Bend ~ Molly McLain

by McLain, Molly

  My jaw slacks open. “You did not just say that.”

  “What’s your problem with law enforcement if it isn’t your old man?” He crosses his thick arms over his chest and I get the first glimpse of a tattoo high on his bicep.

  “My problem is that you’re all a bunch of cocky, power hungry jerks.”

  “You see the hypocrisy in that, don’t you?” He grins. “You’re condemning the very thing you like most about me.”

  Sly bastard. “I never said I liked you.” At least not out loud.

  “You like my cock, princess. And my tongue, too. The way you scream my name pretty much gives away how you feel about me.”

  Cocky jerk, case in point. “Give me something more to go on then, Sergeant, if that’s not all you want to be known for.”

  He narrows his eyes and I point a finger at him.

  “Exactly. You don’t want me—or anyone—to know the real you, so you pretend to be a dick to keep everyone away.”

  “That’s me, Kins, not every cop in the Metro.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not fucking every cop in the Metro, am I?”

  “Getting to know me better isn’t going to change the outcome of this, princess. When we’re done, we’re done.”

  I asked for honesty, but damn, that stings.

  “There she is.”

  “Huh?”

  Trent points toward the elevator, where Tally bustles out with her oversized purse. Sabrina, her coworker for the night, is right behind her and, for a few minutes, the two of them chat at the back of Tally’s car.

  “Purse looks full,” Trent says quietly.

  “Yep.” I wonder which of the new stock she’s stuffed inside tonight. “God, I feel sick.”

  “You want to confront her?”

  “Not yet.” Sabrina’s a good employee. I don’t want to drag her into this.

  We watch for another minute and then Sabrina heads off toward her car. Tally climbs behind the wheel of hers, too, and my heart sinks.

  “Shit.”

  “Just wait. She could be unloading.”

  Maybe. But then she starts the car.

  “There’s still time to catch her, Kins. Just say the word and we’ll go.”

  I know it’s my call. He’s only here to back me up in case things get out of hand, but it’d be so much easier if that weren’t the case.

  “I don’t know if I can do it.” Suddenly I feel like an idiot. How could I ever think that confronting her would be easier than fixing the camera system?

  “I’ll do it if you want.”

  I swing my gaze to Trent’s. “You’ll talk to her?”

  “No, princess.” His lips curl sympathetically. “I’m not on duty and I couldn’t make any headway without probable cause. I mean the cameras. I can fix them.”

  From nice guy to semi-jerk to nice guy. He’s good at keeping me on my toes, that’s for sure. “She’s sleeping with my ex.”

  “The maintenance dude?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ouch.”

  No kidding. “I’m not going to turn down your help, but you’ll have to be discreet. Tally can’t find out the cameras are working.” If she does, I’m screwed. I’ll have nothing to back up the missing inventory and the corporate office won’t like that one bit.

  Trent pulls in a deep breath as Tally backs out of the parking space and heads toward the exit. “One of the good things about those cocky cops you don’t like?”

  “What’s that?”

  “We can be discreet as fuck.”

  “I thought you had the day off,” Travis gripes from my mom’s couch while the NFL pregame plays on the TV in front of him.

  “I did, but something came up.” Something that’s forcing me to miss the Broncos first preseason game of the year. Against the fucking Cowboys, no less.

  “Like what?” Tristan asks from the recliner, where he’s sprawled out, and looking rough as hell from the night before. Must’ve been a good night on the pole.

  “Like something I can’t tell you assholes about,” I snap, more annoyed with myself than them. Waiting another day or two to take care of Kinsey’s wiring wouldn’t have been the end of the world, but no. The prospect of seeing her again—and probably getting her naked, too—had me saying sure. Sure, I’ll come over, princess. No problem.

  “Language,” Mom reminds me with a smack on the ass as she saunters into the living room with a tray of snacks. “Maybe you’ll be done before the game is over.”

  “Maybe.” I take a sip from my travel mug of coffee and shrug. Even if I am, there’s a slim chance I’ll pass up sex for cheese and sausage and a few beers. Not when Kinsey’s such a delicious high all her own. “Then again, I don’t want to see you two crying when your precious Cowgirls lose, so . . .”

  Trav flips me off, Mom shoots me the death glare, and Tristan gives a hoot of agreement. “Hell, yeah, man!”

  Mom swings her glare toward him, adding a pointed finger. God, I love these goons. We’re each a little screwed up in the head thanks to good ol’ Dad, but that’s what’s brought us together like this, too. I don’t know any other trio of brothers that gets together with their mom to watch Sunday football. Then again, I wouldn’t want to. This is our thing.

  “I’ll see what I can do to finish up early.” I head toward the front door, pausing to kiss Mom’s forehead over the back of the couch. “Save some food for me.”

  She pats my cheek and Trav snorts, shoving a handful of chips in his face like a greedy kid. You’d never know he was the oldest, given his smart mouth and goofball attitude, but I suppose that’s his way of dealing with everything.

  Tristan was only three when all hell broke loose in our family, so he’s had the luxury of growing up relatively normal, save the knowledge that our old man is locked away in a prison cell the next state over. All things considered, the fact that Tristan only takes his clothes off four nights a week for a bunch of horny women is impressive.

  Sometimes I wonder if I’m the most fucked up of all, especially on days like this, when I throw everything I’ve worked so hard for to the side and give into temptations I have no business giving into. Today, that wicked enticement is spending the afternoon with Kinsey, knowing damn well I’m not in a good place and won’t be for the next month.

  Two weeks from now marks twenty-four years since my life changed irrevocably. The man who’d taught me how to hike a football and throw the perfect pitch turned into a monster. Maybe I’d always known he had a dark side from the way he pushed Mom around, but no one could have predicted he’d flip the way he did.

  That’s why I can’t let myself get close to nice girls like Kinsey. Fuck, my old man is the reason I can’t get too close to anyone. Instead, I’m stuck on the hamster wheel, testing myself over and over again, just to prove that I can control whatever demons might live in the shadow I cast.

  I’m playing with fire, liking the time I spend with Kinsey, but I’m also a man of my word. At least, to the extent I can trust myself to do what needs to be done. I told her I’d help her out and I will. The trick will be to stop myself before taking more than she wants to give. Before I get selfish.

  There’s danger in being greedy and there’s gluttony in my blood. The odds are stacked against me.

  “Hey you,” Kinsey greets me with a bright grin when I stroll into Chloe’s just after noon. Her redheaded employee, Jana, waves from the other side of the store, where she’s dressing a mannequin in pink and black lace.

  “Hey yourself. Is this still a good time?” I hope I’m not fucking things up walking in with my tools. I put them in a shoe store bag, just in case.

  Kinsey nods and waves me toward the hallway at the back of the store. “I told Jana you were coming. She’s been here since I started, and I know she’s suspicious of Tally, too.”

  “Ah, okay.”

  “Just as long as Tally or Ben don’t show up, we should be fine.” Kinsey closes her office door behind us, and I immediately drop the bag and p
ull her close. “What’s this for?” she asks, sliding her hands up my chest as mine curl around her waist.

  I don’t know where the urge came from and, frankly, it scares the shit out of me, but I can’t let her see that. I go the safe route instead. “Figured I’d save you the trouble of hitting on me and just cut to the chase.”

  Her eyes go round and that sweet smile stretches wide. “Well, aren’t you accommodating today.”

  “That’s what you keep me around for, isn’t it?”

  She begins to laugh, but I dip my head and kiss the amusement right off of her lips. Clinging to my T-shirt, she toes up and strokes her tongue against mine, giving back just as good as she gets.

  She’s feisty, this girl. Soft and sweet, but full of fire right down to the core. She nips at my bottom lip and the gentle tug of her teeth sends a jolt of desire straight down my spine. My cock stirs behind my fly and the need to own her right fucking now rushes in fast.

  “I want you,” she mutters against my lips, already working on my belt and zipper.

  My head warns me to do the right thing and slow this train down, but my gut says fuck it. You can’t change the rules mid-game, man. You told her you’d give her what she wanted, now man up and do it.

  The problem is . . . I want her, too. Way the fuck more than I should. It’s no secret that wanting leads to desperation, and desperation leads to really stupid decisions made in a dark alley at night.

  Stupid decisions a man can never take back.

  “Please . . .” Kinsey’s rubs the tip of her nose against mine, and something altogether different flares to life in my chest.

  This girl trusts me. She trusts me a hell of lot more than I trust myself, and maybe . . . just maybe . . . I can give her what we both want without fucking it all up.

  Reaching behind her, I lock the door.

  THE NEXT MINUTE IS NOTHING but frantic hands and heavy breathing. Kinsey pulls off her cropped pants while I roll on the condom and then . . . fuckkkk.

  She bends over the desk, presents her tight little ass to me, and I sink inside without hesitation.

  “Ah, princess, that’s good,” I groan when I bottom out. Just two strokes and I’m buried to the hilt, because this girl is always ready for me. Like her pussy is made for my cock.

  “Harder,” she gasps. “I need to come.”

  “You telling me what to do, Kins?” Leaning down, I nip at her ear and snake a rough hand around to her tits. Thank fuck for her low cut top and skimpy bra, because two quick tugs is all it takes to expose her perky flesh to my greedy palm.

  “Trent . . .” My name on her lips is the best kind of song. I could listen to her say it over and over again in that breathless pant that’s a perfect mix of begging and bliss. She’s like a shot of whiskey to my ego. Strong and empowering.

  “Mmm, these are nice.” Hammering into her from behind, I play in the front. Her nipples are already tight little peaks, and every time I pinch or flick, her pussy clenches around my dick.

  I want to see them. Suck on them, too. Make her come with nothing more than my mouth. But fucking her like this feels too good, so it’ll have to wait. Another day, another time. Maybe.

  “Goddamn, you’re on fire,” I breathe against the back of her neck, as she takes my punishing thrusts one after the other. “Such a hot little pussy.”

  “Oh, God, yes. Like that . . .” she rasps, and I pound harder, driving my cock into her core until she goes off around me like the Fourth of July. Tremors and soft cries, liquid heat soaking my cock, begging for more.

  Feeling Kinsey’s body react to mine is a high I can’t explain. I don’t even care if I get off myself, though I know I will, because making her shudder is a rush all its own. Something I’ve never felt before.

  I’m losing control with her. I don’t know how or why, because I’ve been extra careful. But it’s there, glittering around the edges of my vision like an ominous blackout. The harder I take her . . . the deeper I connect with her physically . . . the more I slip.

  The scary thing—the really fucking terrifying thing—is that I like it. I like it a whole fucking lot.

  Pressing my lips to her temple, I close my eyes and breathe her in, letting her sweetness permeate my head and my lungs. The pressure in my balls and at the base of my spine builds fast and then I’m there, blood rushing in my ears like thunder.

  “Ah, fuck, baby . . .” One hand splayed across her chest and the other digging into her hip, I come, giving her everything I have and then some.

  As sated as my body feels, I know in my gut that this can’t happen again. Being with Kinsey tempts the beast that lives inside of me—just like it did him—and I can’t let that monster surface.

  I actually care about this girl and if I were to hurt her in any way . . .

  Pulling out, I spin her around, cradle her face in my hands, and kiss her hard. I’m sorry, princess. I thought I could play this game with you and keep you safe, but I can’t.

  Kinsey’s fingers creep up my chest, until they curve around my neck, holding me close. Her touch is so damn gentle. So damn soft . . .

  She’s too fucking good for me. Always has been and always will be, regardless of whether or not she has a wicked side, too. Her demons and mine aren’t in the same league, not by a long shot.

  “You okay?” she asks quietly, when I pull back. Her warm hands slide down my arms and those gorgeous eyes smile up at me, completely unaware of how fucking dangerous I am.

  “Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat and yanking up my jeans. “You?”

  “Perfect. That was . . . intense.”

  No shit.

  “Hey . . .” She grips my chin between her fingers and turns my face back to hers. Those brown eyes aren’t smiling anymore. “What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?”

  “Nothing.” I shrug if off and take care of the condom with a couple of tissues from her desk.

  “Trent . . .”

  Damn it, why does she have to sound like she actually cares? Like she’s truly worried about my fucked up thoughts?

  “Princess, I’m fine.” I shoot a wink over my shoulder and toss her pants to her. “That was good. Unexpected, but good.”

  The frown between her eyes says she’s not buying it, but she lets it go anyway. Ten minutes later, I’m on a ladder with my head and hands in her ceiling. An hour tops, and I’ll have her cameras fixed, which means my time with Kinsey is officially on the downslide.

  For her sake, I hope it goes fast.

  Trent barely speaks twenty words to me while he fixes the camera wiring. I’d like to think he’s trying to work as quickly as possible so he can get out of here before we get busted, but that doesn’t explain the way he held onto me in my office. Or the strange—almost scared—look in his eyes afterward.

  His outright claims of being an ass have been frequent enough that I’ve started to wonder who he’s actually trying to convince—me or himself? Yes, he has some jerk-ish tendencies, just like I have my snappy, bitchy ones. But behind the badge, he really is a different man. There’s so much more to him than meets the eye and the glimpses I’ve seen of that mysterious persona are intriguing. And incredibly, incredibly sweet.

  I felt it today when he buried his face in my hair as he came. He kissed me like he was trying to prove something, and I’m not sure what the hell that is, because I already know everything I need to.

  I like him, and I wouldn’t mind if we started to have something more than just sex.

  “All done,” he says, turning my laptop around to show me that all four of the cameras are up and running. “Was an easy fix. The wiring to the main camera was fried and replacing that alone brought the system back up. I still went ahead and changed out the others just in case.”

  “Thank you.” I want to kiss him and show him how much I appreciate the effort, but I keep my distance, because he’s giving off that untouchable vibe again.

  “No problem.” He flashes a smile that doesn’t meet his e
yes while he stuffs his tools back into the shoe store bag. “You said she works on Tuesday?”

  “Yes, and she closes up alone, so I think we’ll get what we need.”

  “Good. Call me Wednesday morning and let me know. I’ll come by and check out the footage and we’ll go from there.”

  Outside, it’s probably ninety degrees, but the climate between Trent and me has gone from desert hot to Canada cool in a matter of an hour. He won’t even look me in the eye for more than two seconds and, despite knowing full well what we’ve been doing wouldn’t last, this sucks.

  “What do I owe you?” I ask quietly, reaching for the store’s checkbook.

  “Don’t worry about it, Kins. I’m a public servant every other day of the week, might as well consider this just another part of the job.”

  Great. Just the category I want to be in. He doesn’t want to be friends, and now I’m a fucking job.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I try not to be bitter. “Thanks again. I really appreciate it.”

  “Sure thing.” He rubs a hand around the back of his neck and tips his head toward the door. “I’m going to head out. Call me Wednesday, okay?”

  I can still feel his hands on me. I can still taste the hunger in his kiss. I can still feel him buried inside of me, giving me something that no one else has before.

  And he’s walking away like it never happened.

  What’s worse . . .

  I let him go.

  There’s still a full quarter left of the game and probably enough food at my mom’s to feed an army, but I can’t bring myself to go back. I should, because spending football Sundays with her has been an unspoken tradition for the last twenty-four years. A way for the four of us to come together in solidarity, just like we did back then, when the cops hauled my old man out of bed with blood from the night before still on his T-shirt.

  That afternoon wasn’t the first I’d seen my dad in cuffs. It wasn’t the first I’d seen blood on his clothes, either. Usually, it belonged to Trav or me, and sometimes Mom when Trav or I couldn’t get between them fast enough.