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Exposed

Page 13

by Brighton Walsh


  It had been my hardest job to date—a dirty cop who was sliding drugs under the table to Max. The only problem was that Max found out the cop wasn’t being entirely honest. Max had it on good authority that the cop was pocketing almost half of everything he got off the dealers and turning around to sell it and keep the profit for himself.

  The job had looked simple enough on paper. Slip into the cop’s apartment, retrieve whatever drugs I could find, and bring them back to Max. Get in, get out, don’t get caught.

  And it had almost worked. Riley and I had nearly made it out in the clear, but the cop had come home early. There’d been a moment where Riley had looked at me, both of us knowing it was up to us to get out of there, because all we were to Max was two disposable kids. He’d be more upset about the lost drugs than he would about some dead low-life teenagers.

  Even to this day, I wasn’t under the illusion that we got out by anything other than pure luck. The cop hadn’t had time to draw his weapon, and we leapt. Riley had fought dirty, had done everything he could to make sure that if we both couldn’t get out, that at least I would be able to.

  And that had been the first night I’d jumped into the fray, wanting to save him as much as he wanted to save me.

  With the drugs stashed in my coat pockets, I’d grabbed the only weapon I could—a heavy lamp base—and swung widely, hitting the cop square in the nose. It’d been a messy blur of panting breaths, grunts, and blood—so much blood—and more of a struggle, but then Riley and I were running with everything we had, our hands clutched tightly together as we disappeared into the night, getting lost in the dark streets of the city.

  Seeing him fight for me, struggle against someone bigger, someone stronger, just to make sure I’d be able to get out, to get to safety, had made me fall for him. That had been the night I’d realized the special thing between us hadn’t been just teenage lust or a crush. That had been the night I’d realized I’d fallen in love with him.

  And now that we were facing another situation not unlike that one, where our opponent wasn’t stronger in the traditional sense but in the sense that he had a power we couldn’t touch, I couldn’t stop the worried ache gnawing at my gut …

  What if we didn’t get away this time?

  It was well after midnight, but sleep still eluded me. After a day of talking to Aaron and both of us brainstorming, of hacking into whatever we could—and coming up with dead ends each and every time—Riley and I had finally both crashed on the bed. Since we had slept together twice, I didn’t see a point in keeping up pretenses. Riley had fallen asleep quickly, no doubt exhausted from the last several days. He was on his side facing me, his arm wrapped around me while I lay staring at the ceiling, trying to figure a way out of this mess.

  Riley shifted, tucking his arm farther around me and tugging me enough so he twisted me onto my side, my back against his chest. “Your thinking woke me up.” His voice was scratchy and rough, heavy with sleep, and hearing it transported me back to when I was sixteen, curled up on the couch in his and Gage’s apartment. My sleeping troubles had started not long before I’d met Riley, and although it’d been comforting being in his arms, it hadn’t helped. Even with his warmth behind me, his arms protecting me, I’d still found it difficult to sleep. Except at that time, what had kept me awake was something altogether different from what was causing my insomnia now. Something equally terrifying—at least to me—but something that hadn’t affected anyone but me.

  Riley gripped my hip, his thumb slipping under the cotton of my tank top and rubbing a soothing circle against my stomach. Pressing his nose to my hair, he inhaled deeply, then moved the loose strands out of the way so he could brush his lips against my shoulder. “You okay?”

  And, really, what could I tell him? No, I wasn’t okay. I hadn’t been okay for a very, very long time, and now I didn’t see how I ever would be again. I didn’t see how I could possibly get out of this alive, but more than that, the fact that I didn’t see how the people I loved would get out of it alive was what truly terrified me.

  Mustering up as much sincerity as I could, I said, “Just couldn’t sleep.”

  Riley didn’t say anything in response, and just when I thought he’d call me on my lie—because I had no doubt he knew I was lying—he pressed his hand flat against my stomach and pulled me back to him, curling around my body. “I could probably do something to help you with that…”

  He didn’t wait for me to respond before slipping his hand completely under my tank and reaching up to cup one of my breasts, his thumb whispering a circle around my nipple. And I knew this wouldn’t help anything, just like it hadn’t any other time we’d slept together. But it’d let me get lost for a bit, allow me to feel something other than hopelessness and the fear that had been eating me alive for so much longer than just the past five years.

  I shifted, tilting my hips so my ass rubbed his cock. He was hard already, his length pressing against me, and I reached back and slipped my hand into his boxers. I gripped him, ran my thumb over the silky smoothness of his thick head, down the length of his cock, and gave him a couple quick pumps.

  His answering groan echoed into my ear, his lips resting against the shell, his seeking fingers pausing on my breast while I tried to drive him out of his mind with teasing strokes. And though this wouldn’t solve anything, wouldn’t get me any closer to the end of this mess, it would give me back something I’d had stolen from me so long ago. Something I craved with every ounce of myself.

  Power.

  I loved it, needed it. And here, in the bedroom, had been the one and only place I’d gotten it on my terms. That control in knowing I was the one calling the shots, that I was able to lead us however I wanted. Knowing, too, I was the one who could make it stop in the blink of an eye.

  And knowing, beyond anything, that Riley would stop. Without question, without pressure or groaning or coercion, he’d stop. And that gave me the freedom to keep going.

  “Touch me,” I whispered, reaching up with my other hand and guiding his lower, down to where I was already getting wet for him. He took my plea, slipping his hand into the front of my boy shorts and not stopping until he came in contact with my clit. Before being with Riley again, I’d forgotten how good it felt to be touched by someone who knew my body almost as well as I knew it myself. Who knew how fast I liked to be stroked, what parts I liked to have focused on, the exact rhythm I needed to get off.

  And Riley was an expert at playing my body.

  He propped his elbow on the bed, lifting himself and leaning over me, bending down to steal a kiss while the hand he had in my panties drove me crazy. He didn’t play, didn’t tease or draw out the torture. He traced his fingers down my slit, slipped one inside me, and then slid it back up, stroking the wetness around my clit. I moaned, squeezing his cock harder in my hand, and I wanted to make him go as weak as he always seemed to make me. I wanted to make him drop to his knees and beg for more.

  RILEY

  Her hands were like heaven, stroking me, her thumb playing with the head of my cock, and I wanted so badly to pin her to the bed and drive inside her. Hook her knees over my arms or prop her ankles on my shoulders and fuck her until she screamed. Make us both see stars.

  Before I could do just that, she rolled over and placed a hand on my bare chest, guiding me onto my back. And when she slid down my body, pulling my boxers off before she wrapped her fist around my cock and licked a line straight up my length, I certainly wasn’t going to say no to a blow job, especially from her.

  “Christ,” I groaned, my head falling back to the pillow, pressing into it while I squeezed my eyes shut. She licked the head of my cock, swirling her tongue around it a dozen times, before she engulfed it in her mouth, sucking on just the tip while she pumped my shaft with her fist.

  I reached out for her, gathering her hair in my hands and holding it away from her face so I could watch her lips stretch around the head of my cock. As much as everything else with her was familiar,
especially sex, all it took was the simple act of holding her hair back to remind me that everything wasn’t familiar.

  While the way she was swirling her tongue around me and the rhythm of her strokes were both things I remembered intimately, the mass of hair I held in my fist was so at odds with the memories I had. Before, her hair had always been short. Blunt styles that I’d loved because it made her look like the badass girl she was, the girl who took no prisoners, who got what she wanted, when she wanted it. But Evie now? She was such a contradiction—her innocent-looking face dotted with freckles combined with her bombshell body, her fiery red hair—and I loved that I knew who she was behind the illusions of her outward appearance. I loved that she looked like nothing more than a pretty girl to others, but she could drop you in thirty seconds. I loved that she knew how to fight, how to take care of herself. That she could get any bit of information out of just about anyone, knew all the tricky ways to get what she wanted, and wasn’t afraid to do so.

  I knew what she was like behind closed doors, behind that mask she put on for the world. Only me, and I fucking loved it.

  Evie flicked her tongue against the underside of my cock, then blew a gust of cold air against it, and I wanted back inside. I wanted to feel the warm wetness of her perfect little mouth, wanted to feel her tongue massaging my shaft. Gripping her hair just tight enough that she lifted her eyes to mine, I said, “Open up. Take me inside again.” My voice was scratchy and low, and when she didn’t acknowledge me, I thought she didn’t hear.

  But then she gave me a wicked smile, the corner of her mouth lifting before she drew out the torture even longer. She drifted her lips up and down the length of my cock, her tongue fluttering and teasing, her fingers stroking my balls, but she wouldn’t give me the hot suction of her mouth.

  “Evie.” Sitting up, I propped myself on one of my elbows while holding her hair back in my other hand. “Give me your mouth.” I guided her up my shaft until her lips were poised over the tip of my cock and applied pressure to the back of her head. She opened her mouth against me, but instead of engulfing me like I wanted, she let her teeth drag over the head, and I hissed out a curse.

  As much as I wanted her mouth on me, wanted her to go exactly where I directed her, I couldn’t deny that this power play between us was hot as hell. Part of the reason I loved Evie was because she didn’t take shit from anyone. She stood up for what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take control. The thought that she was my equal in every way only made me hotter for her.

  I looked down my body at her, seeing that mass of red hair fisted in my hand, her lips pink and wet and waiting for me. And then she was doing exactly what I wanted, surrounding me with her mouth and sucking me inside. And seeing her lips spread wide around me, taking all of me in, made my cock jerk inside her mouth.

  “Fuck,” I breathed. “Your mouth is so good … so good.”

  She glanced at me then, her eyes connecting with mine, and Jesus Christ, I’d missed this.

  Evie and I clicked, meshed together perfectly, and that had been obvious even as young as we’d been. And despite the time apart, despite the years between us, it wasn’t something either of us could deny now.

  She pulled her mouth off my cock, flicking out her tongue to tease the underside, and I groaned out a low breath, loving that she still knew how to tease my body, get me worked up so fucking much I couldn’t wait to bury myself inside her.

  I let her hair fall from my grasp as she pulled away and sat up on her knees, removing the rest of her clothes. And then she crawled up my body, kissing my chest, my neck, slipping her tongue inside my mouth. I gripped her face as she settled on top of me, her knees on either side of my hips. She was so wet, she slid with ease against my cock, and as much as I wanted to reach down and grip my cock, guide myself into her, I didn’t. I wanted to see how far she’d go, how long she’d tease us both before finally giving in, knowing the payoff would be all the better for both of us when I finally sank deep inside her.

  When she shifted forward, crawling farther up my body, I groaned, wrapping my arms around her thighs as she put her knees on either side of my head. And then I leaned up, licking a straight line up her slit, and pulled her down onto my mouth, sucking her clit between my lips.

  She rocked against my face, pressing one hand to the brick wall behind the bed while the other clutched my hair, holding me to her. I ran my hands along the outside of her thighs, over her hips, then clutched her waist before sliding them up to cup her tits, pinching her nipples and tugging. When she ground her pussy harder against my mouth in response, I couldn’t stop my groan from reverberating on her. Stroking her with my tongue the way I knew she liked, I lifted my eyes to see her. She was staring down at me, her mouth open, her eyes fuzzy and hazed, but in them I saw everything I’d been feeling. There was no doubting that connection between us in the way she was looking at me.

  That connection between us that hadn’t ever gone away.

  Before I could get her off, make her come on my tongue, she pulled back, breathing hard as she slid down my body until she hovered over my throbbing cock. She reached over to the makeshift nightstand and blindly felt around until she came up with a condom. It seemed like a blink later that she’d rolled it down my length, then she was poised over me and sinking down until our bodies were flush together.

  I groaned, wrapping my fingers around her hips, digging them into her flesh. “Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.”

  She leaned forward, resting her face close to mine. She didn’t kiss me, didn’t trace my lips with her tongue, just leaned so close we were sharing breaths while she rocked over me, while she took me inside her over and over and over again. Needing more, I reached up with one hand and wrapped my fingers around the base of her head, delving into her thick hair, and pulled her against me. Closing my eyes, I kissed her, slipping my tongue against hers and groaning at how good it all felt. Being inside her body, as close to her as I could possibly get.

  She pulled back and sat up, taking me all the way inside her, and swiveled her hips, and I thought I’d die. Right there under her, staring up into her face as she drove me out of my fucking mind.

  “Jesus, baby.” It was hardly more than a whisper, my voice ragged and rough as I closed my eyes against the feel of her surrounding me.

  When I blinked my eyes open, she was staring down at me, her hair a curtain around us, making it feel like we were the only two people on earth. I looked up into her eyes, seeing the undeniable connection we had reflected back, and I wanted to stay like this forever. Because when she was here like this, I knew she was safe. And I would do anything to make sure she always was.

  EVIE

  Riley hadn’t been my first partner. Not my second, either. And since my time with him in high school, there had been many others who’d come and gone, mostly nameless, faceless men, but they were there. And while there had been a physical connection, there had never been this all-consuming fire that was always there with me and Riley.

  It felt exhilarating and terrifying and freeing, and I didn’t know which worried me the most. As much as I wanted to let myself fall into him, into his arms and his smile and his safe harbor, I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself get caught up in him, in us, and forget what was chasing me.

  Riley reached up, brushing my hair back over my shoulder, and wrapped his fingers around my neck. He slid his thumb along my jawline, and I could barely look into his eyes. Couldn’t look away, though, either. I could see everything he was feeling reflecting back at me—the fear for me, the honesty of this connection between us … the heartbreak at all the time we’d lost.

  And I hated that we’d lost it at all, when in the end, it hadn’t mattered. One of the reasons I’d run in the first place was so he could be safe. And now he was here, right in the middle of exactly what I’d tried to keep him out of.

  The knowledge that he was still involved with everything, wrapped up in the business that had cost me my life, filled me with s
o much anger and resentment. I wanted better for him, but more than that, I wanted him to want so much better for himself.

  “Evie … baby…” His voice was rough, breathless, and I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. While his tongue slid across mine, I rocked over him, bringing us both closer to the peak. “Fuck, I’m so close,” he ground out through clenched teeth, pumping up into me with sure strokes, his hands gripping me, holding me exactly where he wanted me to be. And when he brought one of his hands down, slipping it between us and circling his thumb around my clit as I slid forward and back against him, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

  At Riley’s groan, his body tightening under mine, I came, head tossed back, body thrumming and pulsing and collapsing against him. His breath was harsh, ragged in my ear, mumbling about how good it felt, how good it always felt with me.

  It was little consolation that we felt the same. Little comfort in the fact that while I was thinking about how amazing it always was with him, he was thinking the same thing.

  Because there was only one thought that still weighed on my shoulders, one thought echoing in my mind, even while he was inside me …

  How little time we had left.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  RILEY

  By the time I got up the next morning, Evie was already awake, sitting on the couch and bent over the laptop. I rolled out of the bed and walked over to her, leaning over the back of the couch to peer down at what she was looking at.

  “Morning.” I bent toward her, pressing my face into her neck and inhaling. Citrus and flowers filled my nose, and I closed my eyes at all the memories that came rushing to me, memories that transported me right back to being eighteen again. Even after five years, she still smelled exactly how I remembered.

  “Hey,” she mumbled, her fingers constantly moving on the keyboard, her focus intent on the screen in front of her.

  “When’d you get up?”

  “Hmmm?” she answered distractedly. “Oh, I, um…” She trailed off, leaning closer to the screen to read something before swearing under her breath and leaning back. “I didn’t sleep very well. I’ve been up since around five.”

 

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