by Katy Winters
So I decide I’m going to sleep in my jeans tonight. “Maybe we can go out again tomorrow. I had a lot of fun tonight,” I say honestly.
She smiles, yawning hugely. “I’m actually really tired,” she admits. “But I’d love to go out with you again tomorrow.”
“By all means,” I gesture at the bed. “I have an extra shirt if you want to sleep in that. I know date clothes aren’t exactly the kind of thing that you want to go to bed in.”
“That’d be great,” she says, and shortly after she disappears into the bathroom. When she reappears, she’s wearing my shirt—and it comes down to just above her knees. I can see the outline of her ample hips and her thick things and I stifle a groan, wanting to put my hands on her hips immediately.
She climbs into bed, definitely not creating a pillow wall, and I crawl in behind her tentatively. I lay on my back, trying to hide my somewhat obvious erection, and she backs up to me, on her side, until her ass is touching my hip. Fuck. “Make sure that I don’t sleep in,” she says softly.
If I had anything to do with it, she’d never get any sleep tonight. I close my eyes, managing a “Good night” as her breathing evens, and I listen to it for a long, long time before I fall asleep. All I can dream of is her—now, in the future, and forever.
I wake up at sunrise, squinting at the faint light, and realize that Jenny is literally on top of me. Her leg is over mine, her pelvis is grinding into my hip, and her breast is on my chest. It takes everything in me not to kiss her as she sleeps, her hair mussed and messy, her shirt—my shirt—rumpled and short. I don’t want to move—well, I don’t want to move away—and it kills me to slip out from under her. We’d talked for so long last night that I truly feel like I know her, and her sweet nature and beautiful body break my heart with longing.
I sigh, running my fingers through my hair and I pull on a fresh pair of jeans and a fresh shirt. I don’t want to leave her, but my client won’t wait. I came here for a reason—even if my ultimate reason is now the sleeping form on the bed.
She wakes up slowly, her eyes heavily lidded. She stretches luxuriously, and I can see her nipples poking through my shirt. Oh, what the hell…
“You’re so beautiful,” I breathe.
Jenny blushes, but I can tell that she’s pleased. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she murmurs, and her voice is low and husky. I wonder if she wants me as much as I want her. She clears her throat. “Where are you going?” she says finally, and my heart breaks at the sheer amount of loneliness in her voice.
“I have to investigate for my client,” I admit, before sitting down on the bed next to her. I can’t stop myself from stroking her side lightly, from beneath her breasts to her hip and back again. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I don’t want to be left,” she says quietly. “I really liked spending time with you. I don’t know what I’ll do now.”
“Well, I decided that your evening is booked. I’ve got one of the girls in my office coming over to stay with you; she was on the same assignment I’m on, but this is more important. I should be back by dinner.” I grin, squeezing her hand. “YOUR assignment today is to get your nails done, buy a dress with Sandra, and let her do...whatever it is you girls do, because I’m taking you out to dinner tonight.”
Her eyes narrow. “Who’s Sandra?”
I can almost feel the jealousy in the room and my heart leaps with pride and possession. “A very, very gay woman married to another very, very gay woman,” I reply slyly. I’d picked Sandra for this very reason—if Jenny feels even half of what I feel for her, there’s no way in hell she’d be able to think about me and another woman without violent thoughts.
“She’ll be here in half an hour,” I state. “Don’t you dare leave this room without her.”
She yawns and shifts her hips, leaning into my touch. I squeeze her hip lightly, testing, just wanting to see what she’ll do...and she shivers on the bed, eyes half-closed. “I don’t want you to leave,” she breathes again—but now, it seems to mean something else. I might not have won the war, yet, but I’ve at least won this battle—I know now that she wants me, too.
“Oh, hell,” she groans. “I don’t have any clothes. I can’t go wherever with Sandra in your t-shirt.”
“I took the liberty of guessing your size and sent her to the store before she gets here. She’ll bring you some shirts and pants.” I pick up my wallet and keys. “I’ll see you later, sweetie.”
She doesn’t protest the nickname at all, and I smile as I walk out the door. This is going to be an amazing evening.
Jenny
Sandra is about my size with dark hair and darker eyes. I’m glad I knew about her wife to start with—not that she ever stops talking about her wife—because she’s beautiful, and imagining her together with Devin makes me want to hurt someone. We drive into Niagara Falls and I marvel at how stunning the Canadian side of it is. I settle into her car wearing the tan skirt and brightly patterned shirt she’d brought me, and look out the window.
“So what can you tell me about Devin?” I say finally.
She grins, glancing over at me before concentrating on the road. “He’s an only child. He grew up in Ontario in some little town I’ve never heard of, and he lived with his mom until she died when he was twelve, and his dad until he went to college to be a lawyer.”
“Why isn’t he a lawyer?” I wonder.
“Because some dumb bitch messed with his head. He dropped out of school and then he ended up in jail for tracking down my ex-boyfriend and beating the shit out of him to give him a taste of his own medicine,” she said softly. “Our boss bailed him out after the DA told him how great Devin is at finding people that don’t want to be found. He’s one of our best agents.” She shrugs. “He hasn’t had a girlfriend since.”
Wow. I remember his strong biceps, his muscular chest and imagine what the other man would have been on the receiving end of. I can see Devin getting really angry, really quickly with someone who messed with a friend. “What did he tell you about me?”
“That you’re a school teacher, twenty-six, and that he’s pretty taken with you.” She pauses. “Your background check’s clean, in case you ever wanted to know.”
“You ran a background check on me?” I can’t decide if I’m angry or impressed. I stare at her, biting my lip.
“Of course,” she replies. “He’s my best friend, after my wife. And he hasn’t been in a relationship for as long as I’ve known him. So I decided to figure you out before things got too far.”
I sigh, rubbing my forehead. Devin’s friend is a little weird, I think. As much as I want him, I’m not sure Devin even wants a relationship. He called me sweetie, but was that how he really feels, or just an affectation? As I think about the hours that we’d talked, walked the Falls with each other, bonded and laughed, I faintly hoped that it was the former.
We walk into a store full of gorgeous plus-size dresses; it makes me relax to know that no matter what I fall in love with, they’ll have it in my size.
“You really care about him,” I say finally, touching the material of each dress on the rack.
“Yes, I do. And I wasn’t kidding when I said that he’s never texted me about a woman before. I don’t know why you needed rescuing, but whatever happened, he’s never going to let it happen again.” She frowned as I pull out a dark red dress. “Not that one, your boobs are too big. Show them off.”
I sigh, rubbing my forehead. “I was at the casino on the American side on a blind date. It, um…it didn’t go well.” I distract myself by burying my hands in the soft, silky fabric of evening dresses, looking for something blue to go with my green eyes. “Devin heard us arguing. Jason grabbed me, and Devin almost threw him over the observation deck.”
She frowns. “Well, he ended up texting me at four in the morning, and he’s not exactly a night owl. He told me all about you, and how interesting you are, and that he told you about his stupid cat, and I can guarantee you...he will neve
r let someone treat you like that again. And if you make him happy, neither will I.”
She’s dipping me in deep waters here. I’m beginning to have a feeling that Devin is in this for the long haul—and as much as it scares me to think that he’s jumping so quickly, it makes me feel warm, protected, not afraid. I know it’s more than a little quickly, but I feel like I know him, really know him. I offer up two different dresses for her evaluation. “I’m getting the feeling he doesn’t hear the word ‘no’ very often,” I muse.
She hums for a moment, tilting her head. “Try the one on the right, and this black one,” she says. “And you’re right. ‘No’ is not in his vocabulary very often...though I have a feeling that might change with you,” she grins, laying the dresses over my waiting arms. “If you can say ‘no’ to a bunch of little kids when you’re teaching, I’m pretty sure you can handle a man like him.”
Laughing, I walk into the dressing room, and she shoves a box of shoes under the door. I haven’t gone out with a girl in a long time, and it’s starting to look like I might have found a friend.
We decide on the blue dress with the keyhole neckline and black strappy heels that go to my knees. As we get into the car, I settle in to ask as many questions about Devin as I can possibly think of. I think about his promises; that I’m his, that tonight will be a good night, and feel a tight clenching in my lower belly just remembering his words. I smile, goosebumps running up and down my arms. “So what else is there to know about Devin?”
She glances at her watch and frowns, pulling out her phone. “Hang on,” she says, typing quickly. I wait, glancing at the bag at my feet, excitement thrumming through me as I bounce lightly on my seat. I can’t wait to see how Devin will dress for our date tonight, what he’ll take me to do; if I’ll make it through dinner without kissing him.
“We have to go,” she says abruptly. “Devin’s been shot.”
Chapter Four
Devin
My first thought is that Jenny might not have known me for long, but I have a feeling that she is not going to take this well. My second thought is to tackle the son of a bitch I’d tracked down from yesterday and keep him away from the wife that hired me. My shoulder is screaming as I pin down the fucker, hearing the sirens blaring from blocks away. I don’t mess around when I catch someone who’s been beating his wife; the police are called before I even get to him.
“This the guy?” the officer says mildly. “Oh, fuck, you’ve been shot!” he exclaims. He grabs his cuffs and slaps them on the guy before helping me to my feet.
“No shit,” I mutter and sit down heavily against the side of the apartment the creep was staying at. “His name is Jeremy Rent, his wife is pregnant, terrified, and sitting in my office.”
“It’s my baby!” he screeches, wrenching his body around in his handcuffs, trying to kick the cops who are attempting to put him in the back of the car. An ambulance finally pulls up, expecting Jeremy to have the shit beaten out of him—I’ve got a reputation—only to find me calmly bleeding onto the sidewalk.
“I don’t care if it’s your baby” I argue tiredly. “You forfeited that one as soon as you laid hands on your wife.” I can’t hear his reply because they shut the door on him. The paramedic heaves me to my feet. I’m so tired, and all I can think about is Jenny. She made me laugh so hard last night, and I can’t protect her from this—my job, myself.
“Text Sandra, she’s the first one in my phone. Please.” I lay down on the stretcher, resting my arm over my eyes to protect them from the bright lights in the ambulance. “My girlfriend is with her, they’ll want to come.” I can’t help but call her my girlfriend, can’t help but assign her paramount importance to my life. She was beginning to mean everything to me, and I couldn’t think of anyone else that I wanted at the hospital.
As I feel the ambulance begin to move, I succumb to fatigue. My last thought is that Jenny is going to kill me.
Jenny
“He what?” Shock feels like cold water pouring through my chest. It’s a stark realization that in the short hours I’ve known Devin, he’s become a part of me. I feel dizzy, wondering if I’m ever going to see him again. It almost scares me that I feel so intensely about someone I’ve just met, but there’s an undeniable connection between us, and it was only confirmed by sleeping in the same bed with him.
Everything snaps back like a rubber band as I breathe. “It’s fine,” Sandra says softly. “I mean, it’s not fine. But he’s swearing at the paramedics and he gave one of them his phone, so I think he’s okay. He’s been shot before...”
“This is not helping. Drive, please.”
I realize that I’ve never seen him naked, never seen his scars or his chest tattoo. Never gotten to kiss them, to learn them with my fingers. I close my eyes as we drive to the hospital, praying to God that she’s right.
We walk into the hospital together, Sandra showing her Ontario police department badge to the nurse in charge as she asks where Devin is. I follow on her heels, forgetting the date we’re supposed to have tonight, forgetting everything but getting to Devin. When we get to his door I skid to a stop, looking at Sandra in alarm. “What if he’s...what if...”
I hear his sleepy voice before I see him. “Jenny?” I almost run into the room, a single tear streaming down my face, and examine my man in his hospital gown. It’s almost funny; he’s too well-built, muscled and large to fit into the gown, and it looks like he’s trying to wear a child’s shirt. His firm ass peeks out from under the sheets and I smile, my hands hesitating over his body. “Where are you hurt?”
It feels like no one is in the room but us as he peels down the gown and shows me his shoulder, too near his heart for comfort. A thick bandage of gauze about the size of my hand is taped to his skin and I whisper, climbing onto the bed with him, trying to figure out where I can touch him. “Are you okay?”
He settles the conversation by pulling me down with his right arm, hugging me tightly against his body. “I’m fine now, pretty girl,” he murmurs against my forehead, kissing it softly. “I had a strange feeling that you wouldn’t take this well.” He hesitates, and I look up at him. “I don’t know what it is, but it feels like we’ve known each other forever.”
“What happened?” I whisper, burying my face in his neck. I’m encouraged by the fact that he’s not hooked up to many IVs or wires, nothing but a regular heart monitor and one IV. Hearing his heartbeat helped me to relax, helped me focus.
“I was looking into a guy who mistreated his pregnant wife,” he explains, stroking my hair gently. It kills me that I couldn’t protect him from this, when he seems like he’ll protect me from everything else. Every move he makes just accentuates the fact that now that he’s in my life, I can’t live without him.
“Let’s just say I found him,” he adds cheekily.
“I’d hit you if I wasn’t so worried about you,” I mutter crossly. “This isn’t funny.”
He chuckles, then winces. “It sort of is. I’ve gotten shot before, but nobody ever came tearing into my hospital room like her ass was on fire with the face of avenging angel.”
“Damn it, Devin!” I lean up and grab his face gently, pressing my lips against his and kissing him fiercely. My tongue darts into his mouth and his hand drifts down my body, clutching my free hip hard. He squeezes slowly, and I remember that Sandra didn’t buy me any panties as the flesh between my thighs become damp. He dominates the kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth, stroking mine lovingly, and I whimper, melting into him.
Sandra clears her throat. “So just to clarify, he’s fine,” she says unnecessarily. “I’m, uh, going to go. One of the boys from the office brought Devin’s car here—he’s parked by the ambulance bay.”
“Okay,” I reply absently, looking up Devin’s his eyes. He doesn’t look away, his gaze burning into mine. The heat in his eyes, the desire, and the love, make me shiver against him, forgetting how to breathe. “Promise me you’re fine,” I whisper. “I was scared.”
<
br /> He waves a little at Sandra as she backs out the door, looking amused. His hand wraps gently around the back of my neck, holding me to him, his lips against mine. “I’m fine,” he says against my swollen lips. “But I realized that that was our first real kiss.”
I nod shyly, blushing. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I murmur. “We just… talked, but...”
His hand loosens, stroking the back of my neck gently. “I know, baby. I can’t even think of someone else with you. You’re mine,” he whispers, leaning back to nibble my lower lip softly. “If anyone else even thinks about touching you, they’re going to pay for it.”
I shudder as he licks and suckles my lip, soothing the little stabs of concern, of worry that we were going so fast. I forget the time, I forget the place, I forget everything but the feeling of him kissing me until the doctor walks in, looking even more amused than Sandra had.
“Well, I was going to say that he’s fine, but I think you already figured that one out,” she says. “He’s very lucky. A few inches lower and he would’ve been in trouble.” She goes over to the computer and types a few notes. “I’m guessing you’re the girlfriend?”
I whip my head around to look at him, trying not to laugh. He gazes up at me sheepishly, putting his finger to his lips. I turn back to the doctor, not sure what to say.
“Okay,” she replies as if I’m a little slow. “He has to stay here for the next few days, but I’ve already written what meds he should have, so he should be good by Wednesday. Try to keep him from being too active for the next few days.” She looks us up and down, noting the way I’d wrapped my leg around his, his hand on my neck, my hand on his toned lower belly. “I’ve written your discharge papers for then; Mr. Powell, you’re free to go that morning. I see you’ve got a fairly competent...nurse there, and I trust you’ll be well taken care of.”