Dangerous Desires

by Dawn Altieri

  “You’re probably right,” she said, hanging her head. “I guess I’m just trying to find something that feels normal in the middle of all this. But I don’t want to make you do anything inappropriate or unprofessional.”

  He’d never felt more compelled to be unprofessional in his entire career.

  “Look,” he said, “you’re under a lot of stress, and I would never take advantage of that. I got carried away again, but I swear, I can control myself. No matter how hard you’re trying to make it.”

  She tipped her head, and that spark in her eye returned at the double meaning behind his words. “How many episodes of meaningless sex are we talking about?”

  He scoffed a laugh, unnerved by her direct question and the determination in her voice. “Not that many, really. I was exaggerating to make my point.”

  “You’re sure about that?” she teased.

  Ah, if only he were. “What? You’ve never had meaningless sex before?”

  The look of mischief disappeared, and a hint of shyness flashed in its place before she glanced down at the floor. “I’ve only been with Justin.”

  “Really?” Christ, he wished she hadn’t told him that. “Well, then. You’ve just proven my point. You deserve better than anything I can give you. We come from two completely different worlds. Mine is all gang members and drug deals gone bad.” Scumbags like the prick who attacked her. The kind of people she should never have to worry about. “Yours is… Well, yours is the exact opposite of all that.”

  She said nothing, and a sour burn slid straight into his stomach. He wanted her to argue, to tell him she didn’t care about the obstacles, to tell him she felt the same intense connection he did and wanted to pursue it. Obviously, she didn’t, or she wouldn’t be agreeing with all the bullshit he was telling her. And if he believed they had a shot in hell together, he wouldn’t be saying any of it in the first place. He had to shut this down before he got himself into any more trouble. He’d jeopardize the whole investigation if he let things go any further.

  “Anyway. There’s really no room in my life for a relationship right now,” he went on. “The next few years could make or break my career, so it’s kind of important for me to keep my head in the game. And the truth is, I could never make you happy. Not in the long run.”

  “Who says there needs to be a long run?” she asked softly.

  “What?” His voice cracked in surprise.

  “What if I don’t care about all the reasons we can’t be together?” Her heated gaze returned to his. “What if I just want to be with you right now? And to hell with the future.”

  His body may have jumped at her words, but his brain flooded with uncertainty.

  Okay. Maybe he was wrong. She was single, too, with no one to answer to. Maybe she really wanted no strings attached.

  There was only one way to find out.

  With one hand tangled in her hair and the other splayed across her lower back, he slid her to the edge of the counter and took her mouth once more. Her hands moved over him, greedy fingers sliding from his stomach to his chest, yanking his T-shirt up and over his head. He moved between her legs—his glaringly obvious arousal pressing against her thigh—and a near-growl escaped him.

  “Damn. Bringing you out here all alone was definitely not a good idea.”

  “If you’re trying to convince me to stop you, you’re not doing a very good job.”

  It was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. He caught her mouth in another searing kiss that did little to help his situation down south. Damn it, why was he torturing himself like this, starting something he knew he couldn’t finish?

  He would not fuck her. Not like this. Probably not ever.

  But he just couldn’t make himself stop.

  He trailed his tongue along the smooth skin of her collarbone until he reached the strap of her sundress. It fell easily off her shoulder, exposing the tiny bow that held the strings of her bikini top together. The knot gave way with a tug of his teeth, drawing a gasp from her as the ends slipped apart. She wriggled her arm out of the shoulder strap, baring her perfectly rounded breast to him. He covered the luscious curve with his mouth and rolled her nipple with his tongue—not too rough, but not particularly gentle. She propped herself up with one hand while she wrapped the other around his neck, and an encouraging purr reverberated through her as she arched farther into him.

  “Jake.” Her fingertips pressed into his shoulder and her nails pinched his skin. “Touch me.”

  He froze as he realized what she was asking of him.

  “Please.” She sounded as though she could hardly form words.

  He would not fuck her. He had to keep reminding himself because by now, based on all his experience in the past, his dick definitely had other ideas. For once, his dick would have to wait.

  He returned to her mouth and dove in deep, and she matched him stroke for stroke with her tongue. He dragged his fingers along her thigh, sliding the skirt of her sundress up to her waist where he found another one of those tiny string bikini knots that fell apart far too easily. He grazed her stomach on his way to deal with the one on the other side, and her taut muscles jumped beneath his touch. So she was ticklish. He’d file that nugget of info away for another time. If there ever was another time. But he wouldn’t dwell on that now.

  There was no room for regret here—not that he could possibly feel a morsel of regret over what she was letting him do—but he had to make sure she felt the same. He took his time, eased the fabric aside and cupped her soft curls with the heel of his palm in just the right position.

  She broke away from the kiss as if she couldn’t concentrate on it anymore, panting as she pressed her cheek to his.

  “More,” she breathed against his skin as her hips pulsed against his hand.

  It was all the permission he needed.

  He dipped a finger inside, and her muscles clenched hard at the intrusion. So tight. Tight enough to convince him she wasn’t lying when she said she hadn’t been with anyone but her fiancé three years ago. Soon, her body relaxed in acceptance, and he began a slow glide, in and out. The hard peak of her breast scraped against his chest, making him want to tear away the rest of the clothing between them, lay her down right on the dingy linoleum floor, and feel every inch of her against his skin.

  This woman he’d convinced himself would be smug and reserved was shedding her defenses in the most intimate way possible, and it blew him away. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d let this fantasy play out in his mind, but nothing he’d ever imagined came close to the reality. The smooth velvet of her skin, the sweet taste of her mouth, her wet heat pulsing around his finger…he still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here, or what the hell it all meant, but the sting of her fingernails in his back erased his motivation to question it. His own need was totally eclipsed by the intense need to satisfy her, and that was a feeling he’d never experienced before.

  Her soft moans urged him to increase his pace, and soon her movements became frenzied. Her hips bucked, driving his finger deeper into her hot flesh. He pressed his palm firmly in place, giving her the friction she needed to shatter into a million pieces against his hand. She let out a surprised gasp, a sound he swallowed with another all-consuming kiss as she rode out the wave beneath him.

  He gradually straightened, and she came up with him, clutching his shoulders with her face buried in his chest while she caught her breath. He slowly slipped out of her, pausing as her body twitched, gripping him again and refusing to let go. She lifted her eyes to his, trailed a finger down his belly, and looped it into the waistband of his shorts. He should’ve stopped her, but rational thought flew out the window as she deftly popped the button of his fly.

  His cell phone vibrated on the countertop, and he cursed under his breath as he read the screen. “Damn it. It’s Mack.”

  The color drained fro
m her face as she peered up at him, and he refastened his shorts and glanced toward the back door. He needed to take the call in private. He wanted to keep her up to speed on the case, but he had a bad feeling about the info Mack would have for him.

  “Go ahead,” she said as she scooped her sundress against her chest and jumped down from the counter. “I need to freshen up.”

  He watched her as she disappeared into the bathroom, and then he stepped out into the backyard and connected the call. “Mack, what’s up?”

  “Hey, buddy.” His voice was low and deep, a tone that told Jake he’d been right, the news was bad. “We got another Jane Doe. Mid-twenties, same profile. Looks like another strangulation.”

  “Shit,” Jake muttered. “Where?”

  “Sullivan, half a block south of Houston.”

  A few blocks from the cell tower the call had come from last night. Just a few blocks from Donnelly’s Pub. A cold chill ran through him.

  “We’re waiting on the ME, but we could really use you on this,” Mack said.

  “Yeah, okay,” Jake said. “I’m at the Bayville house, out on the Island, but I’m on my way.”

  He disconnected the call and glanced toward the house. He should tell her. And he would. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it right now, so soon after she’d let down her guard with him. He wanted to keep all of it away from her somehow, if only for a little while. To protect her from the worst of what was happening while keeping her safely out of harm’s way. Separate worlds, he reminded himself.

  He found her in the living room, studying his family’s photos again. “Any news?” she asked, her expression marred with concern.

  “No.” He was a piece of shit for lying to her, but as selfish as it was, he’d do anything to avoid making her cry again. “Mack wants me to head to the precinct to go over a few things so I’m up to speed for the morning briefing. No big deal.”

  But it was a big deal, a really big fucking deal. Another victim. He had to tell her.

  He lifted a hand to her cheek, wanting nothing more than to taste her soft lips once more. Mack’s call had saved him from passing the point of no return, no matter how much he wanted to. But he couldn’t bring himself to look into those beautiful, trusting eyes and tell her another woman who looked just like her had been found raped and murdered in an alley with goddamned flower petals all over her.

  He’d tell her once they got back to the city. That would be soon enough.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As the sun prepared to set on an otherwise perfect day, Emma sat quietly in Jake’s passenger seat for the ride back to the city. Now that she’d spent some time at his beach house, she understood why he hadn’t wanted to get rid of the place. The sun on her skin out on the pier had felt divine, and the meditative setting trumped her midtown yoga class any day. It was the perfect escape from the city, from her attacker, from that gruff voice on the phone. The voice of a man who had likely murdered someone else last night simply because the woman reminded him of her.

  Who could be doing this? Who could be so obsessed with her they would kill other women to get her attention? It couldn’t be someone she actually knew. She had to believe no one in her life was capable of this. Someone must have targeted her for whatever reason, gotten his hands on her personal information to torment her. You could find anything on the internet these days.

  There had to be something the police could do to stop him. Would there be developments soon? New crime scene footage on the news? A photo of another woman with long brown hair who’d been brutalized?

  Emma’s stomach roiled, and she pinched her eyes against the tears that threatened again. There was no way to escape the horrors running through her mind…even though Jake had provided a much-needed distraction.

  She could only hope he found this madman before he struck again.

  She stole a glance at Jake, trying hard to push the stress of the last few days out of her mind. She saw the vigilance in his eyes as he scanned the road and the rearview mirror, the determined set of his jaw as they got closer to the city. He would protect her, if she’d let him. She wasn’t sure why, but she was beginning to believe it.

  And starting to believe he really did care about her.

  Her heart sank even further.

  She needed to banish the idea of a future with him. Meaningless sex with countless women… How could she compete with that?

  Why would she even want to? She’d tried to pretend she could handle something casual, but regrets and embarrassment were already seeping in. Compared to the myriad of free-spirited women he’d likely already been with, she must’ve seemed about as exciting as an afternoon in a convent. Add in the threat of sabotaging his investigation and costing him his job, there was no way Jake Quinn would consider a relationship with her.

  And she didn’t want a relationship with him. She had to keep reminding herself of that fact. He was obviously a person who liked to be in complete control, and she’d had more than enough of men like that. Besides, he admitted he spent most of his time with gang members and drug dealers…thugs who would have no problem turning their aggression against him while he fought to get them off the streets. How could she let herself care for someone she could lose so instantly and unexpectedly, just as she’d lost Justin?

  Well, she wouldn’t have to worry about that. Jake had made it perfectly clear that nothing real could happen between them…despite what they’d just done in his parents’ kitchen, and despite the childhood memories he’d shared with her—memories the likes of which she dreamed of creating with a family of her own someday. He was right; it would never work. They were too different. A high-powered New York City homicide detective was not the right kind of man to create cozy family memories with.

  She needed to stop mistaking his efforts to set her at ease for more than what they were—his attempt to solidify her as a witness. If she didn’t put thoughts of an impossible future out of her head, things would only be harder when the case wrapped up and she never saw him again.

  He slowed the SUV to a stop outside her building and grasped her hand across the center console. “I’m sorry we had to cut the day short.”

  “It’s okay.” She struggled for a playful smile. “It’s not like it was a date, or anything.”

  He responded with an uneasy grin of his own. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. You scrubbed my toilets. I at least owe you dinner.”

  Her unexpected laughter filled the car. “Well, they really needed it.”

  “Yeah, I guess they did,” he said with a chuckle. “You look exhausted. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  They made their way up to her apartment, but when she unlocked the door and opened it a crack, a light shone from inside and muffled voices rose from the living room. She froze for a moment and then turned back to Jake.

  He reached for the weapon he’d returned to its usual spot on his hip before they’d left the cottage in Bayville. With the barrel pointed downward, he pushed the door open, using his other arm to shove her behind him.

  A man sat in the living room on the edge of the sofa with his elbows on his knees and the television remote in his hands.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Ben.” Emma jetted out a sigh of relief behind Jake. “What are you doing here?”

  Jake loosened his grip on his Glock and let her pass as his burst of adrenaline waned. Benjamin Windsor was on her in an instant, engulfing her in his arms so tightly, Jake had to resist the urge to intervene.

  He hadn’t seen Justin Windsor’s brother in years, but it would’ve been hard not to recognize him. With his athletic physique and short blond hair, he had the same boy-next-door looks as the rest of the men in the Windsor family, but the younger brother exuded a more menacing air, had a more overbearing presence. A presence with which Jake was all too familiar.

  “I’ve been trying to call you for h
ours, Em,” Windsor said, his chin planted atop her head as he held her. “Where the hell were you?”

  “I was…out.” She eased away from him, glancing at the counter separating the living room and the kitchen where her cell phone sat plugged into its charger. “I guess I forgot to bring my phone.”

  “Detective Quinn?” Windsor’s countenance shifted drastically as he focused on Jake. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, ruling out any chance of a polite handshake. “What are you doing here?”

  Emma moved between them, wringing her fingers together as if she really didn’t want Jake to answer him. “Jake is working on an investigation, and he had some questions to ask me.”

  “Jake?” Windsor’s suspicious stare returned to Jake. “Well, of course. No need for formality since we’re all old friends, right?”

  Jake clasped his hands behind his back in restraint and remained silent. Aside from Windsor’s stony look of confusion, Jake sensed a hefty dose of anger, and he couldn’t say he blamed the man—though not nearly as much as he blamed himself.

  “What investigation?” the other man demanded.

  Emma hesitated. “I’ll explain later. What are you doing here, Ben?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about Justin’s car,” Windsor said, his focus still locked on Jake. “But I can leave if this is a bad time.”

  “No, it’s fine,” she said. “It’s just…” Her voice trailed off, and Jake followed her gaze to the television where a news reporter stood in front of a string of yellow police tape. “What’s happened?”

  Ben glanced toward Emma, his forehead marred by a questioning crease. “That? Another murder.”

  Emma gasped.

  Shit. This was not the way Jake had wanted her to find out. Why the hell hadn’t he told her in the car?