Always Mickie (Cruz Brothers Book 3)

by Melanie Munton

  I grabbed him by both hands and physically dragged him onto the floor. “Nonsense. I’ll just make you look good.”

  He groaned. “This is not going to go well.”

  I halted our movements, and put on my stern face. The one I usually reserved for Leo and Gabby. But, hey, whatever works. “The Dawson Cruz I know isn’t afraid of anything.” Something sparked in his eyes, and I bit back a smug grin. “Now, come on. You said you brought me here to dance with me, right?”

  He slowly nodded his head, his mouth spreading into a reluctant smile.

  “Okay, then.” I wrapped his arms around me and placed our bodies in position, just as a new song started. “Show me your best moves, Cruz.”

  We started to move, him leading and me following. “Careful, babe,” he warned in a dangerously sexy voice. “You remember what happens when you push me.”

  Heat spread throughout my body, making all my nerve endings tingle. “I remember what used to happen. But I don’t know. That side of you has been dormant for a while. It may not even still be in there.”

  That would definitely push him, and I wondered for a minute if I should have said it. I immediately rejected the idea when he swiftly spun me around with surprising skill.

  That hadn’t been in the lesson.

  He grinned. “Trust me. The way you push me—the way you affect me—that’s always been there.” He started grinding his hips into mine. I let out a soft moan at the contact, the pressure. “And it always will be there, Mick,” he whispered in my ear.

  The dance had suddenly gone from a fast-paced, lively salsa to a slow and sensual sway. Almost like a rumba. But we didn’t know how to rumba. Our bodies were simply joined at the most vital areas, and we were just moving against each other.

  Rolling our hips.

  Rubbing our chests.

  Groping with our hands.

  Just…connecting.

  “Do I push you, too?” he asked, his open mouth now at my neck.

  His lips grazed down my skin, his hot breath leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. It took all the control I had in me not to let my eyes roll back in my head.

  “How so?” I managed.

  “Do I get to you?” he asked. His hand skated down my back, lower, lower…until he reached my ass and squeezed. I sucked in a sharp breath. “When I touch you, do I still make you wet? Can I still make you moan with just a few kisses?”

  Were we even still dancing anymore?

  Who cared?

  “Have you been touching yourself without me around, baby?” he asked.

  He was practically carrying me at this point, holding almost all my weight in his arms. I couldn’t concentrate enough to even stand up on my own.

  “When you get yourself off with your fingers, do you think of me?”

  Only every single time.

  “Because I think of you, Mick.”

  Holy hell.

  I was about to combust.

  “These past two months, every time I’ve fucked my own hand, I’ve imagined it was you.” I could feel his dick harden as it rubbed against my center. “It’s always you. I picture myself sinking into your sweet pussy, being surrounded by your heat. It does it for me every goddamn time. Drives me fucking crazy.”

  Sweat had gathered at the nape of my neck and between my breasts. I was so tempted to grab him by the back of his head, and force him to lick it off me. His tongue had powers that far exceeded average human capabilities, and I wanted it on me in the dirtiest of ways.

  All thoughts of decorum had clearly gone out the window.

  “I know what would feel even better,” I found myself saying.

  He squeezed my ass harder. “Yeah? What’s that, baby?”

  “You…taking me home.” I was so worked up, I could hardly breathe. “And fucking me in our bed.”

  Wait, what was I saying?

  Were we ready for that?

  After all this time, should I be giving in so easily?

  He growled into my neck. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words for two fucking months. Be sure that’s what you want.”

  I don’t think I’d ever wanted anything more.

  “I…need you,” I whispered.

  He groaned so loudly, I was sure the people closest to us heard him.

  Not that I gave a damn.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to say no when you tell me things like that,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I wasn’t asking you to say no,” I replied. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

  He pulled away, slightly leaning back to look me in the eyes. He searched my expression, I suppose to assure himself that I was serious and not just caught up in our hot, lustful dance.

  I was caught up.

  But that didn’t mean I wasn’t serious about him taking me home.

  “Then let’s get the hell out of here,” he grated out.

  Right away, Detective.

  But he didn’t stop dancing.

  Instead, he kept searching my face, kept touching me in places that made me breathless. He bent forward, bringing his mouth closer to mine. His eyes glazed over, as they always did when he was about to kiss me.

  Hallelujah! He was about to kiss me!

  When he was so close I could inhale his breaths as my own, there was a buzzing in his pants pocket. Overwhelming disappointment drowned out my arousal when his eyes squeezed shut in a way that told me he was going to take the call. And when he did, he would probably have to leave me.

  It had happened so many times before.

  He didn’t officially work most nights. But you couldn’t exactly punch a time clock with homicide investigations.

  Thanks a lot, all you inconsiderate murderers out there. Way to cock-block us.

  He didn’t remove his eyes from mine when he pulled his phone out and answered it. “This had better be a fucking emergency,” he spat into the receiver.

  The longer he listened to the other person on the phone—whom I assumed to be his partner, Kyle—the flatter his eyes went. They did that whenever he was turning off his emotions and going cold, which he usually had to do with his job. I knew that whatever was being discussed was not going to bode well for the rest of the evening’s plans.

  “Got’cha,” he responded to the person on the phone. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  I tried my best not to look too distraught. He had made significant effort tonight. Taking me dancing, and actually dancing with me, was something I never—not in a million years—thought he would do.

  This was his job, and he couldn’t help it when people were killed.

  I needed to cut him some slack. Especially when he hung up and looked at me with so much guilt.

  “Work?”

  He nodded, his expression apologetic. “I’m really sorry—”

  “Don’t worry about,” I said, cutting him off. “I understand. You have a job to do.”

  His forehead creased. He looked confused by my reaction. “Are you sure? I mean, this night was supposed to be about us.”

  I smiled warmly. “And we’ll have other nights. It’s okay, Dawson. Really.”

  He walked me to the door when he dropped me back off at the house. It looked like there were so many things he wanted to say in that moment, but couldn’t find the words to communicate them.

  “Could I come by tonight after I’m done working?” he asked.

  I knew what he was asking. Could we continue what we’d started at the club?

  “Sure, if it’s not too late.”

  Despite my words, I knew the spell was broken. And it would, in fact, be too late to rekindle that fire by the time he got home. With his cases, it usually was.

  He seemed to read my thoughts and curtly nodded his acceptance. “‘Night, Mick.” He kissed me on the cheek.

  I got the feeling he’d stopped himself from going for the lips because there was a good chance we’d get too caught up if our tongues connected.

  An
d then he would never make it into work.

  “Be safe,” I called out, watching him walk back to his car.

  He peered over his shoulder and winked. “Always.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dawson

  I hadn’t gone back to the house the other night.

  The case Kyle called me in on was another burglary-homicide with the same M.O. as the first four. It had kept me up for the rest of the night and well into the next morning.

  That was two days ago.

  Since then, I’d been buried under a mountain of paperwork, not to mention the amount of case files I’d been sifting through. I’d barely had time to sleep, let alone think about taking Mickie out on another date.

  I just hoped she wasn’t pissed at me.

  A file was slapped on top of my desk. I turned to see my partner standing there, his hands shoved in his pockets. He tipped his chin down at the file. “That’s the Siever file.” Siever was the name of the victim found at the third break-in. “And you’ll never guess what the coroner found underneath her fingernails.”

  “Please tell me it’s something that will help us nail this bastard,” I said.

  The corner of his mouth tilted upward. Bingo. “Skin cells,” he said. “And they weren’t hers.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Fuck, yes.”

  “The lab is running the DNA now, but you know that will take a couple of weeks.”

  Because unlike on TV shows, you couldn’t obtain DNA test results in a matter of hours. Unfortunately.

  “If you liked that, then you’re going to shit a brick when you hear this,” he added.

  I waved my hand at him. “I’m on the edge of my seat here, Wilson.”

  His grin widened to a full-blown smile, with teeth and all. “A witness who lives across the street from the Nettleman house is pretty sure he saw someone running away through the backyard around twelve-thirty.”

  Nettleman was the home of the fourth break-in where the second victim was found.

  “How reliable is the witness?” I asked cautiously.

  Witness testimony could sometimes be the biggest pain in a detective’s ass. Because it wasn’t fact, which meant the story could always change. And it oftentimes did change.

  Kyle shrugged. “The guy seems pretty solid. He’s fairly certain he can give us a decent physical description. He also said the person he saw had a distinct hitch in his gait. Possibly a limp.”

  I scrubbed my hand down my face. “Well, it’s a start.”

  “Taking him back to interrogation right now if you want to tag along.”

  My cell phone rang from underneath a stack of documents. “I’ll be there in a sec,” I told him. He walked off.

  All the air left my lungs when I saw Mickie’s name flash across the screen. I prayed this wasn’t the call where she told me how infuriated she was that I’d bailed on our date the other night.

  “Hey,” she said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, not at all,” I rushed to say. “I was just doing paperwork, and you know how that goes.”

  She chuckled. “About as unproductive as usual, I would imagine. Listen…I was, um—are you busy tonight?”

  I’m never too busy for you, baby. “Nope. Don’t have any plans. What’s up?”

  She hesitated for a second. “I was wondering if you’d want to come over for dinner.”

  Huh. Apparently, she wasn’t pissed at me. My day just got a whole hell of a lot better. “Definitely,” I said. “I should be out of here by eight. Does that work?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “My shift is over at four.”

  “Is it okay if I bring over some leftover cake for the kids?” I asked. “It was Philmore’s birthday today, and there’s enough here to feed a hoard of elephants.”

  “Actually, uh…” she trailed off, sounding a little uncertain. “The kids won’t be here. Ashley’s watching them tonight.” Her nurse friend, Ashley, was our usual go-to babysitter if Mason and Sage weren’t available. “It’ll just be us. Is that all right?”

  All right?

  Abso-fucking-lutely, being alone with her for an entire night was all right.

  “Sounds perfect, Mick,” I said, dropping my voice an octave. “In that case, is there anything you want me to bring over for dinner?”

  “Just yourself.”

  Even though she couldn’t see it, my smile had so many meanings behind it. “I think I can manage that.”

  After we hung up, I couldn’t understand why everything around me still looked normal and to-scale. Because I felt like I was fifty feet tall, and I expected the world to suddenly look very different.

  “Cruz!” Lieutenant Allen called from his office doorway.

  I leaned back in my chair to meet his stare. “Sir?”

  “I need a moment with you, please.” He disappeared back into his office without waiting for a response.

  Shit. This was probably going to be about the promotion.

  I knew how badly he wanted me to take it. Despite the fact that Captain Johannsen had been my immediate boss for years, the Lieutenant and I had always been on the same page with each other. He’d more or less been my mentor over the years. In fact, moving up the ranks like this was normally a tedious, competitive process. But Allen liked me so much that he was using what power and influence he had to push me through without all the bureaucracy.

  I’d paid my dues, though, and had earned my spot.

  Everyone in this station knew it, too.

  After closing the door behind me, I took a seat across from his desk. “Yes, sir?”

  He watched me from his relaxed position in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. The man might look casual, but I knew better. That was usually when he was at his most stern.

  “You got an answer for me yet?” he asked evenly.

  I shook my head. “No, sir. Still thinking. I haven’t had many opportunities to talk with Mickie about it.”

  Showing no reaction, he slowly rocked back and forth in his chair. A lesser man would have been unnerved by his stare, but I was a hardened cop. Plus, I was a Cruz. We were the poster children for don’t-mess-with-me expressions. Hell, we practically invented that shit.

  “You still living with your brother?” he asked.

  Other than Kyle, the Lieutenant was one of the few people who knew of my personal situation. “Yeah, for now,” I replied. “We’ve been communicating better lately, though. I think we’re headed in the right direction.”

  Allen was silent for a moment. “That’s good,” he said. “I’m hoping you two will reconcile. To be honest, I was wondering if one of the reasons you’ve been hesitant about taking this position was because of your marital troubles.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  He shifted around in his chair, grunting. He acted as if he was so old and out of shape, but he was full of shit. The man may have been in his mid-fifties, but he didn’t even have a full head of gray hair yet, and he rarely touched sweets. He was still fit enough to power slam perps into the pavement if he wanted to.

  “I’m just saying that if you and Mickie were to stay separated, I could understand why you might become less…ambitious.” He watched me closely for my reaction. “So, I’m certainly hoping that doesn’t happen. You have too much potential in this department to waste it by becoming complacent.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to get my emotions in check. “I appreciate your concern, sir. But I have no intention of staying separated from my wife, nor of wasting any opportunities here.”

  “Good.”

  “That being said,” I continued. “One of the reasons Mickie and I have been having problems is because both of our work hours have been crazy, and we haven’t had as much time for each other.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him. “I know, I know. It goes with the territory of being a cop. I’ve known that from the beginning. And so has she. But that doesn’t mean it’s not difficult to navigate s
ometimes.”

  He leaned forward and placed his interlocked hands on the desk. “We all go through those times, son. Fran and I were even divorced for an entire year before we came to our senses and re-married.”

  That was news to me. “You and Fran split up?”

  He chuckled. “Yep. And we only lasted two years before that happened. Now, we’ve been together thirty-seven years. So, if you and Mickie have been able to make it this long before having a major tiff, I’d say you’re doing all right.”

  I laughed and tipped my head back. “I appreciate that. We just still have things we need to figure out.”

  I heard something move across his desk. When I looked down it was a blank piece of paper. I glanced up at him in question.

  He nodded down at the paper. “That is the salary I’ve been authorized to offer you if you accept this promotion. I was able to get you more than the average due to the numerous awards you’ve earned during your tenure here. I even managed to score two more vacation days.”

  I hesitated. I automatically knew that whatever number I saw there was going to make this position even harder to turn down, if that’s what Mickie and I determined to be the best course of action.

  I turned it over…and blew out a heavy breath.

  My eyebrows jumped up my forehead.

  Well, that would definitely help with the bills.

  The Lieutenant smirked at me. “You’re going to owe me one for that if you take this.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I murmured. My head was being bombarded with so many thoughts.

  I moved to stand but paused when he spoke again. “Look, Cruz. I know this life isn’t always easy. And family is important. It can be hard to find and maintain that balance sometimes. But believe me, if you can do that, when you become my age you’ll know that it was all worth it. I’ve put away hundreds of criminals during my career, and I was still able to see my kids grow up. I was able to make a difference on the streets and at home. And I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

  His words hit me hard, giving me even more to think about. I didn’t have a worthy response, so I nodded and turned for the door.

  “Except paying that divorce attorney,” Allen grumbled. I looked back to see him pointing a finger at me. “Take it from me, make things right with your wife before you end up pissing away a trip to the Caribbean on a divorce. One that doesn’t even last.”