Claiming London

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Claiming London Page 11

by Becca Jameson


  “I didn’t say this was going to be easy. It’s not. I’m just feeling you out, wondering if you’re up to the task. You’ve had plenty of time to know your mind. If you’re stringing her along, let her go now. You’ll hurt her. If you’re all in, then tell her. Push her into a corner and tell her. Literally if possible.” She smiled.

  “I am not stringing London along,” he ground out.

  “Good. I never thought so for a moment. Tell her.”

  “And when she turns me down?” A chill ran up his spine as he acknowledged a part of him hadn’t wanted to take the risk of alienating London entirely by forcing her to make a decision. He’d been chicken on that front.

  “Then you push harder, but eventually you have to either win her over or walk away. You’re so hung up on her that it’s palpable in a crowded room. Surely it hurts you when she brushes you off. Don’t you want to know once and for all, so you can walk away if she won’t risk it?”

  Rayne was right. Of course she was right. “Are you my counselor now?” he teased.

  She shrugged. “I’m just a friend. A friend to both of you. And I hate seeing two people I care about dancing around each other week after week because they’re too scared to take a chance.”

  He started to speak, but she lifted a hand, palm out, stopping him. “Don’t tell me this is all on London. It’s not. You’re scared too. She’s afraid of commitment, and you’re afraid of rejection.”

  Damn. She had a point. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “How so?”

  “My job is demanding. Look what happened last time I made a move on her. I got sent away for six months with no ability to contact her. That’s not fair to her. It’s also dangerous. My job can put her at risk, make her vulnerable. Hell, the other night when I took her to dinner, the perp I’m currently following was at the restaurant.”

  Rayne gasped. “Did he see you? Does he know you’re following him?”

  Pierce shook his head. “I don’t think so, but still, I don’t want London exposed in any way.”

  Rayne rose to stand near him. With her heels, she was closer to his height. “You can’t make choices for her. Any woman who dates a cop is taking a risk. London is the one who gets to decide if she can handle that risk. You can’t know her feelings until you’ve asked her.”

  “Doesn’t matter. If I’m not able to give her one hundred percent of my attention, I don’t deserve her. She deserves someone who will be there for her. All the time. Not part-time.”

  Rayne cocked her head to one side. “You were married before, right?”

  “Yes. Years ago. My wife left me because I was never home.”

  Rayne licked her lips and sighed. “I’m so sorry, Pierce. That sucks. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “I did. I was a horrible husband. Always absent. Never able to give my all.”

  Rayne shook her head. “You had a job to do. When people marry an undercover cop, they have to know he might go undercover.”

  “Yeah, well, they can’t imagine the strain it places on a relationship. London deserves better.”

  “London deserves to make that choice herself.”

  Pierce didn’t even bother to tell Rayne he was actively trying to fix this situation. If he didn’t manage to get the position, no one ever needed to know he’d applied. If he did somehow manage to change his world so that he was off the streets most of the time, then he could surprise everyone, including London.

  If what Rayne was saying had any merit, Pierce needed to set his job situation aside for the time being and work on convincing London to at least agree to an exclusive relationship that permitted him the privilege of calling her every day and showing up unannounced without making her hyperventilate.

  If he didn’t do something soon, he might lose her.

  He headed for the door to the office and turned back to face Rayne. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll think about it.”

  London was in a bad mood, which meant she was scowling at her customers all night at Joe’s. The regulars made light of her attitude, but the clients she didn’t know deserved better.

  Nevertheless, she struggled to shake her snappy retorts and lack of patience with everyone around her.

  Between class and work, she’d seen her therapist that day too, hoping the woman would help her get over herself and pull her shit together. She’d been too consumed with Pierce, and that needed to stop.

  The problem was her therapist disagreed. She suggested London give the man a chance, yammering on and on about how it was time for London to let go of her anger and date again. She’d warned London about the perils of entering into a relationship in which she was only willing to have sex and refused to commit. London’s therapist didn’t even know Pierce, and yet she suggested the man wouldn’t wait around forever.

  The advice hadn’t been welcome that day. What London had needed was for someone—anyone—to see her side and support her. That hadn’t been her therapist. How many times had the woman prodded London to articulate why she couldn’t commit to Pierce? Give the man a chance, she kept repeating.

  What was the worst that could happen? So what if he turned out to be an asshole? At least London would know. Running away and keeping him at arm’s length was only making London continually stressed out.

  Why couldn’t anyone see her side and leave her alone? Her life was fine as it was. She was happy. She did whatever she wanted whenever she wanted and answered to no one.

  You also sleep alone and have no real relationships. She flinched and spilled beer over the side of her hand as that thought entered her mind.

  “London.” The booming voice came from Joe, her boss.

  She set the overflowing beer on the waitress’s tray and wiped her wet hand on her jeans as she lifted her gaze.

  He was scowling at her. “Go home.”

  She winced. “What? My shift isn’t over.”

  “It’s close enough. It’s after midnight. You’ve been inside your head all night, anyway. The customers are complaining.”

  London swallowed and glanced around. The bar was full and noisy. No one was paying attention to Joe or her off to the side. “It’s crowded.”

  “Yep. I’ll finish up. You go take care of whatever crawled up your ass. Come back on Monday with your head on straight.” He held up the corner of the bar counter so she could pass through.

  She blew out a breath, shifting the loose hairs off her face before tucking a curl behind her ear. “I’m sorry.”

  His face softened marginally, and he nodded behind him. “We all have bad days. Get out of here. Get some sleep or make up with your boyfriend or whatever you need to do.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.” Why did men always think if a woman was upset, she was in a fight with a man?

  He lifted a brow. “Then who was that guy who came in last week and sat at the end of the bar, never taking his gaze off you?”

  She sighed. “Pierce. He’s not my boyfriend.” It pissed her off that Joe had noticed. She hated that Pierce had managed to visit where she worked and somehow mark his territory there too. She was beginning to feel like a dog in heat.

  Joe chuckled as he passed by her and gently shoved her out from behind the bar. He lowered the counter back into place and leaned over it toward her. “You might want to tell him that. I doubt he agrees.” He leaned closer. “You could do worse, you know. I know exactly who Detective Pierce Titus is.”

  She jerked, her eyes going wide.

  Joe narrowed his gaze. “It’s a bar, London. Shit has gone down here over the years. Sometimes the cops get involved.”

  She nodded slowly. “Right.” Of course. Duh. Even though she’d never seen Pierce in a uniform, that didn’t mean local business owners didn’t know who he was. Made sense.

  “Go.” Joe pointed toward the entrance and then turned around and took a customer’s order.

  London headed for the back room to grab her coat. She never brought a purse to Joe’s. There was
no reason to carry anything. She was shaking. Angry. Mostly with herself for letting Pierce get under her skin. She shouldn’t care about the stupid job or even if she got fired. She was only working at Joe’s to prove to herself she could do it and make a few dollars.

  Instead of walking back through the crowd, she exited through the back door, tugging her coat around her shoulders and then rounding to the front of the building and the street.

  It was only few blocks to her apartment. She’d taken an Uber every night since her lecture from Pierce, knowing he was right. But tonight, she didn’t feel like it. She was already outside, shivering. It would take longer for a car to pick her up than for her to walk to her apartment.

  The walk would do her good. The cold air would help clear her mind. So, she turned and headed down the sidewalk. It was late enough and cold enough that not many people were outside. On a night like tonight, people rushed into their destinations to get away from the bitter wind. The only people loitering outside were the smokers.

  Tugging her coat together tighter at her neck, she walked quickly.

  “Hey, babe.” The voice came from the right as she reached a street corner. “What’s a cute woman like you doing out alone on a night like this?”

  She flinched but ignored the catcall and kept walking, picking up her pace. Probably just some drunk guy. Harmless.

  No such luck, however. The guy jogged the distance to catch up with her. She watched him approach out of her peripheral vision. He was large, and two other similarly giant men were with him. The two of them were laughing, but neither of them moved to join their friend. They remained where they were, leaning against the side of the building, smoking, of course.

  London’s heart rate picked up, but she forced herself not to glance at the man as he sidled up next to her and matched her pace. “Where you going in such a hurry? Why don’t you come join us? We’re heading to a party.”

  “No, thanks. I have to get home. My boyfriend is waiting for me.” Her voice cracked, but hopefully she sounded believable.

  “Boyfriend, huh? He can’t be worth much if he lets you walk alone late at night in the city.” The man wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hauled her into his side.

  She was no match for his size and strength, so it wasn’t difficult for him to angle her toward the brick wall on her right and press her much smaller frame against the cold surface. He grabbed her chin with one hand and set the other palm flat on the bricks, his body pressing into hers.

  She held her breath as she got her first good look at him. He was over six feet tall, scraggly dark hair, a beard in need of trimming, and green eyes that danced with unwanted lust.

  “Aren’t you a pretty thing?” His breath reeked of cigarettes and stale beer.

  She swallowed, trying not to let him see her fear. “I really need to get home. Sorry. Can’t join you guys tonight.”

  He slowly smiled. “Come on. I promise you a night you won’t forget. Much better than you had planned with your boyfriend.” He spat that last word out, ensuring she knew he thought she was lying.

  “Can’t,” she insisted, hoping like hell he would let her walk away. She figured if she remained calm, maybe he would give up. He didn’t need to know she was panicking inside. “I work at Joe’s. You know the place? It’s just around the corner. He’ll be expecting me for the early shift tomorrow. I’m dead on my feet. Got to get some sleep.” Maybe if he found out she worked at the bar just a block away, he would think twice about attacking a local.

  He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t know that bar. I’m new around here. You can call in sick if we keep you up too late.” He smirked.

  Fear crawled up her spine. She fisted her hands at her sides, trying to flatten herself closer to the wall to avoid his breath. “I said no.” She needed to change tactics. Nice wasn’t working for her. Fight or flight kicked in. She lifted her hands and shoved at his chest.

  He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, tugging her back the way they’d come.

  A shadow fell over her from the side a moment before a voice stated, “I believe the lady said no.”

  London yanked her gaze to the side, shocked to find Pierce standing inches from her assailant.

  The man was larger than Pierce, but London knew there was no way he could take Pierce in a fight. He was too soft. And drunk. Though she prayed it wouldn’t come to that. The big guy chuckled. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

  Pierce took another step closer. “Denver PD if you don’t release her right this second and walk away.”

  The guy looked around and laughed again. “I don’t see no cops around here. Fuck off. Find your own woman.” He elbowed Pierce in the chest and wrapped a hand around London’s wrist and tugged her away from the wall.

  “Think again, asshole.” Pierce’s voice was low and menacing. In a flash he was holding out a badge. “I am Denver PD, and the woman you’re manhandling is my woman.”

  The guy froze for a moment, his eyes going wide. Suddenly, he released his grip on London and took a step back. “Jesus. Fine. You can have her. Good luck. It seems like she’s got a big stick up her ass anyway.” He turned and jogged back around the corner, out of sight.

  Pierce had a grip on London’s shoulders before she even turned her head back to face him. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Come on.” He slid one hand down to hers and hauled her along the sidewalk, not saying another word.

  She had to nearly jog to keep up with his pace, the intense fear from moments ago replaced with a new kind of fear. Pierce’s wrath. She was in no mood for a lecture and certainly not from Pierce.

  He still didn’t say a word as he took her keys from her shaky hand, swiped her key fob across the panel to the apartment entrance, and then rushed her inside. He didn’t speak as they rode the elevator to her floor, or even as he opened her apartment with her key.

  When he had them inside, he shut the door and handed her back her keys. “What happened to Uber?” His words were clipped.

  She turned away from him, headed for the kitchen table, and dropped her keys on the surface. As she was shrugging out of her coat, she kept her back to him. “Don’t need a lecture, Pierce. I’m exhausted. I need sleep. Go home.”

  “Not a chance,” he said from right behind her.

  When she spun around, she found he’d already removed his coat and draped it on her sofa. He was wearing black jeans, black boots, and a black turtleneck. It occurred to her that he’d undoubtedly gone to the club, found her missing, and headed for Joe’s.

  His timing had been perfect, but she didn’t want to argue with him. She set her hands on his chest and shoved him toward the door. “I’m serious, Pierce. I’ve had a shitty night that just ended even shittier. Thank you for being in the right place at the right time. I owe you. But I’m not going to spar with you tonight.”

  He took a step back with one foot and planted it, not moving another inch. Instead, he set his hands on hers and squeezed. He closed his eyes for a moment and then blew out a breath. “Why was your night shitty?” His expression was softer when he opened his eyes.

  “Because my mind wasn’t on the job, and I kept fucking up orders until Joe sent me home.” She blurted all that out before she could stop herself.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Where was your mind?” He tugged her hands down, set them on his hips, and then wrapped his arms around her.

  His proximity melted her a bit. It was irrational to be angry with him when he’d just saved her ass. Plus, he made it impossible to be mad at him when he was staring into her eyes, holding her closer.

  “On stuff.” That was the best she could come up with. Then she had an idea. If he wasn’t going to leave, maybe she could convince him to fuck her. A good fuck would chase away her bad mood and let her sleep like a baby.

  She forced what she hoped was a sexy smile and ran her hands down to his ass. After a quick squeeze of his cheeks, she slid one hand around to his dick. Her smile grew l
arger when she found it hard.

  He gritted his teeth, grabbed her hand, and yanked it back to his hip. “What are you doing, London?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m seducing you, so you’ll stop asking me questions. I’d rather be fucking than arguing.”

  “I’m not going to fuck you tonight, London. And I’m not arguing either. Just asking you a question. It’s called talking.” His voice rose.

  “Don’t yell at me.” Her face flamed, mostly from the embarrassment of being turned down. She didn’t want him to see her disappointment, so she jerked out of his grip and turned to walk away, heading toward her bedroom.

  She could hear his audible sigh. “I’m not yelling, London. I’m discussing.”

  She knew it wasn’t in her best interest to goad him, but she couldn’t stop herself as she tossed over her shoulder. “Guess that guy in the street was right. I should have gone with him if I wanted a fuck because my boyfriend isn’t even interested.”

  In a flash, London went from standing in the doorway to her room to flat on the bed. Pierce was fast. He grabbed her by the waist, held her back against his front, and dropped her face-first on the mattress. His much larger body pinned her down, one leg between her thighs, one hand on her head.

  For a moment, panic filled her. She gasped, trying to catch her breath.

  “Is this what you want, London?”

  She didn’t move, reminding herself this was Pierce, not Louis. Finally, all the fight whooshed out of her, the emotional and the physical. Her body went lax, and tears escaped her eyes. Unwelcome tears that immediately ran down her face and dripped onto the sheets.

  She hadn’t cried in months. Not since the night Louis had shown up at Colin’s house and been shot by the police. That night she’d completely fallen apart, broken and scared and tired. The next day she’d found the strength to fight for her life. She’d promised herself she would not let Louis steal another tear from her. He wasn’t worth it.

 

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