a piss?”
“Uh, no…”
Hearing not Preston’s voice but Victoria’s, he lifted his head from his arm.
Looking over his shoulder and through the blurred glass door of the shower, he watched as a blob of periwinkle blue slid to the floor, followed by a swath of white, leaving nothing but a blurry nude female figure.
Instantly awake and running on all cylinders, Jason’s cock throbbed to life. Possessiveness for the woman he’d just been thinking about rushed through his body, making him ache to pull her into the shower and bury himself inside her.
“Care for some company?” she asked, her voice still husky with sleep.
“Absolutely.” He slid the glass door open, heart hammering in his chest. This was exactly what he wanted, and yet, confusion made him slow to act on his impulses. Was this the same woman who’d avoided eye contact and put a cutting board, a knife, and a kitchen island between them after their last kiss?
Her brown eyes met his and she smiled shyly. Hundreds of words zipped through his brain. Thanks for what you did for Preston. You’re the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. God, you’re beautiful. He said none of them. Instead, he pulled her into the spray with him and locked his lips to hers.
“Mmm,” he murmured. “You taste like coffee.”
“Espresso,” she said breathlessly, their mouths still tangling. “From the tiramisu I had delivered.”
“Delicious.” Delicious. Like the feel of her wet skin against his, or her small tits pressed against his chest. Nothing could be more perfect.
He deepened the kiss, desperate to taste more of her, to feel the heat of her tongue with his. She moaned and tilted her head, giving him easier access.
Don’t mess around with her. She’s already half in love with you. Preston’s words echoed in his head, making him slow the frantic pace of their kiss. He nibbled at her lower lip and then stopped. “Are you sure this is okay?”
She laughed low in her throat, her arms still twined around his neck. “I’m the one who accosted you in the shower, not the other way around.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I mean, this whole thing.” He squeezed her waist gently. “You’re okay with this…us…what we’re doing?”
The amused smile left her face and her brown eyes regarded him seriously. “You mean, am I okay with a no-strings fling?”
“Exactly.”
She pressed herself more fully against him. “Yes, I am.” She kissed his lips lightly. “I’m okay with your rules.”
“Our rules.” She’d helped come up with half of them after all.
“Right.” She smiled and playfully bit his lower lip, making him groan. “I’m okay with our rules.” She darted her tongue out to lick at the corner of his mouth, the light pressure teasing him and making his blood pump faster. “I’m okay with living in the now.” Gently, she sucked his lower lip. “I’m okay with enjoying each other’s bodies.” Rising up on her tiptoes, she put her lip
s up to his ear and whispered, “Make me feel good, Jason. Please.”
Growling, he turned them around and pinned her to the wall, claiming her mouth with his own. She’d teased him with her kisses, and now he couldn’t hold back. He lifted her off the ground, holding her up by pressing her against the wall, and she wrapped her legs around him.
Nestling himself between her legs, he cursed. “No condom.”
She groaned her disappointment, flexing her hips and skimming her already wet pussy against his cock.
“Fuck.” He clenched his teeth and beat his forehead once against the tile over her shoulder. “That feels good.”
She kissed his neck and, squeezing her thighs, moved herself up and down his body. The dance continued, simulating an act he desperately wanted to indulge in, condom or no condom.
“Stop.” He held her hips still. “Stop. You can’t or I’m going to bury myself inside you.” He leaned away from the wall and she slid down his body, her feet returning to the ground. He kissed her lips then pulled back, wanting to taste more of her skin, her body, but she moaned in protest and pulled him back down to her lips.
“Mmm.” Speaking against her mouth, he reassured her. “I’m not leaving you, Toria. Just let me taste more of you.”
Reluctantly, she loosened her hold on his head enough that he could kiss her neck. He continued south to lavish attention on her nipples, loving the way her breath caught and she arched, pushing her small perfect tits into his mouth.
Continuing his descent down her body, he knelt in front of her and licked his tongue over her sex, desperate to taste her passion on his lips. She let out a deep, carnal moan that ratcheted his desire into a new stratosphere. He lived to make her moan like that, lived to drive her wild.
Glancing at her face, he found her eyes closed and the color on her cheeks high. She was embarrassed about what he was doing. He knew it, and yet…she offered herself to him, letting him hook one of her legs over his shoulder to open her for his intimate kisses. That she gave of herself so willingly, despite her embarrassment, that she trusted him so completely with her pleasure—it was humbling. Gently, reverently, he worked his tongue over her in the rhythm she’d taught him the night before, loving the taste of her sweet musk mixing with the water that sluiced down her body from the shower.
Needing to relieve the ache building inside, he stroked his rock hard cock, his lips and tongue never ceasing in their devotion to her.
Panting, she whispered his name over and over, her pleasure filling him with a deep and profound pride. And when her frantic breathing stopped completely, he knew she was headed over the edge. He entered a finger inside and felt her inner muscles quake as he lapped at the sweet nectar of her release. He rode out her climax, still working his cock and hoping to find release. But it wasn’t enough.
He needed to possess. Needed to be inside her. Desperately.
He stood and her arms came around his waist. She rested her cheek on his chest, drawing in deep recovery breaths. He pulled her closer, aligning their bodies perfectly. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up and kissed her again, letting her taste her own pleasure, but he couldn’t stay in that position long because the temptation to hitch one of her legs up over his hip and slide inside her was too strong. Instead, he guided her down to her knees and held his cock to her lips.
She took him willingly, and caving in to that need to possess, he gripped her short hair and pulled her into the rhythm he needed. She moaned, taking him in even further, her brown-eyed gaze meeting his, daring him to lose himself in the moment. And in the midst of the most incredible climax of his life, it was impossible to tell just who owned who.
Chapter 18
Meadows: Want to not have dinner with me tonight?
Can’t. Working.
Meadows: Thought you were off tonight.
On call, actually. Got called in.
Sitting at the station’s kitchen table, Victoria smiled down at her phone, waiting for Jason’s reply. Three little dots danced on the screen, but his message was slow in coming.
In the living area, the TV blared—gunshots and explosions and all kinds of chaos she didn’t care to watch. She was about to ask Graham and the others to turn it down when Flaherty returned from the call he’d been out on and walked through the common room on his way to the kitchen.
“Flaherty, check this shit out.” Graham craned his neck over the back of the large sectional sofa. He never learned. He was always trying to make nice with Mike when anyone could see he just wanted to be left alone. “You’d like this movie. You ever seen American Sniper?”
“No,” Flaherty answered, his voice as cold as his steel gray gaze.
Victoria tried not to watch the exchange from her perch on a kitchen stool, but it was hard to look away from Flaherty. He was all silence and simmering tension.
But Graham obviously hadn’t tuned in to Flaherty’s mood because he kept talking. “Seriously? You haven’t seen it? For some reason, I thought you were a sniper in the army.”
“I was.” Two words. Always two words.
At least Victoria didn’t need to take it personally anymore. He did the two-word thing with everyone now. Even Graham McAndrew, everyone’s best friend.
“Oh, then dude, you gotta come see this. Bradley Cooper is so badass.”
A muscle twitched in Flaherty’s jaw, and Victoria’s hold tightened on her phone. Flaherty was pissed, and Graham was just not getting it.
This could get ugly.
“So badass?” Flaherty repeated, his voice low and ominous.
“Yeah, you shoulda seen the part—oh, wait.” Graham sprang up from the sofa and grabbed the TV remote off the coffee table, his back to Flaherty who stood frozen behind the sofa. “It’s DVD—I’ll rewind it and show you.”
Shut up, Graham. Shut. Up.
Victoria held herself so still she could hardly draw a breath. Could no one else see that Flaherty was five seconds from losing his shit? Why the hell didn’t Graham just stop talking?
“No. Don’t show me.” Flaherty started to walk away but paused two steps from the kitchen when his eyes met Victoria’s. If he’d been angry before, something about seeing her, sitting in the kitchen, doing absolutely nothing, took him to a new level of fury. He reeled on Graham. “You know what? You all think it’s so fucking great, don’t you? That sniper’s so badass. He’s such a fucking hero, right? If you think it’s so awesome, then why don’t you go? Why aren’t you signing up right now?”
He ripped the remote from Graham’s hand and killed the power to the TV with an angry jab of his thumb. “You want to know why I don’t want to watch your stupid movie? Because I fucking lived it. And it wasn’t fucking awesome.” He threw the remote at the wall and it cracked into pieces, the batteries flying out and falling to the floor.
“Mike.” Graham held his hands up, palms out. “Man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Fuck you, McAndrew.” Without looking at Victoria again, Flaherty turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction, toward their sleeping quarters.
“Jesus,” Graham said, looking contrite. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
The other guys muttered their assurances to him from their places on the L-shaped couch. “Don’t sweat it, man,” and “He’ll get over it.” Comments intended to make their eternally optimistic friend feel better.
Victoria knew Graham hadn’t meant anything by it, but part of her was glad Flaherty had chewed him out. He’d said all the things Victoria was too socially appropriate to say herself.
She slid her thumb across the screen to see if Jason had replied to her text yet. The three dots waved back at her.
“Hey, Vic.” Graham pulled up a stool across from her at the kitchen island. “Can I talk to you a sec?”
“Sure, what’s up?” she asked, more interested in what the hell could be taking Jason so long to type.
Waiting for Graham to speak, she continued watching the dots. When G
raham didn’t say anything, she finally looked up.
“There you are,” he said, a teasing grin on his face.
“Sorry. I was distracted. What did you want to tell me?”
He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologize actually.”
“For what?” For always expecting me to be there for you? For dangling your affection in my face whenever it suited your purposes? For cock blocking Jason at my brother’s wedding?
“Were you sitting out here by yourself because of the movie we had on?”
Victoria sighed. It was nearly impossible for her to work up any kind of grudge toward Graham. She’d been on a roll there for a second, and then he asked her his question, looking all apologetic and concerned, reminding her that as hurtful as he’d been in the past, he’d been equally as clueless about the fact that he’d been hurtful.
“I wasn’t thinking about you and Mike when I put that movie on.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not true. I was thinking about you two, but I thought it would be right up your alley, you know? I forget sometimes how shitty things probably were for you there. In my mind, I’d rather believe you went on patrols where nothing eventful ever happened, and if something did, everyone walked away without a scratch.”
“I wish it’d happened that way too.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
Unable to resist the urge to reassure him that he wasn’t a completely thoughtless jerk, she put down her phone and gave him her full attention. “I’m not sitting in the kitchen just because of the movie. Other than it being too loud for any normal human being’s ears, it doesn’t bother me to have that stuff on in the background. I just wanted to be alone. That’s all.”
Shoulders relaxing, Graham smiled and leaned over the table. “Good. Okay. That’s good.”
She smiled, amused that she’d said she’d come to the kitchen to be alone, and here he sat, looking ready to keep chatting.
He really was clueless.
Her phone buzzed on the table and she snatched it up again. The three dots had finally formed a sentence.
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