Cooper's Promise

by Liliana Hart

  Cooper turned down his police scanner—not that much was coming through anyway—so he could hear the rough crunch on brick beneath his tires. Something about the sound reminded him of his childhood. It was good to be home.

  He noticed the little shops were closing up for the night. Lights dimmed and the streets emptied as people went home to their families and little league practices. He passed the Sheriff’s Office and saw the unit parked out front. He could see Lane, his deputy, through the front window sitting behind the desk doing paperwork, the little TV flickering from the top of the file cabinet.

  But it wasn’t the sight of his office that made his heart pound faster in his chest. It was the sight of the little white compact car parked in front of the library across the street. Claire was still at work, and part of him thought it might be best to keep driving and meet her at home, but he pulled into the space beside her instead and got out of the car, locking it behind him.

  The Surrender Public Library wasn’t a huge building, but it was pretty. The rest of the connected buildings in town were a mixture of brick and clapboard siding. But the library was two stories of stone built more than a hundred years before, though its original purpose had been as a bank.

  The builder had carved faces along the roofline, and what Cooper’s grandmother had told him—as told to her by her mother—was that the builder had been wildly in love when he’d started the carvings. He eventually married the girl and continued work on the library, but as the years went on his love for her dimmed and turned to bitterness and hatred, as it was said that she was something of a shrew and quite difficult to get along with. So the face of his wife he’d been carving into the building once started as beautiful, but with each carving she became a little more haggard, until the last face he’d sculpted was nothing more than an unrecognizable monster.

  Cooper’s boots scraped against the concrete of the steps leading to the front door and it creaked as he opened it, the wood swollen with age. The hush of quiet was overwhelming—almost smothering—and he breathed in the scent of books and the new carpet that had been laid over the weekend. He’d never felt at home in a library or school, and those old feelings of inadequacy came rushing back. He’d been a lot better with his fists than he’d ever been with a book. And after his parents had died and he’d been discharged from the army, it hadn’t taken him long to realize he’d better learn to be damned good with his hands if he wanted to keep the family homestead from falling down around his and his brothers’ ears.

  The library was empty as far as he could see. The children’s area had already been picked up and everything was in its place. He passed by the front desk, thinking Claire might be finishing up in her office or cataloguing books, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  And then he heard her humming and frowned.

  They’d only been married for six months, but spending that much time with someone, you couldn’t help but pick up on little quirks or habits. And the only time Claire hummed was when she was worried about something. He wasn’t even sure she realized she did it. But it was always a nameless tune, slow and sad.

  He breathed out a sigh of relief. Focusing on her gave him the reprieve he needed. There’d always be time later to confess his own sins.

  Chapter 7

  Claire was a fool.

  And it certainly wasn’t in her personality to not confront situations head on, but that’s exactly what she’d done with her husband. She knew he’d been lying to her. And yet each time she’d look at him, watching and waiting for the truth, but it never came.

  She wasn’t so naïve to think that Cooper should share all his secrets with her. Being the wife of a cop was an adjustment, and she could see the burdens he carried, though she might not know the cause. And she didn’t expect to know. But she also hadn’t expected him to look her in the face and tell her he was going fishing when she knew damned good and well he didn’t need leather pants and his nipple rings to go fishing.

  Which brought her to something else that was feeding her insecurities. Was Cooper working undercover in the BDSM clubs like he had when they’d first become involved? Or was she not enough for him—not giving him those desires he craved—and returning to the sexual lifestyle he’d always lived?

  She’d never been a coward. It was time to confront him and get to the bottom of things. The only problem was he had to return home before she could do it.

  Claire replaced the last book on the shelf and stepped down from the ladder, and then she slipped her feet into the wicked black heels she’d gotten in France on her honeymoon. Her back ached and she was more than ready to call it a day. There hadn’t been a library patron to come in for more than two hours, and she was thinking no one would mind if she closed up fifteen minutes early. The fall and winter months, especially when darkness fell earlier each night, weren’t exactly great for boosting her numbers and proving that the library was worth saving. And the budget cuts most definitely showed it. Thank God the city library also doubled as the school library or she’d be out of a job.

  It was another problem for another day. She sighed and moved between the stacks of books to the stairs. Her heels echoed on the marble and the temperature cooled considerably since the heat hadn’t worked on the second floor since she’d been a child. Another one of those budget issues that was far down at the bottom of the list.

  Despite the cooler temperature, the upstairs was her favorite part of the library. It was easy to imagine it as it had been a hundred years before. Six large columns that sat two by two like sentries dominate the large open room. The floors were marble, and the glass windows etched so the view to the outside world was slightly distorted. Two long mahogany tables that were battered with age were used as study areas for students and drop chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

  The tables were clear of clutter and everything looked to be in order, so she crossed to the bank of light switches and began shutting them down, leaving on the two recessed lights over the tables so the room was cast in a softer glow.

  Headlights cut through the window and then passed by, and she moved closer to get a better look at the outside. The clouds were so thick in the sky she couldn’t tell if there was any daylight left, and it looked as if the street was empty. Her heart heavy and missing Cooper more every minute he was gone, she sighed and turned back toward the stairs.

  The only thing that kept her from screaming aloud was that it caught in her throat on the way out. Her heart thudded in her chest and her hand rested across her neck. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, but there he stood. Cooper always moved with an unnerving silence.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

  His voice rasped across her skin and she shivered. One sound—one look—was all it took to make her go weak in the knees. He had such power over her. Up until recently, she thought it had been mutual.

  Cooper was a big man, several inches over six feet, and broad through the shoulders. He wore a black long-sleeved t-shirt and olive green cargo pants, but even covered up it was impossible to miss the thick bulges of muscles in his arms and chest. His hair was thick and black, always a little too long, and his eyes were the purest blue she’d ever seen. He was the kind of man that made men take a step back and women get closer for a better look. And every inch of him screamed power.

  “When did you get back?” she asked.

  “I just pulled into town and saw your car. I thought I could help you shut down for the night.”

  When had they become strangers, she wondered. Or had they ever really known each other at all?

  Chapter 8

  Good intentions paved the way to hell.

  Cooper had had every intention of coming clean with Claire about continuing his undercover work with the DEA for the last month. But the moment he caught sight of her all his good intentions fell to the vicinity below his belt.

  The sight of her stole his breath. She was his fantasy come to life—had been since she’d been a teenager and started
filling out in all the right places. Her hair was pixie short and black as night, and her eyes were just as dark and tilted slightly at the corners. It had been hell to turn the other direction when those exotic bedroom eyes glanced his way. All those years, she’d never made a move, but her eyes told a different story. They undressed him slowly and made promises that were best left in the dark.

  But even though the sight of her made him harder than he’d ever been—made him want more than he’d ever wanted—he’d steered clear of her. For both their sakes. He liked his sex dark and rough—unconventional to say the least. And the women who played the game knew exactly what they were getting from him.

  He’d never met his sexual match until Claire. To say she’d surprised him by showing up at a BDSM club he frequented would’ve been an understatement. But the moment he saw her walk inside—outfitted in a black leather bustier and matching skirt that barely covered her ass—he knew his days of running were over. She’d been uncollared—a free agent—and intimidating as hell. He’d never wanted anyone who was his equal in the bedroom. He liked to dominate. To give orders. And there were times Claire let him get away with giving them.

  The thought made the corner of his mouth twitch, and his cock went hard as iron. But with Claire, turnabout was fair play. And it was the sweetest kind of torture to be under her control.

  He couldn’t read the look in her eyes—surprise, yes—but there was something else there he couldn’t put his finger on.

  She wore a black fitted skirt that stopped just above her knees and fit her like a glove, showing the curves of her hips and ass. Her red sweater veed in the front, showing the line of her collarbone and a hint of cleavage.

  Her mouth was lush and full and pink, and he was starting to get definite ideas that involved her kneeling between his legs and taking him deep. The outline of rigid nipples showed beneath her sweater and he could barely see the outline of the gold rings that adorned each breast. But then she crossed her arms over her chest, blocking them from his sight.

  “I thought you’d be gone another day,” she finally said.

  “I was ready to come home.” He took a step forward and she arched a challenging brow. He knew that look. And she had no intention of letting him play out the thoughts going through his head. But he was betting he could get her to change her mind.

  “How was the fishing?”

  “We caught what we needed to,” he answered vaguely. “Tossed the rest back.” And that was close enough to the truth.

  “Uh, huh,” she said.

  Cooper almost grinned at the irritation in her voice. He wasn’t fooling her for a second. No wonder fire was shooting from her black eyes.

  “I’m almost finished here. Why don’t you meet me at home? You can tell me the rest of your fish tales. I can’t wait to hear them.” If her voice had been any more frigid, icicles would’ve been hanging from her lips.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, arching a brow and taking another step forward.

  “I’m not in the mood for your games, Cooper.”

  “Liar. Your nipples are hard.”

  “It’s cold up here.”

  “I’ll warm you up.”

  She shivered and he took another step forward, stalking her, but she stood her ground. That right there was one of the things he loved most about her. Nothing intimidated her. And she never backed down. It made things very interesting in the bedroom.

  “This is a public library. Not your playroom. And anyone could walk in at any time. I’d prefer not to lose my job and be the talk of the town for the next fifty years.”

  He grinned. “If someone caught us having sex in here we’d be the talk of the town for at least a century. Maybe longer if they catch us doing what I’m planning. Besides, I’ll put in a good word for you if you get fired.”

  The pulse picked up in her neck and he could see the steady thump of her heartbeat. “Gee, thanks. But I think I’m going to pass.”

  “Take off your clothes, Claire. Let me see what you’ve got on underneath those very sexy librarian clothes.”

  She swallowed and took a step sideways, toward the stairs for escape. “I don’t think so. I think you and I need to talk.”

  He took another step, blocking her exit to the stairs. “We’ll talk,” he agreed. “But right now we’re going to fuck. Take off your clothes. I won’t tell you again.”

  His voice commanded, left no room for argument, and she knew the rules. Just like he knew when they got home it would be her turn to command. They had a deal, and neither of them would break it.

  The defiance in her eyes made his dick spike even harder and he unbuckled his belt and worked at the buttons of his cargos to relieve the pressure.

  “Time’s ticking, sweetheart. The longer you wait the redder that sweet ass is going to be.”

  Her fingers went to the hem of her sweater and she started to lift it over her head, but he interrupted her progress and said, “Leave the shoes on.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said insolently. But she did as he commanded.

  He held his breath as the sweater lifted higher, showing first her stomach and then the thin black bra. She pulled it over her head and tossed it on the back of one of the hard chairs that surrounded the big conference tables.

  Her fingers trailed to the side zipper of her skirt, but he shook his head and said, “No, get rid of the bra next. I’ve been dreaming about those gold rings.”

  She did as he commanded and flicked the front clasp of her bra. Her breasts were full and heavy, more than a handful, and she peeled the cups back slowly and then shrugged her shoulders so it fell to the ground.

  “Jesus, Claire. Look at you.” Her nipples were brown and tight, and the gold rings pierced through them begged for his attention. “What I wouldn’t give to have you home and strapped to the bed. To pull those rings tight until you’re whimpering for mercy.”

  She whimpered then, just the thought of what he described heightening her sexual awareness.

  “Finish what you started,” he said. “The skirt next.”

  Another flash of headlights cut through the big window and Claire paused with a gasp. They were taking a chance for sure. Anyone could be standing in the street, looking up at the second floor as Claire disrobed. The chances were small, considering Main Street was like a ghost town at this time of day. But it could still happen.

  “Afraid someone will see you?” he taunted. “Who’d have thought the Surrender librarian would have her nipples pierced.” He shook his head in mock surprise. “I wonder what other secrets she’s got hidden under all those prim clothes.”

  “Payback is going to be a bitch for this one,” she said, her voice husky with need.

  “I can’t wait. Now lose the skirt.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  “You’re damned right. And if you don’t watch that smart mouth I’m going to have to find something to occupy it.”

  She arched a brow and looked down at the bulge of his cock behind his briefs. “Promises, promises.” And then her fingers went to the zipper of her skirt and tugged, so it fell in a pool at her feet.

  She took his breath away. Black lace barely covered the juncture between her thighs, but it was the matching garter belt and lace stockings that had his mouth watering.

  “I thought you weren’t expecting me for another day,” he rasped.

  “A girl can hope, can’t she?” Her fingers toyed with the clasps of the garters. “What next, hot shot?”

  “I told you that mouth was going to get you in trouble.”

  “I sure as hell hope so.”

  He almost laughed, but the break in his control would have made her too cocky and he’d lose the upper hand. At least what small shred he had of it.

  “Turn around and bend over the table,” he commanded, his voice harsh. “And grab the edge with your hands. I don’t want any interference.”

  She gave him one last, seductive look and licked her lips, and he swore he felt t
he touch of her tongue along the taut flesh of his cock.

  “You sure you don’t want me to take off the garters and panties?” she asked, pouting prettily. Her fingers trailed up her stomach and then her hands cupped her breasts, weighing the heavy mounds and tugging gently at the gold loops.

  Cooper growled low in his throat. “Oh, no. They’re staying on until you’re begging for mercy. Now turn around.” He yanked his belt from the loops so it made a swishing sound, and her eyes widened with excitement. “I warned you about that smart mouth. Now it’s time to take your punishment like a big girl.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk and she turned around slowly, giving him a full glimpse of her body. It had been a matter of days since he’d had her last, but it felt like weeks. One more of those sultry, knowing looks and he’d be shooting off like a rocket.

  She looked over her shoulder at him as she bent across the dark mahogany table, her pale skin spotlighted beneath the lights she’d left on. Her hands grasped the top edge and she spread her legs wide, the wickedly high heels and the round globes of her ass making his mouth water.

  His footsteps sounded heavy against the marble floors and she shivered as he drew closer. He touched the leather of the belt to her ass gently and she tensed. The scent of her arousal made him weak in the knees, but he was in control. He wouldn’t give her what she wanted too soon.

  Just as she started to relax he snapped the belt against her cheeks, leaving an immediate red streak. And then he did it twice more in quick succession. Her head reared up and he could see the pleasure in her face. He traced his fingers over the raised whelps, feeling the heat there, and then he slid his hand beneath the flimsy lace of her panties and yanked.

  He let them fall to the floor and then stood back to look at her, open and ready for him.

  “Jesus, Claire. You drive me crazy.” She was soaking wet. He pushed down his briefs and took hold of his cock, squeezing at the base until he got himself under control.