Breaking Bad (Bad Boys of the Bay #1) - Karin Tabke

Table of Contents Author’s Note Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Chapter Twenty-seven Chapter Twenty-eight Chapter Twenty-nine Read THE DARE (Book One in the Chronicles of Katrina) About the Author Discover Other Titles by Karin Tabke Copyright

AUTHOR’S NOTE

T hanks again to my fabulous team, Virna, Tina, Martha and Victoria! To the best readers on the planet; you asked for more hot cops, so of course I delivered! I’m so excited for you all to read BREAKING BAD, the first book in my Bad Boys of the Bay series. BREAKING BAD is based on the characters Jack Thornton and Stevie Cavanaugh from Wanted! These two have some kind of tortured history, and they drove me crazy as I tried to get them back together. Jack has a way with Stevie that will curl your toes. Stevie has a way with Jack that will put a smile on your face, make you shake your head but cheer her on. So, sit back and hang on for the wild, sexy ride as Stevie and Jack try breaking some bad.



“Y ou’re really going to do this?” Jack asked Simon for the tenth time since he’d announced his engagement last month. He still couldn’t come to terms with the fact that his best friend was going to settle down. To go home to the same woman every night. For eternity. He shook his head. Jack could never give that much of himself to anyone. His old friend nodded as he straightened his tie. “Nothing and no one can stop me.” Jack grinned. “I still can’t believe it, West. I remember all those years ago in boot. ‘No woman is going to come between me and all those other women.’ Sound familiar?” Simon smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, well, I was young and foolish.” They’d both been. Fresh out of high school and property of the United States Army. They’d joined together and served their four together. They had a bond shared only by those who stared death in the face on a daily basis. After their second tour in Iraq they didn’t reenlist, though their career paths continued to run parallel. Simon went to work for the Sheriff’s Department in the South Bay close to his family and Jack headed to Oakland, where the action was. Only his time with Oakland PD hadn’t been enough of a brain stretch. He’d wanted more of a challenge and went to work for the feds. “Kat is a hell of a woman,” Jack said. “The minute she walked into the briefing room, I knew you were fucked.” Jack threw his head back and laughed, then got serious. “Fuck that up and I’ll be the first one to offer her a shoulder to cry on.” He meant it, too. Dr. Katrina

Winslow was one in a million. A genius, hot as hell, and she had balls. The chick trifecta. “Not going to give you the chance, man.” Simon said, then looked at Jack and smirked. “What about that long drink of water you were drowning in back in the day? That sheriff’s daughter? Ever look her up?” Jack’s face tightened. So did his groin. Stevie Cavanaugh. The one that got away. Or more like the one he’d run like hell from. He’d done her wrong. But it was for the best, he’d told himself these last seven years. He still believed it. She had wanted too much from him. He’d seen it in her eyes. The way she spoke, the way she . . . Fuck it all to hell. She was better off without him. Because of what he’d done—leaving her after she’d given him what every guy in the academy wanted from her—she could only think the worst of him, and that’s what he’d wanted. It was easier not to have to hurt her again. And he would. Eventually. Far worse. But that didn’t mean he didn’t think of her. Because he did. Often. Too damn often. “Yeah, I’ve been keeping tabs on her through her captain. Russo was my FTO. He’s got his hands full with Stevie. She’s a pistol.” Simon slapped him on the back as he pulled on his suit jacket. “Does she know her captain’s feeding you intel?” “Hell no! If she caught wind of me being back in California, she’d hunt me down and saw my balls off with a spoon.” Simon slapped him on the back again. “Look, man, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but you’re a fool if you stand on the sidelines. It’s been what? Seven years since you were with her? And she’s still under your skin?” Jack swiped his hand across his chin and nodded. “Go after her, man. Do whatever the hell it takes until she surrenders. Then slap a ring on her finger and make it legal.” Jack shook his head in amazement and whistled. “I’m going to miss my old friend Simon, the beast.” Simon grinned. “I’m not. Now, tell me, best man, do you have the ring?” Jack patted the small velvet box in his trouser pocket. “I’ve got it. But there’s still time to run.” Jack would, despite how amazing Dr. Katrina Winslow soon-to-be Katrina West was. Jack was not ready to settle down. He was bad to the bone and liked it that way. No woman, not even the one that got away, could break his bad. “Not on your fucking life,” Simon said striding past him, a man on a mission. Suicide

mission if you asked Jack. Women in general were forgettable. Except the one itch he hadn’t been able to scratch out of his system.

CHAPTER ONE

S teven James Cavanaugh the Third had been born with ovaries, but her father refused to see her as anything but the son he would never have. From her name to her namesake’s omnipotent position as the Alameda County Sheriff, she had understood, from the cradle, that despite her being female, she would follow in the illustrious footsteps of five generations of Cavanaugh men to excel in a law enforcement career. Nothing less than chief or sheriff at retirement was acceptable. It had been drilled into her that as a woman she would have to work twice as hard for half the respect a man earned just by having a dick. There was no margin for error. It would shame the name. Despite his death five years ago, Sherriff Cavanaugh’s deep authoritative voice still droned in her ears. “Don’t be anyone’s gossip, Stevie.” “Never show weakness, Stevie.” “Never give anyone ammunition to use against you, Stevie.” “Identify your weaknesses and make them your strengths, Stevie.” And the hard, fast rule? The one to never break: “Never disgrace the badge, Stevie.” A slow cynical smile cracked her serious face. How disgraceful would her father think her behavior was as she sat here watching a suspected killer jerk off through a high-powered video camera? The smile faded. Not at all, because the shame would not be that she was watching a naked

man pleasure himself, but that she had not made an arrest in one of Northern California’s most notorious murder sprees. The pressure to make an arrest infused every facet of her existence. It hung around her neck like a thousand-pound yoke. No one pressured her more than herself. Nervous she would get caught gawking, she pulled away from the camera she had been looking through, glanced over her shoulder and let out a small sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was to give anyone, especially the men she worked with, a reason to rib her. She’d earned the Iron Maiden moniker because everything about the term was true about her. She was hard, cold, and impenetrable. And if anyone got too close? They felt the sharp bite of her resolve. She’d worked her ass off, graduating as high school valedictorian a year early. She’d earned her bachelor’s before she was twenty. On her twenty-first birthday, she entered the police academy. Of course the sheriff’s daughter graduated top of her class. Nothing less was acceptable. She’d accomplished so much by graduation that she felt like she was eighty, not almost two years out of her teens. God, she had been so serious then, and for all of her knowledge and accomplishments, so very naive when it came to men. She was smarter now. The scar tissue entwined around her heart was a reminder of the consequence of trust. It was the kind of scar tissue that resulted from giving yourself over to a man who had shone his light on the darkest part of you. A part of you that you didn’t know existed until he revealed it. A part of you that, once tapped, changed everything. The way you saw the world. The way you lived. The way you trusted. Or would never trust again. He had shown her the light only to take it away. Stevie settled back into the camera and watched her subject stroke himself. She’d been accused of being frigid because she didn’t date, much less flirt. Stevie wasn’t frigid. Jack had shown her she was far from it. She wasn’t antisocial either. She was simply not interested in any type of relationship. Even the most casual. For a relationship to work, she would have to expose herself once more. That would give people power over her. She would never hand over her power. Not again. She sure as hell liked to tempt fate in other ways, though. Stevie lived on the physical edge of the tightrope of life. She got her rocks off jumping out of planes, climbing mountains, and chasing bad guys through the mean streets of Oakland.

But she didn’t do emotional. Jack had made quick work of that. Had she adhered to the Cavanaugh Commandments, her heart would still be intact. Yet, years later, despite what she knew, she still felt the sting of longing for the man who’d known what she’d needed even when she hadn’t, then left her in the middle of the night, taking her need with him. Nope, she made damn sure she wasn’t anyone’s water cooler hot topic. Since her promotion three years ago to detective, she didn’t have time for a relationship anyway. Her job served her personality well. She liked the structure, the physicality, and the brain stretch. The best part was justice for all. She was black and white when it came to right and wrong. Smiling, she focused back on her subject who was getting quite comfortable with his naked self. But she was not so black and white in her tactics. She was never above the law, but neither was she below bending the rules. Her subject, Mario Vito Spoltori—or as he was known on the BDSM boards she haunted, The Edge, for his penchant for edge play—had turned to fully face her. The blinds had been pulled open over the large window of his bedroom so she had an excellent view of what God had so benevolently bestowed on the man. Spoltori portrayed himself as a quiet conservative stockbroker, but in reality he was a vicious misogynistic killer. This entire scenario playing out before her was a complete 180 from his regular “I’m Mr. Normal” behavior. “What are you up to, Mario? Why the show?” Spoltori’s known body count was three. All three women had been wives of prominent Oaklandites, the sitting mayor’s largest campaign donors. Each victim had been kidnapped exactly one week before the impending full moon. Each body was found the morning after the rise of the full moon, wrapped in Saran Wrap, mummy style, with only their genitalia exposed, and bloodless. It was the cut patterns that had caused the blood loss that had led her through the dark underbelly of extreme BDSM to The Edge. In the underground dungeons where he slithered, the cut patterns were his signature. But there was no DNA linking him to any of the bodies and he had airtight alibis for each murder. It didn’t matter; Stevie always listened to her gut, and it was what made her such a good cop. Her gut screamed he was the killer, so she set her sights on him while her team worked the streets. She’d been watching Spoltori like this, through a video camera, sitting in a stuffy ten-byten room from across the street, for nearly a month with nothing to show for it but the

monotony of a normal working Joe’s life. He was good at acting like a Boy Scout though he was far from it. Today he proved it. After tedious hours and days of watching the paint dry, she was awarded a peek at the man’s assets. Stevie wolf-whistled as he stroked his swelling penis to an impressive size; couldn’t really blame the women and the men who waited months for an hour of this notorious Master’s time. Spoltori was in excellent physical shape and not hard on the eyes. She suspected that to command such demand, he was very good at what he did. Warmth pooled within her belly. But the build was not for Mario. It was for the only man she had ever slept with, the one who’d ignited the fire in her seven years ago. She would have followed him to the ends of the earth . . . but after the culmination of months of cat-andmouse sexual tension so powerful it became painful, followed by one perfect night of surrender, he’d never called. “Prick,” she seethed, still not over it. Mentally she berated herself for her foolishness, although she’d been doing that for years. Shame at losing her rigid control and being sucked in by him was hard to set down and walk away from. She’d managed to keep the one-nightstand from her father. She would have lost his hard-earned respect. His perfect daughter was not so perfect after all. That would have made an already bad situation unbearable. So, yeah, Jack Thornton had done her wrong and if she weren’t an officer of the law, she’d hunt him down, cut his balls off, stuff them down his throat, and watch him choke to death. But she was sworn to uphold the law, not hunt down Lotharios like Jack. Shaking her head, Stevie leaned in closer and gave the self-entertaining Spoltori her full attention. Apparently it didn’t matter that he was standing in front of a fully exposed window with an unobstructed view of Broadway, a busy Oakland boulevard, in the middle of the day. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back and in long languid strokes he manipulated himself. Highly unusual behavior in light of what she knew about Spoltori’s public persona. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he knew he had an audience. Impossible. While his windows were transparent, the small office she’d begun to loathe had reflective film with the exception of one small square cut out for her ever-watchful lens. The only way he could possibly know he was under surveillance was if he had gained access

to this room, which he hadn’t. The security video feeds were reviewed daily. There had been no breach. Dismissing the thought, she continued to watch his show. His long tan fingers squeezed his burgeoning erection. Stevie winced. He was enormous. She knew from the gossipy chatter among the subs that The Edge never penetrated his client/subs with his penis. Nor had he had intercourse with the victims, yet all three victims had been penetrated with something. Slowly, provocatively, he began a slow grind. When he bit his bottom lip and splayed himself against the window, Stevie shook her head. “Jesus,” she breathed, unable to drag her eyes away. If she got caught . . . She glanced over her shoulder again, making sure no one had slipped in while she was so preoccupied. Exhaling a relieved breath, she leaned back into the lens for the denouement. Spoltori pumped faster, his eyes riveted straight at her across the street. The lens was so powerful that she could see the beads of sweat dampening his brow. His eyes narrowed and she knew he was about to come. She held her breath. “Hello, Stevie,” a very deep and very familiar voice said from behind her. Time stopped. Her spine stiffened as her breath lodged in her lungs. Her heart slammed hard against her sternum, the velocity shaking her to her core. And God help her, that longing ache that the sound of his voice had stirred all those years ago, stirred in her now. Hers had been, from the day he touched her in her first defensive tactics class, a spontaneous physical reaction to him. And as they had then, her breasts swelled as her nipples tightened painfully, triggering every body part south into carnal chaos. When she slowly turned around, the blood drained from her face as her worst fears were confirmed. “Jack,” she breathed.

CHAPTER TWO

S he had wanted to spit his name out as if she’d ingested poison, but it didn’t come out that way. Instead Stevie’s heart thumped high in her throat, strangling her words while she fought to control her visceral reaction to Jack. His hot gaze swept her in a long appreciative sweep, lingering a millisecond on her tightening nipples before continuing north. When his eyes finally caught and held hers, his nostrils flared. Intuitively she knew he was reliving their night together in his mind’s eye just as she had moments before. What the hell was he doing here? “Jesus,” she softly swore. This wasn’t happening. He looked good. No, better than good. He seemed taller, more muscular. Mature. Still dominant. All male. There was nothing soft about Jack. There never had been. Time had etched a few lines around those piecing jade-colored eyes that had bored right through her shield to her secret need. They crinkled when he smiled his natural mischievous smile. His hair was shorter, but still jet-black and thick. She knew it was soft, too. Oh, how she had run her fingers through it that night. Their one night. Their only night. She’d been dying to touch him for months at the academy, but when she finally got the green light, she’d reveled in the soft silky feel of his hair against her cheek, along her bare belly, and, finally, between her thighs.

He stood staring at her, that flirty boyish smile that got her every time tugging at his full lips. “It’s been a long time, Stevie,” he rasped, his breath warm and minty. Visions of their sweaty, naked bodies writhing in passion amongst the twisted sheets in her academy hotel room shimmered through her mind. Shame rose in her cheeks. Not for losing control, but for allowing this man to tap into her heart and not being strong enough to shrug it off. He bit his bottom lip and slowly let go of it as his gaze swept her heated face. “Too damn long.” She slapped him. Hard. The white imprints of her fingers quickly turned an angry red against his tan cheek. His jaw tightened for just the barest of seconds before he grabbed her hand and yanked her roughly against his chest, forcing her breath from her lungs. “Was that because I didn’t call you or because I wouldn’t let you get on top?” he growled. She caught a groan as another vision sprang into her mind’s eye. Jack was dominant. In bed and out. She had wanted to get on top, but each time she had tried, he’d raised her hands above her head and held them there as she gladly allowed him to take what he wanted from her. His voracious appetite, once it had been sated, had left her as helpless as a limp noodle. Her breasts had been tender for days, her kiss-swollen lips taking nearly a week to stop tingling, and the way the core of her had throbbed, wanting him to fill her again and again, had never subsided. It was her heart that had taken the longest to recover, because once Jack Thornton had penetrated the trauma plate protecting her most vital of organs, her heart, then tapped into her dormant sexuality, she was lost to him forever. He’d made her feel strong and beautiful. Protected and spoiled. She’d been Wonder Woman in his arms. Like a fool she’d allowed herself to think she had a future with him. The dynamic duo fighting crime during the day and making mad crazy love every night. How perfectly high school was that? She’d been such a fool. “No,” she breathed. “That’s because you were, and still are, an egotistical bastard.” “What’s so egotistical about making love to a beautiful woman?” “It was more like seducing a virgin.” She pushed away from him and yanked her jacket off the back of her chair, sliding it on as if it would protect her. “You were the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.” She made to move past him to show him the door, when he grabbed her

upper arm, stopping her cold. Swallowing hard, she fought to control the heat spreading through her. Jack pulled her closer. His natural spicy clean scent moved with him. It was the same as it had been all those years ago. Her pillow had smelled of him long after he left. Lowering his lips to her ear, he asked softy, “Do you remember the first time I touched you? In front of fifty recruits?” She shivered at the memory. “You mean manhandled me?” “It was the third week of defensive tactics class. I’d been watching you beat the shit out of every partner I paired you with. You were so eager to prove something to all of us.” His lips brushed against her ear sending waves of pleasure racing through her body. “I saw how you watched me, yearning for my approval.” His long fingers caressed her hand. “I wanted yours, too, Stevie, but not the way you wanted mine.” His fingers tightened around hers. “I called you out that morning, commanded you to drop to all fours on the mats. You dropped so fast, I think you shocked everyone in that room.” Deeply, he inhaled her scent. “Most of all me. I can still feel the way you heated and trembled when I covered your body with mine. The way your skin flushed pink like it’s flushing now. That’s when I knew your secret.” Stevie struggled against the truth. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.” “Does it scare you? What I know?” Turning away from him, she said, “I’m not afraid of you.” “Look at me,” he commanded softly. She shook her head. If she looked at him now he’d know she was lying. When she refused his command, he notched her chin up with his forefinger. Digging deep for control, she looked right at him, forcing her lips not to tremble as his breath softly caressed them. “Stop being so caustic, Stevie. You know it was good between us.” “It was mediocre at best.” “Liar.” Regaining control she shrugged. “I’ve had a dozen men since you and each one was better than that night with you.” Cocking a dark brow, he stepped back and released her. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Now, please leave, I have a job to do.” He grinned and shook his head. Stiffening she said, “I don’t know why you’re here, but if it’s to rekindle something, let me be clear about where I stand: We had a one-night stand and you weren’t man enough to tell me that was all you wanted from me. So don’t think you can come walking back into my life all these years later and pick up where we left off. I’ve moved on. Translated that means I’m. Not. Interested.” “I’m not here to rekindle our past relationship, Stevie, I’m here to build a new one.” Jack smiled that Boy Scout smile, pulled back the right side of his tailored suit and said, “Special Agent Jackson Thornton at your service, ma’am.”

CHAPTER THREE

J ack watched the shock register in the deepest blue eyes he’d ever lost himself in. Deep blue eyes that morphed from shock to controlled fury. Stevie looked good when she was angry. She looked better naked and out of breath. Despite her knack for downplaying her assets, she was a knockout. His reaction to her was as primal today as it had been when he first set eyes on her seven years ago. With that realization came another one: Manufacturing this meeting was a colossal mistake. “I don’t need your service, Special Agent Thornton. Go fight your own crime and leave me to mine.” Turning away from him, Stevie settled back into her chair and put her eye to the camera lens, dismissing him. When he made no move to exit, she said, “I don’t hear you leaving.” Jack hadn’t thought for a minute that meeting this firecracker again would be anything less than explosive. She was proving to be quite volatile. What he hadn’t expected was his reaction to her. The physical reaction was a given. They’d had that inexplicable once-in-alifetime chemically charged sexual attraction to each other from their first meeting, but when she turned around and caught her breath, he was speechless. He’d felt as surprised as she. Like he’d been gut-punched. The emotional hit he took at seeing her again shook him to his foundation. He didn’t expect it and he sure as hell didn’t like it. Instantly he regretted his

decision to head up the task force that had been formed to bring in Spoltori. She was going to launch out of control when he told her why he was there. Maybe he should just bow out while he still could . . . but no, that would be easy and Jack never did easy. He did rough. He’d get what he came for from Stevie, but he wanted Spoltori, too, and Stevie was the key to that door. “And you won’t hear me leaving until the DA charges Spoltori for three counts of murder.” He watched her spine stiffen. Slowly she turned in her chair, the fine bone of her jaw set at a hard angle. Pushing back her jacket sleeves, she stood so that her eyes were level with his chin. Tilting her head back, with calm he knew she didn’t feel, Stevie said, “This is my case. My team and I have been working it twenty-four-seven since the first body turned up three and a half months ago. We don’t want your help and we don’t need it. Go force yourself on someone else.” So Russo hadn’t told her about the task force? It wasn’t like his old FTO not to brief her. “I’m not going to get into a pissing match with you, Cavanaugh. Your chief reached out to us. We agreed to lend a hand.” He extended his to her. She took a step backward as if it would bite her. “Take it, Stevie.” “No,” she breathed. “As the task force leader, I insist.” Anger flashed in her deep blue eyes, but she kept her cool. “I’m not being kicked down to second chair on my case.” “It’s out of your hands.” Shaking her head, she grabbed her backpack from the tabletop next to her chair and slung it over her shoulder. “There’s where you’re wrong, cowboy.” As she moved past him, she said, “I’m not working with you.” Leashing the impulse to force her to stay didn’t come easy. But Jack held his ground. “I thought I trained you better than that, Cavanaugh.” She whirled around and speared him with her furious eyes. “You trained me all right. You spent countless hours tutoring me in the classroom, on the range, and in defensive tactics.” She strode back toward him. “You also taught me how to ride out an orgasm until my throat was raw from screaming.”

He forced himself to keep his hands at his sides. God, he wanted to sink his fingers into that thick braid of hers and take it apart as he took the rest of her apart. Stevie smiled slyly and he braced himself. “But you taught me my biggest life lesson to date, Jack.” She traced a finger down his pale green silk tie and leaned into his hard body. “What was that?” He breathed, inhaling her fresh tropical scent. “Trust no one.” He knew when he’d left her bed that morning there would be hell to pay if their paths ever crossed again. He’d felt bad about it, but there was more to it than she knew, and he knew if he tried to explain now she’d tell him to fuck off. “I’m sorry, Stevie.” He meant it. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. Hadn’t meant to run out on her like he had. But shit happened and now— here they were seven years later and the sparks were still there. He was fucked. She nodded. “You got that right. You’re the sorriest excuse for a man I’ve met.” Then she strode out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. He wished she’d slammed it. He preferred her outright fury over her quiet hurt. Jack swiped his hand across his chin. There were no perks for being the schmuck responsible for ruining such a force of nature as Stevie Cavanaugh. He should have stuck around to explain. But he was afraid that had he, he’d have stayed. Furious, Stevie headed back to the PD. Captain Russo had some explaining to do. Fifteen minutes later she barged into his office, soundly shutting his door behind her. “What the hell, Captain?” Twenty years her senior, Captain Russo was a robust, handsome man who took his job seriously. He was a solid leader, but damn if she was going to let him give her case away. “I take it you met Agent Thornton?” At the mention of his name her body thrummed with heat. He was still under her skin, damn it! If her captain knew their history he’d never have saddled her with him. Or worse, he’d pull her off her own damn case because the GD feds always got their GD way! “Why didn’t you tell me the feds were coming in? This is my case. I’m making progress.” “Sit down, Cavanaugh.” “I don’t want to sit down.”

He scowled. “It wasn’t a request.” She sat, but leaned toward his desk. “I’m not working with Thornton.” “You don’t have a say in this, Detective. That’s straight from the top. Chief Dougherty instructed me to give the feds whatever they want. They want you on the case, and frankly if they didn’t, I’d insist. You’re a damn good investigator with an instinct for Spoltori, and I know if given the time you’d wrap him up in a nice little bow for the DA. But there is no more time. The next full moon is two weeks from tonight. The mayor wants an arrest. Make it before the body count goes up.” “I’m close, Captain. I have several solid leads I’m working on right now, leads that will crack the case wide open.” “Then give them to Thornton. Give him whatever the hell he wants.” What did Jack want from her? He had to have known when he was appointed to the task force that he’d be working with her. Why? “You have no idea what you’re asking of me, Captain.” “I’m asking you to be the professional I know you are.” Stevie stood. “I’ll quit the case before I’ll work with Jack Thornton.” Captain Russo scowled as he considered her statement. “This isn’t like you. What’s going on here?” “Nothing—I—He’s arrogant and will impede the case. I can’t work with him.” Captain Russo nodded, then stood and leaned across his wide desk. “I’m going to make this crystal clear for you, Detective: Quit the case and you’re fired.” “You can’t fire me!” “The hell I can’t! For Christ’s sake, Cavanagh, you’re acting like a spoiled brat. The old man would turn over in his grave if he caught wind of this insubordinate behavior. Get whatever it is you need to get right in your head and make an arrest.” He nodded past her to the closed door. “You’re free to go.”

CHAPTER FOUR

S tevie turned at her captain’s orders and stopped cold. Through the glass door she watched Jack strut into the squad room like he owned the damn place. “Fuck me,” she cursed. “Say again, Detective?” Captain Russo asked. Exhaling she shook her head and said, “Nothing,” then pushed the door open and prepared for battle. As she stood outside her captain’s door, Stevie watched Donna, the squad secretary, puddle on the floor in front of the special agent. Stevie harrumphed. He was “special,” damn it. Desire seeped hot and quick to her nether regions as she gazed unabashed at her onetime lover. How many women had he been with since their one night together? Did he ever think of her? She drank him in, but would never admit to anyone she liked what she saw. He was taller than her five eight by a good half a foot. His linebacker shoulders supported a wide powerful chest that tapered down into a flat belly that she knew was as hard as granite. Her eyes dipped lower to the rise of his tailored trousers. Jack Thornton had not only been generously endowed but he had also been gifted the stamina of a prize bull. He’d made it impossible for her to entertain the thought of another man in her bed. It would be a lie if she said she didn’t crave what he did to her. That a night didn’t go by

that she didn’t think of the heat of his lips, the dominance of his hands, or the thick pulse of him inside of her. She’d woken more times than she could count, hot, sweaty, and hungry for him. She hated him for it. Hated him for making her ache for him. Hated him for ruining any possibility of a normal relationship with another man. Mostly she hated herself for still wanting him despite his cool dismissal of her. Donna’s giggles, as she looked adoringly up at Jack, rubbed Stevie in all the wrong ways. Donna was petite, blond, and curvy—Stevie wasn’t. She was tall, brunette, and lean. Donna was sweet and demure, the kind of woman men swarmed to protect. Stevie needed no protection. She was the protector, the kind of woman guys ran from. When Jack’s smiling eyes rose from the flirty secretary’s to Stevie’s, he grinned and winked. Her nails bit into the palms of her hands. Feeling suffocated in her own squad room, she strode toward him. Two steps before she would pass him he stepped into her path. “I’d like to meet your team, Detective, and introduce you to mine.” Stevie slammed his shoulder as she walked by. “My team is actually working, Special Agent Thornton, not cavorting.” Stevie wanted to add, with the local bimbo, but she didn’t, because as much as she wanted to dislike Donna for being comfortable in her femininity when Stevie was not, and for allowing the men to see her vulnerabilities, which Stevie would never reveal to anyone in the department, the woman was damn good at what she did. As she strode from the squad room she pulled her cell out and called her partner Oliveras. “Damn it,” she cursed when it went straight to voice mail. “Call me asap, Oliveras, I have a few unwelcome updates to share.” Shoving the phone into her back pocket she headed down the hall, bypassing the elevator, and took the stairway down two flights to the rear exit. As she closed her car door, it was yanked open. Special Agent Jack Thornton leaned in, grabbed the keys from her and said, “Move over.” “Fuck off, Thorn.” He yanked her from the car, catching her completely off guard. “I’m not fucking kidding, Detective,” he ground out. She slapped his hands away moving back to get into the driver’s seat. “Fuck you.” “Out of my way or you’ll be disciplined.” The blood drained from her cheeks as other parts of her flamed. Jack’s form of discipline was sweet torture. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would dare and then some.” He backed her against the doorjamb without touching her. “Go ahead and give me a reason to take you over my knee.” His eyes were hidden by the dark sunglasses he wore, but she could well imagine their intensity. “You’re not the boss of me,” she squeaked, knowing she sounded like a kid. “I am when we’re on the clock. And right now you’re going to ride shotgun.” Stevie swallowed hard, fighting the Jack battle on several fronts. Her pride refused to be bossed around by him while her body refused to settle down in his presence. Once again, she had lost the grip on her tightly held resolve. Stevie Cavanaugh didn’t do breathless disheveled, she did hard-core control. “Stop fighting me, damn it,” Jack said. “I can’t work with you,” she said, the words sounding like a forced plea. “I just—can’t.” “Can’t or won’t?” “Both,” she blurted. “Both are choices, Detective. Right now, I’d like you to choose to get into the passenger seat and drive back to the surveillance room with me and bring me up to speed on your case.” “I’d like you to choose to give me back my keys and step aside so that I can drive my car to the surveillance room so that I can get back to work on my case.” Stevie held out her open hand palm up. Jack shook his head, but placed the keys in her hand. When she moved to grab them away his big hand clasped around hers, sending wild shards of desire through her. She gasped when she realized he felt it too. “Because it means more to you to be in control here than it does to me, I’m choosing to give you the keys.” His hand tightened around hers as he pulled her toward him so that their warm breaths mingled. “But never misinterpret this gesture of good will as anything more than what it is. I’m in control, Cavanaugh. You will do as I say. Got it?” Stevie swallowed hard and nodded.

CHAPTER FIVE

A s she pulled into the underground parking spot two blocks from where Spoltori lived, Stevie threw the Crown Vic into park and exited the vehicle. Jack was out of the car and in front of her so fast she blinked. “Ignoring me won’t solve this case, Detective.” “Yeah, but it will solve me not having to converse with you,” she shot back, as she marched past him. She hit the car’s remote door lock and headed for the stairway to the lobby floor. A moment later, her cellphone wolf-whistled that she had a text. Most likely Oliveras. About damn time. She didn’t recognize the number, but the text left no mystery as to the identity of the person who sent the message. Looks like now we have each other’s number, Detective.

Stevie smirked. Continuing toward the building, she quickly texted back, I deleted your number a long time ago, Special Agent Thornton. Don’t text me again unless it has to do with MY case.

She heard Jack chuckle behind her and despite her pissed-offness, she cracked a smile. One thing for sure, the countless boring hours of this case were now a thing of the past. She

just hoped she’d survive the force of nature that was Jack Thornton. “You know you’re secretly relieved I showed up, Cavanaugh,” he said, catching up to her. “Don’t talk to me.” “There’s another full moon in two weeks and you don’t have shit to go on. That’s why I’m here. Work with me.” She reached for the steel door handle at the same time he did. She stiffened. “I’m not Donna. I can open my own doors.” Jack yanked it open and held it for her to pass through. “Yeah, I know, you’re the baddest ass walking the streets of Oakland.” He grinned and winked, then said, “Who happens to have the nicest ass walking the streets of Oakland.” “Don’t,” she growled, secretly liking the compliment, damn it! Jack threw his hands up in surrender. “My bad.” He walked through the closing door ahead of her and laughed out loud when she kicked him in the ass. Hurrying to climb the stairway with him, not behind him, Stevie mentally grumbled. The very last thing she wanted was to spend her days sitting in the stuffy room on the fifth floor across the street from a serial killing man-whore and watch the paint dry around the elusive Spoltori while her ex-lover breathed down her neck. Then the image of the three lifeless victims swam before her. Just before they came to the metal door opening to the lobby level, Stevie stopped and turned to Thorn. “Between myself, my partner Oliveras, and the two other detectives who switch out with us, and one assigned patrol car each shift, we have eyes on Spoltori around the clock. We don’t need you or your men.” Jack reached past her and yanked open the door. He stood back, a sardonic smile twisting his lips as he indicated she precede him, which she did because despite the fact that she was a woman in charge, she appreciated the gentlemanly gesture. Especially from Jack. “Even including yourself,” he said, following her to the elevator, “and adding your inept partner, and the two other dicks assigned to this case, what do you have to show for the investigation aside from a hunch and some weak circumstantial evidence on Spoltori?” The inept partner comment stung. Because it was true. Oliveras was lazy and he was a ladies’ man who spent more time sexting than knocking on doors. She carried the load for both of them. The other two dicks were solid and split their time between keeping a watch

over their suspect and hitting the streets. But Stevie had more than a hunch; she had concrete links between the three dead women and Spoltori. She also had a plan to flush him out. She punched the fifth-floor button. The doors immediately opened and they stepped in. Jack hit the button, the doors closed, and up they went. Dander up, Stevie turned, catching Jack’s irritated expression. All personal feelings aside, the one thing she could never take away from Jack was his dedication to the job. Jack’s single-minded tenacity had been evident in the way he instructed at the academy. His street cred on the mean streets of Oakland was legendary. His tenure had been short, but had made a hell of an impact on the crime rate within the city limits. Jack Thornton was his own wrecking crew who had his own brand of dishing out justice, one that didn’t normally agree with the General Order. But he always got the job done. His choice to go into the FBI had always puzzled her. If anything, she thought the feds would keep him on a short chain, not the longer leash of local police work. “I’ve got more than a hunch.” “I’m looking forward to your brief.” The elevator doors opened. Stevie strode down the hall to the surveillance room. Taking out her key she unlocked the door and stepped in. As she did each time she entered this room, no matter how many times a day she did, her eyes were drawn to the large storyboard with the pictures of the three victims prominently displayed. Their lifeless eyes staring at her, a constant reminder of why she was there. Why she endured the ceaseless hours of boredom staring through a camera lens, the interminable hours on the computer haunting chat rooms under assumed names, and why she wore out the soles of her shoes on the street looking under every rock for a clue. She didn’t sleep. She had to remind herself to eat. She had a suitcase in the corner with fresh clothes and her toiletries at the ready in the small half bathroom that came with the office, for God’s sake! This was her case. She lived it 24/7. And she had failed to produce enough evidence to get even a simple search warrant. They couldn’t even get Spoltori for spitting on the sidewalk or throwing a candy wrapper out his car window. He was slick, and she knew after his little show earlier that he was on to her. And if he was on to her, then her nose was on the right scent. She did need help, damn it, but not from Jack! Anyone but him. And not because of their

history . . . Well yes, totally because of their history. Because she hadn’t moved on, and because she hadn’t, it would interfere with her investigation. With her back to him she let out a pensive sigh, and then slid her hands into her pants pockets. She turned around and faced him fair and square. “Jack, please, pull yourself off my case.” Cocking his head he chided her. “Can’t stand a little heat? What the hell kind of cop are you anyway?” Something inside of her snapped. Dumping her backpack on the floor she got into his personal space. “The kind that has some integrity and refuses to put up with an egomaniac, ex-lover who’s bent on making her nothing but miserable.” His jade eyes flared a challenge. “Chicken.” “Taunting me won’t change anything, Thorn.” Inclining her head toward the window she continued, “I’d rather spend the day with Lothario over there and take my chances. At least with him, I’d be in control of the game.” Jack laughed, the sound husky and deep. Her skin flushed beneath the percussion of it. Her reaction to it while she was so pissed solidified all the reasons why she could not work with him. As controlled as she was in everything in her life, she had no control of this one aspect. It maddened her that she was still susceptible to his pull. “I don’t play games, Detective.” He leaned into her. “I play for real.” His nostrils flared when a small gasp escaped her lips at the intensity of his nearness. “That POS killed three women, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let our history prevent either one of us from getting him before he does it again.” He pulled her around and pointed to the wall of death. Dead eyes stared back, begging to be put to rest. “I’d work with the fucking Taliban if it would bring those victims justice.” Stevie elbowed him in the ribs as she turned around to face him. “My responsibility is also to the victims as well as their families. But how the hell am I supposed to do my job with you breathing down my neck like a dog denied?” Jack’s lips twitched as he rubbed his chest where she’d elbowed him. “Consider it an adverse condition and deal with it.” “With no hazard pay? Forget it.” She was joking, of course, but if she accepted her new working conditions and her new partner, she was opening herself to a world of hurt.

“No hazard pay, just the hazard of working with me.” His eyes darkened. “Besides, I owe you.” “You don’t owe me, Jack.” “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this case will help wipe the slate clean between us.” Wipe the slate clean between them? What slate did she have to wipe clean? Stevie made a sound similar to a snarl. He was impossibly obtuse. The most stubborn man on the planet. But also the sharpest. Sharper than even the illustrious Sheriff Cavanaugh. She glanced at the lifeless victims again. She was their voice now, their champion, and as much as she didn’t want to work with Thorn, she wanted to nail Spoltori more. No one deserved to die like those women had. So she would suck it up, pray she wouldn’t fall too hard and hurt too bad when it was all over, because she was going to work with Jack Thornton on this case. But on her terms. Stevie smiled blithely and gave Jack a sideways glance. “I have three conditions.” He raised both brows, as if skeptical that she had any say. But she did, in fact, have a say. A lot. “I’m listening.” “I’m team captain.” Jack started to shake his head, but she quickly put her hand up in the stop position. “We work out of my house, not yours. Your men report to me as they report to you, and take orders from me without asking your permission first.” “That’s four conditions.” “I’m a woman; it’s my duty to change my mind when it suits me.” “I’ll give you co-captain status, but understand my word is the final word.” Stevie ground her teeth, but kept silent. “My house has more advanced technology and a larger support staff.” When she didn’t argue he continued, “My men will report to us both and after we have consulted and agreed on a mutual order of business, feel free to order away.” She opened her mouth to counter when he put his hand up in the same stop position she just had. “I have a few conditions of my own, Detective.” Stevie exhaled loudly, crossed her arms over her chest, and said, “I’m listening.”

He smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and clamped it shut for a thoughtful minute before he finally spoke. “No going behind my back.” He leaned into her when she pursed her lips. “For anything. We are to be one hundred percent transparent with each other. We’re a team, Detective. It will serve no purpose if we’re counterproductive.” When she didn’t speak, he stepped back. Surprised when he didn’t keep going, she asked, “That’s it? No more conditions?” “One more.” He looked directly at her. “There are to be no references to our history. It has no relevance to this case.” Stevie’s heart slammed high in her throat. His words hurt. She knew he hadn’t given her a second thought when he never once contacted her, not even a text to say, “Hey, you were a great lay, now it’s time for me to move on. Have a nice life.” But for him to say their past had no relevance stung deep. The sting galvanized her resolve. More importantly it closed the one door she had kept open in her mind. The one that welcomed another meeting with Jack in the hopes of furthering their relationship the second go around. Now she knew. That door was closed. Had been as far as Jack was concerned. It was past time she accept it. She inhaled deeply, then let the exhale go, long and slow. “I have one more condition, Special Agent Thornton.” “You have some balls, Detective.” “I accept your conditions. All of them. Just so long as you understand that if you so much as lay one finger on me, I’ll take you down so fast your head will spin off your neck.” The faint lines at the creases of his eyes crinkled. He thought it was funny? Grabbing a handful of her breasts, she smirked at his sharp intake of breath. “These are mine. I only share if I want to. I don’t want to share them with you, now, or ever. Look at them or touch them, even by mistake, and I’ll fucking geld you.” Jack threw his head back and laughed, the sound deep and mellow. Truly amused. “Oh, Cavanaugh, I trained you well.” “You have no idea,” she threw at him before she grabbed her pack up from the floor. As she set it on the small table by her chair, the office door opened and another suit walked through it. “Detective Cavanaugh, meet Special Agent Deavers, our resident IT specialist,” Thorn said.

Stevie extended her hand to the tall, handsome agent. “I’d say I’m glad to meet you, Deavers, but under the circumstances, I’m feeling a little cheated.” He nodded and shook her hand, then gave Thorn a knowing look. “We get that a lot.” Stevie released his hand and gave Thorn a sideways glance. “I know you guys have better toys, but ours aren’t that archaic and we have a designated room for this investigation back at HQ, not to mention we’re close to city hall. I suggest we not dismantle what we’ve built for your convenience. We have room for your technology.” “It’s not about convenience, Detective, we have support staff—” “So do we. Plus my staff is up to speed. Including the hot little blonde you were dawdling with earlier today. I don’t want to waste any time briefing anyone but you and your immediate men. We need penetration, now, in the form of warrants and a man inside that apartment as well as Spoltori’s dungeon before that prick kills again.” “Dungeon? Man inside?” Stevie nodded. She had been wrestling with her idea for two weeks, but didn’t have the confidence in her team to back her play. Now the feds were involved, Jack specifically, who she knew would not allow anything to happen to her, despite his indifference. “I’m getting close to setting up a meet with Spoltori via the chat rooms—” “Are you suggesting that you go in undercover as a—what?” “A player.” Jack scowled. “A player as in you allow him to put his whips and chains on you?” “Not that extreme, but along those lines. Under the pretense of being a player, I can get into his world and gain his confidence.” “The guy’s a sadist. He gets a hold of you and we can’t get to you, you’re going to get hurt or worse.” Stevie smiled and readjusted the video camera on the tripod. “And that will break your widdle heart, will it?” “No one likes to lose a man on their watch.” As she sat down in the chair and put her eye to the camera, she focused in on the apartment, and scowled. The blinds were closed. “I’m not a man, and this is my watch, not yours.” “I don’t like it.”

Stevie sat back; half turned in her chair, and faced him. “Of course you don’t. But I sure as hell am not walking into his dungeon and asking for a confession.” “You can’t go in, it’s too risky and he’ll recognize you.” “I didn’t interview him, Oliveras did. He has no idea who I am or what I look like.” Jack’s scowl deepened. “If that’s an option we choose, I’ll request a female agent from violent crimes as the bait.” Stevie wanted to punch him. This was not negotiable. “My case, my terms, Special Agent.” Considering the topic closed, Stevie pulled out her cellphone and texted Oliveras, who had not returned her call but should be down at the Starbucks across from the entry of Spoltori’s building watching for him. Any sign of the subject? A firm. He headed south on Broadway about thirty minutes ago. Is he in sight? Negative. And you didn’t notify me of his movement why? Figured you watched him exit.

What did that have to do with keeping tabs on him now? Hard to do when the blinds are closed. My bad.

“Idiot,” she, mumbled under her breath. I left a voice mail a half hour ago, Stevie irately texted. Phone’s on the fritz. Get a new one asap, and keep me posted on the subject. Will do to both.

Thorn held up his cellphone and showed her the texts he had received from one of his men with detailed updates on Spoltori, who was currently shopping the produce section of the corner market. She didn’t bother updating Oliveras. Let him chase his tail for a while. “Thanks for rubbing it in, Jack.” Feeling deflated, Stevie stood and gave Thorn a long dry look. She needed to get out of here. Away from him. Away from the case, even for just a few hours. “Since you have this

covered, I need to take care of a few housekeeping items back at the PD.” When he didn’t object, she pulled a laptop from her backpack, set it down on the table, and pointed to the inserted flash drive. “My notes on the case. Detective Sidel, my relief, is on his way in. He’ll bring you up to speed.” Feeling cornered with no control, she moved past him. “I thought we had a deal, Detective?” Stevie nodded. “We do, I just need to get out of here for a while.” She wasn’t taking her toys and going home, she just needed time to herself to regroup. Jack’s unexpected and unwelcome coup had her second-guessing her skills. The woman part of her had been thrown for a complete loop. She needed to wrangle her pheromones into submission, and to do that she needed to get zen with herself. She nodded to Deavers, then saw herself out despite Jack’s deep voice demanding she return.

CHAPTER SIX

“S tevie!” Jack called. He was damn frustrated. She was running from him. Again. He got it; he’d left her in the middle of the night. He said he was sorry, now she needed to get over it. The clock was ticking on this case. There was no time for female drama. The elevator doors opened and closed before he could get to her. He took the stairs three at a time, and when the elevator doors opened, he was waiting for her. But the car was empty. What the hell? Where the hell are you? He texted.

He heard the wolf whistle of her cellphone. He followed it around the corner and found her standing against the concrete wall next to the service elevator. “Stop running from me,” he said quietly, walking up to her. She stared straight ahead. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He watched the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, unable to stop the vision of the last time he’d seen them. Glistening with a soft sheen of sweat, the rose-colored nipples hard and wet from his relentless tongue. She had great tits. He pushed away the thoughts and the heat they inspired. She was hands-off. Not because she wanted it that way, but because he knew if he touched her once, it wouldn’t be enough. And when it fizzled out for him? How did he walk

away a second time and not hurt her? Leaning against the wall next to her, Jack slipped his hands into his trouser pockets where they would behave. Taking the hard road with Stevie worked most of the time when her pride got in the way of what was right. Or, as he learned what she wanted but was afraid to ask for. In this case, though, he knew he would get nowhere by rendering her helpless. So he softened his approach. “I remember a beautiful young woman who came into my classroom and thought she could take on the world with one hand tied behind her back. I had no doubt then that she could, I have no doubt now that she has. That isn’t going to change the fact that your top cop called my boss and asked for help.” He leaned into her. “Stop fighting me, Stevie.” He felt the tremble shimmer through her body more than he saw it. Her vulnerability touched him in a way he least expected. The urge to take her into his arms and comfort her swept through him. He stepped back and slowly drank her in. Just like she had in the academy, she wore her long brunette hair in a thick braid. The highlighted copper and dark blond strands wove into a complicated swirl. Her skin was silky smooth and as unblemished as cream, her chin small but firm. Her lips were plump, sensuous, and parted like they were at the moment, highly kissable. High cheekbones set off her huge blue eyes with lashes so long and black he could see why someone might think they were fake. He knew they weren’t. There was nothing fake about the woman standing defiantly before him. Every curve and valley of her body was natural, and highly responsive to his touch. “You’ve lost weight since the academy,” he said. “You look better with a little meat on your bones.” Slowly she turned her head and glared at him. He tensed for the verbal punch that was coming. “And you’d look better if you disappeared.” He nodded. “I will after we make an arrest.” Then added, “If that’s what you want.” Pushing off the wall she said, “Yeah, that’s what I want.” “I’m sure it is.” He glanced at his watch. “In the meantime, you have ten minutes to collect yourself and return to the surveillance room.” He turned on his heels and left.

Clutching the car key, Stevie sat in the Crown Vic for a solid twenty minutes staring out the windshield. She knew she would work with the devil if it meant locking up Spoltori. Looked like that was exactly with whom she would be working. But it didn’t mean that she had to like it, or that it would be easy. Her father’s voice droned in her ears. “Emotions have no place in police work, Stevie. They weaken your objectivity.” “Get a grip, Cavanaugh,” she said out loud to herself. She was a big girl, a big girl who knew how to use her gun and possessed the self-control of a Tibetan monk. She had this. Determined, she opened the door, exited, then locked it. She wasn’t going back because Jack told her to; she was going back because it was what she wanted. To work tirelessly for the victims and their families until she made an arrest. Staring straight ahead she marched back to the stuffy hellhole. Deavers was gone. Jack looked at his watch, “You’re fifteen minutes late, Detective. You’re going to pay for it.” “Promises, promises,” she quipped as she glanced at the open bathroom door. It was empty. “Where’s Sidel?” she asked. It wasn’t like him to be late. “Russo just informed me that he called in sick,” Jack answered. “Where’s your man?” Stevie asked, tossing the backpack onto the small desk in front of the storyboard, and noticed a second video camera set up next to hers. “Relieving Oliveras.” Jack scowled at her. “I know he’s your partner, but he’s inept. I have no use for ineptitude. He’s off the task force.” Stevie opened her mouth to protest just because it was Jack making that call when it should have been hers. But it was the right call. Oliveras was inept and held back the case. “The city is cash-strapped. We’re over one hundred officers down from our minimum contract with the city. I had no choice but to work with him.” “I don’t want to hear excuses, Cavanaugh, I want to hear how we’re going to crack this case wide open.” “Then roll up your damn sleeves and let’s get to it.” Stevie could see by the files pulled up on the laptop that Jack had been reading through them. “I’ve made a copy of the case files that I can read over later tonight, but for now, I’d like you to bring me up to speed.”

Stevie nodded. “This is what I have so far.” Pointing to the picture of Spoltori up on the storyboard she said, “Mario Vittorio Spoltori is an independent stockbroker, his firm is called The Edge Fund. He thinks he’s a smart-ass, because his Master name is ‘The Edge,’ identifying his penchant for edge play.” “Edge play?” “BDSM lingo for beyond spanking. Edge play is all about hard-core pain, including cutting.” Stevie pointed to the enhanced photos of each victim’s shaved pubis. “And let’s make no mistake about Spoltori’s place in the BDSM world, where there are levels of dominance. He is clearly and widely known as a Master. Not a Top or even a Dom but a Master. The master of edge play.” Jack nodded for her to continue. “All three victims were cut with the same sharp edge; forensics thinks it was an exacto knife. Each vic had the same symbol carved into them.” She moved in and looked closer at it. “The cuts are deep and premortem.” Stevie shivered. “Bastard likes to watch them bleed.” “What is the symbol?” “The mark of Cain.” “I didn’t think there was a specific mark.” “There isn’t, but if you research the term, this particular symbol pops up fairly regularly in underworld and fantasy cultures. The killer is using it as his calling card. It’s also Spoltori’s underground dungeon symbol, that’s how I made the initial connection. Then I dug deeper and discovered he’s Mayor Dyer’s war chest manager and connected each of his vics as being married to a heavy campaign contributor of the mayor’s.” She cocked a brow at Jack. “As you can see, a little more than a hunch.” “That’s good police work connecting the symbol, Detective.” “Thanks.” “So let’s delve into what makes our killer tick.” Stevie nodded. “Spoltori was born Raymond Justin Arnold, an only child. Both parents deceased, murder-suicide when he was five.” Stevie pointed to a picture of two women to the far right of the board, but with lines connecting them to Spoltori, one in her early twenties and the other her forties. “His paternal aunt took him in. Ten years later, her daughter Jessica was kidnapped, tortured, and killed.” Stevie shivered. “I think she was his first kill.”

“Why do you think that?” “It makes progressive sense.” Stevie moved to the lap top on the desk. Bending over she clicked through a few pages in her docs, then clicked on a link to an article in the Baltimore Sun. “It says here that Jessica Chambers disappeared on her way home from work, and the next day she was found naked, tortured, raped, and dead on the front porch of her house.” Stevie scrolled through the rest of the article. “But they made an arrest. Jerome Sikes, a coworker she had dated. He’s doing a life sentence.” She shook her head. “My gut is screaming they convicted the wrong guy. It was Spoltori.” “Jessica doesn’t fit the MO of our three.” “That’s because he either didn’t intend to kill Jessica or, if he did, because it was his inaugural kill and he was just beginning to perfect it.” She pointed to the article. “The foundation is there: kidnap, torture, rape, body laid out for public admiration.” Jack typed something into his iPhone. “I just told Deavers to locate the detectives who worked the case in Baltimore. We’ll follow up with BPD tomorrow. How old was Spoltori when the cousin was killed?” “Sixteen. He emancipated himself a year later, moved from Baltimore to Chicago and managed to scholarship himself through Northwestern, where he completely reinvented himself. From Chicago he moved to Denver, then to Oakland two years ago.” Jack looked pointedly at her. “Before we go further on Spoltori’s profile, did you check with the PDs in his former places of residence for any missing persons or unsolved murders that could be linked to him?” “Yes, and while there were no murders in Baltimore or Chicago, there were several assaults at Northwestern that began with his enrollment and ended when he graduated.” Stevie brought those images up on her computer. “But they weren’t coeds, they were middleaged wives of faculty. Our three victims are middle-aged wives of high-profile campaign contributors.” Jack moved in close behind her. Stevie stood stock-still, afraid of touching him. When he leaned past her and grasped the mouse and slowly rolled his index finger back and forth scrolling through the pictures, she squeezed her eyes shut. Carefully she inhaled, then ever so slowly exhaled. “And Denver?” he asked, moving back, his right hand brushing against her right elbow as

he did. “One,” she rasped, sliding sideways and away from him. “I think after he killed his cousin it took him some time to settle down. Once he had, he started trolling in Chicago. Each subsequent attack was more advanced than the previous. When the heat got too hot he took off for Denver and there he made his second kill.” Stevie moved back toward him to bring that victim’s face up. When Jack refused to move, she nudged him with her elbow, then grasped the mouse. “Erica Strauss—” “Wife of Leon Strauss, reviled pastor of Glad Tidings Mission.” “Yes.” Stevie brought up the crime scene and flinched. As many times as she saw it, it still elicited a visceral reaction from her. “She was brutally murdered. Not with the finesse of our three victims. This was more personal in that it was so violent, but she bled out and he staged her the same.” “For all that Strauss spewed his homophobic rhetoric, he lived the life.” Wide-eyed Stevie asked, “Are you saying the pastor was gay?” Jack nodded. “I was working violent crimes out of our Denver Bureau at the time. Because of their extreme ideology that lent itself to extreme violence, we’d been watching Glad Tidings for a while. Strauss was training haters like al-Qaida trains terrorists, all while he was trolling the Denver gay underground.” “When I contacted the pastor he refused to discuss his wife’s murder with me. I requested the case files from Denver PD last month. ” Jack sent another text. “We’ll have them tomorrow morning.” “Can you get surveillance footage of the pastor and his hanky-panky travels?” “That will be included in the file.” Stevie pursed her lips. Apparently there were advantages to working with a fed. “I’ll bet you a Val’s burger, that footage will out more than a few high profile faces.” Jack grinned. “I haven’t had a Val’s burger since that day you introduced me to them.” His eyes darkened. “That was a good day, Stevie.” She swallowed. Up to the end of that day, it had been the best of her life. It was the day Jack— “I don’t know who was more surprised when I kissed you,” he said. “You, me, or the recruits.”

Her breasts thickened as her nipples hardened and the memory came flooding back. It had been pouring rain. They’d just come off a long grueling day of PT out at the Santa Rita facility. Soaked and mud covered, she’d raced Jack the last fifty yards of the long-distance course. Just as he was about to pass her for the win, she grabbed his arm to knock him off balance, but he grabbed hers and they both went down, Jack twisting his body to absorb the impact, her on top of him, both sliding several yards in the mud and pouring rain, laughing their asses off. When they came to a stop, she was sprawled on top of him. He’d grabbed her braid, wound it around his fist and forced her lips to his. He’d done it with no regard to the rest of the recruits stomping past them. She’d paid for that kiss. For the remainder of her time in the academy she was ostracized by her fellow recruits. A smile cracked her lips. Totally worth it. “You should do that more often,” Jack said his voice low and husky. She looked up at him and caught the raw desire in his eyes that he made no effort to hide. “Do what?” “Smile.” She scowled. “Before or after I gain more weight?” “When’s the last time you ran in the rain?” “When was the last time you minded your own business?” Stevie turned back to the computer and printed out the pictures of Spoltori’s cousin and Erica Strauss. She taped them to the right of the Oakland victims, then wrote their names and date of death beneath each. “Have you made contact with the aunt?” Jack asked. “I called her, but she refused to talk to me and there isn’t money for a trip to Maryland.” Jack pulled up a chair, “I wonder if the kill dates of Jessica and Erica were full moons?” He quickly did a Google search, looked up at Stevie, and smiled grimly. “Full moons. I’ll bet you another Val’s burger each of the attacks at Northwestern were during a full moon.” Stevie dragged over the other chair, nudged his hands off the keyboard and pulled up her notes. When she searched the assault dates, they came up the same as the others. Full moons. “I haven’t figured out the significance of the full moon,” Stevie said thinking out loud. “What we do know is that Spoltori is a sadistic misogynist Master who kidnaps and tortures

middle-aged women before he ritualistically kills them on a full moon, leaving his mark of Cain on their pubis.” Her gaze rose to the storyboard. She stood and walked to the picture of Rose Chambers, his aunt. “She has vacant eyes.” “I suspect it’s a common by-product when your only child is brutally murdered.” Stevie shook her head. “I can’t begin to imagine.” “What can you tell me about your three vics?” Stevie pointed to the first picture. “Mary Coggins, forty-eight-year-old white female, wife to Jerald Coggins local boy makes good. He owns Computec, the cooler, more cost-effective version of the Geek Squad. She was a Cal grad, no children, and by all accounts a ballbuster.” Stevie moved to the second victim. “Alicia Marquez. Forty-six-year-old Hispanic female, wife to Alex Marquez, CEO of HostaGradiant, a green industrial recycling process for fossil-based waste, mother of two girls, Juniata and Cristina. Then there is June Poland, forty-eight-yearold white female, wife of Kevin Poland who is the CFO of Gemnon, a biochemical company, mother of two boys, Mark and Jake. All three husbands are Oakland based and generous contributors to Mayor Dryer. All three were kidnapped one week prior to their tortured, sexually assaulted bodies being staged on a prominent city corner.” “Look a little closer, Detective. What other similarities do you see?” “I have noted in my report that they all have short hair, brown eyes, and are in the same age bracket.” “Look at his aunt, Rose Chambers.” “She’s a bottle blonde.” “What did she look like when her daughter was killed? And let’s go back further. Do you have a picture of Spoltori’s mother right before she died?” “No. But I can get a postmortem one from the county coroner.” “What was the date of his parents’ death?” “April twelfth, ninety-eight.” Jack entered the date into the search engine. He raised his green eyes to hers. “Full moon.” “It doesn’t make sense. He was five when his father killed his mother and then shot himself. He was too young to be killing his mother over and over via these other women.” “Unless his mother was brutalizing him.” “I didn’t get that feeling from the reports. By all accounts, Genny Arnold was a loving

mother.” “I think we need to go back to the beginning to understand Spoltori’s motives.” “Rose Chambers refuses to talk.” Jack cracked a smile. “Maybe to you.” “You’re not going back there without me.” “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Just as she was about to tell him to go to hell, his phone rang. “Thorn,” he answered. “Okay, thanks.” He tapped the end icon and smiled at Stevie. “Our boy is on his way up, and he has some company.” They quickly pulled the chairs around and much to Stevie’s dismay, she watched Jack position the new camera setup to a freshly cut circle approximately twelve inches from hers. He shrugged his jacket off and she quickly dragged her eyes from his wide shoulders and long arms. For the second time that day she watched Mario act out as if he knew he had an audience. He turned on every light in the apartment. When he drew the blinds in the living room, she saw that he had a woman with him. A middle-aged woman. Not your average run-of-the-mill middle-aged woman, this woman was made up to the nines. “He has good taste,” Jack said. “Chic, attractive, and from the way she carries herself, confident.” Stevie watched him lead his guest through the apartment. When the bedroom light went on, she held her breath. When the blinds went up giving them full view of the bed, she swallowed hard. Holy hell, he was going to have sex with that woman while she watched, sitting not a foot from Jack! “Text your man and have him standing by outside of Spoltori’s door. I don’t want his little show to go to shit while we watch and can’t get to her in time.” Jack made the call and by the time he hung up, Spoltori had taken off his shirt. Spoltori snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor before him. Head down the woman dropped to her knees. So much for foreplay. “She may have power in her life outside, but in Spoltori’s world, she submits.” Stevie squirmed. She had submitted in Jack’s world. However, Jack had never been

violent. When the woman looked up at Spoltori, he slapped her. Hard. Across the face, drawing blood from her lip. Stevie gasped, jumping in her chair. “We can arrest him right now for assault,” she growled. “Not if it’s consensual. Look at her, she loved it.” Though the woman bowed her head again, the smile twitching her bloody lips was unmistakable. That was some seriously messed up shit there. Like a true submissive, head bowed, she waited to be told what to do. Spoltori said something. Slowly, without raising her head, the woman reached for his zipper and drew it down. Expecting his large penis to spring forward, Stevie was surprised to find that it was flaccid. Spoltori’s jaw tightened. The woman dared to look up, disappointment clearly written on her face. He slapped her again, this time setting her back on her butt. Again the look on the woman’s face told the story. She was digging this. “I have no respect for a man who smacks a woman around, even if she asks for it,” Jack growled. “Looks like the hit helped the limp dick cause.” Spoltori was growing. He strode over the woman, straddling her. He spoke to her and she rose, openmouthed to him. Spoltori grabbed her hair with one hand, pushing her head back so that she stared eye to eye with his dick. He said something to her that appeared to be a command. She nodded, licking her lips as he slowly stroked his penis. She strained to reach the head, but he held her back as he stroked himself harder. Stevie squirmed in her seat, but stated the obvious. “I find it interesting that he can’t get an erection unless he’s violent or stroking himself.” Just as Stevie said the last word, Spoltori pulled the woman to his erect penis and slid it into her open mouth. Jack and Stevie both shifted in their respective chairs. Releasing his penis, Spoltori grabbed another hank of her hair and double-fisted, he held on to her head and controlled the rhythm of her fellating him. Stevie didn’t dare look over at Jack. For the next fifteen minutes they watched Mario get a royal blow job. Instead of ejaculating in her mouth he ejaculated on her face. “The ultimate insult,” Jack said, his voice low and raspy. Stevie agreed that there was something demeaning in a man, especially this man, ejaculating on his partner’s face.

When he began to zip up the woman became angry and swiping the ejaculate from her cheek, she quickly stood. “I don’t think she’s very happy,” Jack observed. “I’d have to agree.” “Now let’s see how he handles her.” When the woman became increasingly irate, Mario slapped her again. Stevie growled. “I really want to arrest him.” “Not if this is part of their play. Look at how her body language has changed. She’s back to submissive.” Mario said something, then pointed to the bed. The woman quickly undressed and, on all fours, she climbed onto the bed facing the headboard. She was in great shape, and from the angle they sat at, the woman’s sex was clearly exposed and wet. Mario opened a drawer and pulled out rope and a ball hanging from straps. “He’s going to tie her and gag her,” Jack said. He tied her wrists together and attached them to a hook he pulled out from the top of his headboard. Now her head was down, her butt in the air. From beneath the bed he pulled out a short rod with leather straps on either end. He positioned it between her knees, spreading them almost two feet, and then secured the leather straps around her legs. Next he took the ball and gagged her, then secured it around her head. The coup de grace came when he pulled out a large strap-on penis from another drawer. “I bet she doesn’t know it’s a strap-on,” Stevie mused. Spoltori stripped and positioned the strap over his flaccid penis and secured it. Next he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. With no preamble, he dipped a finger into the woman’s vagina. Stevie couldn’t help it. She squirmed in her chair as the woman pulled on the ropes, obviously enjoying it, but her action earned a sharp slap on the ass from Mario, stilling her. As his finger dipped in and out of her vagina, the woman remained statue still, but her skin was flushed beneath a soft sheen of perspiration. Despite the wrongness of Spoltori, Stevie’s nether regions constricted with each slide of his finger into the woman, imaging that it was her restrained as Jack had his way with her. When Mario slid a finger into the woman’s anus, she pulled hard on the ropes again. Earning her another slap on the ass. Jack’s breathing patterns had shifted from normal to shallow. He felt it, too. How could he not? He was a dominant, and minus the violence and paraphernalia of the scene playing out

before them it was erotically similar in many ways to their one night together. Holy hell. “I think it’s telling how with the exception of her fellating him, he doesn’t allow any actual skin to skin contact,” Stevie said, trying to make her voice sound normal. But the husky edge to it was undeniable. She was aroused to the point of wanting Jack to take what she had dreamed of giving him these last seven years. “The only thing he likes about women is humiliating them,” he said hoarsely. Jack had never humiliated her. Quite the opposite. He had infused her with power. When Spoltori had the woman primed, he slid the huge strap-on into her. Stevie bit her bottom lip imagining Jack sliding into her. “Don’t,” Jack growled. “Don’t what?” she breathlessly asked. “Make that sound.” “I didn’t make any sound!” She still refused to take her eyes off the lens. If she looked at Jack he’d see the need in her eyes and she couldn’t say she wouldn’t stop him from touching her if he chose. “Yes you did. It was the same sound you made the first time I slid into you.” Stevie squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop it,” she whispered as she watched Spoltori go to Pound Town on the strap-on fuck train. Try as she did, fighting down her raging libido was impossible. What was being played out before her with her ex-lover sitting thigh to thigh with her, their breaths steaming the space up between them, was too intense to fight. Transfixed, neither one of them flinched. When Spoltori’s session with the woman finally ended, Stevie stood on wobbly legs. Without looking at Jack, whose hot gaze she knew bore into her, she stumbled past him and said, “I need to get some air.” Then literally ran from the surveillance room, leaving a rigid Jack sitting silent in his chair. She didn’t go back.

CHAPTER SEVEN

T he evening was warm. The air sultry. Her body tense. The episode earlier with Jack, as Spoltori went at it with the woman, had Stevie so worked up on so many planes that she hung on to her self-control by her nails. One push and she’d be spiraling out of control. Heavy metal music blared from the overhead speakers in her converted garage, bombarding Stevie’s brain into numbness. Sweat slickened, stripped down to nothing but a pair of black biking shorts and black sports bra, Stevie beat the snot out of the heavy bag. Each time her knuckles slammed into the leather, denting it, she smiled, imagining Jack’s pretty face exploding into thousands of pieces of blood, bone, and muscle. She was a fool! How many times had she told herself that over the years? It took seeing Jack again, and his casual dismissal of her, for her to finally believe it. The last kick dropped her to her emotional knees. Then to sit there beside him, voyeurs experiencing Spoltori’s sadistic world. Holy Jesus. As twisted as it had started out, it had turned highly erotic when Mario tied the woman up. “Idiot!” she screamed as she roundhouse kicked the bag. It swung away from her. Before it swung back to her, she turned and kicked it again. How could her body be on fire for a man who was a careless Lothario? “I. Hate. You. Jack. Thornton!” Abruptly the garage door she had open for ventilation began to close behind her.

“What the—” She turned to the control panel to see her nemesis standing angrily glaring at her as the door closed behind him. “Get out of my house,” she snarled. He shook his head and stepped farther into the garage. It was finished, the floor checkered-flag black and white, with high-end gym equipment surrounding half of the mats with a rack of free weights, bench, and several bars in the mirrored corner closest to her. A sofa she kept meaning to have picked up was pushed to the edge of her workout mat behind her. Jack’s predatory gaze held her. A dark shiver swept through her. She’d seen that look before. “Get out,” she said again, though this time the words barely made it out of her dry throat. Jack yanked his jacket off, loosened his tie and slid his shoulder holster off. He tossed them onto the sofa, then loosened his tie some more. “Why are you here?” “To get the fucking out of the way.” Her body jerked. “Whaaat?” He was crazy! He continued his approach. “If we’re going to work together, we’re going to scratch this itch until it doesn’t itch anymore.” “You’re crazy.” She swallowed hard when his hot gaze swept the length of her. He stopped just an arm’s length from her. “And you didn’t say no.” “I don’t have to say no. You won’t touch me.” He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her hard against his chest. “You have a short memory, then.” His lips lowered to hers. “When it comes to you, I take what I want and you give it to me. Gladly.” He grabbed her braid and pulled her head so far back her breasts stabbed his chest. Once a dominant always a dominant. Just as it had all those years ago, her body submitted to him. “You’ve needed this, baby. Haven’t you?” This time her brain had more control. “I’m not a naive girl fresh out of college.” “No, you’re a smart-ass grown woman whose pride fucks everything up.” His eyes glittered as he pressed his heated lips to her neck. They both felt the jump of her pulse against his lips.

His body inflated with the taste of her. He licked her neck. “I’ve missed the taste of you, Stevie.” He pulled her braid back more. “Remember how sweaty we got? Just like this on the mats? You would come to me after hours pretending to want more instruction. Silently begging me to put my hands on you.” He nipped her bottom lip. “You liked the way I broke through your resistance each time. Taking what you wanted to give but were afraid to offer.” He sucked in her lip, then slowly released it. “The Ice Princess could only thaw when her control was taken away.” He chuckled as his knuckles swept the pulse of her heartbeat along her throat. “You were smooth as glass in the classroom. Unforgiving on the mats. Marksman on the range and fearless on the course. That class had more than four hundred recruits. My precious little Ice Princess didn’t allow one of them to get close enough to her to know what she ate for breakfast.” His lips pressed against hers. “But I learned your secret, didn’t I?” She closed her eyes; her heart beat so hard in her chest she felt like she was going into cardiac arrest. “You liked it when I took command of you. And when it was just you and me, Stevie . . .” He parted her lips with his, and in a slow languid roll he delved into her. “You begged for it.” Her body thrummed in response to his. It craved every inch of him. But she couldn’t do this. She bit his bottom lip, drawing blood. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he continued to kiss her. It was maddeningly erotic. She kneed him hard in the groin. His grip loosened enough for her to spin out of his hold. Doubled over, he looked up at her, his deep green eyes blazing angrily. Paralyzed in fear she stood rooted to the mats, and just as he straightened, she found her feet. She lunged toward the sofa with the intention of hurdling it and running out the side garage door. Instead he caught her by her braid and yanked her hard back against this chest. “Stop fighting me,” he commanded. Her body shuddered at his command. “I can’t,” she rasped. He ran his fingers along her clavicle. “Yes, you can. And you will, Stevie.” As he ran his fingers down her arm, she shivered, goose bumps erupting along her limbs despite the heat of her body. Sliding a finger beneath her sports bra, he slid it up and over her head, and when she realized what he was going to do, she bolted.

“Stop,” he commanded, his voice low but dangerous. “No,” she breathed, stopping in her tracks. Her back to him, she felt his body heat before he touched her. Gently he pulled her back against the length of him, his erection jutting into her back. He slid his fingertips down her slick skin, then up along the outside swell of her breast. Her nipples elongated and hardened as a shuddering sigh escaped her lungs. “Let me give you what you’re so afraid to ask for, sweetheart.” “So you can walk out on me again?” “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he whispered against her ear. He sounded so sincere. Her limbs trembled. “I can’t,” she started. “You want to play the ‘No really means Yes’ game, Stevie?” His breath was hot on her cheek. “No,” she sobbed. God, she ached to be possessed by him. No one made her feel the things Jack made her feel. She’d never trusted a man with her body like she’d trusted Jack. He understood her. Understood why it was so hard for her to let go. So he took it. “I’m going to fuck you into tomorrow, Stevie. You’re going to come until you can’t move.” His fingers swept across her nipple, then plucked it. Her pussy clenched. “Tell me you want me to fuck you into tomorrow, Stevie. Tell me how much that sweet pussy of yours missed my hungry cock.” He pinched her nipple, making her gasp. “Tell me now.” When she bit her bottom lip to keep her breath from expelling and also to stiffen her resolve, he tugged her nipple, the sweet pain shooting straight to her core. “Stubborn girl, you know what happens when you defy me,” he crooned. “Jack,” she breathed, forcing herself to be strong. He brought the bra before them and twisted it around her wrists, where he deftly tied it. As he finished, he pulled her back toward the heavy bag and as he pushed her flush against it with one hand, with the other, he unbuckled his belt. Her eyes widened and she pushed past him. “Stand still,” he commanded. Stevie stopped, her eyes wide, her breath forced, her body on fucking fire. Every inch of her screamed for him to take what he wanted from her as forcefully as he wanted to. But as dominant as Jack was, he was always gentle with her. He never pushed her past her comfort zone. Every touch, every bit of sweet aching agony he inflicted on her, she craved.

He smiled and raised her arms over her head, and with his belt, he tied her to the top ring of the chain attached to the heavy bag. It caused her body to stretch and arch toward him, her breasts tantalizing. She was up on her toes to keep from hanging. “I don’t know how it’s possible, sweetheart, but you look more beautiful right now than you have ever looked.” He stepped to her and traced a fingertip along the high swell of each breast. Her nipples begged for his touch. “I like the nipple rings, Stevie. Nice touch to perfect breasts.” She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his attention. When he tugged at her nipple rings she gasped. “So responsive.” He took a nipple into his mouth and gently flicked it. “Jack,” she moaned. His big hands slid around her bare waist and brought her against him as he buried his face in her cleavage. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed. “I didn’t realize how much until just now.” Stevie puddled. Really that was the only way she could describe her reaction to his admission. She was so wet for him she felt moistness trickle from her soft inner flesh. “Tell me how much you missed me,” he demanded as his lips brushed a nipple and his arms tightened around her. “Like the desert misses the rain.” Jack’s body tightened against hers as his head lifted and their gazes caught. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.” “You deserve it.” “Yeah, I deserve that and more, but that’s not why I’m here.” He yanked her hard against him. “You’ve managed to get under my skin, Detective. I can’t focus. I can’t concentrate. I can’t do my job, wanting you the way I do.” He nipped at her bottom lip. “I need to work you out of my system. And I need you to let me.” “What about what I need?” His eyes crackled with serious mischief. “You need me inside you.” “You’re arrogant to think so.” “I know so, and I swear to God, Stevie, if you don’t tell me how much that sweet pussy of yours craves my cock, I’m going to take you over my knee and spank it out of you.” Her breath hitched in her throat and he smiled like the Grinch right before he plundered Whoville. Licking her dry lips, she couldn’t break away from the intensity of his gaze, or the

sharp planes of his face that were never so possessive. This wasn’t Jack Thornton teaching Stevie Cavanaugh about why she, a dominant woman, would crave to be dominated, this was a predator that had his prey in his grasp and was waiting only for permission to devour it. If that permission was not granted? She swallowed hard again. Would he take it anyway? Did it matter? If they were going to work together, was it better to fuck the tension between them away or would it make them want it more? What was the worst thing that could happen to her if she gave him the green light? She could not be more heartbroken than she had been these past seven years, so why not? It was what she wanted. More than anything. She had trusted him with her secret need to be dominated. He haunted her dreams. He was here and he wanted her. God help her, she wanted him too. Swallowing hard, Stevie opened her mouth to speak but she choked, her throat was so dry. She couldn’t ask for it seven years ago and she couldn’t ask for it now. Jack kissed her. Long, deep, emotional. It took her breath away. When his lips lifted from hers, he softly said, “Let me give you what you’re afraid to ask for.” She hung there in his arms, exposed, vulnerable, needy and afraid. She closed her eyes and took the leap. “My pussy is so wet right now,” she whispered. “It craves your cock, Jack. It wants you to fuck it into next week. Until it’s raw.” “Open your eyes.” She did. Slowly, coyly. His eyes blazed. “Look at me when you tell me.” Inhaling, she exhaled her words. “I want you so bad it hurts. I want you buried balls deep inside of me. I want you hard and fast, slow and deliberate. I want you to make me come hard, Jack. So hard I can’t stand.” His hands cupped her breasts, his breathing accelerated, and his nostrils flared with excitement. She wanted to laugh and tell him it was all a joke, to go fuck himself. But the words lodged in her throat. She wanted this more. And she gave him more. “I’m so wet; if you pull off my shorts I’ll drip onto your hand.” He growled and yanked her tennis shoes off, then slowly worked her shorts down her thighs to her calves then finally to the floor. The hot musk of her aroused sex swirled around them. “I love the smell of your pussy,” he said roughly, caressing the cradle of her hips with

his thumbs. Drawing her toward him, he dropped to his knees, tilted her hips, and splayed her thighs. “Your pussy is glistening with want, Stevie.” He glanced up at her and smiled. “I have missed this.” He brought her hips to his lips and softly pressed his nose to her soft damp curls. She shuddered as her clitoris constricted. Lightly he kissed it. She nearly came. “Lick me, Jack,” she begged before she realized what she did. “It would be my pleasure.” He slid his tongue along the slick swollen seam of her. Her thighs tightened around him as a slow moan eased from her lips. God, she’d missed him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

E very decent part of him told Jack to stop. That he was taking advantage of Stevie’s weakness for him. That just like before, when another door opened, he’d walk out of her life. This time she might hunt him down and kill him. But he’d longed for her all these years. The ache so deep it kept him away. He could no longer ignore it. Wouldn’t, even if he wanted to. He was done waiting, done wanting, done needing to feel her around him again. Now he would touch her. Taste her. Consume her. Damn the repercussions. She was so damn sweet, so damn hot, so damn wet, and fuck—Stevie rubbed her slick swollen folds against his face—so damn hungry for him. Soft hesitant moans of pleasure escaped her lips as if she were trying not to enjoy what he was doing. He smiled as he drilled his tongue deep into her sweltering cunt, squeezing her ass cheeks as she squirmed against him. It would take an army to pull him off her now. He was too far gone. He was starved for her. There would be no savoring. Not this time; this time was about filling the emptiness inside. He could not devour her fast enough. Slow, deep, hard, he ravaged her eager pussy. Twirling his tongue around her sensitive clit, he licked and sucked it until it was as stiff as he was. He slid his hands down around the

bottom of her ass and caressed the rosebud of her anus. “Jack,” she breathed, as she shivered from the sensation. Her entire body trembled under his assault. He loved the taste of her flushed, salty skin. He wanted her to come in his mouth, in his hand, around his dick. It was his turn to tremble. He wanted everything she was willing to give to him and he wanted to take what she wasn’t. He dipped a finger into her hot box as he suckled her clit. “Jack,” she cried just as her hips bucked against him. In a wild shuddering episode, she came in his mouth. Expertly he continued to suckle her, gentling the pressure and the velocity of his thrusting finger as she rode out the orgasm. When the convulsions turned to quiet tremors, her body loosened, hanging limp from the chains, her breaths so shallow and forced; he wasn’t sure if she was going to survive. When he gently released his lips and finger from her, she moaned, but didn’t move. Standing, he caught his breath as a hard lump formed in his throat. “Jesus,” he softly swore. Her long sensuous body hung taut, breathless, and glistening, from the heavy chain connecting the bag to the ceiling beam. The concave skin of her belly was smooth and dewy. Her smooth mound with just a hint of damp curls glistened with his saliva and her sweat, and for the love of God, her sweet pink sex was so engorged it looked painful. Her head was thrown back, her lips swollen, her eyes closed. Her nostrils flared slightly as she slowly licked her lips. Jack swallowed again and took a step back. Every part of his brain told him to walk away, but everything south of it wanted to tear her apart. Swiping his hand across his face, he took another step back. His cock throbbed painfully in his tightened trousers. He knew he should cut her loose and run for the hills for both their sakes. When her eyelids fluttered open, hanging heavily over those smoky baby blues, he stopped. When they focused on him, darkening more, he knew he was screwed. “Stevie, I’m sorry I—” “Shut up,” she said hoarsely. His jaw clamped shut. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. He wanted to— “Now get the fucking over with so we can both get back to work.” Rooted to the mats, Jack was speechless for the first time in his life. What was he supposed to say to that?

Not a damn thing. Because he was going to do something about it. Now. He slipped his hand into his front pocket and pulled out a condom. He’d stopped at the first drugstore he came upon on his way to Stevie’s. He bought a box of four, but threw all save one away. His way of forcing himself not to go past the one-time line. Yeah, big mistake, ’cause once was not going to be enough. He shoved his trousers and underwear down his thighs. As he set his impatient cock free, he groaned. Pre-cum dampened the head. He rolled the condom down his thick shaft as he kicked off his shoes and slacks. When he looked up at Stevie he caught his breath. Her nipples were hard, her pupils dilated, and her sweltering tits rose and fell in poorly contained anticipation. He stepped toward her and her legs rose, showing him her sweet dewy sex as she caught him around the waist, drawing him into her. He reached up to untie her. “Leave it,” she rasped. His eyes questioned hers. He wanted to fuck, yes, but not like this. He wanted her arms around him. He wanted to hold her close to him as he entered her. No matter how hard he tried to keep things just about sex between them, unfamiliar emotions forced their way into the equation. Like now. Jack didn’t make love, he fucked. But he didn’t want to fuck Stevie; he wanted to make love to her. It was why he’d left, all those years ago. “Let’s not make this more than what it is, Jack: we’re scratching an itch. Now, scratch.” He pretended that her words didn’t bite. That she was just hiding behind them because, like him, she was afraid of what she really wanted. He slid his fingertips up along the inside of her arm, stopping at her taped hand, where he entwined his fingers with hers. “Okay, Stevie,” he said huskily against her cheek. “You can have it your way this time.” “This is the only time.” “Next time, you come to me, sweetheart.” He lifted her bottom with his free hand and positioned her above his eager cock. As he slid up into her, he trembled, the experience more emotionally moving than he’d thought it would be. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. Like a fist, her soft, firm warmth clung to him. Breathless, she gulped for air and he smiled as he moved completely into her. Buried deep, afraid he’d come if he moved, Jack closed his eyes and savored the intense pleasure her body gave his. He was beyond worked up. He’d been waiting for this for seven years. And now that he was here, he didn’t want it to end. “This is more than scratching an itch,” he rasped against

her neck. What that more was, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to let her go. Not again. Not so fast. He slowly withdrew, then thrust high and deep. Stevie’s legs tightened around his waist. Opening his eyes, he glanced at her, wanting to see in her eyes that this meant more to her too. Her eyes were closed, but the expression on her face told him everything he needed to know. Bliss. He smiled triumphantly as she opened her smoldering eyes. Passion sparked dark and deep within them. “This doesn’t mean I like you, Jack Thornton,” she gasped as he pounded into her. She arched against him, squeezing his waist with her legs tightly wrapped around him. God. Damn. Holding her right ass cheek with his left hand to steady her as he plundered her, Jack grasped the back of her head with his right hand and dipped his head to her sultry neck, scraping his teeth down her jugular. “You don’t have to like me.” Not yet, anyway. Slow. Measured. Deep. Tremors wracked her body as her breath expelled in a long, lush sigh. He did that to her. The tension in her body changed and he knew she was on the edge of an orgasm. All she needed was a gentle push. He tugged a nipple ring with his lips as he ground into her. And she flew. He launched. His orgasm rode with hers into God knew where. It came long, hard, and so deep from within him, Jack nearly lost his footing, it shook him so fiercely. He grasped her harder as she surged against him, riding her orgasm out. Her low moans of pleasure and soft, warm breath against his cheek stirred him beyond their orgasms. His lips brushed across hers and his tongue slid along her bottom lip. Her mouth opened to his. He groaned, delving into her as the remnants of their orgasms worked through them. He couldn’t get her close enough to him. He didn’t want to let her go. Not so soon. Not again. Bodies spent, they remained connected, each unable to move. Stevie was plastered against him, his arms around her bottom and back. As violent as his orgasm had been, he was still

hard inside of her. Her muscles clenched and unclenched around him, still milking him. Smiling, he lifted his head from where he had rested it in the nook of her shoulder. They were hot and sweat-soaked, and he’d never thought her sexier. He kissed the curve of her cheek as he slid his fingers into her damp hair. Her body stiffened and it wasn’t because she wanted more of what he had just given her, though he had no doubt that was true. She had her fighting gloves back on. He respected it. Reaching up, he untied her. Then with her legs still locked around his waist, he moved out of her slowly. As soon as he let her legs down and they touched the mat, she pushed off him and grabbed her clothes. “You can go now, Special Agent,” she said, not looking at him. “I don’t want to.” Her head snapped back and her eyes narrowed. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want.” He discreetly removed the heavy condom, but held it up. “Bathroom?” Instead she grabbed a small trash can from the steps leading to the house and held it out for him. He dropped it inside and proceeded to dress. He didn’t hurry. Because he wasn’t leaving. “I’m hungry,” he said casually. Setting her hands on her hips, she made a snarling sound, then said, “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here, having your way with me, and demanding food.” “I can’t help it. I haven’t eaten all day and you just fucked what energy I had left out of me.” “I fucked you? You chained me to the goddamn ceiling!” He smiled, liking it when her dander was up. There wasn’t much about her he didn’t like. “And I didn’t hear even a whimper of a complaint from you, either.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. He backed up a step, then turned the subject back to his stomach. “Fine, Stevie, I fucked you, you can pretend you hated it. I won’t pretend I loved it, or that I want to do it again, soon, but none of that changes the fact that I’m hungry.” Stevie walked over to the control panel by the door and hit a button. The garage door began to ascend. “Between here and the hole you crawled out of this morning, I’m sure you can find some sustenance.” Jack’s smile widened as he slid his belt on. “I was thinking you and me and a couple of

Val’s burgers.” “Val’s is closed on Mondays.” He nodded. “Okay, then I’m not going to be picky right now, Stevie. I’m hungry and I don’t want to leave, so how about if we order some pizza?” The incredulous look that crossed her face at his suggestion was priceless. He chuckled. “By that look I’d say you’re not feeling it.” “Not even close.” He slid on his shoes and glanced over at her, all dewy and defiant. Damn if he wasn’t getting hard again. “I have your flash drive. I know you’re hungry, and I know that as much as you want me, you’ll control yourself while we recharge and finish going over your case notes.” Stevie couldn’t believe his audacity. No one had a bigger set of balls than Jackson Thornton. “Keep the flash drive, I’m not hungry, and contrary to your overinflated ego, I don’t want you again.” Just saying the words conjured up what had just happened and the sense of power it had given her. She had been the one chained, but it was Jack who had lost control. Despite that, hell if she were going to order pizza and get all cozy with him in her house after he just barged in and ravaged her. A girl had her pride and she was drawing the line right here, right now. “Let’s put our mutual lust aside for the moment. Time is not on our side regarding our case. I prefer to be briefed by you, then by your notes—” “I really don’t care what you prefer at the moment, Jack. You had no right coming into my house and—” “And what, Stevie?” he asked his tone low and demanding. “Taking from you what you wanted to give me but were too damn stubborn to offer?” “You can’t just show up seven years after walking out on me without even a ‘see ya later’ and expect me to drop for you!” “Is that what this is about?” “Part of it, yes.”

“I said I was sorry.” “Sorry doesn’t cut it with me.” “I should have called. I wanted to—” “But you didn’t. Why?” Jamming his fingers through his hair, Jack loudly exhaled, but looked pointedly at her. “I had my phone turned off when I was with you that night, Stevie. When I woke up at dawn, you were passed out across my chest. I needed to hit the john. I slipped out of bed and something told me to check my phone. I did. I had a dozen frantic calls from my sister and just as many texts. My niece had been abducted by her father. I took off. I had every intention of calling you.” “Why didn’t you?” He stared at her for a hard long minute then said, “Because by the time I tracked that asshole down and retrieved my niece, two days had passed. Then Quantico called and said they had a last-minute cancellation for the academy and if I wanted the spot I needed to be in Virginia within the next ten hours. I moved and was on the next flight east. I hit the ground running.” “A simple text, Jack.” He nodded. “You’re right and in hindsight, I realize I took the coward’s way out. I figured if you thought I was a schmuck it would get me off the hook.” “Off what hook?” He swiped his hand across his face. “I saw the way you looked at me. I knew you wanted more from me than I could give you.” Fury balled up like a fist in her chest. She punched him hard in the gut. He took it without flinching. “Well, I guess you shouldn’t have led me the fuck on and then fucked me!” He was her first and her only. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to wake up after my first time with a man to find him gone without a trace? I kept wondering what I had done wrong. How I had fucked up being fucked!” “Oh, God no, Stevie, you were amazing. I—Christ—I could have stayed in bed with you forever.” His eyes softened. “I didn’t know I was your first. If I had, I never would have touched you.” Stevie threw her hands up and stomped across the mats, putting distance between them.

Otherwise, she’d geld him. “Do you know how perfectly egotistical you sound right now?” She began pacing the edge of the mats. “For the last seven years I have beaten myself up for scaring you off, only to find out you thought that if you reached out, I’d try to sink my hooks into you. Well, guess what, Jack? You’re a coward. I don’t want a cowardly man. And I certainly don’t want a man who doesn’t want me, so consider yourself – Off. The. Hook!” If a man could look sheepish, angry, and horny all at the same time that is how Stevie would describe the expression on Jack’s face. “If there was anyone I could settle down with, it would be you, sweetheart,” he quietly said. His words startled her into silence. She wanted to believe him. But this was Hit-and-Run Jack she was talking to. “Yeah, well, that ship has sailed.” “I meant it when I told you earlier today I was sorry.” “And I meant it when I agreed that you were.” She exhaled and pulled the hairband from her long braid. Digging her fingers into the thick strands, she shook her head. When she looked up and caught Jack’s hot gaze on her, she lost some of her steam. She would try to forgive him, but it would take time. In that time, he could suffer a little. “Look all you want, but don’t touch me again.” She strode past him and as she opened the door to the house, she said over her shoulder, “The pizza menus are in the drawer by the phone in the kitchen. Best pizza in the county is Gay Nineties on Angela and they deliver. I’m taking a shower.”

CHAPTER NINE

F rom her blow-dried hair that hung in a soft heavy mass past her shoulders, to her shaved legs, coconut-scented body lotion, and flirty little white romper, Stevie looked far from innocent after her shower. In fact, she looked, smelled, and felt, highly fuckable. That’s exactly what she’d intended. She wanted Jack panting at her feet. She needed to prove to them both that despite her body’s weakness for his; she was in control, not her body and certainly not Jack. Because as much as she didn’t want to accept his excuse for running out on her, she got it. She had been thinking of them as a happy forever couple. Embarrassment fizzed through her as she remembered the way she’d followed his every move, waiting breathlessly for those amazing jade-colored eyes to settle on her, if only for a moment. She’d lived and died for his acknowledgment. She would have settled down in a heartbeat. Not Jack. He’d been, and still was, the proverbial rolling stone. Even if she’d somehow managed to get him to stay for a while, he would have moved on. It was just who he was. If she didn’t forgive him now, she never would because Jack Thornton was not going to change. So the question was: Could she accept him the way he was? The answer, surprisingly

enough was, yes. She could. But in that, she made this promise to herself: She would never again allow her fantasies about Jack to control her reality. She was not going to settle for anything less than a man willing to meet her halfway. Hell, she didn’t even want a man in her life. She was too busy with her caseload and could not give him what she demanded in a relationship, so there was no point. She shivered as she remembered Jack’s hands and lips on her body. How good it felt when he entered her. Dear Lord, it was the best feeling in the world. She gave herself one more glance in the mirror before she headed back to the only man who knew just what to do to make her fall apart. Damn him anyway. Why couldn’t he be more manageable? Because if he was, you’d lose interest. True that. As Stevie entered the small family room of her little house, Jack looked up from his cell phone and audibly hissed in a sharp breath. Stevie smirked and strode past him as she grabbed her laptop off her desk, then began to hook it up to her flat screen TV. Without looking his way, she said, “Better close your mouth, Jack, or you’ll catch a fly.” “Really, Stevie?” he drawled. Continuing to focus on booting up her laptop, she asked, “Really Stevie, what?” “You’re just asking for it.” His husky voice left no room for misunderstanding. She was a prick tease and his prick was interested. Now if only she could turn her body’s reaction to his reaction off, she’d be good to go. But alas . . . She turned her gaze to his and smiled as her desktop flashed up on the TV. “Asking for what?” “Me inside of you all over again.” His words elicited a warm flush from her nipples straight to her womb. “If I want you inside of me, I’ll put you inside of me.” He leaned forward across her coffee table, but didn’t get up. “You’re afraid to ask for it. You’re afraid to acknowledge your need for what I can give you.” Moving over to the edge of the sofa nearest the TV and farthest from him, she sat back into the soft cushions and caught and held his gaze. “You’re not the only man out there with a

talented penis, Jack.” He grinned and leaned closer. “Who else have you been with since me?” Did battery-powered boyfriends count? “That’s none of your business.” His eye widened and Stevie realized he guessed her secret. “You haven’t been with anyone, have you?” Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “Like I said, who I’ve slept with since you is none of your business.” He sat back, spread his long arms across the sofa cushions on either side of him, and considered her answers. She was a lousy liar, but for the sake of her pride and not inflating Jack’s ego any more than it was, she thought she sounded damned convincing. “I doubt you’ve had another lover.” “What makes you so sure I haven’t had sex with anyone since you?” “Because I was that good.” Stevie’s jaw dropped. My God, he is so full of himself! “And I know your little secret. Who else does?” She snapped her jaw shut, then said, “My sex life is off the table for discussion. The only reason you’re here is because I want to nail Spoltori more than I want to never see your face again. So let’s get to it.” The doorbell rang. Jack stood. “Pizza’s here.” She stared at his ass as he sauntered off to get it. She really needed to focus on the case and not any part of Jack Thornton’s anatomy. When he came back with a large pizza box and a six-pack of beer, she frowned. “Where’d the beer come from?” “I made it worth the driver’s while to make a stop along the way.” “How?” “I’m a special agent who gets specialty treatment.” He grinned and opened two bottles. Handing her one, he drank deeply from the other. It was cold and it was a brand she liked, though she wasn’t much of a beer drinker. Her preference ran toward good tequila and occasional red wine. The scent of the pizza, however, was right up her alley.

Jack set his bottle down on a coaster and opened the lid. “Oh, Jeff’s Special. My favorite.” Her stomach rumbled as she salivated. Jack slid a large slice onto a paper plate and handed it to her. “I know.” As she took a bite and chewed, savoring the deliciousness, she asked with a full mouth, “How’d you know this was my fave?” Jack grinned and hoisted a large piece to his mouth and said, “It’s my job to know these things.” “What else do you know?” “That you work too many hours, don’t take time off, and bust anyone’s balls who gets in your way.” “Yeah, but my closed case percentage is ninety-four percent.” “Highest in the PD.” She set her pizza down and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Have you been keeping tabs on me, Thorn?” “I’ve made an inquiry or two.” She picked the pizza up and said, “I’m not sure how I feel about that.” “No inappropriate inquiries, just a feel for how you were doing.” She could live with that. Even if he had nosed into her personal life, he’d have discovered she didn’t have one. She devoured the rest of the slice, then took another. “This is good,” Jack said as he took a third slice. As she daintily dabbed her mouth with a napkin, she said, “The chicken wings are to die for.” Jack grinned as chewed. After he swallowed he said, “Next time, I’ll order them to go with.” Taking a long swig of her beer, Stevie set it down and crossing her legs Indian style she faced Jack across the table. “There isn’t going to be a next time, Jack.” His handsome face tightened, but he shrugged his shoulders. “If you say so.” “I say so because it is so. Look—” She moved closer to him, though she made sure she was out of his reach. “I’m over it. The anger. I get why you didn’t call, now. I mean, you were right. I was twenty-one, doe-eyed, and thought I was in love when it was just a high-school crush on my teacher. Even if you had called and stayed to live happily ever after with me, you

would have moved on eventually. Or maybe the crush would have worn off and I would have. Either way, you did us both a favor.” She took another sip of her beer, not liking the way his eyes narrowed. “So I’m forgiven?” he asked doubtfully. “Yes. Like you said earlier today, our history has no relevance now. So let’s move on.” He shook his head. “I said our history had no relevance to our case. I didn’t say it had no relevance in general.” She swallowed hard. “Well, whatever relevance it has or had, it’s over. I want to start with a clean slate from this moment forward.” Jack opened another bottle of beer and took a long swig. He nodded. “Okay.” And raised his bottle to her. “Here’s to new beginnings.” Stevie pulled her legs closer to her body. “If I mean anything to you, anything at all, Jack, you’ll keep our relationship purely business. I don’t want to hurt for another seven years when you disappear again.” His face softened. “I never meant to hurt you.” “I believe that. But now that everything’s out in the open, I want your promise that you won’t do anything to instigate the”—she moved her hand back and forth in a swirling motion between them—“whatever it is that goes on between us when we’re in the same room.” “That’s pure primal pheromonal combustion, sweetheart, plain and simple. Can’t stop what Mother Nature intended.” “We might not be able to make it go away, but we can control it. It will take a commitment from both of us. You more than me since I don’t—” “Pursue?” Her cheeks heated. “Yes, that.” “You’re the most responsive, sensual partner I’ve ever had, Stevie. When you let loose, it’s a beautiful thing to see. Why is it that you can’t—” “I don’t want to talk about it!” she said standing up. “Please.” She hurried to the bathroom and peed. When she was done and washed her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dilated, and for the love of God, her nipples tented the romper. She needed to focus on her case. As that thought flipped through her mind, the faces of the

victims swam before her, soundly shutting down her libido. For them she would control her Jack urges. Giving herself a curt you-can-do-this nod in the mirror, she opened the door. Jack stood there, arm across the doorway, smelling like sex. Her scent, his scent, the sex scent they created, swam like an aphrodisiac between them. His trousers were on the rise as his brilliant eyes swept the length of her, stopping at her thickening nipples. Jesus, we’re combustible. “Stevie,” he said huskily, then cleared his throat. “While you were in the bathroom, I got a call from Deavers. Spoltori just showed up at a fundraiser in Danville for the mayor. I think he may be trolling for his next vic.” “I want in.” “Me too.” Stevie pushed past him and said, “I can be dressed to kill in ten minutes, but you smell like a gigolo.” “And you smell like a come-fuck-me commercial,” he threw back. Stevie smiled. “Yeah, I know.” Jack cocked a brow and looked like he was going to call her on it but instead said, “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to jump in the shower real quick and we can go together.” Stevie bit her bottom lip. Every sense she possessed said no. But she heard the words, “Fine, but you need to use my bathroom; it’s the only one with a shower,” slide from her lips. “Too bad you already took one,” he teased. As he turned and walked down the short hall, she yelled after him. “Behave yourself, Thorn, or I won’t take you at your word!”

CHAPTER TEN

“I think I should go incognito,” Stevie called to Jack, who was in the shower with the door cracked. “You know, wear something that won’t call attention or scream cop. Maybe add a wig. How about blond?” Or short brunette like the victims? “Not a bad idea,” he called back. Standing in her walk-in closet, wearing only a pair of black lacy thong underwear and matching demi cup bra, she scanned the racks for the appropriate attire. She had a few wigs from an undercover prostitution sting she’d been part of a few years ago. She wanted to slip under Spoltori’s radar, especially if she managed to get an invite into his dungeon. He’d run if he recognized her. “I like what you’re wearing,” Jack’s husky voice said from behind her. She started and turned to find him leaning against the bathroom doorjamb, holding a damp towel low around his hips. The indent of his stirring cock was plainly outlined against the white cotton. Jack Thornton had one amazing body. He was tall, six three, two hundred and maybe thirty pounds. His musculature was long, lean but heavy, and clearly defined. The dark hair on his chest was just short enough not to hide his definition, and she loved the way it trailed down his belly to nest around his generous endowment. The way he was right now, damp from his shower, his short hair pushed back…Well, he was decidedly the most fuckable

man on the planet. The itch that had been scratched was starting to bother her again. With a will of their own, her eyes dipped again to his thickening penis. Placing her hands on her hips, Stevie fronted him off. “You’re not behaving.” “I can’t control that guy,” Jack defended inclining his head toward his rabble rouser. “Not around you, especially when you’re strutting your stuff under my nose.” “Strutting my stuff?” she asked incredulous, then pointed at his rising towel. “Put a leash on that thing, Jack, or it’s going to get you into big trouble.” “It’s already gotten me into big trouble,” he said, sauntering toward her. She was having none of it. If he touched her, as wound up as she still was from what had happened in the garage, she’d end up on her back with him buried so deeply inside of her she wouldn’t want to move. They had a job to do and she had a heart to protect. She backed deeper into her closet. “Don’t. You promised.” “I don’t remember making any such promise.” He stopped, but his eyes raked her from head to toe and back again and again. “You make it extremely difficult not to think of you in my arms, Stevie.” She could say the same thing, but that would give him more ammunition. Just because she had forgiven him didn’t mean her heart didn’t still ache. Jack was it for her. She knew it just as plain as the sight of him standing front of her. Only problem was that he didn’t feel the same way. Hell, was he even capable of a monogamous relationship? Doubtful. If he was, despite everything that had happened between them, she still wanted to be that girl. Dream on. “I have an easy fix for that. Every time you think of me in your arms, underneath you, on you, around you, imagine it’s one of our vics. It takes the sting out of the lust real quick.” She turned and stood up on her toes as she reached for a plastic-wrapped suit on the top rack in the back corner of the closet. Jack wolf-whistled. She smiled, knowing he couldn’t see her expression, but sternly said, “Stop harassing me, Thornton.” “Stop looking so fuckable and I will.” When his arms slid around her waist and pulled her back against his chest, and his nose dipped into her clean hair as he softly inhaled her, Stevie resisted her body’s natural

inclination to lean back into him. She turned around and, despite their state of undress, she considered his request. “Really? Are you that much of a pig?” He grinned and rubbed his nose across hers. “I’m only a pig around you.” “Well stop.” She pushed off him and turned back to grab the suit and stopped mid reach when Jack asked softy, “What if I don’t want to?” She turned back to him and scowled. “It doesn’t matter what you want, Jack. I’ve asked you nicely, several times, to stop, but you use our attraction as a weapon to get what you want. I want you to shut it down.” “Why?” She rolled her eyes and turned back for the suit again. “Because I don’t want my heart broken again.” “What if it won’t be?” Pulling the suit against her, she turned slowly. “You can’t make that promise.” “I can promise to try.” Stevie inhaled sharply. “What are you saying?” “That I want permission to sexually harass you.” “And—?” “I’ll promise to try and not break your heart.” Shocked, her jaw dropped. Was this his attempt at a relationship? Did she even dare? Not if she didn’t want to lose her heart forever. Laughter burst from her. “Oh, Jack, that’s so sweet of you, but I’ll pass.” She strode past him and said, “Your shirt’s in the dryer on fluff. Hopefully that will get the sex smell out of it. Hop to it, we have a killer to catch.” As she headed to the half bath down the hall to dress, Jack yelled, “Be careful what you ask for, Cavanaugh, you might get it!” “Promises, promises.” Twenty minutes later, dressed in a navy designer suit, short brunette wig that Jack didn’t care for, brown contacts, and spiffy leopard print glasses, Stevie got behind the wheel of her GT500 Shelby with a grumpy special agent riding shotgun. They headed north on 680 to the affluent township of Danville and Spoltori. She glanced at him and inwardly smiled. If he wanted a relationship he was going to have

to work for it. “Stop pouting, Jack.” “I don’t pout.” “Yeah, you do.” “A guy has the right to be frustrated.” “Not when he pulled the crap you pulled. Move on.” He pulled out his cell as it vibrated and read the text, then said, “My man on the inside said the place is hopping.” “Better to blend in.” Excitement fluttered in her belly. She was going to get an up close look at her killer. “We go in separately. Together we’ll attract too much attention and we won’t be able to cover as much space,” Jack said. “Is the mayor in attendance?” “Yes. My man, Ryker, gave the mayor’s detail a heads-up not to give you away.” “Good.” They didn’t need the mayor asking her in front of the killer how the case to arrest him was going. “We keep a low profile and look for middle-aged women that fit Spoltori’s type. We get names and, if possible, pictures.” “I want DNA,” Stevie said. Having it sooner than later wouldn’t bog down an arrest.” “Don’t get that close to him.” “I hadn’t planned to, but if he touches anything and sets it down or throws it out, I’m grabbing it.” She pointed to the glove compartment. “There’s an evidence bag and gloves in there; would you pull them out and put them in my purse?” As Jack did so, he asked, “What kind of office staff does Spoltori have and are there any other advisors in his office?” “He has a secretary, Joan Schillner. She was his alibi for each killing.” “That screams bullshit.” “She swears they were at the office working late those nights.” “Any security cameras to back that up?” “None. He was smart, Jack; he set up shop where he couldn’t be watched.” “Who interviewed her?” “Oliveras. Again, I stayed back when Spoltori became our main suspect. My gut kept telling

me not to reveal myself to him at this stage of the game. I’d never get an invite into his dungeon if he knew I was a cop or suspected I was anyone other than who I made myself out to be.” “You’re not going into anyone’s dungeon, not even for a conviction.” Stevie ignored his bluster. “Your ex-partner Oliveras is a joke. I want more background on Schillner. Maybe Spoltori has something on her. I’ll take a crack at her tomorrow before we head to the airport.” “Airport?” He grinned and looked at her. “Didn’t I tell you? We’re flying to DC tomorrow night.” “No, you didn’t tell me!” she said, excited. That he had made it possible for her to travel back East for more on the case pushed Jack’s stock up a few points. “Spoltori’s aunt is there. Then we’re driving to Baltimore and meeting with the detectives who had her daughter’s case. I also have a meeting scheduled with the ME to go over the autopsy.” “Captain Russo is springing for my ticket?” “Yes, but the agency will spring for your room and ground transportation.” “Two rooms.” His smile faded, but he nodded. “Two rooms.” Several moments later they pulled up in front of the swank Blackhawk Country Club. Stevie flashed her badge and waved the valet off when he came for her keys. “Official business, leave it where it is.” “I love it when you’re bossy,” Jack said coming around as she stepped up onto the walkway. He reached out to take her elbow, but she shook her head. “If you hadn’t been such a jerk, I’d have shown you just how bossy I could be.” Jack scowled, but left the comment alone. As they made their way back toward the Grand Ballroom, they were met by a tall golden haired Adonis in a dark suit who made eye contact with Jack first, then gave Stevie a slowly appreciative but oddly inoffensive appraisal. He indicated they should follow him to a private area just outside of the entrance so as not to be overheard by bystanders. “You must be the infamous Detective Cavanaugh,” he said, smiling and extending his hand. “Special Agent Flynn Ryker.” Stevie smiled brightly when she detected Jack’s scowl.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Special Agent Ryker.” His hands were big and warm and neatly manicured. No denying their strength. “Please, call me Flynn.” “Okay, Flynn, now that the intros are made, give us an update,” Jack said roughly. Flynn handed Jack and Stevie minute earpieces. As they placed them, Flynn started, “Our boy is flying solo, but sticking close to the mayor’s entourage. There are several women who fit the victim profile. As of yet, he hasn’t cut one from the herd. But several are vying for his attention.” As Stevie inserted the earpiece, she told them what she knew about the mayor. “Mayor Dyer is very popular with Oaklandites. He’s well connected in all the surrounding Bay Area counties. Lots of wealthy supporters with lots of money to grease his political wheels. “I know the mayor personally; he and my father were fast friends since their Cal days. He spent many a day and hour at our Piedmont home. He’s smart, hardworking, and political.” “He sounds like the perfect candidate,” Flynn said. Stevie sighed. “Not quite. I know the mayor has a bit of a straying eye.” “Did he hit on you?” Jack asked. “No, but about a year before my father died, Donald was at the house without Claire, his wife, and Dad was laying into him about keeping it in his pants if he wanted to be governor one day.” “No specifics on who the mayor was dallying with?” Flynn asked. Stevie racked her brain. “No, it was a generalization. I had the feeling it wasn’t specific to one woman in particular but women in general, as if he’d had more than one or two affairs.” “Let’s keep an eye on that,” Jack said. Then, “Stevie, since Ryker and I look like the feds that we are and you don’t, go ahead of us. I don’t want us to be seen together and blow your cover.” As she entered the ballroom she was nudged by two men who had had a few too many. Moving out of their way she progressed deeper into the room to get the lay of the land. Roughly forty plus, twelve top tables. The room capacity was five hundred fifty. Multiply that times the fifteen-hundred-dollar-a-plate entry fee; she whistled. Nearly a million dollars. That was some serious bank. “Excuse me, miss, but I couldn’t help but admire your suit. I’d love to know where I could

buy one for my girlfriend.” The voice was deep with a sinister edge to it. The hair on the back of Stevie’s neck spiked when her brain registered who it was that spoke. Slowly she turned and looked Mario Spoltori straight in the eye.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

S tevie leashed her shock at the man’s audacity while ignoring the way her skin crawled. Spoltori’s appearance was either highly coincidental or by design, and Stevie didn’t believe in coincidences when it came to murder. Spoltori smiled down at her, the creases around his pale blue eyes deep. If she didn’t know better she’d think he was genuine. She wasn’t fooled. The man was a sociopathic killer. Stevie smiled back. “You have good taste. This is Valentino.” “Oh,” he said, frowning. “That sounds expensive.” “It is. This is two seasons ago, but still a classic. It set me back a few thousand.” He smiled again. “My girlfriend is worth it.” Then he shook his head and said, “Where are my manners? My name is Mario and I promise I’m not a crazy stalker.” Stevie took his hand and shook it, finding it warm but damp. “My name is Stephanie and I promise I’m not one either.” They both laughed and for one millisecond, Stevie wished Jack and Flynn were flanking her in the presence of such evil. That they were out of view didn’t mean that she was out of theirs, but . . . “I’d be happy to ask the buyer from the little boutique I bought this from if she can track down another one.” “I’d really appreciate that.” Spoltori slid his hand into his suit breast pocket and withdrew a

card, handing it to her. “My cell and e-mail, either one works.” “I’ll give her a call tomorrow.” Stevie took the card and carefully slipped it into her purse, then asked, “Are you a friend of the mayor’s?” “Business associate. I manage his campaign funds.” She glanced around the room as if she was gauging the bank accounts of the attendees, but in actuality she was looking for Jack and Flynn’s positions. They had split up, each flanking her at about fifty feet as they appeared engrossed in conversation with a fellow Dyer supporter. “At fifteen hundred dollars a plate, and the number of supporters here tonight, looks like you’re going to have a nice chunk of change to manage.” “It would be chunkier if the food and venue were donated.” He looked out over the crowd before settling his cool gaze back on her. “Would you like me to introduce you to Mayor Dyer?” “I’d love that. I’m a big fan.” “This was a shitty idea, Stevie, beg off,” Jack said. When Spoltori took her elbow and steered her toward the throng surrounding the man of the hour, Stevie couldn’t hold back the shudder that rippled through her. Maybe Jack was right. “What do you do, Stephanie?” “I—” Stevie thought quickly. “I’m an adventure guide.” Spoltori’s fingers tightened around her elbow as he pushed through the crowd. “Adventure guide? Interesting. What adventures do you recommend?” “Mountain climbing, skydiving, white-water rafting.” “Vanilla.” “Vanilla is what most clients want. But I have a few that like a wilder adventure.” “Oh?” “I even have two that”—she hesitated, not wanting to come off too obvious, but decided to take the chance—“actually like to be kidnapped.” “What happens to them when they get kidnapped?” Stevie shrugged and smiled. “I can’t divulge that information.” Spoltori’s eyes glittered. “I understand. I have a little side business that requires the same client discretion.” Forcing a smile, Steve offered, “Maybe one day I can kidnap you.”

Spoltori’s eyes glittered like ice. “Or maybe I could kidnap you?” “Don’t encourage him, damn it!” Jack growled in her earpiece. She ignored him. Spoltori was biting. She didn’t have enough to hook him. Yet. “I’ve always been intrigued by my clients who swear by the rush they get from it. I might just take you up on it.” “Given how you dress, I would never have pegged you for an adrenaline junkie, Stephanie.” “There are two sides to every coin, Mario.” She looked up to him and gave him a flirty little half smile. “You might just be a little shocked by the woman lurking beneath this navy suit and how far she’s willing to go for a thrill.” Spoltori flashed her a harrowing grin. Her body reacted with a hard chill she was unable to hide. “I like the sound of that, Stephanie.” “Do not offer to meet him,” Jack commanded. As they approached the mayor, he happened to look up from a conversation he was having with an avid supporter. He smiled at Stevie, then quickly looked away as if he didn’t know her. Once the intros were made, Stevie grabbed two glasses of champagne handing Spoltori one. To her surprise, he took it. She raised her flute to Spoltori. “Here’s to designer suits and new adventures.” “To new friends.” He clinked her glass and took a sip before placing his flute back on the tray. The server’s lips tightened, and with his gloved hand he moved it to the far side of the full glasses. As the server continued through the crowd, she watched Flynn approach him, spin him around so his back was to Spoltori, take the cloth napkin from the server’s arm and use it to remove the flute from the tray. “I’d be honored if you sat at my table for dinner,” Spoltori said. “Decline,” Jack said in her ear. “I’d love to,” Stevie said, “but I have a client to meet in about”—she glanced at her watch —“an hour and I still have work to do before I meet with him.” Spoltori’s lips tightened before he smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes not consistent with

the expression. Despite his attempts at warmth, he was blizzard cold. “Even if your friend can’t locate the Valentino, please call me.” Stevie smiled. “I had planned to.” She excused herself and slowly but purposefully walked away, knowing that Spoltori was watching her every step. Once out of his line of view she hurried to the ladies’ room, where she took the evidence bag from her purse and carefully transferred the card Spoltori had given her into it then put it back in her purse. “Flynn,” she said, “Meet me outside of the ladies’ room off the west doorway and hand me the flute.” “I’m outside the door.” Stevie poked her head out the door with an open evidence bag. Flynn dropped the flute into it and she sealed it. “Got you, Spoltori,” she said triumphantly. Once Flynn took the evidence, she ducked back into the ladies’ room and exhaled slowly. That was a close, creepy, and unnerving as hell encounter with Spoltori. “Dinner is being served and Spoltori is seated up front at the mayor’s table,” Jack said, “With everyone sitting now, it’s easier to scan the room for possible targets. Another set of eyes would be nice.” The bathroom door opened and in walked the woman who had spent the afternoon in Spoltori’s bed. Her dark brown eyes looked right through Stevie. Snotty bitch. The woman’s cell phone rang inside of her Chanel purse, to the tune of “Closer,” by Nine Inch Nails. She threw Stevie a look that said, beat it, my phone call is more important than anything you have to do here. When Stevie moved to the sink to wash her hands so that she could eavesdrop, the woman moved to the far stall. “Hello there,” she said in a deep, inviting voice. The caller said something that made her laugh. “I am yours to command.” Then, “Don’t worry about him; he’s got his eye on some twit walking around in come-fuck-me heels.” The caller said something else that prompted, “I’d love to. I’ll see you then.” She hung up, pushed the stall door open, caught and held Stevie’s amused stare, then brushed past her like the

Queen of Sheba. “I think our next vic was Spoltori’s five o’clock today. She just walked out of the ladies’ room. Follow her.” “Spoltori is eating dinner,” Jack said. “Was he just on his cell phone?” “No, but the mayor was.” Disappointment swept through her as realization struck. Why was it so hard for a man to be faithful? “Damn him! I’ll bet my badge she’s meeting the mayor for a little tryst. Do we know who she is?” “Regina Welsh, Senator John Welsh’s wife.” Stevie whistled. “I don’t get it, but we need a tail on her and the mayor.” “The mayor just got up and is making excuses,” Jack said. “Spoltori doesn’t look pleased.” “Mrs. Welsh is heading back toward the pool,” Flynn said. “Keep an eye on her,” Jack instructed. “From the looks of it, Spoltori is having serious private words with the mayor just out of view, to the left of the podium.” “Do you think Spoltori knows? Did either one of you see him with Mrs. Welsh in the ballroom?” “Negative,” Jack and Flynn said in tandem. Stevie walked from the restroom back into the ballroom. “What are you doing, Cavanaugh? You’re supposed to be gone.” Jack asked. “I’m going to eavesdrop.” “Be careful,” Jack cautioned. “Always,” she whispered. Approaching silently, she heard their heated words. “I’ve told you what would happen if you keep chasing pussy,” Spoltori spat. “Just do what I hired you to do, Mario,” Mayor Dyer said, turning and coming face-to-face with Stevie. His face flushed deep red before he hurried past her. Spoltori’s frigid eyes speared her where she stood. For the first time in a very long time, Stevie was actually in fear for her safety. “My client canceled,” she explained. “I thought I’d come back and take you up on the dinner offer.” He shook his head moving past her. “Dinner’s over for me. Please excuse me.”

Stevie moved aside and simply nodded. When he was out of earshot, she said, “Spoltori is livid.” “What did you hear?” Jack asked. “Spoltori telling Mayor Dyer to back off the pussy, to which the mayor responded, ‘Just do what I hired you to do, Mario.’” “I have a man on Mrs. Welsh. She’s in one of the pool cabanas.” “Should we intercept them?” Stevie asked walking toward the back of the ballroom. “We’re not the morality police, Detective,” Jack said. “Spoltori just peeled out in his Beemer,” Flynn said. “We have a man on him.” “Morality police or not, I want to talk to Mayor Dyer,” Stevie said. She was angry for Claire and for the people of Oakland. “Better hurry, he’s making a beeline for the cabana,” Jack said.

CHAPTER TWELVE

S tevie stood outside the draped cabana listening to Mayor Dyer love up on Mrs. Welsh. It was kind of creepy, given she’d considered him a father figure. Bursting in on him right now didn’t seem right, so she listened, hoping to get a little tidbit about Spoltori or, hell, anything she could use. “Donny,” the senator’s wife moaned. “You know what I want.” The rustle of clothing coming off mingled with the soothing strains of music flowing through the outdoor speakers. “Looks like someone else gave you what you want already,” he accused. “Only because you’re so hesitant.” The sound of an open hand smacking flesh startled Stevie. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle the gasp. “Oh, Donny,” Mrs. Welsh mewled. He slapped her again, and this time the mayor’s grunt of satisfaction followed Mrs. Welsh’s gasp of pain. “Yes, Donny,” she moaned. “Just like that.” “Who did you fuck today?” he demanded. When she giggled, yes, giggled, he slapped her again and from the moan that followed it, she liked it. His increasing violence disturbed Stevie.

“Tell me who you fucked, Gina. If you don’t, no cock for you.” He slapped her again and this time a whimper of genuine pain escaped the woman’s lips. Stevie stepped back several feet, then called, “Mayor Dyer?” The cabana moved as the inhabitants hastily sought to make themselves presentable. “Sir?” she called. “Stevie?” He called as he appeared, readjusting his tie, acting as if he were taking a stroll around the pool area. “What are you doing out here?” “I’d like a private word if possible.” He cleared his throat and extended his arm, motioning for her to walk ahead of him. “Of course, why don’t we have a seat over here where it’s quiet?” As they sat down the mayor looked over her shoulder to the cabana. “Mrs. Welsh is heading straight for the ballroom,” Jack said. Feeling uncomfortable discussing the mayor’s sex life, Stevie put her personal feelings aside. “Sir, I’m not one to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I know where you just were and who you were with. I need—” His brown eyes narrowed as did his tone. “Young lady, what I do is none of your business.” He stood. She pushed back with a tone of her own. “It is when you’re fucking a senator’s wife and I have reason to believe she’s the Cain killer’s next victim.” “Remember who you’re talking to.” She stood and faced him. “How dare you act so indignant? You’re my godfather! Dad would disown you if he knew what you were doing!” “I need her husband’s support and his constituent’s votes to get to Sacramento.” There was no remorse, no contrition, only righteous justification. “Then fuck him!” His brown eyes flared furiously. “Because I loved your old man like a brother and because you are my goddaughter, I’m going to pretend this conversation never happened. Now please leave the premises.” “I need to know what, if any, kind of relationship Mrs. Welsh has with your campaign finance manager.” The color leached from his face. “Mario?”

Stevie nodded. “Mario.” “None that I know of; why?” “I have information that links them in a sexual relationship.” “That’s not likely.” Stevie raised her brow. “Because…?” “Mario doesn’t swing that way.” “You’re saying he’s gay?” “I know he is.” That explained why he couldn’t get it up for the demanding senator’s wife. “How do you know?” The mayor looked anxiously past her again. “I just do,” he said, and then caught her intent stare. “Please leave it at that.” “I’m sorry, sir,” Stevie pushed, “but I need to know everything you can tell me about Mr. Spoltori.” “Mayor Dyer?” a man called, “your guests are asking for a few words from you.” “I’m coming, Jason.” “Sir,” Stevie said. “I’d like you to scratch out some time for me at the end of the week. I don’t know how, but my gut is telling me the Cain killer is linked to your run for governor.” His eyes widened in surprise. “That’s ridiculous. Everyone I work with has been vetted– they’re clean.” “Nevertheless, sir, I want to speak to you this week.” “Okay, Stevie, call my office and set it up. I want this case closed as much as you do. It’s worth a lot of votes.” He walked past her as Jack came her way. “Never mind that it will take a killer off the streets,” Jack said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe he’s having sex with that woman for votes!” Stevie said, disgusted by it all. “You didn’t tell me the mayor was your godfather.” “Yeah, there’s a lot I’m not telling you.” Stevie was greatly disturbed that the man she loved like a father would stoop so low for votes. She shivered and looked up at Jack, who stood staring at her with a pensive expression. “What?”

“I know you have a set of balls, Stevie, you don’t have to keep whipping them out and shoving them in my face.” “I could say the same thing to you, Jack, except you whip yours out for a different reason.” He grinned. “Maybe if you stopped busting them every chance you got, you would see they’re not so bad.” “I’ll never get tired of busting them.” “Hey, kids, can we get back to the case?” Flynn said in her earpiece. Stevie laughed. “Shut up, Flynn or I’ll bust your balls, too.” “I’m always up for a workout, Detective.” His meaning was not lost on either her or Jack. Jack scowled and what sounded close to a growl rumbled up from his chest. Stevie laughed again and as she turned to walk back into the ballroom, Jack grasped her bicep and gently pulled her around to face him. Taking his earpiece out, he slid it into his pocket. He reached up to her ear and did the same thing. Then he lowered his lips to hers, hovering just above them. “Flynn’s off limits.” Stiffening, she shook her head. “I set my own limits and at the moment I have none.” His lips pulled back from his teeth. “Yes you do, and he’s one of them.” Yanking her arm from his grasp, Stevie stalked away. Jack stood for a long minute, deciding if he should fuck the defiance out of her or walk away, and this time not look back. Watching her with Spoltori and listening in on their conversation set his nerves on end. He knew Stevie was a scrapper and could take care of herself, but Spoltori was pure evil, with no conscience, and would stop at nothing to protect himself. Jack could never live with himself if one hair on her head was damaged because of that sick puke. His watchful eyes continued to follow the sassy sway of her hips as she stalked off in those fuck-me pumps. His lips tightened. Jealousy cut deep. He’d never experienced the emotion before. He despised the way it weakened him. When he saw Flynn meet Stevie at the doorway to the ballroom, the emotion jabbed at him. When Flynn lowered his head to her, Jack’s temper flared. When Stevie put her hand on Flynn’s forearm and leaned into him, his temper snapped.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

R einserting his earpiece, Jack softly said, “Back the fuck off, Ryker.” He watched Flynn’s body stiffen, but he was a smart man and he wasn’t an interloper. Yet. Flynn stepped back and as he did, Stevie shot Jack a look that would have sliced most men in half. Then she flipped him the bird and stalked off. Swiping his hand across his face, Jack shook his head. The woman had a bigger set than he did! That was saying a hell of a lot. Going after her, he stopped when Flynn blocked the doorway. If it had been anyone else he would have shoved him aside, but it was Flynn. Not only a fellow agent but a friend. “What was that all about?” his buddy asked. “Hell if I know.” “She get to you?” “She got to me seven years ago.” “Ah, the proverbial one that got away. Well, take it from me, pal, as a trained observer, I’d say she has it just as bad for you. Find a way to make it work, but keep it out of this case or you’ll end up like Meyers when he was caught with that uniform he was working with in San Francisco last month.” The powers that be gave Special Agent Thad Meyers a choice after he was caught with his

hand in a very cute San Francisco police officer’s cookie jar: Resign or end it and pack your bags for some fun in the hospitable sands of the Middle East. He chose relocation. “I’m distracted, but not that distracted.” Liar. He was beyond distracted. “I don’t know how you can’t be, Thorn. I’d jump ship just for a sip of that long drink of water.” Jack’s lips tightened. “She’s off limits.” Flynn cocked a brow. “What does she have to say about that?” Jack’s head jerked back and he speared Flynn with a glare. “Do you really want to go there?” Keeping it cool, Flynn shook his head. “No, I just asked you a question.” “She thinks she has no limits.” Flynn burst out laughing and slapped Jack on the back. “You have my sympathy, man.” He opened the door and said, “Let’s brief the team, then get the hell out of here. All this money is making me rethink my chosen profession.” Thirty minutes later they broke up and Jack found himself without a ride back to his car. Pulling out his cell, he texted Stevie. I’m stranded Call a cab No $ Liar C’mon I’m out running You shouldn’t run and text it’s dangerous Stop telling me what to do You shouldn’t be running so late at night See previous text How long will you be? I just started, at least an hour. Seriously, call a cab Thanks for nothing That’s what you get for butting into my business You’re my business

Not Flynn isn’t your business He is if I want him to be You don’t want him to be How will I know until I try him? What you’re trying is my patience Yeah? And what are you going to do about it? Take you over my knee and warm up that sweet little behind of yours That almost sounds good It’s better than good and u know it Yes, Jack, you cornered my lust market for the last 7 years, but it’s time for me to move on and explore the world I’m your world You’re arrogant No, I’m just right Good night, Jack Sweet dreams, Stevie

Jack shook his head, deciding not to push her, and called a cab. Stevie shook her head, slid her cell into her sports bra, and continued her run down the winding foothill road that led from her house to town. The night had become warmer, the air heavier and unusually humid. She enjoyed the seclusion of her house high on the hill, and she liked the challenge of the winding road that led to it. Running kept her in better shape than a week in the gym. Like she had done hundreds of times before, she ran the three miles downhill in twenty minutes, barely breaking a sweat. But what began as a measured jog to clear her head turned into an internal Jack bash. A mad emotional dash to drive space between her and her demons. They were clearly labeled and clearly out to get her. Her libido didn’t give a rat’s ass what her brain wanted. Her heart didn’t either. Hell, the only part of her that wanted to resist Jack was her brain, and even that gelatinous organ found ways to justify giving in to his sexual persuasion.

And damn it she had! Until she got the Jack effect settled in her heart, she would go on having difficulty focusing on her case. She had an in with Spoltori now and she didn’t want her Jack issues to cloud her judgment. There was no room for error where Spoltori was concerned. He was deadly. She needed to be fully focused. So she focused on the one thing that was impeding her. Jack. Jack who didn’t care what she wanted. She’d been very clear about backing off. Leaving her the hell alone. Did he respect her boundaries? No. He just showed up at her house and forced himself on her. Then stayed for dinner despite her insistence that he leave. Her pace picked up as she headed back up the hill. No one ever considered what she wanted. Her fate had been etched into the Cavanaugh commandments the moment her father’s sperm impregnated her mother’s egg. She’d never been asked what she wanted. By anyone. Ever. Jack never cared what she wanted so long as it was what he wanted. To fuck. That’s all it was to him. Hot tears stung her eyes. Angrily she swiped them away. She hadn’t wanted to accept his reason for not calling her or his apology, but she had. Because she knew it was sincere. She didn’t want him to be sincere! She didn’t want him to be jealous and possessive as he had been tonight. She didn’t know what to do with that Jack. It was easier not to believe him when he said he’d try not to break her heart again. It was easier not to allow him to charm his way back into her bed or her heart. It was the path of least resistance, because surrendering would get her hurt. Badly. She couldn’t handle a second time. But what if it works this time? After a half hour of running full-out, she wanted to scream her frustration. The devil was inside her and she couldn’t outrun herself. Realizing she had run miles from her normal route into a narrow canyon road, she slowed in the darkness of the starless, humid night. Bent over, inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, she blamed the stitch in her side on Jack. It was so easy. He was, after all, the source of all of her heartache. He was deserving of her anger, too. She couldn’t let it all go, even with his apology, even accepting it. Just a text. One lousy text while he was waiting for his luggage! How difficult would that

have been? She perched on the edge of the guardrail on the shoulder of the road to more fully catch her breath. Damn Jack; he’d thrown her off course in so many ways. “Argh!” She threw her hands up into the air and stood. She was no closer to sorting out her Jack dilemma than she had been when she tied her laces and took her first step down the hill. She stood still for a moment as she tried to center herself. The crickets chirped happily in the darkness as a rare breeze rustled through the poppies that were in full bloom along the roadside. Her muscles screamed and she dreaded the jog back home. She should have hit the treadmill. As she turned back toward her house, the fine hair on the back of her neck rose. Sliding the cell phone from her bra, she frowned. No service. She wasn’t packing; she never did when she ran. Still feeling vulnerable regarding the Jack effect, Stevie tried to shrug it off. As she started to jog, she exhaled and picked up her pace, accepting what she’d been fighting: She was still in love with him, and until she knew without a doubt that there was no future for them as a couple, she couldn’t force him away. She wouldn’t just take pieces of him as they satisfied her whims, either. It was all or nothing for her, but she couldn’t say the same for Jack. At least not now. She smiled slyly. That wasn’t to say she couldn’t give him the green light to fall in love with her. But she would be strategic this time, not look at him like a love-starved kitten. Because she knew that if Jackson Thornton was capable of settling down, she was the girl to settle him. Not collar and leash him; that he would never settle for, and she didn’t want a trained dog, she wanted a man, a partner, an equal. Someone who cared about what she wanted. Someone she trusted. Smiling, she whooped and punched the air. “Watch out, Jack Thornton, you have no idea what’s about to blindside you.” Rejuvenated, she picked up her pace as she headed down the long, sweeping road. She could just hear the low rumbling sound of a car engine, somewhere behind her. Stevie moved faster, wondering who was up here this time of night. For the second time since her run began, the hair spiked on the back of her neck. The rumbling grew louder. Shooting a glance over her shoulder, she squinted when the funneled

tip of light speared the dark night as a vehicle crested the hill.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Q uickly Stevie sprinted across the road to the outside shoulder, going against the flow of traffic. Unless the driver was blind, she was in no danger of being hit. She continued her measured stride. It instantly registered that the car had adjusted to her jog pace. She glanced over her shoulder again and caught her breath. The car had not only slowed to her pace, but had moved to her side of the road. High beams flashed, spotlighting her. There was nowhere to go, unless she wanted to go over the guardrail and into the steep ravine below. The driver made the choice for her. The car’s engine revved, the tires squealed, and a ton of metal hurled down the incline straight for her. Stevie jumped over the guardrail and prayed the tumbleweed on the other side was not so dry it couldn’t hold the pull of her weight. The vehicle scraped against the guardrail, igniting a spray of orange sparks. Hanging on for her life, Stevie didn’t dare move for fear of pulling the bush she clung to from its roots. After several tenuous moments, when it held, she dug the toes of her shoes into the rocky ledge and slowly hoisted herself up to get a look at the vehicle. Despite the lack of lighting, she could tell from her vantage point that the low slung black truck was intentionally blacked out.

No lights, no tags, and dark privacy window tint. When the driver door opened, she quickly lowered herself back down and pressed her body as tightly as possible against the dirt and rock hillside. With each breath the prickles of the scrub brush dug into her chest and torso. Her bare knees scraped against the dry dirt and embedded rock. The edges of a briar bush rasped against the inside of her arms and legs. Long interminable minutes drew out as the car sat idling feet from where she hung. The driver had not exited, but neither had he closed the door. Sweat rolled down her forehead, stinging her eyes. If he got out and looked over the guardrail, he’d see her hanging there, and with a single kick, could send her tumbling down the hillside. Unarmed, she wasn’t about to climb up the ravine and take on the driver. Her safety was paramount so she stayed put. She was pissed. For the first time in a long time she felt helpless and she despised the feeling. The truck door quietly closed as if not to alert anyone of the action. And then slowly, the vehicle rumbled away. Even after she could no longer hear it, she waited, expecting it to return. Instead, the heavy silence of the night wrapped around her, reassuring her she was alone. When the crickets began to infuse the night again with their song, as if their chorus were a signal that the coast was clear, she dug her running shoes into the loose dirt and in a steady, measured pull, hoisted herself up to the edge of the shoulder. She sat up with her back against the guardrail and drew a long, cleansing breath. Son of a bitch. Dusting herself off, she climbed over the guardrail, wincing as the air met her raw knees and elbows. She needed to get home and clean them up. Peering down the long dark bend of the road she held her breath. Empty. Still vigilant, she began her ascent, moving steadily until she was under the familiar lights of the road leading to her place. She knew she wouldn’t have a cell signal until she was almost home. As she rounded the corner that would eventually turn into her cul-de-sac, the unmistakable sound of that engine rumbled close behind her. Every hair on her body spiked. Thankful for the cover of a large cypress, she jumped

behind it. Her house was one hundred yards down the street. She glanced at her cell and was elated for a signal. Quickly she texted Jack. Where are you? Your driveway.

The engine slowed to prowl mode. Peeking around the cypress, Stevie watched the lowslung, blacked-out pickup move slowly down the street. She had no doubt the driver was looking for someone. Was that someone her? I’m being followed by a black truck with blacked-out windows and no lights that tried running me off the road. He just stopped twenty feet from me. Get in your car and come down to the cross street. I’m on my way. Don’t move.

She didn’t. She dialed 911. As it rang, Stevie squinted in the darkness trying to make out the driver, but the windows were too dark. There was no front license plate. Was it Spoltori? Had he suspected she wasn’t who she said she was and followed her? Or had he somehow learned who she was and found her address? How could he when her addy was classified info? That the black pickup was not what Spoltori drove made little difference to her. He was no idiot; he could have easily borrowed or stolen the vehicle. The truck’s engine came to life as the driver realized he was getting company. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” “This is Detective Cavanaugh, Oakland PD; I need units at the bottom of March Ranch Road and Main ASAP. Be on the lookout for a blacked-out, slammed black pickup truck, no plates. The driver just committed a felony assault deadly weapon and is possibly a homicide suspect.” Jack sped past her. “There’s also a white Taurus, federal plates, in pursuit; give him his space.” “Ten-four, Detective.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

S tevie turned on the scanner app on her phone, dialing in to Pleasanton PD’s main channel, and listened to the pursuit end almost as soon as it began. Hawaii Five-0 rang on her cell phone. It was Jack. “What happened?” she asked, praying they had the bad guy. “Are you all right?” he demanded furiously. “I’ll live. Did you get the driver?” There was a pause before Jack said, “Bastard bailed right before he hit Main St. I had to check on the driver of the car he collided with. But whoever it was, he was limping after he rolled off the asphalt and took off. I’m not ruling out Spoltori.” “You didn’t have backup? How can it be Spoltori if we have eyes on him?” “Cavalry arrived just after the crash, they’re in pursuit.” “What about Spoltori?” She demanded. “Lost him after he took off from the country club.” Jack sounded disgusted. Stevie shivered. “How the hell did that happen?” “He outmaneuvered his tail.” “It was him,” she whispered. “I know it and he knows where I live.” “I have eyes on his place in Oakland and his office. Eventually he has to go home, and if

he’s banged up, it’ll give us enough for a warrant.” “I think we have enough now.” “It’ll be a hard sell.” “If we can’t sell it to a judge, we need to sell it to a grand jury and get the warrant.” “One step at a time, sweetheart.” “Don’t call me that.” She wasn’t ready for pet names. Even if she warmed like the sun each time he said it. “We’ve got eyes on Mrs. Welsh.” “What does her husband have to say about that?” “Not a damn thing. We’re in contact with the locals, they know to stand back.” “Did Pleasanton call in the land sharks?” “They’re on their way in. CHP is canvasing along with County and Pleasanton.” “I’m coming down.” “Stay put, I’m on my way.” “There you go again, bossing me around, Jack.” As she carefully walked back to her house, the adrenaline had begun to wear off and her legs and arms hurt like hell. By the time she walked through her front door, her limbs had stiffened. As she was pulling on a pair of sweats, Jack strode into her bedroom. “What are you doing?” She gave him a duh look. “Getting dressed, what does it look like?” He crossed the room in three strides, picked her up, and gently set her on the edge of the bed. Pulling down the sweats, he made an angry sound. “What the hell were you thinking, running at midnight? Why didn’t you call me or at least nine-one-one after he ran you off the road?” “I tried, no signal.” Gently Jack touched her left knee. Hissing in a breath, Stevie stiffened. “Hurts.” “Jesus, Stevie, you’re cut the hell up.” Gently he probed her arms. “You need to see a doctor.” Vehemently she shook her head and instantly regretted it; her neck had tightened up as

her left temple began a dull deep throb. “A few bumps and bruises, nothing a little Tylenol and a shot of Patrón won’t fix.” She pushed against his hard chest. “Now, let me get dressed, I want to go downtown and help with the canvassing.” Jack shook his head. “Come home with me.” She wasn’t sure what she was more shocked by, him wanting her to go home with him or him asking, not dictating. Regardless, it wasn’t happening. “There is no reason for me to go home with you, Jack.” “You’re not staying here alone, not with the driver—who is quite possibly a serial killer— running around in the neighborhood.” “I’m a trained professional, with several firearms within reach, not to mention, I can kick most men’s asses.” “Fine,” Jack exasperated. “I’ll spend the night.” “Oh no, you won’t!” she said panicked. She wanted him, yes, she did, but it was too much too soon. She’d just accepted the fact that she was going to let him back into her life. But it had to be on her terms and in her time. “Get over it. I will and you can’t change my mind.” He stalked off to the bathroom and turned the bathtub faucet on. “Get in here,” he called. Stevie stood and winced. It took her a minute to get to the bathroom. Hands on her hips, she glared at Jack. “Stop telling me what to do!” “Stop being stubborn, woman. Now strip and get in this tub.” “I’m not stripping in front of you.” He sat back on the edge of the large claw foot tub. It was what sold her on the house. Well, that and the spacious country kitchen, lagoon black-bottom pool out back, and the secluded two acres that came with the house. His eyes danced with laughter. “I don’t see what’s so funny, Jack. I could have been killed tonight, and you’re sitting there laughing about it.” He stood, shaking his head. Reaching out, he traced his finger along her collarbone. “I find nothing amusing about almost losing you tonight, Stevie.” He slipped a strong arm around her waist and carefully pulled her to him. He lowered his nose to her head and inhaled her sweaty scent. “I just find it kind of funny that after that workout in your gym earlier tonight, you suddenly find your modesty.”

Resisting the urge to stiffen in his arms because it would hurt and because it felt really nice to be where she was, she said, “If I strip in front of you, next thing you’re going to want is to scrub my back.” “Mmm, what’s so wrong with that?” “It’s intimate. I don’t want to be intimate with you right now.” He slipped his other arm around her, resting his big hand at the top swell of her ass. She really liked the way he just—claimed her. “You’re a liar.” “It is intimate!” “I’m not questioning that, I’m calling you out on you wanting to be intimate with me.” “I don’t. I don’t want you to think you can call the shots, Jack.” She pushed out of his embrace, wishing she hadn’t. He put his hands up. “Okay, then tell me, Stevie—what can I do to make you more comfortable right now?” She blinked. “What?” “I didn’t stutter. What do you want me to do for you right now to make you more comfortable?” “I—” How silly was it that she could think of a million things, but didn’t have the guts to ask him for any of them. “Just let me take a bath, and bring me my scanner from my office. Please.” He opened his mouth to argue, but turned on his heels like a good soldier and left her to her privacy. A few minutes later when he reentered the bathroom, she was up to her chin in bubbles and Epsom salt. He set a bottle of cold water on the little table next to the tub, her scanner, which he had tuned in to the main P town channel, and the bottle of chilled Patrón from her freezer. He had been paying attention. “What’s the private channel?” “Four.” He turned it to four and immediately picked up the chatter regarding their bailed driver. No luck so far, though it sounded like the dogs had picked up a scent that was backtracking up the hill. Toward her. Jack scowled, but didn’t say a word. Instead he handed her two pills and the bottle of water. “I found those next to the Tylenol, I suggest you take them. From the

looks of your injuries, you’re going to need them.” “These will kick my ass.” They were prescription pain pills she had taken when she had her wisdom teeth pulled six months ago. “Something needs to. Now take them.” She popped the pills in her mouth and took a swig of the water. She only did as she was told because she was going to do it anyway. She pointed to the tequila. “One shot.” He uncorked the bottle, picked it up, and as he raised it to his lips, he said, “Uh-uh.” And took a swig. She splashed him with bubbles, then leaned back into the silky warm water and closed her eyes. A low moan of pleasure slipped past her lips. It felt really good on her tired muscles. “Tell me what happened,” Jack demanded. He was such a party pooper. She opened one eye. “Please.” She told him, and as her story came to the part where the truck ran her off the road and over the guardrail, he growled. “Jesus Christ, you could have been critically injured out there or worse, Stevie. You can’t just go running at midnight and not tell anyone your route.” Stiffening, she set her jaw. “First of all, I run five times a week, usually at night, sometimes late depending on when I get home. Secondly, there is no one for me to call.” His green eyes sparked fire. “Now there’s me.” She swallowed, but nodded. She was too tired to argue. It was one a.m. and she had to be up in five hours. Stevie reached up and pulled at the thick band around her ponytail, wincing as her abused muscles protested. “Here,” Jack said roughly, “let me do it.” Carefully he pulled the band down her thick hair, careful not to catch any hair in it. When it was off, he gently dug his fingers into her scalp and massaged the tightness there. She closed her eyes and let him. Moaning softly, because it felt good as hell, Stevie began to relax. That she was a dirty, sweaty mess, naked, and up to her neck in bubbles being massaged by a hunky fed felt as natural as waking up each morning. When she looked up at Jack, she held her breath. The hard lines of his face had softened. His eyes had darkened. She shivered, not wanting to read

too much into the look. Closing her eyes again, she exhaled, then asked, “What time is our flight out tomorrow?” “Midnight, we’re taking the red-eye.” “Please tell me it’s a direct flight.” “I’m not sure, but it most likely is.” “Yay,” she softly cheered. There was that.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T wenty minutes later, Jack stood staring down at Stevie’s softly snoring body. She’d fallen asleep. Did the woman have a death wish? He sighed and sat down on the edge of the tub. He couldn’t help it when his fingers traced the swell of her cheek. Her soft breath caressed his skin. Her cheeks were rosy and her skin creamy smooth. She looked so fragile, like a little girl with no one to protect her. His heart ached a little. He wanted to be the one she turned to when she was afraid. He cracked a smile. Not that much scared her. Except him. He wanted her trust. To never let her down. One would be hard-earned and the other a lesson in humility. Because he was a selfish man who had never been willing to make the concessions necessary to sustain a relationship that involved the heart. Until now. The realization stunned him. And yet, it settled him. “I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart,” he softly said, brushing her damp hair from her face. “I was a coward, because I knew if I stayed, I’d be the one who got hurt.” Her eyelashes fluttered and her big blue eyes peered innocently up at him. The haze of fatigue burdened them. “I forgive you, Jack.” Then they closed. Jack stood dragging his fingers through his hair, feeling like a colossal heel. She forgave him? He could never have forgiven her had the tables been turned. What did that say about

his character or lack thereof? The sudden urge to bolt grabbed hold of him. He didn’t do relationships. He’d never been with the same woman for more than a month, and that was mostly sex. If he needed arm candy he never had to go farther than his cell phone for a number and a willing partner for the evening. He looked back at Stevie. She deserved a guy who could give her her heart’s desire. He wanted to be that man, but knew he’d fuck it up. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her again. Or was he taking the cowardly way out again? Stevie was different. She had been from the first day he set eyes on her at the academy. When it came to her, he experienced feelings he had never experienced with another woman. Jealousy when his partner and friend, a man he trusted, flirted with her. The way his gut knotted when Spoltori put his hands on her. The terror he experienced when he realized how close she had come to dying tonight. Swiping his hand across his chin, he knew that as much as she fought it, she wanted more from him, too. She trusted him. After all, he’d been the one she called first, not 911. Sighing, he grabbed a big fluffy towel from the linen closet that smelled coconutty like her, sat down on the edge of the tub, spread the towel across his lap, and gently slid one arm beneath her knees and the other around her shoulders. “Leave me alone,” she mumbled, though she didn’t fight him off. “Shhh,” he said, then carefully brought her onto his lap and patted her dry. He smiled as he touched the towel to her. This was a first. No angry spewing to leave her alone. Just contented sighs as she snuggled up to him. He liked it. Like a little kitten all hissed out, she was now ready for cuddling. His smile faded. The protective surge in him was overpowering. He stood, holding her tightly, and strode to her bed, where he gently laid her down. For a long time he stared at her. She was beautiful. Long, toned limbs, flat belly, and full breasts. His groin stirred. Not for fucking, but for making love. Shaking his head, Jack covered her and stepped away. He didn’t know the first thing about making love to a woman, but he knew that if she gave him the chance, it would come naturally with Stevie. He wanted that, more than he had wanted anything else in his life. He was so fucked.

She was running for her life, the black truck so close she could feel the heat of the engine on her back. The canyon road was steep, with sheer cliffs on either side. No guardrails, no shoulder, just straight drops to the rocky canyon below. Her only recourse was to run forward. For her life. The engine roared. She looked over her shoulder and screamed. “Stevie!” Jack’s worried voice called close by. Wildly, she reached out and somehow managed to grab him. The contact jerked her out of her sleep. She blinked, her eyes open but unseeing in the darkness. But she could smell him. Feel him in so many more ways than physically. “Jack,” she sobbed, clutching his arms, holding on to him as if he were her only lifeline. “It was him.” “It was just a dream, baby, I swear, just a dream.” “The Edge. He—He was wearing a leather hood—blood on his hands—after me. Almost got me.” She shivered hard, trying to focus. Jack’s strong scent soothed her as he rocked her, stroking her hair. “It was just a dream. You’re safe.” Her heart beat chaotically against her chest and she could barely breathe. This feeling of fear, of being afraid and vulnerable was as foreign to her as speaking Chinese. But it was Jack, and he made her feel safe. Grasping him, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “Don’t go,” she begged, her voice small like a child’s. “I’m not going anywhere.” His arms tightened around her. Readjusting, she pressed her cheek to his chest and felt the strong, vibrant beat of his heart. Closing her eyes, Stevie let her walls down a little more and allowed herself to be comforted by him. Just this once. Just for a minute. “Not allowed to be afraid,” she mumbled. “Big girls don’t cry.” As she said the last words, she felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes. She never cried. Not even at her father’s funeral. Not even when Jack had disappeared from her bed and her life. “Big girls are allowed to be afraid, Stevie. They should cry.” He nudged her chin up and swept his lips across hers. “My arms are always open for you.” Emotion tightened in her chest like a fist. Her body shuddered as she tried to hold it in. “Let it go, sweetheart. Just let all the shit go.”

“I can’t. Show no weakness—” she rasped, fighting the deluge beating her down for release. “Dump it, sweetheart. Kick it to the curb and walk away from it,” he softly urged against her ear. In a mad, drug-induced purge, she let it go. All the soul-wrenching pain she’d been pushing down rushed up. For all those times as a little girl she was alone and afraid and needed someone to tell her she would be all right, she cried. For all those times she was terrified to fail, to disappoint her father, her teachers, or her coaches, she cried. For all those times she needed her father and mother to be normal, loving, accepting parents, she cried. For all those times she was ostracized by her peers because she was the sheriff’s daughter, she cried. She cried for the person she had never been allowed to be. She cried the hardest over the remembered pain when the only man she’d ever loved walked out of her life. And most of all, she cried, terrified that she would fall short in his eyes, and he would do it again. That man, whom she still loved, held her securely in his arms, rocking her gently, stroking her hair, soothing her with words as she fell apart in his arms. “Jack,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you to stay. I tried, I tried so hard to be perfect.” He kissed her. “You were perfect for me. It was me, I was the coward.” “Daddy told me I had to be strong, that no man would want a weak woman. He was right. You didn’t want me because I’m weak.” Jack’s body tensed as he pushed her from his embrace just enough to stare into her eyes. “You’re the strongest woman I know.” His lips brushed her cheek, kissing away the tears. “But being strong isn’t about holding it in forever, Stevie; it’s about getting through until you can be vulnerable with someone you trust.” He kissed her nose. He kissed her lips. “It’s about letting in someone who cares about you.” His words stirred her deeply. His lips trailed down her neck to the bend in her shoulder. “Strength lies here.” He pressed his hand between her breasts. “In the heart, not in brawn.” Her heart thudded against his palm. She was naked, and her body was waking up even if her brain was still foggy. Closing her eyes, she bit her bottom lip as a sharp wave of desire swept through her. Jack’s hand pressed more firmly against her skin, his fingertips brushing her hardening nipple.

“Jack,” she breathed. As she said his name, heat rushed to her womb. “Don’t leave me again.” Had she not been drugged she wouldn’t have said it, but she was and…She meant it. Desperately. Warm lips pressed to the pulse beat of her neck as his hand slid across her breast. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Moaning, she shivered hot with desire. She wanted him, desperately, but was afraid he would reject her. Swallowing her fear, she quietly said, “Jack?” “Mmm?” His hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, his fingertips trailing either side of her neck before his fingers dug deeply into her damp hair. “Make love to me,” she said it so softly, the words barely held sound. If he didn’t respond she could tell herself he didn’t hear her. If he said yes… He groaned as his lips trailed from her neck to her jaw, to her parted lips, and in a wild, wet plunder he ravished her mouth. Pulling him against her, Stevie arched into him, wanting every inch of him imprinted on her naked body. When he broke their kiss and took her face between his hands, and pressed his forehead to hers, she knew she was about to be shot down. Shame washed through her. She stiffened and immediately went on the defensive. “Take your hands off me.” “Sweetheart—” Turning away she pushed against his chest but he didn’t budge. “I get it, Jack.” “No, you don’t, you don’t get it at all.” He pushed her back into the mattress. She yelped in pain, her bruised body still tender despite the numbing narcotics. He grabbed her right hand and pushed it down to his hips and his straining erection. He groaned when she touched him. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?” “No,” she rasped. “I want you so damn bad, my entire body aches. The old Jack might have taken advantage of the fact that you’re on drugs and therefore vulnerable, but the new Jack won’t.” “I want the old Jack.” “Damn it, Stevie, no, you don’t.” Opening her hand she rubbed the heel of her palm along his long thickness. “Yes, I do.”

“I don’t have a condom,” he said lamely. “You don’t need one unless you have something catchy. I’m on the pill for my screwy periods.” He pressed his throbbing cock into her eager hand. “I’m clean as a whistle.” “There’s been no one but you, Jack.” She bowed into him, enticing him with a perky nipple. He made a noise as if he was in pain, but male satisfaction burned bright in his eyes. “Stevie, I’m sorry I hurt you that bad.” “No, you’re not. I can see it in your eyes, Jack. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not sorry. Not anymore. I want you, Jack. No strings, just you, right here, right now.” He lowered his lips to her nipple and took a taste. Oh, God that felt good. His hand slid down her belly to her sultry mound. “You have the sweetest, tightest pussy, Stevie. I want in it so bad.” He slid a finger along her dewy seam, and the building tension inside her almost snapped. He pressed his cheek to her breast and shook his head. “But I can’t. You’ll hate me in the morning.” “I’ve hated you for seven years, what’s another seven?” Sliding her hand beneath his sweats, she grasped his hard, hot shaft. He moaned loudly, making a feeble attempt to pull away. “Damn it, stop.” The power of their attraction pushed aside her fear of being rejected. She wanted Jack and he wanted her, too. Just like he did with her, she had the power to break his self-control. “You’re going to have to try a little harder than that if you want me to stop.” With her free hand Stevie dug her fingers into his thick hair and pulled him away from her breast to face her. Power surged through her when their eyes met. His were deep jade, and full of desire. His impressive cock throbbed forcefully in her hand. She smiled slyly. “You have as much willpower as I do.” She cupped his tight scrotum. He groaned, jutting against her hand. “If you’re so worried about me hating you, you can knock yourself out in the morning trying to make me unhate you.” “Stevie…” “Oh, Jack, you know you want this.” “You have no idea.” She pushed him back into the sheets and slid across his chest, pushing his sweats down to his knees. His erection sprang free. “And this time, Jack?” She smiled and stroked him. “I’m

getting on top.” Taking each of his hands into each of hers, she entwined her fingers in his and raised them above his head. Her aching breasts trailed along his hard pectorals, provoking low moans of pleasure from them both. Then with a slow languid slide, she glided down his taut belly and reverently, sheathed herself on his straining erection. Their eyes widened, their breaths held until she fully sat him. “Dear, God,” she breathed. “That is the most amazing feeling in the world.” She kissed him softly and said, “Thank you.” Jack squeezed her fingers. She welcomed the pain of his excitement. Jack raised his chin, his eyes blazing, and thrust high into her. “You’re killing me, sweetheart, killing me.” She caught his thrust, her liquid muscles fisting him, drawing him deeper. There was nothing more sublime than the thick hard feel of Jack Thornton inside her. “At least,” she gasped, “you’ll die with a smile on your face.” When he made the move to bring his hands down, she fought back. “Don’t move, Jack.” She pushed his hands back into to the pillows. “This is for me.” His dark eyes narrowed, but his cock flexed deep inside of her. “Next time,” he said roughly, “I won’t be so easy.” Laughing softly, she said, “I hope not.” Only then, when she had his full compliance, unhurriedly, did she begin the intimate dance that connected them at the most primal level. He didn’t rush her, he didn’t push; he let her set the pace, never taking his eyes off hers. She’d released his hands and sat upright on him, her hands reaching back to his thighs, digging her nails into him. He hissed, his hips jerking hard, but he kept his arms over his head, his white knuckled hands grasping the black iron slat of her headboard. Her eyelids dropped low over her eyes as she bowed, slowly grinding against his cock and pelvis. Hovering just on the edge of her orgasm, Stevie bit her bottom lip as her vaginal muscles grasped him. “Jack,” she breathed. “That feels so good. I don’t want you to stop.” “Let me touch you,” he rasped. “No, I want—” She cried out when he thrust high into her. “Yes, that—I want that.”

He thrust high into her again, and again. When he pushed her over the edge, she screamed his name and unraveled around him. Her body shook and jerked as she ground her pubis against the thick root of his cock, drawing out her orgasm in long glorious waves of rapture. Just as she began to come down, he reached up and grabbed her. Pulling her against his chest, he rolled over with her and sank deeply into her. Digging his fingers deep into her hair, he said hoarsely, “You make me lose all control.” Then he withdrew and thrust so deeply she screamed. His hips tensed before he rammed again. “Christ,” he swore, pistoning into her, then coming in a mad, wild rush. The last thing Stevie thought before she fell asleep with Jack still inside of her was how much she would enjoy waking up next to him in the morning. Stevie woke to the soft chatter of the resident sparrows and the delicious dream she’d had of her and Jack. Slowly she opened her swollen eyes and blinked. They hurt, like she’d been crying. She never cried. In her dream though, she had… Languorously, her gaze swept her room. The last thing she remembered was her bath. Heat rose in her cheeks as her hand slid down her naked body to her thighs and felt the stickiness there. She stiffened and every muscle in her body screamed in protest. A dull throb hammered at her temples. Holy hell, it wasn’t a dream; she had broken down like a schoolgirl and had proceeded to practically demand sex from Jack! Her eyes widened when they landed on him sprawled out on her dad’s recliner. Embarrassment swept through her. She’d been so needy. So weak. How had she allowed that to happen? With dizzying clarity, the night came flooding back. Jack coming to her house and—their workout. Warmth flushed low in her belly. That had been amazing. Pizza, the fundraiser, and her attack. She scowled. Spoltori. Her bath. Squeezing her eyes shut, she remembered her nightmare and Jack being there. Her eyes and chest ached from her tears. She had been a blabbering emotional mess. Those damn pills! Her misery lessened when she remembered how patient and comforting Jack had been with her. A side of him she hadn’t known existed. A side she liked. It was good, she told herself, that she could break down like that and not scare him away. Closing her eyes, she shook her head, uncomfortable with this new development. She didn’t know how to deal with this type of exposure. Act like it never happened? See how Jack

would be this morning? Maybe he was going to be just as weird about it as she was. One could hope. She should have insisted on the Tylenol. Sitting up, she groaned in pain, instantly regretting the action. “Stevie?” Jack sprang up from his reclined position, looking wildly around the room before his eyes settled on her. He raked his fingers through his hair when he realized she was unharmed. “Jesus, I thought you were—never mind.” He stood, stretching that long predatory body of his. He was wearing sweats and a white muscle tee. His muscles beneath that hot skull tattoo bunched and unbunched in fluid ease. Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest. Even sleepy he was the hottest man on the planet. He sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached out to touch her, but pulled back. Her heart cracked. That simple action said he regretted what happened. Otherwise he would have stayed in bed with her and not just have pulled away from her. What did he think of her now? She swallowed hard. No strings, right? “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Sore.” Then she scowled. “Why are you here? What time is it? Do we know where Spoltori is?” Jack shook his head and this time he didn’t fight his need to touch her. He brushed back the hair from her face. His warm gaze held hers looking for a cue from her about what happened. She refused to give him one. She’d had a vulnerable moment. It shouldn’t have happened. She’d make sure it didn’t happen again. “I’m here to make sure you’re okay, it’s eight fifteen, and Spoltori is still at large.” Her scowl deepened. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to spend the night.” “After what happened to you last night, Spoltori being unaccounted for, and your refusal to come home with me, you didn’t leave me much choice.” “I can take care of myself.” “Hey, Thorn?” a familiar voice called from the hallway. “Is that Flynn?” Stevie asked, shocked. What the hell? “Yeah?” Jack called back. “The guys want to head back soon, but there are two uniforms on their way in.” “Thanks, man.” Flynn popped his head into the room. Stevie gasped, pulling the sheet high over her

nakedness. The special agent’s dark eyes danced mischievously. “Coffee’s fresh, oh, and Doc’s here.” He ducked back out, his laughter trailing behind him. “What’s that about? Who’s Doc?” She asked, looking pointedly at Jack. Had Flynn heard her moaning—no, screaming—with pleasure last night? Mortified, she wanted to fade into the wall. She didn’t know how to address the elephant in the room. Not that Jack seemed concerned; he acted like nothing had happened. Maybe she would, too. “With the driver on the loose and the high likelihood of it being Spoltori, a suspected serial killer, so close to you, we thought it would be prudent to have a few eyes and ears outside.” Stevie’s jaw dropped. “You mean you wasted valuable man-hours watching my house instead of them being on the street where they could actually do something worthwhile?” Jack scowled. “No one was pulled from duty, Stevie. They volunteered.” Warmth infiltrated her chest. “What did you threaten them with if they didn’t?” He looked insulted, then surprised. “Not a damn thing. They offered.” Stevie swallowed and admitted, “No one has ever done anything like that for me before.” Jack stood and held out his hand. “That’s because you’re too busy being a badass to let them.” She slipped her hand into his. The contact was electric, the shock of it catching them both off guard. Jack’s green eyes blazed, but he didn’t say a word; instead, he wound her in the sheet. Probably for the best. If it dropped, she’d be in trouble. Again. This time she wouldn’t be able to blame it on the drugs. “Put some clothes on, Doc’s going to check you out.” “Doc?” “Dr. Katrina Winslow.” “One of your exes?” “Does every woman in my life automatically get the ex-label?” “No, just the gorgeous, sexy ones.” Jack threw his back and laughed. “You might be on to something, Detective, considering you’re gorgeous and sexy.” She scowled. “Yeah, except my label reads: Future Ex.” Jack kissed her nose. “Don’t sell yourself so short, hot stuff.” Fighting a smile, she pushed him away and said, “I don’t need an exam, I’m fine.”

“I know you’re fine,” he grinned raising his brows, “but I need to know you’re not hurt beyond some bumps and bruises.” “Fine,” she exasperated, “let me throw on a tee shirt and sweats.” Five minutes later a gorgeous, sexy woman entered her bedroom after knocking softly and getting permission to enter. Immediately Stevie geared up her defenses. Absolutely one of Jack’s exes. Doc smiled warmly and if Stevie didn’t hate her so much she might like her, because her smile was warm and friendly, not a single shred of bitch attached to it. Doc was Stevie’s height, with thick copper-colored hair, and big blue eyes. She was dressed casually in sweet strappy wedges, designer jeans that accentuated her svelte curvy body, and a deep blue lace tank top that made her big cat-shaped eyes look like burning sapphires. She walked with the sexy confidence of woman well loved. Yeah, Stevie hated everything about her. “I’m Katrina West, Detective, a friend of Jack’s. I hope you don’t mind that I’m here. He was rather persuasive. I could never deny Jack anything.” Stevie had no doubt. Besides, Jack hadn’t denied that the sexy doctor was an ex. Yeah, he’d managed to slide right around that one. “I’m sure you haven’t.” Stevie said, scowling. The motion made her head throb the more. Doc set her little black bag down on the nightstand and, with her hands on her hips; she smiled so broadly that Stevie was blinded by the brilliance of it. She hated her even more now. “I’m not the enemy, Detective Cavanaugh,” Doc said, amusement lacing her words. Stevie didn’t see anything so funny about Jack calling an ex to check out his current fling. “I haven’t slept with Jack. I have no intention or desire to sleep with him.” She winked. “Not that he isn’t a fine specimen of a man, but I have my own hot cop that keeps me plenty busy.” The tension that had been generating at warp speed halted, and after Stevie gave a long exhale, it began to recede. If truth be told she felt a little sheepish. It wasn’t like her to jump to conclusions, but it seemed when it came to Jack she wasn’t her normal logical self. Doc opened her bag and pulled out a stethoscope. “Please sit down, and let me take a listen.” Stevie moved from where she was standing by the chair to the edge of the bed and let Doc

take a listen. “Deep breaths, please.” Stevie obliged. When the good doctor was done, she hung the stethoscope around her neck. “Contrary to popular belief, you do have a heart, and it’s working just fine.” “Hrrmph, so Jack told you about us?” “A little.” Oddly, Jack discussing their relationship with the good doc didn’t bother her. Dr. Winslow had that inviting warm aura about her that was hard to resist. Besides, if he did talk about her, it meant she was on his mind and that was a good thing. Doc took out the ear and nose spotlight thing and checked her ears, nose, and throat. “Ears, nose, and throat look good.” Then she touched Stevie’s temples eliciting a small moan. “That hurts?” “It’s tender and I have a migraine at the moment.” “Did you hit your head when you were run off the road?” “I don’t remember. I may have.” She looked at Stevie’s eyes with a light. “Hmm, you’re a little dilated. What medication have you taken?” “Two hydrocodones at about one this morning. I wanted Tylenol, but Special Agent Neanderthal insisted on the narcotics.” Doc’s lips twisted in a smile. “Yes, Neanderthal seems to be a prerequisite with them.” “Them?” There were more? “Jack, my husband Simon, Flynn, and the others.” “How did you meet Jack?” “He was part of a sting operation my husband was heading up. I was the bait, and Jack made sure I didn’t get hurt. It was very exciting and romantic, but nothing I’d like to experience again.” She looked at Stevie and smiled that gentle smile. “My hat is off to you, Detective. I could never do what you do.” Stevie was warming up to this chick. “I could never be a doctor. How long have you been one?” “I spent most of my career in a research lab, but since I met Simon and went through some

ugliness with my former employer, I decided it was time to get back into the clinical side of medicine. So, in that respect, just a few months.” “Kind of like riding a bike?” “Sort of.” When she had completed her exam, Doc said, “You have a mild concussion, Detective. I suggest you take it easy for a few days. Take Tylenol for the pain, but if your migraine gets worse, you call me or get to an ER. Sometimes bumps can produce blood clots and they can be deadly.” “Don’t tell, Jack, he’ll go all caveman on me again. I don’t have time for that.” “I’m sure he suspects—” “Just don’t give him any more ammo, okay? Besides, there is that doctor-patient confidentiality thing.” “Detective—” “Please, call me Stevie, and I promise to take the Tylenol as ordered.” “And—” “I promise to call you if my headache doesn’t go away or gets worse.” Doc snapped her black bag shut. “I’m going to take you at your word, Stevie. This is nothing to trifle with. Listen to your body.” “Yes, Doc.” “Call me Katrina.” “Will do, Katrina. Now let me get ready for work, I have a lot to do today.” Katrina shook her head and saw herself out of the room. Less than a half hour later, Stevie strode out to the main area of the house. Deep male voices emanated from the kitchen, punctuated by Katrina’s distinctly feminine tone. As Stevie entered the kitchen she stopped in her tracks. Whoa. When did Santa stop by? Three of the hottest men in law enforcement sat at her breakfast bar, their testosterone levels so high she could smell it. The newcomer, a tall, dark, and very handsome man, stood up from the bar stool he had been sitting on, his bright green eyes smiling. He gave Jack and Flynn a serious run for their money in the hot cop department. Stevie caught Katrina’s beaming smile.

“You must be Simon?” Stevie said, approaching him with her hand extended. “The one and only,” Simon said taking her hand in his much bigger, much warmer one. Wow. Where did they grow these guys? “Thank God for that,” Katrina said, smiling. “Detective Cavanaugh I presume?” Simon said. His teeth were straight and sparkled in the morning sunlight. Why didn’t they have guys like Simon and Flynn at her PD? Stevie smiled, releasing his hand. “The one and only.” “Double thanks for that,” Jack said. He looked at Stevie. “I’m going to take a quick shower, give me twenty, and we’ll get going.” And he headed for the bathroom. Stevie took her prescribed Tylenol, poured herself a cup of coffee, and directed her next question at Flynn. “So what did Jack bribe you all with to act as lookouts on your own time?” He grinned over his coffee cup. “Not a damn thing.” She turned to face Simon. “How long have you been here?” He glanced as his watch. “About six hours.” Stevie gasped and looked at Katrina. “You, too?” “I arrived just before I saw you. I came as soon as I could after my shift at the clinic ended.” Stevie swallowed. “But you don’t even know me.” Simon smiled and shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. “Jack and I go way back,” Simon said. “I love him like a brother.” He inclined his head toward Flynn. “Same for that guy. You’ll see for yourself once you get to know us, we’re each other’s eternal backup.” He pulled his wife into his tight embrace. “And mess with our women?” He kissed her on the top of the head. “Ask Jack what happened to the last guy who touched her.” There was no denying Simon’s strong sense of possession for his wife. As caveman as it looked and sounded, Stevie liked it. She liked it when Jack took control. Liked it when he beat his chest in front of other males. Liked it when he forced her to submit. But she had also liked it last night when he submitted to her. He’d been gentle, and reassuring. “I will,” she said hoarsely, looking away, but catching Flynn’s glittering eyes and half smile. Her nipples tightened. Not for Flynn specifically, but for the power of these men in general and their no-limit mentality when it came to having each other’s backs.

“Don’t let Simon scare you, Stevie,” Katrina said. “He barks a lot.” Simon growled, pulled her back against his chest, and lowered his lips to her ear. “You know I don’t bark, Cinderella, I just bite.” Warm shivers ran along Stevie’s spine. When Katrina looked up at her husband with adoration and desire in her blue eyes, Stevie’s heart pitter-pattered. She wanted that. To be cherished like that by a man. To look at him with so much love, he could barely stand it. She wanted that with Jack. Had last night been the beginning? “Get a room,” Flynn groaned, rolling his eyes. “No girl for you, Flynn?” Stevie asked. The handsome special agent shook his head. “Haven’t found one willing to put up with me yet.” “That’s a load of BS,” Katrina said. “They line up to put up with you; you’re just too picky and commitment-phobic to give any of them a chance.” Flynn shot Simon a harsh look. “Wow, man, who’da thunk you’d break man code?” “He didn’t break anything, Flynn,” Katrina interjected, having her man’s back. “I’ve seen you in action plenty of times and known you long enough to see how you are with the most gorgeous, intelligent women in northern California. You sample them, then put them back in the candy box half eaten.” They all laughed at Katrina’s analogy. “Picking on Ryker again?” Jack said as he strode into the kitchen. Stevie’s heart and libido did a little giddyup. He was showered, shaved, and looking ridiculously handsome in a black tailored suit, crisp white shirt, and jade-colored silk tie that was a dead match for the color of his eyes. His hot gaze caught and held hers. As if there was no one else in the room, they stared at each other. “Later, you two,” Simon said, dragging his wife behind him as she said her good-byes. Flynn, shaking his head, said, “See you back at HQ,” and followed Simon and Katrina out of the house. They were alone, and a feeling of wanting to be possessed grabbed hold of Stevie. How had that happened? She was not all soft and kittenish like Katrina was with Simon. She was Detective Steven Cavanaugh the third who would one day be Oakland’s Chief of Police. She

was hard. Demanding. Fearless. Yet with Jack, she was none of those things. “What’s going through that mind of yours, Stevie?” Jack asked huskily as he approached her. She could tell him the truth, but Stevie wasn’t ready for the truth. “I was wondering how you can afford designer suits on a fed’s salary?” Looking for something to occupy her hands and an excuse to not make eye contact, she rinsed their coffee cups and dumped them into the dishwasher. Jack grinned and tapped his temple. “I am not just a pretty face, Detective; I also have a brain, one that has a knack for the stock market.” “Really?” “Really. I have a few income properties to show for it, too.” “You’re a regular mogul.” “You have no idea. How about you? This house and that ride of yours aren’t indicative of a detective’s pay grade.” She shrugged and reached for her purse on the counter. “I make decent money, and like you, I’ve made a few sound investments.” She grabbed her purse and opened it. “Dad left me a hefty chunk of money. I used it to buy this place.” As Stevie dug through her purse for the evidence bag with Spoltori’s card in it, she scowled. It was gone. “On its way to Quantico.” She shoved the purse aside. “That wasn’t your call to make, Jack.” “We can turn it around faster than you can.” “I would have put a rush on it.” “My rush is faster than your rush.” Feeling stripped of power; she stood with her hands on her hips. Jack exhaled and leaned against the edge of the counter. “Look, you were exhausted; I didn’t want to wake you and ask your permission to do what you would have done if our positions were reversed.” “That was my evidence.” “It isn’t yours or mine, it belongs to the case. Stevie, you need to be a team player here. I’m not the enemy. The FBI isn’t the enemy. I’m here to assist. When it comes to certain evidence

we can process it quicker. Let me do what I do best and I’ll let you do what you do best.” “I feel like the case isn’t mine anymore.” She practically pouted. Not that she knew how. Pouting was for girlie girls. Like the lovely Katrina. “Of course it is. We wouldn’t have half the information we have if you hadn’t been the one to dig it up. But there’s more to be done.” He leaned forward. Lowering his voice, he said, “Don’t make this about what’s going on between us personally.” Raising her eyes to his, she stiffened. “There is nothing going on between us personally, so you can toss that notion out the window.” As if she believed her own words. He’d hit the nail on the head. She had no control when it came to her chemical reaction to him, but she was damned if she was going to give up control of her case, too. “Deny it all you want, Detective, but you want me so bad it hurts to think about not having me.” Stevie’s jaw dropped. “You’re conceited!” He shook his head and acted as if he were going to lean in and kiss her. Ignoring her brain’s shrill warning not to, she found herself meeting his lean halfway. He smiled as his eyes dropped to her parted lips. “I’m just calling them like I see them, Stevie.” He moved back, leaving her hanging on the edge of the counter. Embarrassed heat stung her cheeks. “I hate you, Jack Thornton.” He grinned, grabbed his car keys off the counter, and started for the front door. Over his shoulder he said, “I’m driving.” Snatching up her bag, she muttered, “Of course you are.” And followed him out the door. Ready to hit the streets, they took off for Spoltori’s offices in downtown Oakland. First on their agenda was Jack taking a crack at Spoltori’s assistant, Joan Schillner, Spoltori’s alibi for each night of each murder. Oliveras had come away with exactly nothing except her statement that Mario was with her on those nights at the office. Stevie didn’t buy it for a second. “I know you can charm a snake out of its skin, Jack,” Stevie said, “But I’ll bet you whatever you want that Spoltori threatened her and out of fear for her life she’s not going to recant her statement.” “You may be right. But I dug a little last night. She’s a single mom of a seven-year-old

daughter. Deadbeat ex who hasn’t paid child support in years.” “I could have told you that.” “Could you have told me she shipped the daughter off to her mother’s in Maine two months ago?” Chills shivered along Stevie’s arms. “He threatened her daughter.” Then she asked, “How do you know that?” “I ran her background, found out her mom lives in Bangor. An agent confirmed this morning that the little girl, Jenny, is enrolled in an elementary school there as of seven weeks ago.” “What a piece of shit Spoltori is.” As they rolled past the Webster Street address, Stevie said, “Lights are out, looks like they’re closed.” Jack pulled in against the curb. “Sit tight.” Putting the car into park, he hopped out and strode up to the door. When he tugged on it, it remained closed. Stevie scowled. She watched him take out his shield and tap it against the glass. The door opened from the inside, then shut behind him. It wasn’t five minutes later that Jack was getting back into the car. “That was quick.” “She’s scared.” “What did she say?” “Not a damn thing. Told me to either leave or arrest her. I told her I could protect her and her daughter. She wasn’t buying it.” “Did you ask where her boss was?” “Said he’s traveling and unless I had a warrant, I could kiss accessing that information good-bye.” “Let’s bring her in for questioning.” “For what crime?” “Accessory, impeding a homicide investigation.” “I gave her my card and told her she had twenty-four hours to call me or I’d be back with an arrest warrant for her.” “You can’t get a warrant.”

“She doesn’t know that.” “She won’t call.” “I think she will.” “I’ll bet you a Val’s burger.” He grinned and extended his hand. “That’s a bet I’ll be happy to make.” They shook on it, and Jack pulled out onto the street. “I want a face-to-face with Mrs. Welsh,” Stevie said. “I don’t know what her game is but she’s doing the mayor and a serial killing BDSM Master, and that’s one interview I want the front row for.” Jack handed her his cell and said, “Scroll down to the text with Flynn, there are the senator’s home and cell numbers, as well as his wife’s cell.” Stevie was about to tell Jack to stop telling her what to do when he said, “Please.” Shaking her head, she took his phone and said, “I’d rather not give her time to think about what she’s going to say.” “Agreed. Her Piedmont address is in the text.” Stevie scrolled down his extensive text list, seeing a few female names along the way. “Who’s Shauna?” Before he could answer, she tapped the MMS icon and the picture of a very naked woman, lying on a bed touching herself, popped up. Stevie blinked, not sure she was actually seeing what she was seeing but there was no doubt about it. Shauna was naked, wet, and, judging by her little text — So hungry for you, Jacky-Jack, I can’t stop touching myself —wanting some Jack action stat.

White-hot fury erupted when she saw that the date of the picture was last night, or more accurately, three thirty this morning. Mingled with the fury was shame. While she was throwing herself at Jack, his paramours were doing the same thing. She was such a fool to even entertain the idea that Jack Thornton could manage a relationship. When she turned scathing eyes on him he looked pissed. He had a lot of nerve to be angry at her. “I hate you,” she breathed. Without saying a word he pulled over, threw the car into park, then turned to face her. “She’s a woman I dated a few times a few months ago.”

“That’s Jack talk for a woman I fucked a few times a few months ago.” “Are you going to hold my past against me?” She looked at the text again and the time. “Um, hello, three thirty this morning is current in my book.” “I can’t help what women text me.” “Oh really? How about trying, ‘Don’t text me, Shauna!’” He extended his hand and she slapped the phone into it as hard as she could. “Look,” he said, holding the screen up, “I didn’t respond.” He pulled up another text from another woman, this one of monstrous breasts. “I didn’t respond to this one either and this came in while you were getting dressed this morning.” “You know what, Jack? I have no say in who texts you, what they text you, or how you respond to them. But I have a say in how much I can take, and as ashamed as I am to admit it, I’m feeling jealous as hell right now, and I don’t like it.” She exhaled softly and looked straight at him. “I can’t do this. Work with you and—” She hesitated, then said, “And work on us.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked out the passenger window and forced herself not to cry like a little girl who just found out her kitten died. She wanted to do both, but her emotions were interfering with the case. Each time his cell chirped now, she’d wonder if it were some tramp sending him naked pictures attached to invitations. She heard him texting. After a few minutes he pulled back onto the road, and said, “Tell me right now that you don’t want me working this case with you and I’ll remove myself.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

J ack’s question hit like a gut punch. Had last night meant nothing to him? She swallowed hard. No strings, she had said. Had she subconsciously reneged on her own terms? She’d been a fool to think he wouldn’t take her at her word. How could she expect him to when obviously she didn’t, either? Last night she had convinced herself it wouldn’t matter in the morning. But it did. It mattered very much. He had been right about one thing—she hated him right now. Not for last night, that was all her. No, what she hated him for right now was that he was doing nothing to persuade her to un-hate him! And fool that she was, despite it all, the thought of never seeing him again was unbearable. Their personal issues aside, she didn’t even want to pretend she didn’t want to work with him. Jack was the best. A stellar investigator. She trusted his instincts, his knowledge, and his abilities. He was a true advocate for the victims and their families. Not to mention he had all that great extra Fed muscle behind him. No, Jack wasn’t the problem, she realized. It was her and her inability to separate her personal feelings for Jack from the case. She could hear her father now: “Only fools allow their emotions to interfere with their investigation.”

Then his ghost called her a fool. “No,” she said softly, staring at a bum as he picked through a trash can. “No, what?” Jack asked his voice deep, and very much under control. “No,” she said, turning to look him in the eye when she said it. “I don’t not want to work with you on this case.” “Is that a yes or a no?” “Yes, Jack! I want to work with you on this case. No, I don’t want you to remove yourself. Is that plain enough for you?” He grinned, his straight white teeth sparkling in the morning sunlight. “Yes.” He put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. Even though he was focused on the road ahead of him, the grin remained plastered across his face. “What?” she grumped. He glanced at her as he merged onto 13. “You can’t take it back.” “I can, if I want.” “No, you can’t, it’s an FBI rule.” “I’m not FBI.” “You should be, Stevie. You’d be a great asset.” She smiled at the compliment. Coming from Super Fed that meant a lot. “Thanks, but I don’t want to be an FBI agent.” “I forgot; you’re going straight to the top of the brass food chain.” She scowled. He caught it in his peripheral. “Why the scowl?” She shrugged. “No reason.” “I thought that was what you wanted?” “It’s a Cavanaugh condition. Sheriff or chief, nothing less at retirement.” Jack made a frustrated sound. “That’s bull. What do you want, Stevie?” She started, surprised by his question. No one had ever asked her that before. “What do you mean?” “I mean, what do you want to do? What did you dream of being as a kid?” She hadn’t been allowed to dream. “My life was destined to be what it was at conception.” “You didn’t answer my question.” She had to think about the answer. What she wanted had never been considered. Her

choices had been made for her, so she never thought of what-ifs. “I—I don’t know.” Jack turned off the highway into the Oakland hills. “If you couldn’t do police work what would you want to do?” “I enjoy my job.” “You’re being evasive.” “I don’t know what I’d do. I never gave it any thought.” “What happens if you don’t make chief?” “That’s not an option.” Jack snorted contemptuously. Not at her, she understood, but the situation. “Says who?” They pulled up to a large Tudor mansion, then rolled half a block past it. “Says me.” When Jack put the car into park, he looked at Stevie and said, “I’m only going to say this once to clear the air and stop that never-ending brain of yours from creating doubt about where I stand.” Looking out the window she asked, “Oh? What’s that?” “Look at me,” he softly said. She shook her head. He reached over and with his fingers under her chin he turned her to look at him. Lips parted, she caught her breath. The hypnotic intensity of his eyes and the heat his body emanated held her spellbound. He looked good enough to eat. Heat flushed low in her belly and began to spread south. His lips cracked into a wicked smile. He knew the effect he had on her. She couldn’t help a reciprocal smile. “I sure hope you don’t hate me,” he started, “because I can’t get the image of you coming all over me last night out of my head.” He lowered his eyes to her mouth and bit his bottom lip. “Jack,” she said nervously. “We can talk about that later.” She wanted to jump his bones right then and there, and his admission made her feel one hundred percent better than she had just a minute ago. “We’re going to do more than talk about it later.” He sat back into his seat, took the key out of the ignition, and exited the car. As she came around to meet him they walked down the sidewalk together.

“How do you want to play this?” he asked. “Good cop,” she said, pointing to him, then pointed at herself. “Bitch cop.” To say Regina Welsh was not happy to see Stevie was an understatement; that she was charmed to her panties by Special Agent Jack Thornton would not be an overstatement. The senator’s wife could barely keep her hands off him as she graciously welcomed him while devouring him with her eyes. Stevie rolled her eyes as she followed Jack and the salivating cougar down a vast hallway to a study where she pointed to a chair for Stevie, who purposefully took the opposite seat. Coiffed, regal, and ice-cold, the senator’s wife sat stiffly before them both and directing her question to Jack, asked, “What can I help you with, Special Agent Thornton?” “We’re investigating the Cain killings,” Stevie began. “We believe an acquaintance of yours, Mario Spoltori, may be involved. We also have reason to believe you may be the next target.” Mrs. Welsh threw her head back and laughed, the sound more like a high-pitched cackle. It grated on Stevie’s nerves. Pretentious people annoyed her more than most. “Oh, Detective, that’s priceless.” When she managed to settle down, she realized by Stevie and Jack’s silence they weren’t joking. Her face sobered. “You’re serious?” “Yes, ma’am,” Jack said. Then, in an earnest warm voice, he added, “We’re concerned for your safety.” She sat back in the chair. “What is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Spoltori?” Stevie asked. Mrs. Welsh shrugged. “I know that he’s Mayor Dyer’s money man.” “Do you have any interaction with him?” “No.” “Have you ever been to his residence?” “If I had no interaction with him, I think that would include not going to his apartment.” “So that’s a no?” “Yes, Detective, that is a no.” It didn’t go unnoticed by Stevie that she knew Spoltori lived in an apartment. She made an entry in her notepad, then asked point-blank, “What is the nature of your relationship with Mayor Dyer?” Mrs. Welsh squirmed in her chair. “My husband is a supporter.”

“Are you?” “Of course.” “Do you know the mayor outside of politics?” Mrs. Welsh pursed her lips, then absently waved her hand. “I met Donald a decade ago in Washington at a political function.” “Has Senator Welsh always been a supporter of the mayor’s?” Stevie watched the truth flicker across Mrs. Welsh’s features right before she lied. “Yes.” Stevie nodded. “That’s interesting, because I did a little research and your husband backed Clive Markham, the Independent that ran against Mayor Dyer, during the mayoral race three years ago.” Stevie leaned toward her. “What changed his mind?” Mrs. Welsh stiffened. “I did.” “How?” “I introduced them several months ago. John now realizes what a strong candidate Donald is for the party and is happy to throw his support his way.” “Did Mayor Dyer give you any incentive to sway your husband for that support?” “Do you mean a bribe?” she asked incredulous. Stevie nodded. “I guess you could call it that.” “Of course not!” “So, if Mayor Dyer had not been regularly servicing you, you still would have persuaded your husband to throw his support the mayor’s way?” “How dare you!” she seethed. Stevie sat back in her chair, crossed her right ankle over her left knee and looked at the woman. “Please, Mrs. Welsh, save the theatrics for your husband. I know about you and Mayor Dyer. I get it. You scratch his back, he scratches yours. But what I do need clarification on is your relationship with Mario Spoltori.” “I have no relationship with him.” “So, your visit to his apartment yesterday and what transpired during that visit—you would not classify that as any type of relationship?” Mrs. Welsh sat stone silent as Stevie watched the color trickle from her face. She pushed. “Did your husband sanction your visit to Mr. Spoltori’s Oakland apartment or your

rendezvous with Mayor Dyer last night?” Finally the cougar’s claws came out. “How dare you!?” She said again, then stood and pointed to the door. “This conversation is over. If you insist on speaking to me again it will be with my lawyer present. Leave my house.” Stevie nodded, snapped her pad shut and said, “I’ll go, but I’m giving you the courtesy of letting you know, my next stop is your husband’s office. I’m sure when I bring up your extracurricular activities, he’ll be happy to shed some light on them.” The senator’s wife looked to Jack for help. He moved his chair closer to her. “Mrs. Welsh, we need your help.” He reached out to her, taking her hand, and naturally she slid both into his big strong one and sat down. “Can you help me? Please.” She looked terrified. “I promise to protect you,” Jack softly said. “It—it isn’t that easy.” Jack moved closer. “Tell me what isn’t easy. Tell me why you’re afraid.” Mrs. Welsh speared Stevie with a glare. “I will when she leaves.” Jack squeezed her hand and said, “Unfortunately, she’s my partner and we’re required to work together.” And just like that, the ice walls surrounding the frigid queen bitch melted. “I met Mario via a chat room.” “What kind of chat room?” Jack asked. “An RP room for subs.” “RP?” Jack asked. “Role-playing,” Stevie said at the same time Mrs. Welsh said it. “I was curious. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I was having regular, private, instant message conversations with a Master who called himself The Edge. I was intrigued, but afraid that if word got out that Senator Welsh’s wife was a closet submissive, well... You get the picture.” “What happened?” “After he relentlessly wooed me?” Stevie snorted. Jack gave her a look that said; knock it off, but Mrs. Welsh proudly sat up

straight. “It’s true. He was bold and beautiful and he wanted me, not some young thing with fake body parts. I agreed to meet him. I waited at Scott’s at Jack London Square. While I was waiting, Mario came in. He bought me a drink, struck up a conversation, and kept me company as I waited for The Edge. I should have guessed who he was because he was dominant from the beginning, knowing exactly what I needed. He was persuasive, but I was reluctant. Then he slid a coin across the table to me. I had mailed it to The Edge the previous week. It was our signal. He revealed himself to me, said he had to be sure we both had something to lose before he told me who he was. And then we went back to his place. I had such high expectations. At first I was frustrated because he couldn’t—” “Get an erection?” Stevie offered. “Yes,” she wrinkled her nose. “Not until I called him names while he masturbated.” “What kind of names?” “Nasty names.” “Be specific,” Jack urged. “Dirty cunt. Nasty cunt. Evil bitch cunt.” Stevie shivered as she recalled the scene. It had disturbed her then, it disturbed her more now. “Did he say anything while he was masturbating and you were saying those things to him?” Stevie asked. “Not until he ejaculated. He said something, it wasn’t clear, he made a suffering sound. I didn’t give it any thought because many men make pained sounds when they come.” “The word or words he said, what did they sound like?” Jack urged. “I don’t really recall.” She shrugged. “Maybe mawmaw or something like that.” “Momma?” Stevie asked. “No, it wasn’t that. But I had the feeling it was someone’s name. It creeped me out.” “Did you stay after that?” Jack softly queried, letting her know by his tone that it was okay if she did. “Yes! That wasn’t what I went for. He promised me the world on my knees.” “Did he deliver?” Stevie asked. Color stained her cheeks. “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “In spades.” “Did he hurt you?” Jack asked, patting her hand.

“Yes,” she admitted, “but that was part of the play.” “Did you ever feel afraid?” “No...” Jack leaned in to her. “You can tell me.” Mrs. Welsh loudly exhaled. “He told me if he caught me with anyone else but him he’d make me pay in blood. I didn’t take him seriously because that was part of the play, him being a total Master. Masters don’t share unless they choose to share.” “Are you his slave then, Mrs. Welsh?” Stevie asked. “I let him believe that I would accept his collar if he chose to honor me with one.” “So you lied to him.” “I was afraid he wouldn’t want me again if I didn’t agree.” “Does Mr. Spoltori know about you and Mayor Dyer?” “Absolutely not. No one knows except the mayor and the people in this room.” Her eyes narrowed. “I expect it to stay that way.” Stevie took a card from her pocket and handed it to her along with a pen. “I’d like the name of the chat room you met The Edge in, I’d also like the e-mail address he used, and while I know this is highly personal, I’d like your permission to read the texts and e-mails between you and The Edge.” Mrs. Welsh shook her head. “No.” “I can always get a warrant,” Stevie threatened. “Knock yourself out, Detective,” she said her superiority flaring. “I’ve told you too much already.” “You do understand we believe you may be his next victim?” “He has no reason to kill me.” Stupid woman. Stevie looked to Jack for some help. “Mrs. Welsh.” Jack’s voice was so deep and comforting, Stevie found herself leaning toward him along with Mrs. Welsh. “His triggers are beyond us at the moment. I want to protect you. But to do that I need to get into Mr. Spoltori’s head. If you allow us to read the texts and e-mails it will help tremendously.” “I—can’t.” Since the Jack attack failed, Stevie jumped back into bitch cop mode. “Fine, then give us

the chat room and e-mail addresses.” Mrs. Welsh hastily wrote down the information and handed the card back to Stevie, who gave her a fresh one. “Stay away from Mr. Spoltori. If he calls or shows up, call me immediately. He’s extremely dangerous.” Jack handed her his card as well. “My cell number is on the back. Call me if you have any questions or need assistance.” Once they were on their way back to the PD, Stevie said, “I don’t get it. How could a woman with her social standing, married to a man who might one day run for president, jeopardize all of that for sex?” “You heard her, ‘he was bold and beautiful and he wanted me.’ She’s a lonely political wife. From what I gather, her relationship with the senator is purely superficial. She’s old east coast money. He’s new west coast money. She gives him a sophisticated gloss, at the same time opening doors for him he could never get an invite to. He gets her family name to the top of the political food chain. I’m sure if we dug a little, we’d find a mistress or two locked away.” “A high society bored housewife?” “Exactly.” They drove in silence for a few minutes, each processing the interview. “We know the Cain killer is a misogynist,” Stevie mused out loud. “Spoltori’s insistence that Mrs. Welsh use such derogatory terms with regards to female genitalia suggests that he also has misogynistic tendencies. It confirms my suspicions about why he couldn’t get an erection for her, but he could when she spewed hateful words regarding women.” “I’m no expert, but it seems to me this type of behavior stems from some sort of early childhood trauma.” “Which goes straight back to his cousin, Jessica, and her death. Maybe she sexually abused him and when he’d finally had enough, he lashed out and killed her.” “I’m thinking the same thing.” Jack’s cell phone chirped that he had a text. Handing her his cell, he asked, “Would you see who that’s from, please?” Probably one of his paramours. She scowled, taking the phone, not wanting more proof of Jack’s spicy past. “It’s from Flynn, no sign of Spoltori or the driver of the truck. They’re

widening the perimeter.” “I’m convinced Spoltori was the driver,” Jack said. “He’s gone underground for now. I want you to pack a week’s worth of clothing and come to my place until he surfaces. When he does, I’m going to arrest him.” He was so bossy! “Are you asking me or telling me, Jack?” He glanced over at her. “I’m telling you.” And some things about Jack would never change.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Y ou think we’ll have enough to charge him when he surfaces?” Stevie asked. “Assault deadly weapon is a start.” “Probable cause?” “The driver fit Spoltori’s height and weight perimeters and was limping pretty badly when he bailed. He won’t be able to hide it when he surfaces. And he will surface. He has to.” He reached over and grabbed Stevie’s hand, squeezing it. “We’ll get the arrest warrant for assault deadly weapon and we’ll get a search warrant to tap his home, office, and cell phone, as well as retrieving all his phone records.” Stevie smiled, enjoying the feel of his big hand on hers. “Might as well shoot for his computers, too.” “Absolutely. We have the best cyber lab in the world just across the bay. When they get hold of Spoltori’s stuff they’ll have a field day with it.” “Do you think we have enough PC for all of that?” “I do.” The confident tone of his voice gave her hope that they would finally get what they needed to arrest Spoltori for the three murders before he killed again. “We have ten days until the next full moon.” She pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket and said, “I programmed Spoltori’s cell number into my phone, let’s see if I can get a

cell tower hit for the records.” Then she dialed him. It went straight to voice mail. “You’ve reached Mario, please leave a message and I’ll return your call within twenty-four hours.” “Hi, Mario, it’s Stephanie, we met last night at the mayor’s fundraiser. I called my girl at Nici’s and she said she has my Valentino suit at her LA store and that if you want it, she can ship it. It’s a size seven, same as I was wearing, it’s pricey, twenty-five hundred, but she said she won’t charge you for shipping. Call or text me at this number if you’re still interested in the suit, and still call or text me if you’re not.” Stevie hit End and looked over at Jack’s tight face. “It gave me the creeps, too, Jack, but if he calls from his cell we can get a ping off the tower nearest him.” “I want your solemn promise you will not agree to meet with him alone.” “Why not? With you and the team as backup—” “It’s too risky.” Being bossy was one thing; telling her she was incapable of doing her job was a whole other issue. One she would not stand for. “You don’t think I can handle myself?” “I think you can handle yourself just fine. Better than fine, but he’s a serial killer with an agenda. That gives him an ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck, Geronimo’ mentality.” Stevie shivered. “I thought the same thing last night.” “Listen to your gut, Stevie. It never lies.” “You sound like my father.” “He was a smart man.” Yes, he was. Also a hard, unyielding man. “I heard of his passing. I’m sorry.” Stevie swallowed hard. It had taken years to get used the fact that her father was gone. He had always been there, never wavering in his role. Not only did he inspire her with his indomitable spirit, he was the only person who understood her drive and need for control. They were mirror images in that regard, but Stevie realized that if she ever had a child, she would never dictate what their future would be. That was theirs to carve out. “Thank you.” “How’s your mom?”

“She’s great, never better,” Stevie said trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Dad’s death opened her gilded cage door. She flew off three months after he died. She checks in periodically.” “You weren’t kidding when you said you had no one to call.” She shrugged it off, she’d learned to long ago. “I’ve always been self-sufficient. It doesn’t bother me. It is what it is.” Jack nodded and pulled off a side street, slowed the car to a stop, and turned to her. Sliding his fingers into her hair, he pulled her across the console. His actions caught her completely off guard, but she didn’t resist. His lips hovered above hers. “The only way you’re going to get rid of me is to shoot me.” Then he kissed her. Cupping her hands behind his head, she smiled against his lips. “Then I guess you had better behave.” His fingers dug into her scalp as his lips forced hers further open. The blend of his spicy cologne, his natural clean body scent, and his body heat stirred into a heady cocktail. His simple possession of her at every turn turned her on, on so many levels, when it shouldn’t have. She was a contemporary woman, not a cavewoman. But she loved how he took control, and it thrilled her beyond her wildest imagination. “I’m going to do bad things to you tonight, Detective Cavanaugh,” he breathed. “Very bad things.” Warm wet anticipation dampened her panties. She wanted that. “I can’t wait,” she said breathlessly. He pulled away from her, holding her face between his big hands. Fire sparked in his eyes. “Be patient with me, sweetheart. I’ve never gone down this road before.” Sliding her hands over his, she pressed him tighter to her. “Neither have I.” Twenty minutes later they strode into the Oakland PD detectives’ squad room. Save for Donna and two other suits, the room was quiet. Captain Russo nodded as they passed his office, heading to the room dedicated to the Cain killer case. Stevie opened the door to the small room and asked Jack, “How do you want to divide this up?” “I’ll start on the warrant while you update the case files,” Jack said, sitting down at one of the three laptops. As he waited for it to boot up, he continued, “By the time these are written

it might be late. Would you find out who the on-call judge is?” Stevie nodded, picked up the phone, and dialed Donna’s extension. “This is Donna.” “It’s Cavanaugh; I need the name of today’s judge on call.” “Just a minute.” Thirty seconds later, Donna said, “Judge Rincon, but beginning at midnight tonight, it’s Judge Halpert.” “Thanks, Donna.” Stevie hung up. “Judge Rincon until midnight. He’s tough. Then Judge Halpern at midnight. She and my dad went to law school together.” “Does that give us a better shot?” Jack asked. “Yes, but only if we have solid PC, which I think we do.” “That means we put off our trip a day.” “I know, but don’t you think getting our hands on Spoltori’s devices and phone records will give us what we need to nail him sooner than what we can dig up back east?” “I agree one hundred percent. Here and now is what is most relevant to the case.” “Whatever you think is best, Jack,” Stevie said, and as the last word left her mouth she laughed. Jack looked up from the keyboard and smiled. “Who’da thunk?” As he said the words, his cell phone chirped that he had a text. He tapped the screen and as he read the text, he grinned. Stevie stiffened. Probably a nice titty shot from one of his exes. It took everything she had not to ask who it was when he set his cell down on the desk without responding to it or offering her an explanation. Seething, she booted up the laptop in front of her and kept an eye on Jack’s cell phone. When it chirped again ten minutes later, she kept her head down and focused on entering the new case data. Jack tapped the screen again, and from her angle she could see it was a picture. This time he scowled, texted something, and tapped the screen closed. Stevie kept her head down, dying to know if it was a woman sexting him. Several moments later, she realized Jack was staring at her. Lifting her head from the keyboard, she said, “What?”

The edge of his handsome lips twitched. “The first text was from Simon razzing me, the second was a picture from a woman who I just blocked.” Stevie smiled inside. Outside she shrugged. “I’m not your keeper, Jack. That’s your business.” Brows drawn tight, he leaned toward her. “Make it your business, because if I catch some asshole texting you crotch shots, I’m going to make that my business.” Despite his chest-beating, Stevie laughed. Call her a women’s lib sellout, but she loved caveman Jack. “Okay, Jack, not that you have to worry about random guys texting me penis shots.” “Don’t even say it,” he grumbled, turning back to his screen. Giggling like a schoolgirl, Stevie shook her head and got back to work.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

F ive tedious hours later, Stevie and Jack had the warrant affidavit written. Exhaling, Stevie sat back in her chair and rubbed her tired eyes. Her head throbbed, not, she told herself from the bump on the temple, but from the relentless screen time. She’d never liked writing warrants and this one was the mother of all warrants. They’d sat side by side, thigh to thigh, compiling their probable cause case and crosschecking their facts. They were requesting permission to tap all of Spoltori’s phone lines at his apartment and place of work, to get copies of the records for those phones, and to seize and search all of Spoltori’s electronic devices in both his residence and his place of work. They wanted access to his financials, including any and all credit or debit cards in his name or cards he had usage rights to. They also requested a wholesale search of his Oakland apartment, his car, and his place of business. And last but not least, they gave a summary of what they intended to find in each and every device, record, and location. It was a sweeping all-inclusive warrant. They’d done a damn good job. “What do you think our chances are?” she asked, looking up at Jack. Despite her fatigue, desire for him flashed deep within her. It was a given that his physical attributes could melt an iceberg, but what had her engines revving at the moment was his steel trap brain. He was not only brilliant, but his instinct was spot on. He was a shrewd strategist who looked ahead

three plays while executing the play at hand. Jack stretched, extending his long legs. As his arm came down along the back of her chair, he said, “I like our chances for fifty percent of what we asked for.” “Let’s hope we get his electronic devices.” Squeezing her shoulder, he looked over at her with tired eyes. “You look beat, Thorn.” He flashed her a wicked grin and tugged her ponytail. “I’m not that tired.” Yanking her hair from his hand, hiding a smile, she swatted at him and stood. “I’m hungry.” Taking his time, Jack stood as he rubbed his chest. “Me, too.” Hands on hips, she winced as her sore muscles protested the action. Between her bumps and bruises from last night and the hours crouched over the keyboard she was an achy mess. “For food,” she said. The man had a one-track mind. His brows rose. “Me, too,” he said, not convincing her. “What did you think I meant?” “Never mind. Let’s just get something before we pass out.” Jack looked at his watch and said, “It’s almost five. Since we can’t deliver this until midnight, let’s go back to your place so you can pack a bag, then we’ll stop at Val’s on our way back to my place.” “I don’t recall agreeing to stay at your place, Jack.” “I don’t recall asking.” Grrr. “You can’t boss me around like I’m a kid.” He grinned and flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. “Trust me; kid is the last thing I think of when I look at you.” Just as Stevie was about to tell him to stop with the innuendo, Jack’s cell phone rang. “Thornton,” he answered, the deep vibration of his voice shimmering through her. His head snapped back and he nodded as his eyes caught hers. “Yes, Miss Schillner, I’m so glad you called.” Stevie heard her talking, but couldn’t quite make out her words. “Absolutely,” Jack said. “Your mother and daughter will be taken into protective custody immediately, and I give you my word I will do the same for you.” More from the other end.

“Of course I can meet you. Where? Time?” He grabbed a piece of paper and jotted down a Fremont address and 9:30. “I’d rather speak to you sooner than later, I’m free now.” He scowled. “Okay, nine thirty it is. See you then. And thank you.” Jack tapped the End icon and smiled a shit-eating grin at Stevie. “Looks like you’re buying at Val’s.” “What did she say?” “She said she wanted to talk to me about her boss, but only if I guaranteed protection for her and her family, which I did. She sounded scared. I hope she doesn’t change her mind between now and then.” “Or hope Spoltori doesn’t get to her. Why couldn’t she meet you sooner?” “She said she had things to do before we met, but didn’t go into detail. Most likely packing and tying up loose ends.” Stevie shook her head. “I don’t like it. Too much time between now and then for shit to happen.” “We’ll get there early and wait for her.” Stevie plugged the addy into her cell phone and said, “It’s a day care center.” She scowled. “It will be closed at nine thirty. Can you call back and confirm the address?” “It came up ‘private caller,’ and that is the address she gave me.” “Just seems strange to me.” Jack grabbed his suit jacket and slid it on, then handed Stevie her bag. Not overly concerned, he said, “A little. I’ll give Fremont a heads-up and ask for a drive-by.” As they walked to the car, Jack contacted the agent who would coordinate with the Bangor authorities and the FBI field office there to take the mom and daughter into protective custody. “Where will you take Ms. Schillner?” “The city. We have staff there who will get her to a safe house until Spoltori is in custody.” Val’s was forty minutes away in clear traffic; it would be twice that in rush hour. As they headed south on 880, Jack flipped the toggle on the dashboard, and moving to the diamond lane shoulder, he code three’d them all of the way to Val’s. “Mayo is pure fat and cholesterol. It’ll kill you,” Jack said, shaking his head. He was much more health conscious, adding only ketchup and mustard to his burger. Stevie nodded and muttered, “Mmm, hmmm,” just as she bit into the sloppiest burger he’d

ever seen. Fascinated that one person could pollute her body so thoroughly with something as simple as a hamburger, Jack watched as globs of mayo mingled with mustard, ketchup, and pickles oozed from a rare piece of meat barely held together by a bun. “Bess burger eber,” she said, chewing a mouthful and making small satisfied sounds. When the tip of her pink tongue slid along her bottom lip, then slowly licked the corner of her mouth, Jack squirmed in his seat. But he couldn’t help smiling as he enjoyed watching her orgasmic indulgence of the 20 percent fatty beef. He groaned when she dunked a steak fry into a glob of mayo. “You’re going to die a terrible death, Detective.” Stevie swallowed and took a long sip of her double chocolate fudge milkshake. Jack shook his head, wondering where she was putting it all. “Ahhh, yeah, but what a way to go.” She pushed her basket of fries across the table to him, nodding at them. “Go ahead, Jack, take a walk on the wild side.” One turned into two and before he knew it, Stevie ordered a basket of beer-battered onion rings and ranch dressing. She would be the death of him. One way or another. When the onion rings and dressing arrived, she dinged one into the dressing and held it out to him. “Now if you really want to live—or die in your case—take a bite of this.” He did. It was good. Her blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She reached over and pressed the palm of her hand to his chest. “Heart still beating?” She held the half-eaten ring in her other hand in front of him. Jack slid his hand up her arm and circled her wrist and fingers, noticing how soft her skin was and how slender her wrist was. His fingers almost double-lapped her wrist. His thumb gently rubbed the scratch there. “Yeah, my heart’s still beating.” Then he brought her hand to his lips and bit down on the onion ring, catching her fingertips in his lips. She hissed in a breath that went straight to his groin. Her hand trembled. As he slowly chewed with her fingertips pressed to his lips, he smiled, never taking his eyes off her. After he swallowed, savoring the salty taste and the smooth warmth of her skin, he licked each of her fingers like they were his own. Slipping his tongue in the curve between her index

and middle finger, he slowly flicked the sensitive skin there. “I want more.” He watched the emotions flicker across her face. Desire, fear, frustration, then back to desire. She tried to pull away from his grasp, but he tightened his fingers around hers. “I’m going to start by slathering that dressing all over your body and licking it off until you’re writhing and begging me to lick something else.” “Jack,” she whispered, looking around. “Just you and me back here, sweetheart.” They were in the far booth at the end of the counter and for the dinner hour, the place was unusually quiet. “You’re not going to slather me with anything,” she rasped. Not taking his eyes from hers, he smiled and dipped another ring in the dressing. Taking a bite he chewed it slowly, savoring the badness of it. Just like the onion ring, Stevie could be detrimental to his health. But like a junk food junkie, the addiction to the badness overrode all rational thinking. He wanted her as badly as she wanted that juicy death burger. “Come home with me.” Her eyes widened then narrowed. “You’re asking me now?” “Yes,” he said roughly. “Oh really?” Stevie dunked a ring and held it out for him. Just as he was about to bite down on it, she snatched it away. She laughed at him and popped it into her mouth. “Don’t think I’m a sure bet, Thorn.” She took a swig of her milkshake and leaned back, away from him. “Because I’m not.” While he understood her hesitation, he would not be denied. He slid around the booth so that they were thigh to thigh. He picked up another ring and dipped it into the dressing. Tracing it against her lips, he said, “I bet I can make you come right here with your clothes on.” He watched in fascination as the pulse in her jugular leapt at his words. Her blue eyes darkened to a stormy gray. His cock thickened at the sight of her getting turned on just from his words. “You’re intrigued. I can see it in your eyes.” Nostrils flaring, she shook her head. “Don’t, Jack.” Jack’s instinct where she was concerned was never wrong. He knew when her “no” was a hard limit “no” and when…it wasn’t. And right now, it wasn’t. “I see the want in your eyes, baby.” He brushed a long dark strand of hair from her face.

“You want it bad, don’t you?” Her only response was a long swallow. His fingertips trailed along the curve of her cheekbone, his thumb caressing her skin. “You have the softest skin I’ve ever touched.” His hand trailed down to the smooth line of her jaw, then across her parted lips. “Beautiful.” Down her jugular to her shoulder. When he slid his hand along the swell of her breast and pressed it to her heart, he smiled when her breasts quivered. “I feel it in your heartbeat, Stevie. It’s beating like a kettle drum on parade day.” He leaned in and inhaled the scent of her hair. “Do you remember the excitement you felt when you opened your door the night you graduated, to find me standing there, no uniform to separate us?” She swallowed hard and nodded. “I tried to stay away,” he said huskily. “I did, the last three weeks of academy. But your lure was too strong to resist. I had to see you.” “I wanted to hunt you down and shoot you for staying away,” she whispered. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hold out, to keep from touching you, Stevie. I had to wait until after graduation. And then I was so nervous, so afraid you’d already left or that if you were still there you’d tell me to take a hike.” He traced his lips along her ear. “But you were there…waiting for me. Weren’t you?” “Yes,” she squeaked. “Mmm, yes you were. I saw it in your eyes, just like they are now, so dark they’re almost gray.” He pressed his hand more firmly against her heart. “Your heart beat just as crazily then as it’s beating now.” He brushed his middle finger across a tight nipple. “Yes, just like that night, your nipples are so tight, so hungry for my mouth.” She squirmed in her seat. The small whimpering sound that escaped her full lips went straight to his dick. “I couldn’t undress you fast enough. I needed inside you like a crack addict needs its next fix.” He inhaled her coconutty scent. “You were wearing shorts; I ripped them off and the panties beneath them.” He chuckled, pressing his lips to her ear. “Do you remember how we didn’t make it to the bed that first time?” He nibbled her ear and felt waves of pleasure rush through her. He was as hard as the tabletop. “You were so hot and so wet for me. I pushed you up against the wall, you wrapped those long legs of yours around my waist and my God, Stevie, it was like going home.” He closed his eyes as he remembered the sublimity of

entering her for the first time. There had been nothing like it. “The way your muscles grabbed me, held on, milking me. Jesus, you felt so good.” Stevie’s body heat had jumped several degrees to match his. He was seriously hard and his self-control was slipping. “I bet you’re soaking wet right now, just like you were when I touched you there for the first time.” “Shut up.” “No,” he said and brushed his lips across hers. He smiled against them. “You taste like a bad, bad burger.” He licked her top lip. “With extra mayo and pickles.” “I’m worse than a heart attack on a plate, Jack,” she said hoarsely. “What a way to go.” “You might regret it.” Sliding his hands along her arms, he pulled her in to his embrace. “My only regret is not calling you after that most amazing night.” The words were out before he realized what he said. But they were true. So he owned it. She stiffened and he chastised himself for reminding her of his major fuckup. When she tried to push him away, he pulled her back toward him and caught her deep gaze. He took the next step. “I’m not back in the Bay Area by accident, Stevie.” Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?” “I’ve put in for the Bay Area since I came out of Quantico. I could have put in for anywhere, with no guarantees of anything, but I chose here. Where you were.” When she trembled in his arms, he gently caressed her. “When I told you I missed you, I didn’t lie.” “You’ve been back for how long?” “A year.” “A year?” She asked surprised. “It took you a year to make contact?” “I was working on a task force that had me traveling extensively. I wanted the time to be right. This case was the right time.” “I don’t believe you.” “Would you believe me if I told you I was afraid to reach out to you? That I could not have dealt with you refusing me?”

“So you created a way I couldn’t?” His gaze dropped to her lips. “Yeah. And I don’t have one regret this time.” As his eyes lifted to hers, he saw the doubt and wished he could convince her that he was not going to run again. “I want to believe you, I do, but damn it, I just—” “Remember what I taught you? About following your instincts?” “Yes.” “What are they telling you now?” “That you’re trying to be serious.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“I’ ve never been more serious in my life,” he said. His words, the way he looked so intently and unblinking at her, Stevie knew he believed he was sincere. And she believed he was sincere…but was he for the reasons she wanted him to be? “I believe you believe that, Jack, but—” She slid her hand along his thigh to his erection. He was so warm. So virile. A fresh rush of heat flooded her veins. He groaned when she gently caressed the thickening mound. “This bad boy does a lot of speaking on your brain’s behalf, only to regret the trouble he caused after the fact.” “You minimize my sincerity, Stevie.” He picked up her hand and set it back in her lap, then moved away from her. Cool air swooped in, taking his warmth with it. “This isn’t about sex. But I won’t lie; I want to tie you up and spank that sweet ass of yours pink. I want you squirming and begging for my dick so deep inside of you, you can’t breathe.” He paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in before he continued. “I want to bend you over my kitchen table and fuck you hard from behind, then turn you over and fuck you face-to-face.” He lowered his voice. “And I want to lay you down on my bed and make love to you, too. I won’t deny any of that.” He leaned toward her, his breath warm and moist on her cheeks. “But there’s more, Stevie. I want to possess you. I want to be your one and only obsession. I

want everything you own.” He smiled, the gesture dangerous as his fiery gaze swept her. “I want to own you.” Excitement sizzled through her. So did fear. Being possessed by a man like Jack came at a price. Could she sell her soul to the devil? “I don’t belong to any man.” “You belong to me. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can get on with the business of us.” Her jaw hung open. She snapped it shut and looked past him. Everything he said, she wanted, too. But that meant giving up control. Completely. A man like Thorn was possessive, like his friend Simon was with Katrina. Jack never did tell her what happened to the guy who touched Simon’s wife. Stalling for time she asked, “What happened to the last man who put his hands on Doc?” Jack’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Her husband beat him so viciously; he was in the hospital for three weeks before they could take his mug shot.” “Oh.” Jack stood and tossed a couple of twenties onto the table. “I was supposed to pay,” Stevie said, attempting to turn the conversation away from where she so desperately wanted to go with him. He held out his hand for her. “You’re going to. More than you know.” She swallowed hard. She wanted to know, God help her, she did. He guided her up from the seat, then dropped her hand and stood aside so that she could precede him to the front door, which he opened and held for her. When they came to the passenger side of his car, he said, “You will spend as long as necessary at my place, Stevie. I will put my hands on you. And you will allow me to.” He yanked the passenger door open. “There is nothing short of you tapping out that will stop me from taking what I want from you.” As she moved to get in, he caught her around her waist and pulled her against his chest. His confident eyes held hers. “Do you understand?” Not trusting her voice, she nodded. He smiled the smile of an outlaw who had just held up a bank and was about to shower in the bounty. Her bounty. Heat liquefied between her thighs. Squeezing her eyes shut, Stevie fought an

internal battle she knew her brain was not going to win. It never would, not as long as her heart and body craved Jack Thornton. The drive to her house was silent, each of them allowing this shift in their relationship to settle in. Jack had laid down the law. Stevie was shocked that she, a control freak, a modernday woman who needed no one and nothing, would entertain the idea of being in a relationship with a man who demanded total control of her. But was it control when she wanted the same things? She wanted to be possessed by Jack. He had been her obsession these last seven years. That wasn’t going to change except for her obsession becoming more desperate. Obsessing wasn’t healthy. Hell, it was the polar opposite. How would she survive him tiring of her and walking away? She exhaled loudly, as if she had been hit in the chest. “Stop thinking about it, Stevie, just go with it.” No guts no glory, right? Swallowing hard, she nodded, again not trusting her voice. After a few long minutes she said, “I’m afraid.” He reached over and entwined her fingers with his. “I’ll protect you.” When she looked over at him, he was smiling. “How can you, when you’re the one I need protection from?” “I think you have that turned around, sweetheart.” His words washed warm through her. “I guess we’ll have to see how this plays out to know for sure.” “I guess we will.” While Stevie threw together a suitcase for Jack’s place and their trip east, Jack was on a conference call updating her men as well as Deavers and Flynn. From their end: no sign of Spoltori at his apartment or his office. His Beemer had been located earlier in the day in Castro Valley just down the street from the registered owner of the black truck he’d tried to run Stevie off the road with. He was still at large, however. As Jack came back into her bedroom he said, “Spoltori gave us a gift by parking so close to the truck owner’s house. I wonder why he was so sloppy.” “Not sloppy; he’s arrogant and figured he’d be back and driving away in his car in no time.” “Which makes him all the more desperate.”

“He knows we’re on to him.” Jack nodded and made a quick call on his cell. “Ryker, I need you to add an addendum to the warrant we wrote up today, documenting the theft of the truck and the proximity of Spoltori’s vehicle to the residence of the stolen vehicle. I’ll need it no later than eleven thirty tonight. Thanks.” Jack looked up. “If that judge doesn’t give us everything now, I don’t care how bad it looks; we’re going to shop the warrant until we get a judge to sign off on it.” “Just turn that special agent charm of yours up a few notches and you’ll have Judge Halpert eating out of your hand.” Jack grinned. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s eight; I want to be at the meeting location by nine, which mean we leave here in thirty minutes. That doesn’t give us enough time to get to my place and be in Fremont by nine. What do you have left to do?” “Nothing. I’m packed. I just need to lock up on our way out.” Jack slid his phone into his pocket and stalked to where she stood by the side of her bed. “We’ve got a few minutes to kill.” His eyes blazed as they raked her from head to toe. “Unbutton your blouse,” he commanded softly. Swallowing slowly, Stevie reached up and began to unbutton her blouse. When it hung open he moved into her space. “Slide it off your shoulders, slowly.” She did. Her breasts plumped as her nipples poked against the thin lace of her bra. “Now take off your pants but leave your panties on.” “Jack—” “That’s one spanking for later. Now do as I say or I add another one.” She did. He nudged the shirt off her shoulders, his fingertips grazing her sensitive skin. Warmth flushed in the wake of his touch. “Take off the bra.” As it slid from her fingertips, he said softly. “I love your tits. I love the nipple rings.” He plucked one gently. Shivers raced across her skin. “Why did you do this?” “I—” She was embarrassed to tell him. “That’s two spanks, Stevie.” “My nipples are really sensitive. I never knew how much until you. I had them pierced so that when I played with them, I’d get the maximum sensation, just like I had with you.”

He smiled and plucked the other one. “You’re beautiful, you know. Everything about you. I like the way your breasts flush when I look at them, how they grow heavy from my touch. The way your nipples are so responsive to my fingers and mouth. You are the most sensual creature I’ve ever met, Stevie. Your body was made for sex.” His eyes blazed. “With me. And only me.” He stood back and held her gaze with his. She stood tall and proud, before him. “Take off your shoes.” She did. “Don’t move,” he huskily commanded, then walked into her closet and returned with the peek-a-boo pumps she’d worn to the fundraiser. Handing them to her, he told her to put them on. As she slipped them on, her sensitive breasts bobbed, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jack. Heat infused her, and so did a sense of the power she held over this man. She had something he wanted badly. She was the gatekeeper, she decided if he got it or not. When she straightened, Stevie looked directly at him, a small triumphant smile on her face. He smiled back as he sauntered toward her, a big dark panther about to pounce. He moved as close to her as he could without actually touching her. He had not removed one stitch of clothing while she stood before him almost naked. The contrast hyped up her excitement. “You like the fact that I’d do anything just to touch you?” he rasped. “Yes.” He closed his eyes and softly inhaled her scent. “That I’d kill any man who tried to harm you?” “Yes.” He opened his brilliant green eyes. “That I’d sell my soul to the devil to be inside you?” “Yes,” she breathed. Her heart beat like a drum. Her nipples were so tight, they ached to be touched. “I’m glad we have that understanding.” His lips brushed against hers. She whimpered, wanting more. “I know you have toys,” he said. “Get one.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A wave of shyness swept through her, but it was quickly replaced with heady excitement. She turned to her nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out her favorite vibrator. When she turned back to face Jack, she smiled and stroked it. “His name is Jack.” Her vibrator’s namesake grinned. Her gaze dipped to his tenting trousers. “Lie down,” he commanded. As she slid back on the bed, Jack’s gaze held hers. “Sit up against the headboard, put a pillow under your ass, then bring up your knees so your heels are digging into the bed.” A rush of heat flooded her. Stevie did as commanded. “Spread your legs.” His voice had lowered to sandpaper rough. Letting her knees part, she closed her eyes as shyness swept through her again. Jack snapped his fingers, getting her attention. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.” Biting her bottom lip, Stevie nodded and caught his hot stare. “What do you think of when you touch yourself, baby?” Jack asked softly. “You.” He smiled and nodded. “Your nipples are so hard and we haven’t even begun.” His eyes darkened. “They’re going to get harder,” he promised. Having no doubt about that, Stevie was having difficulty catching a regular breathing

pattern, her anticipation was so extreme. “Are you wet for me, sweetheart?” She nodded, unsure of her voice. “Show me how wet.” Setting the vibrator down on the bed beside her, she slid her hands down her taut belly. Jack’s nostrils flared with the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Power surged through her. He might be calling the shots, but she was in control. Sliding the sodden edge of her lace panties aside with two fingers of her left hand, she slid two fingers from her right along her smooth mound, moaning softly at the contact. “So pretty and pink,” Jack rasped. “I want to eat you up.” “I want you to.” She was famished for him. He inhaled, the heavy lids of his eyes falling low. “I can smell your sex from here. Dip a finger into that sweet pussy, Stevie.” She did and they moaned in unison, their simmering desire building. “Yes. Damn, you are so fucking hot right now. Keep your panties pulled aside so I can look at you. Now lube your nipples with your juice.” When she did, Stevie bit back another moan. “Pluck your nipples, Stevie. Imagine it’s me. Yes, like that.” Inhibition fled her. The power of being exposed on such a primal level to this man left her breathless and wanting to give him even more of herself. As her hips bucked, grinding against his imaginary cock, her knees fell wider apart. “So hungry, aren’t you?” “Yes,” she breathed. “What do you think of when you’re alone, touching yourself?” “How much I want you.” “How do you want me?” “Deep. Hard. Relentless.” Pulse racing as she said the words, her fingers tugged harder at her nipple ring. God, she wanted Jack’s mouth on her. “That’s how I’m going to take you, Stevie,” he promised. “I’m going to hit you deep, hard and relentless.” She licked her dry lips. Her clit throbbed for the attention she was dying to give it.

“Turn your toy on.” Breathless, she did. As she started to press it between her legs, Jack shook his head. “To your nipples.” She arched as the slow swirling vibration touched her ultrasensitive nipples. Blood thundered through her veins. Jack’s eyes deepened to dark green. “Now, slide it down your belly.” She did. Her mouth gaped as the vibrations hit her clitoris. “Does that feel good?” “Yes,” she gasped. “I’m so hard for you right now.” “Touch me,” she begged. “No, baby, this is all you. I love watching you pleasure yourself.” “I need to come, Jack.” “Slide it along your lips.” She moaned loudly as she did, her hips rocking as sensation rushed through her. “Slowly, up and down. Oh, no, don’t be greedy, Stevie, no penetration.” She cried out, frustrated. “Jack, please.” “You are pleasing me. Doesn’t that feel good?” “Yesss.” “Good, now take some of that sweet honey and swirl it around your clit with your finger.” Her breath hitched at the contact. Her nipples were abuzz with sensation combined with her stroking herself and Jack watching. She was on the verge of climaxing. Swallowing hard, she slid “Jack” along her straining nub and nearly came. Overcome with sweet, hot desire, she closed her eyes to savor this new empowering feeling. “Eyes open, Stevie.” They opened. The planes of Jack’s face had tightened. He was completely focused on her. “Rub the tip of the vibrator back and forth across your clit. Slow and soft. I don’t want you to come yet.” She did as he said. “I wish you could see how sexy you look right now, sweetheart. Those fuck-me heels digging into the bed, your legs spread apart, that sweet cunt glistening wet and pink. So swollen with desire. Your stiff nipples begging for my mouth. Your luscious lips parted, your

big blue eyes begging for permission to come. Every part of you wanting to explode.” He stepped closer to the bedside. “Jack,” she moaned as her hips rocked against the vibrator. “Please…” “Please, what?” “Let me come. I need to.” He leaned down to her pussy. “Yes,” she gasped. “Please,” she begged, raising her hips to him in offering. “Take all of me.” He blew on her swollen folds, pushing her so far to the edge she nearly launched. “Not yet, sweetheart.” “Jack,” she cried, writhing beneath him. She was desperate for him. “Please.” “No, baby. Not yet.” He took the vibrator from her and turned it off. Breathless with anticipation she waited, ready to hang on to his next command as if her life depended on it. He pulled her legs down so that her entire body was flush against the mattress. In a pushup position over her, he lowered his lips to hers and brushed them against her. Like a starved bird she begged for a deeper kiss. He moved away, his dark, dangerous eyes holding hers. “Jack,” she pleaded. “I need to feel you inside of me.” His eyes flashed fire. “When I fill you, you’re going to feel me for days.” He pushed off the bed and said, “When you come, you come because I made you come. Now get dressed. We have a bad guy to catch.” “Jack!” she screamed, so frustrated she wanted to hurt him. “You can’t leave me like this!” He smiled and tapped his watch. “We’ve run out of time.” He tossed the vibrator into her open drawer and said over his shoulder on his way out, “You won’t need that anymore. When you come, you come with me inside you. Now get dressed.” Stevie cursed Jack the entire drive to Fremont. Every nerve ending in her body throbbed. She felt raw. Exposed. On edge. Every sense heightened, on alert. As they exited the freeway, she glared at him. “I hate you,” she hissed. “You’re going to love me later on,” he promised. The old Stevie would have been embarrassed and felt as if he was playing with her. And

while he was, it wasn’t to prove a point. Well, yes it was, the point being hyping up the anticipation of him inside of her. Hence her forbiddance from orgasm. But how could he be so casual about what had just happened between them? He must be as frustrated as she. “Are you still hard?” she asked. His jaw tightened when he said, “As granite.” “Good. I hope it hurts.” “Like a mother.” She sat back in her seat, slightly mollified. “That makes me very happy.” “I had no doubt it would.” As they came to a light, Stevie said, “Payback is a bitch, Jack.” “Is that a threat?” “Nope, it’s a promise.” He grinned as they pulled up into the empty parking lot of the address Spoltori’s secretary had given them. It was nine on the dot, a solid thirty minutes before the agreed-upon meet time. The day care center was a single-story building in a decent part of town. The lot was large and well lit and looked like it went all of the way around the building. When Stevie’s cell phone chirped it startled her. “It’s Spoltori!” she said, recognizing the number. Hitting speaker, Stevie answered. “Hello,” she said, as casually as she could. Her heart belied her tone. It raced like a greyhound after a rabbit. “My friend won’t be needing that Valentino after all, Detective,” he said, then hung up. “Mario!” But the line was dead. She hit End and looked at Jack, who scowled heavily. “Something’s off,” he darkly said. The hair on the back of Stevie’s neck spiked. “Do you think he knows she called us?” “I don’t know but I’m not taking any chances” When he put the car in drive, he said, “Call Fremont PD and Fire and tell them to roll code.” Pulling her radio out of her purse Stevie called in to her dispatch and gave her the instructions as her eyes scanned the parking lot. As they turned toward the back lot, Stevie pointed to their two o’clock direction. “Over there in the corner, under the light.”

Facing them, showered in the light from a security light pole, was a small dark four-door vehicle with its parking lights on. There was no missing it. As they cautiously approached it, Stevie pulled out her radio and called in the plate to dispatch. “Registered to a Joan B. Schillner, 30323 Stevenson Boulevard, apartment three, Fremont,” Dispatch replied. “Looks like she’s waiting,” Stevie said. She shook her head, slipping the radio back into her bag. “If I had had to put money on her showing, I would have bet against her, especially arriving early.” Jack put the car into park, then pulled the key from the ignition. “Me, too,” he said getting out of the car. “Keep your eyes peeled.” “This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy.” Stevie exited and followed him, her head on a swivel, scoping out their surroundings. “Fuck!” Jack cursed, rushing to the driver door. Stevie stepped to the side and looked at the driver. The hair on the back of her neck spiked. Joan Schillner had made it all right, along with a bullet right between the eyes.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“J esus!” Stevie angrily said as Jack checked for a pulse. It was futile. She was gone. “She’s still warm, damn it!” Jack cursed. Guilt washed through Stevie. While she had been worried about orgasming, Joan Schillner paid with her life. “We should have come sooner.” Jack’s head snapped back and his eyes narrowed. “We are early.” He went to his car and pulled out a high-powered flashlight and shined it into the car. “No cell or purse. Bastard took it.” “How did he know she was meeting us?” “I don’t know,” he growled. “How could he get around with an injured leg?” “I guess he’s Superman, Stevie.” Jack swiped his hand across his face. “Fuck!” he yelled at the eerie silence. “Son of a fucking bitch!” he shouted, punching the air. The distant wail of sirens echoed around them. “It’s not your fault, Jack.” He turned furious eyes on her. “I told her I’d protect her. Now I have to call her mother and tell her over the damn phone that I fucked up and because of it her daughter’s dead, and her granddaughter will grow up without her mother.”

Fire came roaring in. As they pulled up, Jack and Stevie stepped back. It didn’t matter that Miss Schillner was dead. Fire had to make that call themselves and in the process they usually compromised the crime scene. “Take it easy on the crime scene, guys?” Stevie called. Shock of shocks, they did. Within seconds of Fire arriving on scene, Fremont PD showed up. Jack was on the phone with his men and Stevie was on the phone with hers bringing them up to speed. The BOLF on Spoltori was updated to include homicide. When it was apparent that there were no personal belongings in the vehicle or on the victim, Jack said, “I’m not waiting until midnight for that warrant. We have enough to get what we want, even if Rincon is a complete hard-ass.” Stevie nodded, took a quick minute to update the lead Fremont detective with their contact information, then called in this latest development to her Watch Commander. Jack’s demeanor as they sped up 880 to the courthouse was cold and closed. Stevie gave him that. She’d been there herself a few times. Once they were in judge’s chambers and Stevie explained the latest developments in the case, the judge nodded. As he read through the pages, he made an occasional note on his legal pad, but didn’t ask any questions for clarification. Not that any was needed. She and Jack had written the mother of all warrants. Every single detail was included, all but the latest developments. Only an idiot would be confused. It took the judge two hours to read through the information and ask questions. Jack stewed silently the entire time. When Judge Rincon was done, he looked up at Stevie, then Jack, and said, “My compliments. I have never in twenty years sitting on the bench read such thorough, welldrafted paperwork.” He signed off on the entire warrant. As he handed the pages to Stevie, he said, “Good luck.” Five minutes later, they were back at HQ with half a dozen FBI techs and several uniforms whom they had called in to stand by for the search and seizure. “Which one do you want, Jack?” Stevie asked. “Which one what?” he asked, still in his own world. “Office or apartment?”

“No separation. We’re doing this together.” “It will go quicker if we split up.” She handed him the paperwork for Spoltori’s office. “You take the office; I’m heading to his apartment.” He took the warrant, but grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him. “We work together.” “What if Spoltori shows up at one while we’re at the other?” Jack called to Deavers, who had just walked in. “Here’s the warrant for Spoltori’s apartment on Broadway; it covers everything, including all of his electronic devices. Take half our techs to collect the evidence, then take all the electronics straight to Menlo Park. There will be someone at the cyber lab to accept it.” “You got it.” He took the warrant, three techs, and two uniforms. Jack looked at the rest of the assembled group. “The rest of you are with us.” Two hours later, every electronic device within The Edge Fund Group’s offices was bagged and tagged and on its way to the FBI cyber-crime lab in Menlo Park, California. It was cutting edge and Stevie could not have been happier it was so close. Not that they would get instant feedback. Just like any crime lab, the FBI cyber lab was backed up. They not only processed evidence for their own federal cases, but for law enforcement agencies all over the country. Stevie wasn’t surprised that their search of Spoltori’s desk, file cabinets, and other areas of his office came up clean. He was careful that way. He wouldn’t leave anything incriminating out in the open. With full search authority granted in the warrant, she was sure they’d hit the mother lode when it came to his cell phone and computers. As the last tech van drove off, Stevie and Jack stood silently on the sidewalk. It was pushing three in the morning. As taxed as they were, they were running on pure adrenaline at the moment. Spoltori was within their grasp. They would beat the bushes until they flushed him out. “Let’s go back to my place and regroup before we have to hit the streets,” Jack said, starting for his car. Stevie nodded, wanting him to talk about his feelings, but not wanting to push. He had closed up so tight; he spoke only when giving a directive. During the search, everyone had skirted around him. When Jack pulled up to the Alameda Marina she was confused. He grabbed her duffel from the backseat and started for the locked gate without her. He unlocked the gate, held it

open for her, and when she passed through he closed it and locked it behind them. He strode down a long pier and she hurried to keep up. The night was balmy; the crisp seawater smell, a low breeze tumbling along the pier, the tinkling sound of rigging, and the low swoosh of water splashing against hulls lulled her as they went farther down the pier. Leave it to Jack to live on a boat. Why didn’t she? “I love the water.” He didn’t respond, just kept up his pace. They stopped at a sleek fifty-two-foot Cruiser. Stevie whistled. “Nice dinghy you got there.” “It works,” Jack said, an edge to his voice. She chuckled as she noticed the name of the vessel, Miranda. “For Miranda rights? Good one, Jack.” He boarded and unlocked the door to the cockpit. He turned, extending his hand to her, and hauled her on deck. “Welcome aboard,” he said, his manner clipped, then proceeded below decks. “I’ll put your bag in the forward stateroom,” he said, moving past her. His words stung because she knew the captain’s stateroom was always aft. It would be the larger of the two staterooms. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” she said. “It’s for the best,” he said, not looking at her when he said it. Stevie swallowed hard. He had been pulling away since they discovered Joan Schillner’s body. She understood that he was upset. So was she. But the blame game would only drive him insane. He was not derelict of duty in any way. Letting out a long breath, she decided to give him space. But before she offered, she wanted to understand the parameters of his needs. “The best for you or the best for me?” she asked. “For us both.” “Speak for yourself, Jack. I’m here because I want to be with you.” “Being with me right now would not be good for you.” “Again, speak for yourself, and stop making decisions for me that involve me.” “I don’t want to be with anyone right now,” he said, staring at a mark behind her. Her heart tightened. “So now I’m anyone?”

“No, of course not, I just want some space.” Damn his need for space! Moving in on him, she demanded, “How long do you want me to give you said space?” She knew she was sounding pathetic and desperate. And she was. Both. She wanted him, now, Tomorrow. Forever. But he was trying to push her out. Again. “Permanently.” Air whooshed from her lungs as if she had been kicked. “Why?” This wasn’t happening. Still not looking at her, he answered, “It was a mistake, Stevie. I’m sorry.” He grabbed a glass from the sidebar, opened a bottle of Jameson, and poured a generous portion. He tossed it back and poured another. Stevie fought the rising hysteria in her heart and collected herself. This was a joke. It wasn’t happening. Jack wasn’t himself. They could work through this. Right? “Drowning your sorrows will only make it worse, Jack. Take it from someone who knows.” He glared at her and poured another glass. When he’d tossed that one down, he looked at her, pain shadowing his eyes. “It’s my fault she’s dead. I lost focus.” “Really? How so?” “I allowed my personal desires to keep me from what I should have been doing.” “Which was what, Jack?” “I should have been there to protect her!” “You were there! How were you supposed to know Spoltori had a bead on her?” “It’s my fucking job to know! Instead I was watching you jerk off!” “It was my job to know, too, but damn it, neither one of us knew Spoltori was following her! How could we?” Shaking her head, Stevie set her hands on her hips and exhaled. “By my oath to protect the public, I let her down too, Jack. As much as I want to take it back, I can’t. Even though we decided to go in early, we still had time to kill. That we chose to kill that time the way we did is irrelevant. Had we stopped for a coffee and wasted some time chatting, the outcome would still be the same. I’m not going to allow a deranged killer’s acts to define me. Or us.” “I should have been there. I chose you over protecting her.” Stevie threw her head back and laughed. “Really, Jack? Is that how you’re going to play this out? Is that how you’re going to slide out of this relationship before it even gets off the ground?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled, pouring another drink. “I’m talking about us, damn it. You. Me. Together. You trying. Me trying. We’ve been going two hundred miles an hour since you bullied your way into my case. I pushed back, but you pushed harder. Fine, you got to me. I give and now you push me away?” She snatched the glass from his hand and slammed it down on the counter, then got in his face. “Is it too hot in here for you, Jack?” “My coming back was a mistake.” “You’re a coward.” She grabbed her duffel and hauled it over her shoulder. “Consider yourself relieved of me, Captain Jack!” she spat. She turned to walk away, praying he would call her out. But he didn’t. “I’ll have Flynn pick you up and take you to a hotel until we get Spoltori,” he said quietly. “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, Jack. I’m going home. Tell your Neanderthal friends to stay the hell away from me and my property.” She walked out, and never once looked over her shoulder. Jack walked into the squad room the next morning feeling like hell. He hadn’t slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Joan Schillner’s accusing dead eyes. Making the death notification was just as hard. Because of his fucking hard-on for Stevie, a woman was dead and her daughter was going to grow up without her mother. Yet riding hard on his guilt was his worry about Stevie. Every time he saw Joan’s dead eyes, he saw Stevie’s. The pain in his heart was unbearable. He would never survive losing her to a killer like Spoltori. He’d called a few guys to keep an eye on her place from a distance. But even so, with Spoltori at large, he wasn’t comfortable knowing she was in that house alone and no matter how badass she thought she was, she was vulnerable. Swiping his hand across his face, he texted her: Where are you? She should have been in by now. He wanted to apologize for leading her on. It was wrong. He shouldn’t have. He wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Hurting her was the last thing he’d wanted to do, and he’d done it in spades. He felt like shit. “Thornton,” Captain Russo called to him from his office door, “my office.”

When Jack closed the door behind him, Russo scowled and sat down behind his desk. “What the fuck is going on? Why is Cavanaugh alone on that plane east?” Jack’s jaw dropped. “She, we—” He stood. “I don’t know, sir, we had to push our flight back to tonight because we missed it last night due to the case.” “Why wouldn’t she inform you? Why aren’t you on that plane with her?” Russo’s dark brows crowded together over his furious eyes. “I only agreed to this because you’re the best street cop I know, second only to Detective Cavanaugh. Somehow you fucked it up. Un-fuck it up and get Spoltori.” “Yes, sir.” Jack’s instinct was to jump on a plane and follow her. But he told himself she was safer out of the state than in it. He could work the case from this end with no distractions and she could work it from that end with none as well. Plus it would give her a chance to get over him, and he her. Because they were mature adults they could maintain a professional relationship, and despite their high-octane chemistry, they were still a crackerjack investigative team. When she didn’t respond to his repeated texts that day or the next, he started to get angry. When he learned that she had been burning up the phone with Flynn, he came unglued.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

S tevie had been gone four days and it felt like four years. He missed her. He wanted her. But he told himself he couldn’t have her. Angrily, Jack paced the HQ office. When he got his hands on Ryker, he was going to tear him apart. “What’s your deal, Thorn?” Ryker asked as he entered the small room, soundly closing the door behind him. Jack turned and kept himself from lunging at his turncoat friend. “Stay the fuck away from Stevie.” Flynn shrugged off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, then turned and faced Jack. “You want to take this outside?” “She’s off limits.” “Only because you’re my friend who is about to fuck up his life am I going to say this, Thorn, and I’m only going to say it once: I won’t stay the fuck away from her. We’re working a case together. If you have a problem with that, it’s your damn problem.” “She’s shutting me out.” “Because you’re an asshole. You shut the door, live with it. As far as the case goes, she’s on it, and I’m on it.” He leveled Jack with an intent stare. “Maybe it’s time you recused yourself.” Fury and jealousy tangled in his gut. He wasn’t about to step aside and let Ryker take his

case or his…what? What was Stevie to him? He’d set her free, he had no claim. But the thought of any man, even his good friend, touching her, ripped him up inside. “Stay away from her.” “If you’re saying that because you think I have a shot with her, forget it. You fucked her up for anyone else.” “Son of a bitch!” Jack punched Ryker in the jaw. Flynn fell back against the table and swiped the back of his hand across his bloody lip. “You’re losing it big-time, Thorn.” Jack moved in, furious his friend had gone poaching. Stevie was on her own special pedestal. Untouchable. “I told you to stay away from her and you hit on her the minute my back was turned,” Jack accused. He knew he was being completely irrational. But the thought of Stevie with his friend was too much to stomach. Because he knew Flynn was a love-themand-leave-them kind of guy—just like he was. Jack’s blood chilled in his veins. Stevie deserved more. Was Flynn willing to be that guy? Fuck it all to hell. Jack wanted full rights to Stevie. Flynn shook his head, wiping at his lip again. “Asshole, I didn’t hit on her. A blind man can see she’s hurting. That’s all on you, buddy, not me.” He faced Jack squarely. “Now if that isn’t good enough for you, let’s take this outside.” Jack exhaled and jammed his fingers through his hair. “You cut her loose, now live with the choice.” Flynn chafed, sitting down at the desk. “That means you have no say in her life, Jack. Zero.” “I had to,” Jack choked out. He couldn’t bear losing her. “You’re running scared.” Flynn pushed his chair back and looked up at Jack. “It’s unfortunate what happened to Joan Schillner. But you didn’t pull the trigger. You’re not responsible.” “It’s more than that.” “What more?” “When I saw the victim’s dead eyes staring at me, it took me back to Melissa. I can’t do that again.” “Mel wasn’t your fault.” “Yeah, it was.”

“You told her to stay put until you arrived on scene. She ignored your order and got herself killed. Stevie isn’t inexperienced like Mel was. Yeah, she’s high-strung, but she’s also a badass and can take care of herself. You need to allow her that and stop wringing your hands and crying like a baby about something happening to her.” “I was Melissa’s training officer. She was my responsibility. I should have been there.” Flynn shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Then beat yourself up over it for the rest of your life, Thorn, but let Stevie go. She deserves that much from you.” He turned back to the laptop and began inputting case notes. “I’ve been updating the case files and should have the file complete in a few hours. There’s a lot of new information you need to read through.” Jack jammed his fingers through his hair again. Over his shoulder, Ryker said, “She’s on her way in. Do us all a favor and take some time off until you settle down.” “Yeah,” he said. Ryker was right. He needed to get out of the building and clear his head. He grabbed his jacket and as he shrugged it on he opened the door. When he looked up, he saw her standing at the end of hall. His body jerked in reaction. Heat rushed through his veins. No matter how she was dressed, she always took his breath away and today was no different. She wasn’t wearing her normal work attire. Today she was dressed casually in a short white skirt that hugged her hips and a fitted blue tank that sculpted her full breasts. Her long tan legs went on forever until her pink polished toes peeked out from a pair of wedge sandals. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, not her usual braid. Had she just come from the airport? She strode past him as if he were invisible. In her wake, her coconutty scent flirted with his nose. Blood roared to his dick. Fisting his hands, he set his jaw and stalked from the squad room. “Cavanaugh?” he heard Captain Russo call from his office. “My office.” Jack moved down the hall and took the stairs three at a time. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Stevie and give her space, but he knew if he stayed, he’d make a bad situation worse. He needed to clear his head, sort it out. He’d take Miranda out for a run along the Farallones. A nice rough sea to take his mind off the churning inside of him was just what he

needed. Twenty minutes later he was standing in the galley, pouring himself a healthy dose of Jameson when he heard the determined footsteps on the pier coming straight for him. He knew without looking who it was. She probably shot the lock off the security gate to get in. Blood shot through his veins. And damn if he wasn’t getting hard. “Jack Thornton, you son of a bitch!” Stevie yelled from the pier. The boat rocked slightly as she boarded. As she climbed down the steps into the galley, she came down swinging and punched him in the jaw. Stunned, he stared at her. “That was for what you did to Ryker!” She cocked her arm and swung at him again, hitting him hard in the chest. “And that’s for lying to me, you cowardly bastard!” She pulled her arm back again and when she went in for the third punch, he grabbed her fist in midswing. Spinning her around so that her back was against his chest, Jack wrapped his free arm around her arm and chest, staving off further attacks. “Damn it, Stevie, stop!” She stomped on his foot with her wedge sandal, loosening his hold, then elbowed him in the ribs. Grunting in pain he caught her harder against him. She was having none of it. She threw her head back to head butt him. He ducked sideways, barely missed getting his nose broken. Then she back-kicked him, tipping them both off balance. Inertia threw them forward. To cushion her fall, he twisted, catching the carpeted edge of the stairs with the back of his upper arm, then rounded her out, pressing her chest-first against the treads. Now she was pinned between his body and the stairway. “I said stop it,” he growled against her ear. Her scent tore mercilessly through his senses, provoking his lust. His nose pressed against her clean silky hair. Closing his eyes, he set his jaw. There was no fighting what she did to him. Red, hot, raw desire unleashed within him. “I hate you, Jack Thornton! I hate you with every fiber of my being!” she screamed, fighting to break his grip on her. He only tightened it. Her ass pushed back into his groin, igniting him. “Stop it,” he roughly commanded, his lips brushing her ear. Her body stilled instantly. He felt the rush of her breath from her lungs and the hardening of her nipples against his forearm.

Closing his eyes, he nuzzled her ear. His hands slid down her waist to the cradle of her hips. “You’re in my blood, baby.” His lips grazed her neck. She arched, grabbing the top step. He bunched her skirt in his fists, pulling it up, then slid his palms along her sultry skin. “I can’t live without touching you again.” His fingers slid between her panties and her warming flesh. She moaned, and though her body was stiff and unengaging, she didn’t stop him. “I need you. God help me, but I do.” His fingers slid along her smooth mound. “You need me, too, Stevie. I can smell it on you.” She made a strangling sound as she shook her head. Sliding a thick finger along her wet seam, Jack inhaled sharply. “Your body doesn’t lie, sweetheart.” He nudged a fingertip into her. “Tell me you want me, too.” “No,” she breathed. Parting her thighs with his knee, he nudged her up a step, and pressed deeper into her slick folds. He could feel the hard thud of her heart against his chest. Still she didn’t engage. Still she didn’t push him away. Unbuttoning his trousers, Jack yanked down his zipper. Hot and heavy, his eager cock sprang out. He couldn’t control it. His need for her overrode every other need. Spreading her wider with his knee, he slid his finger from her, replacing it with the swollen head of his cock. A rush of perspiration flushed her skin as her body shuddered. She could no more resist him than he could her. He pulled out of her, yanked her ponytail back, forcing her to bow, and bit down on her neck as he nudged into her again, this time an inch past his head. Air whooshed from her lungs. “Tell me you forgive me for being a coward.” “No,” she whispered. He withdrew again. He pushed her arms over her head and held her hands together at the wrists. His lips trailed along the curve of her cheek to her ear. “Tell me how much you want me inside of you, Stevie.” He nudged another inch into her, then withdrew. “Or I take it all away.” “No,” she said, her voice a strangled whisper.

He pressed the head of his swollen cock to her slick opening, and swirled his hips. Her body went corpse still. He pushed deeper into her. “God,” she breathed. With his free hand, he pulled her back against his chest. “Don’t hate me, sweetheart. I need you to love me.” Tortuously slow, he pushed deeply into her. Her hot, wet cunt gripped him like a fist, her slick velvet muscles contracting around him, and pushed him to the edge of shattering. “I can’t love you,” she rasped. He slowly withdrew, then thrust slow and deep. God, she felt good. “I need you to.” “Can’t,” she sobbed. “Hurts too much.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

H er words cut him to the marrow. He moved to turn her around, but she shook him off. “Don’t,” she whispered hoarsely. “Just—” She pressed her ass back into him. “Finish.” “Stevie,” he exhaled. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. But he didn’t want to hurt her. “Finish,” she rasped. His hands slid down to the curve of her hips. God he loved touching her. Closing his eyes, Jack dug his fingers into her pliant flesh and pulled her onto his stiff cock, hitting her deep. She softly exhaled as she grabbed the rails on either side of the stairway. He pulled her ponytail, and her neck bowed. Her jugular pulsed wildly, and he scraped it with his teeth. He nearly withdrew from her, then thrust again, loving the way her sweet pussy clung desperately to his hungry cock. He hit her hard. He hit her deep. He hit her long. Her rigid body liquefied around him and she cried out as one spasm after another wracked her. The tension that had been building for days exploded from him in a thick stream of hot semen. Her body milked him, ravenously extracting every drop he had. Dropping his head to the crook of her shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened and pushed him off. As she turned around, he stopped breathing. She looked

crushed. Her big soulful blue eyes stared at him, the pain emanating from them unbearable. The tracks of tears streaked her cheeks. He’d done that to her. “God, Stevie, I’m so sorry.” He hated himself. “You said that the last time, too.” She tapped the nearest step three times. “I’m tapping out, Jack. Don’t come near me again.” She shoved her skirt down and without looking over her shoulder, she climbed the stairs and walked out of his life. Numbly, he blinked. When it finally registered that she was gone, he sat down on the edge of the counter and knew he had made the biggest mistake of his life by letting her go. He yanked up his trousers and as he climbed the stairs, he pulled up his zipper. “Stevie!” he yelled to her retreating body. Instead of stopping or even slowing down, she started to run. He ran after her. She came to the open gate and as she went through it, she slammed it shut and held it closed. He grabbed her fingers through the chain links. “Don’t go.” Mascara streaked tears streamed down her face. “I can’t stay. Please. Leave me alone.” Releasing his fingers, she stepped back. Their gazes locked. Then she turned away. He didn’t come after her. Stevie sobbed harder. She’d told him not to. For once he respected her boundary. It was the right thing to do. She couldn’t do the roller-coaster ride that was Jack. She wasn’t cut out for emotional upheaval. She deserved more than a man who just wanted sex from her. She wanted it all. To love and be loved. She would never have it all with Jack. He wasn’t capable of giving it all. Knowing the reality made it that much more difficult to accept the finality of it. Walking away from Jack was as heart-wrenching as losing a loved one to death. There was no getting them back. No deals with God or the devil. No magic wand, no amount of pleading or promising would bring them back. It was just done. She had to accept it. Not accepting it would drive her insane. Her cell chirped that she had a text. Thinking it was Jack, her heart leapt. She hated that. Despite all the pain he had inflicted on her, her heart still leapt with hope. You’re a fool. She slid her cell from her little strap purse and saw an unfamiliar number.

Hi, Stevie, it’s Katrina. Simon and I wanted to know if you and Jack would like to join us for dinner at my place in the city this Saturday night?

Sadness swept through her. She liked Katrina and while Simon was a bit much, he was no more to handle than Jack would have been. It would have been nice. I’m sorry, Doc, but Jack and I are no more.

As Stevie got into her car her cell chirped again. I’m so sorry. I’m here if you need to talk. Thanks

She didn’t need to talk. There was nothing to say. They’d just had their final fuck. It was over. A deep sob constricted her chest. Her body still pulsed from his touch. His ejaculate, still wet from his body, smeared the inside of her thighs. He said he needed her to love him. She did, God help her, she did. But she needed him to love her back. Enough not to run when he got cold feet, but to stand beside her and fight for her, not against her. She sat for a long time staring out the windshield at the estuary. Watching the seagulls swoop and turn, then fly high into the sky. They were free. No worries except what was for dinner. All her life she had been trapped. Trapped by what others decided for her. She wanted the freedom to make her own choices, not be beholden to anyone or any entity. She exhaled sharply. That was a lie; she wanted to be beholden to a man who wanted to be beholden to her. She’d wasted the last seven years of her life so focused on Jack; she hadn’t given herself the chance to look past him. Her heart ached. He’d promised not to pull the no-explanation-disappearing-act again, but he had. Why couldn’t Jack commit? What was he so afraid of? Grabbing a tissue from the console she blew her nose. They had seemed to be on the right track, but in the end he just couldn’t do it. The old insecurities crept up on her. She’d shown her weakness for him repeatedly. It was her fatal flaw. Her undoing. She turned the key over. “Jesus,” she swore. After seeing what Jack had done to Flynn, she’s come loaded for bear, ready to let him have it. How dare he go after Flynn like that when he’d cut her loose? If she wanted Flynn she’d have him! Bitterly she laughed. Yeah, she’d let Jack have it all right, just like she always did. She couldn’t stop him from taking what he wanted because despite it all, sick twisted sister that

she was, she wanted him inside of her. Hard and rough, just like he took her. Heat flushed her skin. She’d come so hard she could barely stand. Tremors had continued to roll through her as she left the boat. Her body still craved the pulse of him inside of her. She put the car into drive and slowly navigated from the parking lot, knowing this time it was over. The deep black abyss of life without Jack wrapped its lonely fingers around her heart and squeezed. She drove home on autopilot. She needed a break from the PD, her case, and her life. With Spoltori on the lam, there was nothing more to do until they got him. They had enough to not only arrest him, but convince a jury he was a serial killer. This wasn’t how she’d wanted it to go down. She’d dreamed of striding into his office and arresting him in front of his staff. Exhaling a long breath, she shrugged. Nothing went according to plan lately. As she drove down her street she was surprised see two Pleasanton PD patrol cars parked out front of her house. Pulling up she rolled down her window. “You guys don’t need to hang out, I’m good.” “We have a few hours left to our shift, Detective,” one of the officers said. “If it’s all the same to you, we’ll hang out until then.” Stevie shrugged. “Suit yourself, but if something pops, go for it.” They nodded. She let herself into her house, stopped at the threshold, and shivered. It was freezing cold. Had she left the air on when she left for the airport earlier in the week? Checking the thermostat she frowned. It was at sixty-six. The house smelled clean. It was probably her cleaning lady, Imelda. It was hot as hell in the valley this time of year. Stevie kicked her shoes off, and dropped her overnight bag and purse on the kitchen table. Her stomach growled, but she wasn’t hungry. She opened the fridge anyway. Except for a few condiments, a couple of beers, the leftover pizza from the other night, and an open bottle of Chardonnay, it was empty. She grabbed the bottle, pulled the cork out with her teeth, and took a long swig. Maybe she’d get drunk and go drown herself out back. She walked back to her bedroom and scowled. The bed was rumpled. Had Imelda not made it? Shaking her head, she stepped into her walk-in closet and stripped. It was past dinnertime.

It was hot, she was getting a buzz, and she wanted to cry. But she sucked it up, and after grabbing her terry pool robe, a big beach towel, her flip-flops, and her bottle, she trudged to the backyard and the black bottom pool. And there she sat at the beach entrance to her pool as the warm water lapped her feet and ass, wrapped in the damp towel, drinking the wine, and watching the red and orange hues of the sunset turn to purple, then black. Jack paced the small confines of the galley. He was so torn up inside he didn’t know which way to lean. He wanted Stevie more than life itself, but he was terrified of losing her in the end. He couldn’t handle that. It was better this way. It had to be. She’d find some nice normal guy with a nice normal job and they’d have a nice normal life with nice normal kids. She’d make chief and all would be well in her world. Jack couldn’t offer her that. He had no control over where he was assigned. He couldn’t expect her to just quit her job and follow him. Her career was too important to her to uproot and follow him off to wherever the federal government decided to send him next. “Fuck!” he cursed, punching his open palm. It wasn’t that. He was lying to himself. He’d fucking flip hamburgers for a living if she asked him to. His issues went far deeper than their respective careers. He exhaled. He couldn’t promise to protect her. He had a shitty track record there. He would die if his lack of action caused Stevie harm. His cell phone rang. Stevie? “Thorn.” “Jack,” Flynn said, “I just received Spoltori’s cell phone records for the last two years up to this morning, as well as Miss Schillner’s.” “And?” “Schillner’s was part of The Edge Fund’s phone plan. Spoltori had a record of who she called and when. He also had the GPS set up on her phone so he could track her. I’ll bet my retirement he could also track her calls as they came in and went out, on his phone. He knew she called you, Jack. Because right after she did, it shows a call from his cell to hers. A fiveminute conversation ensued. He called her again fifteen minutes before you and Cavanaugh

showed up. That call ended five minutes before you arrived. I think he was tracking her as he was talking to her and while she was on the phone, he shot her. As he was getting away, he called Cavanaugh, knowing damn well she’d see his handiwork within minutes.” “Five minutes. I should have been there.” “She was dead the minute she called you the first time, Thorn.” He shook his head, refusing to let himself off the guilt hook. “What else do you have?” “A shit ton of paperwork to sift through.” “Any word from Menlo Park?” “Not yet. They’re working on it.” “Keep me posted.” “I will. And, Thorn? Cut Cavanaugh some slack, this case has taxed her to the max.” Jack stiffened. “I don’t need you to tell me how to handle her.” “Apparently someone does, because you’re acting like a fucking asshole.” Jack hit the End button and hurled the cell across the salon. It shattered. He stood staring at the pieces. It was how he felt inside. Shattered. He didn’t know how to fix it. Feeling stifled, he dressed down in a pair of jeans, boots, and black tee shirt. He shoved his nine into a waist holster, grabbed his helmet and keys, and headed for his Harley, parked in the secured marina lot. Two hours later he stopped at the end of the canyon road leading to Stevie’s house. He owed her an explanation. He knew she was beating herself up when she had nothing to do with his failure to commit. Maybe if he told her the truth, she could move on. And maybe it would relieve the pressure of some of the shit he’d been carrying around for so long. He gave the big V twin some gas and frowned when he saw there were no patrol cars out front of her house. Spoltori was still at large and as long as he was, Stevie wasn’t safe. He pulled up beside her Mustang, killed the engine, and kicked the stand out. Hurrying, he jogged to her front door. When she didn’t answer, he got nervous. He pulled his helmet off and from the back of the house he heard the thud of bass. He walked around to the side gate and when he pushed it open and walked through, he caught his breath.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

T iki torches softly illuminated the lagoon-style pool and the woman frantically swimming laps in it. Rock and roll played in the background. Steam swirled from the spa. It had been a sweltering day in the valley. The ambient temp couldn’t be less than eighty-five degrees and it was already after nine. The urge to shuck his clothes and join Stevie was strong, but Jack didn’t move a muscle in her direction. She’d tapped out. It was their “Stop” signal from the very beginning if he got too rough with her. He would not disrespect her by ignoring it. Except… Just by being here he was disrespecting her line in the sand. But he needed to explain why he’d rejected her. Why he’d pulled away. Right. Because explaining it all to her would make him feel better about fucking with her heart? God, he was a selfish bastard. It was time he put someone else’s feelings ahead of his own. He was about to leave when, like Venus rising from the surf, Stevie stepped out of the pool. He stopped. His body tightened. Blood surged to his dick. She was naked save for the anklet she wore. Water sluiced in smooth waves down her body, which shimmered in the flickering firelight, licks of light playing hide-and-seek with her generous curves. He swallowed hard, wanting her with a need so violent it stifled his breathing. She stood at

the beach entrance, smoothing her long wet hair back from her face. Sweet Jesus, her breasts, firm and ripe, the nipples pebbled, jutted out and up in the balmy air, begging to be touched. Her concave belly glistened under the firelight. His gaze traveled lower to her soft mound and the light thatch of damp curls shielding her sweet lips. His dick thickened with a fresh infusion of blood. Desperation the likes of which he had never experienced crashed through him. It was a “Last Supper” kind of desperation. A famished, starving kind of desperation. A do or die without kind of desperation. She was everything to him. Giving, loyal, intelligent, badass, and she loved him. Ryker was right. He was an asshole. Because only an asshole would have walked out of this magnificent woman’s life. Twice. Stevie turned from him so that he had an unobstructed view of her back and Jack’s erection tightened. He wanted to trail his fingers, then his lips, along the smooth curve of her back down to the twin dimples just above her heart-shaped ass. And what a sweet ass she had. It drew taut as she bent down to pick up her towel. “No, baby, no,” he whispered. “Don’t cover yourself.” He blew a sigh of relief when she just blotted her face and body with it. As she sauntered toward a double-wide lounge chair, her hips swaying and those dimples on her ass tormenting him, he groaned and pushed down on his unruly cock. Spreading the towel down on the chaise, she sat down. The torch behind the lounger illuminated her damp skin. He swallowed hard again, finding his reaction to her impossible to control. When she picked up a bottle of lotion and began to rub some into her legs and belly he realized he was panting like a dog. But when she started to rub the lotion into her lush tits, he heard her gasp. When she laid back and arched as she stroked her hard nipples, he just about came in his pants. Like a fish out of water, he gulped for breath. He realized he couldn’t stand there forever like a Peeping Tom. Being a man of action, he made his move. When her hand slid down her taut belly to her sweet mound, and he heard his name, Jack stopped cold. Breathless, he waited as she lay rigid and still, as if her mind and body fought a colossal

battle. He could relate. His hunger for her body was insatiable. As was the hunger he felt in his heart and his mind. He hadn’t lied when he told her he owned her. In Jack’s world that meant everything. Heart, mind, body, and soul. He hadn’t truly understood the totality of that until this moment in time. Owning Stevie Cavanaugh was not for the faint of heart. It would require a strong hand that could be gentle. A pure heart that would love unconditionally. And a passionate body to challenge and cherish in bed, and out. He was that man. Air expelled from his lungs. Hell, he didn’t own Stevie, because no man could. But damned if she didn’t own him. Whatever caused her initial hesitation was set aside. His chest inflated when her fingers strummed her clit. He knew it would be hard and responsive. Slick with her juice. Her scent alluring. He doubted she was aware of how naturally sensual she was. Another thing he loved about her. She didn’t flaunt her sexuality. She didn’t have to. It was a silent siren’s call few men could resist. He’d never been immune from it. She moaned, tipping her knees a little further apart as her hand slid between her thighs. Her succulent tits poked the air, the nipples straining against those little gold rings that still caused him to shake his head in pleasant surprise. The nipple rings and her short red nails were Stevie’s only tells. Her still waters ran very deep. Transfixed, he stood and watched her shimmering silhouette undulate to the deep passionate beat of Journey’s “Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’.” When she arched, climaxing, he swore he heard her curse him to hell and back. He grinned. Oh, she was going to curse him, all right. The second Stevie heard the soft whistle of the motion detector she’d armed along the side yard, she grabbed her Sig from beneath the magazine on the end table by her chaise and turned, training it on the intruder’s chest. “Bang, bang, you’re dead, Thorn,” she said caustically, trying to hide her surprise and embarrassment. Had he seen her in the throes of her masturbating? It didn’t matter. He was the last person she expected to walk back into her life. She’d tapped out. She’d spent the last several hours trying to exhaust him out of her body and mind. The heavy bag,

the treadmill, the laps, and her self-perpetrated orgasm had tapped her body, but her heart was going to take much longer to recover. It would happen, though, because after all he had put her through since walking back into her life less than a week ago, she truly hated him now. Jack Thornton was a selfish, bullying egomaniac. She wanted nothing to do with him on any level. Halting his approach, he slowly raised his hands, acknowledging the gun pointed at him. “I come in peace.” She cocked a brow and gave him some swivel head attitude. She didn’t care how he came, she just wanted him gone. “I don’t see you bearing any peace offerings, so unless you want to be shot for trespassing, I suggest you turn around and get off my property.” “I’ll go, but before I do, I need to talk to you.” “How does it feel to need, Thorn?” “Scary.” His response surprised her. “I hope it hurts like a motherfucker. Now—” She motioned with the barrel of her gun for him to retreat. “Make sure to latch the gate on your way out.” She lay back on the lounger, making no attempt to cover her nakedness. In fact, she smiled and rolled over to her side so that he got a good long look at what he’d never have again. “I don’t hear you leaving.” “I’m not leaving until you hear me out.” “Still a bully. Still indifferent to what I want.” “And you still think you don’t need anyone?” “You’ve proven that I have bad instincts when it comes to picking someone to need.” She shrugged. “And I thank you for that, because I’m good with me. I can depend on Stevie Cavanaugh. Stevie Cavanaugh I can trust. Stevie Cavanaugh won’t lie to me or hurt me. I’m all I need.” “You need me.” “You have a lot of gall to come in here and say that to me after all you’ve done. What is it, Jack? Do you get off hurting me?” “No,” he hoarsely whispered. “But I know you, and you need me.” She didn’t need him. Sliding the nine beneath the lounger, Stevie flipped over onto her back, mentally forcing the emotion gathering in her chest to settle. Closing her eyes, she

crossed her arm over her forehead and eyes. Her nipples tightened. Even done as they were, her body still reacted to his presence. Probably would until she was laid to rest. And damn if she was going to cover herself. “Think whatever makes you happy, Jack. But think it somewhere else. I’m trying to relax here.” He took a step closer. “I need you, too, Stevie. You’re as vital to me as oxygen.” Her heart slammed against her ribcage. She must have misheard. “God help me, I need you,” he said again, stepping closer. He’d said it again. Did he truly mean it? She didn’t want it to be true, because she would let him in if it was and she could not bear another fall. When she didn’t stay him, he stopped at the side of the lounger. “Can I sit down next to you?” he asked. Without looking at him, she said, “No. Pull up a chair and don’t touch me.” If touched, she would cave and allow his words to get to her. She didn’t want that. Not again. When he had grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the edge of the lounger, he said, “Look at me, Stevie. Please.” She didn’t want to. She didn’t know what to do with this quiet, serious Jack. She didn’t trust him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a fierce stare. “You have five minutes to say what you have to say, and then I want you to leave.” He nodded, then said, “I don’t want us to be apart. I want us to try and work us out.” “You promised me you would do everything in your power not to break my heart. You broke it. Again. I’m done.” Jack dropped his head and shook his head. “Do you know why I was at the Academy and not on the street when you blew in seven years ago?” he asked, looking up at her. Steve shrugged. She’d heard rumors about his recruit being killed. She’d never asked him about it because she’d felt it wasn’t her place to. “I figured you requested it or were assigned.” “Both.” “Okay.” “Four months before you set foot in the Academy, my rookie was killed. She was killed because I wasn’t there for her. She was my responsibility; her blood is on my hands. It tore me up. So bad, I walked into my LT’s office and handed him my badge. He wouldn’t take it.

He told me to take some time off the street and he sent me to ALCO.” There was no denying the pain in his eyes as he relived it. “I promised Joan Schillner I would protect her. She’s dead.” He grabbed her hands. She didn’t pull them away. “I made a promise to you, too, Stevie. The thought of losing you is unbearable. I choked when I saw what Spoltori did to Miss Schillner. How close he came to doing the same thing to you. I took the cowardly way out. I pushed you away because I was afraid of losing you.” He brought her hand to his lips. “But I can’t live without you. I don’t want to. I never wanted to.” Swallowing hard, Stevie sat still and quiet. She was afraid to speak. Afraid she was dreaming. I can’t live without you. Never had she expected to hear those words out of Jack Thornton’s mouth. He was a one-man wrecking crew. A badass cop who struck fear in the hearts of the baddest of the bad. He didn’t need anyone. But he needed her. He couldn’t live without her. He didn’t need anyone any more than she didn’t. Her belly quivered nervously. “Say something,” he whispered. It was there in his voice, something she had never heard out of Jack: fear. “What do you want me to say?” She didn’t know what to say. She was torn. How easily he had moved her heart from soundly shut to hopeful. The devil on her shoulder told her she was a fool. She’d been bitten twice. Once should have been enough. The angel swooned, reveling in the possibilities. “That you can’t live without me. That you need me.” He moved to the edge of the lounger and pulled her to him. He lowered his lips to hers. “That you want me.” He brushed his lips across hers. “That you love me as much as I love you. That you’ll never look at another man.” He kissed her deeply, then said against her lips, “That you want to grow old with me.” “Jack,” she breathed, realizing their lives, though similar, were worlds apart. “It won’t work.” “We’ll make it work.” “What happens when you get scared again?” “I’ll turn to you to help me through it.” “What about when you get reassigned?” He stilled against her, and simply said, “If I can’t get assigned to a field office in the Bay Area, I’ll resign and go back to the Oakland PD.”

Her heart swelled painfully in her chest. “You would do that for me?” “I would do anything for you.” “I don’t think I can survive if you hurt me again, Jack.” Cupping her face between his hands, his eyes softened. “I would rather die than hurt you again.” Heat stung her eyes. Damn tears. The possibilities were boundless with a man willing to give up what he loved most for the woman he loved most. The devil on her shoulder shook his head in disgust and disappeared into the recesses of her mind while the angel smiled, hugging itself. Yes, you did the right thing, now own it. Stevie sniffed loudly, then whacked him in the chest. “If you even look like you’re going to run when it gets too hot for you, Jack Thornton, know that I will hunt you down and shoot you.” “I’d say, I’ll give you the bullets, but I’m not going to run. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart. I’m not leaving your side.” “You might regret those words.” “Highly doubtful. I knew the minute I laid eyes on the sexy, defiant sheriff’s daughter all those years ago, I was a goner.” “Did you really know I was the sheriff’s daughter?” Jack laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, yes, your dad brought every one of us teaching your academy class in as a group, then separately, and laid down the law: no special treatment and hands off.” “Daddy always was a little over the top when it came to me.” “I won’t be any different, Stevie. It’s who I am. It won’t change.” He looked carefully at her. “Can you accept that?” “Yes.” She could because she felt that way, too. “So long as you accept the same in me.” He smiled, the motion lighting up his face. “Absolutely.” Hugging her tightly to him, he said, “Thank you for not giving up on me.” “I was just giving you time to realize I’m the best thing that ever happened to you and you can’t live without me.” “One of the many things I love about you, you are wise beyond your years.” He looked down at her and traced a finger along her clavicle. “And sexy as hell.”

Moving back, he thoughtfully rubbed a large hand across the stubble of his chin. The soft sandpaper sound intrigued her as she imagined the rough feel of his cheeks between her thighs. Her body reacted, tightening, gooseflesh pimpling her damp skin. And her body’s sex barometer, her nipples, pebbled at the slightest provocation. His heavy-lidded eyes flickered. “I love that your body is so reactive to my touch, Stevie. Just thinking about me between your legs gets you flushed and sexy.” His voice had dropped several octaves as his hot gaze swept across her flushed breasts. She watched emotions flicker across his handsome features. Desire, yes. Possession as well. But something more poignant. Deeper. Need. Licking her lips, Stevie backed away. Despite her mad desire to make love with Jack, she didn’t want to steamroll into it. She wanted a little time to process the totality of what had just happened. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Would you like something to drink?” His keen eyes held hers. “You’re not pulling a Jack, are you, and running scared?” “No, I just need a little time to process all of this.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere.” Reaching for her robe, she shrugged it on and as she slipped past him, said, “Better not.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

W hen Stevie returned a few minutes later, a beer in each hand, she stopped short. Jack had disappeared. “C’mon in, Stevie,” he said, from the far end of the pool. It was then that she noticed his heap of clothing on the very spot where she had dropped her robe earlier. Jack minus his clothes meant she was going to get lucky. Soon. Just the thought of Jack touching her sent ripples of desire sluicing through her. She was seriously tempted, but wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. “I already swam,” she said as she set the bottles down on the sloping beach entrance, then sat down beside them, just far enough from the water that only the tips of her toes were submerged. With long powerful strokes, Jack swam to her. Naturally her body reacted. Her blood rushed warm and swift through her veins. As he crawled along the incline toward her, his wide chest emerged, the play of his muscles glistening in the low torchlight. His shoulders looked powerful enough to hold the weight of the world. She loved his tattoos, especially the one on his right shoulder and upper arm with the skull and wings. His long arm reached for one of the bottles, touching her toes in the process. Their eyes locked. Slowly Jack smiled. “Oops.” Feeling coy, Stevie fought back a smile and looked past the wide expanse of his shoulders

to the short waves of water lapping against the tight slope of his ass. Another of his fine assets. It was tight, muscular, and hard. She’d bet her house he was fully erect if he turned over. Holding the bottle with his right hand, Jack braced himself with his left against the plaster surface. Raising his beer, he caught and held her gaze. “Here’s to us getting it right this time, sweetheart.” Stevie grabbed her bottle and clinked it against his. “To you not running scared.” He grinned and winked. “Touché.” Tipping his head back, he took a long draught. “Ahh, that hit the spot.” He shoved his damp hair off his forehead. “This damn heat is oppressive.” She was used to hot, but he was right, the current heat wave was hellish. Thankfully, she was fully AC’ed. “It’s been breaking century-old records with no end in sight.” “At least up here you get a breeze, and with all of the surrounding cypress it takes the edge off the direct sun.” “It’s one of the reasons I bought this place. The privacy.” “I’m glad it’s private,” he said softly. Setting the bottle out of the way, Jack inched his way closer, the buoyancy of the water cradling him. Stevie started when his long fingers wrapped around her foot and tugged it. Her breath lodged in her throat. Jack’s eyes burned molten. She knew where this would lead. She wanted it so badly she had difficulty breathing. Even through the coolness of the water his body heat infused her. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you tonight, Stevie?” he asked as he pulled her foot to his lips and nibbled her toes. Shivers jettisoned through her. “N—no,” she murmured. “I’m going to devour your hot little pussy—” He bit her instep. Swallowing hard, she felt dampness gloss said pussy. “Right here under the stars.” He nibbled some more toes. “Then, we’re going to take a shower, and as I lather you up, I’m going to fuck you.” Her breath accelerated. “Then I’m going to dry you off, and lay you down in that big bed of yours, and make slow, sweet love to you.” She exhaled loudly.

“With your approval, of course.” Her gaze caught his. “Are you asking my permission, Jack?” “Yes.” Swallowing hard she nodded, but said, “You never have to ask my permission for sex. Take what you want. Hard or soft, however you want it.” He smiled and nibbled her ankle. “I like the sound of that.” He kissed the back of her calf. “The same goes for me, sweetheart. I’m a walking hard-on around you. I’m all yours, every minute of every day. Milk me dry.” His hands slid up her thighs to the very center of her. “God, your hungry little cunt is soaking wet.” Heat rushed through her at his dirty talk. Spreading her gently, he pushed himself into her as he pulled her down to him. Stevie whimpered as his tongue swept across the swollen lips of her sex. She was so sensitive. So hot for him it hurt. When she looked down to see Jack’s dark head between her thighs, she moaned. When he looked up, his lips glistening with her moisture on them, something deep and primal shifted inside of her. He resembled a powerful predator savoring his kill. Her hand slid down to his head, her fingers sinking into his thick hair. “I love the view,” she admitted. He smiled. “I love your pussy.” He sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring, and that second predatory act of his possession stirred her beyond the norm. He was hers and she his. Mated. “I like the way you smell, all spicy and hot.” He slid a finger along her aching cleft, spreading her cream. Her hips trembled as her pussy wept for him to enter. So slow and so gentle, he pushed a thick finger into her. Her muscles grasped him, pulling him deeper. “Ohhh.” Breath whooshed from her lungs. The sublimity that was Jack was beyond words. “I love how greedy your pussy is, Stevie. How it craves all parts of me inside of you.” He flicked her swollen clit with his tongue, causing her to gasp and undulate. “Outside of you.” He closed his lips around her and gently suckled her as he moved his thick finger tortuously slowly, in and out. Grasping his forearm with both hands, Stevie did a half sit-up and watched as he fingerfucked her cunt and his lips fucked her clit.

As she had imagined earlier, his whiskers brushed against the soft skin of her inner thigh, the rough sensation against her heightened senses supremely pleasing. The visual coupled with the physicality of what he was doing to her took her from hot to melting. Feverish for him, she bowed as tension coiled furiously within her. “I’m going to come, Jack,” she gasped. He slid a second finger into her and amped up the rapid-fire staccato of his tongue. A violent wave of tension ripped out of her. She screamed, her hips wildly bucking against the voracious pull of his tongue, lips, and fingers. One after another, waves of delirious pleasure crashed through her, driving her body into meltdown. And still, Jack assaulted her senses. His tongue and lips lapped her clit as slowly and diligently as a cat lapping cream, his finger slowly sliding in and out of her in long languid strokes, in perfect tune with her postorgasmic afterglow. She was completely spent, yet when he withdrew his fingers and mouth from her throbbing, twitching body, energy continued to spark. His thumbs slid along the succulent flesh of her swollen lips and parted them. When the heat of his breath caressed her, her breath hiked high in her throat. “We’ve always had a connection.” He pressed his lips to her folds. “Even if we didn’t have history, we’d be making it now.” He kissed the inside of her thigh as he slid his thumb around her clit. “There is something profoundly primal about how I feel about you. The things I want to do to you. The way I want you to submit to me, and only me.” He kissed the inside of her other thigh, then moved back bringing his knees up to plant his feet on the plaster, sitting back on his heels. His thick arousal jutted arrogantly at her. “You’re beautiful, Jack,” she whispered. His impressive cock was handsomely formed. Thick from root to head, the fleshy crown wide and abundant. A thick vein pulsed along the underside, tapering into his heavy testicles. When Jack wrapped his big hand around his thick cock, blood flooded the sensitive flesh between her legs, teasing the remnant pulses of desire. She raised her eyes to his, and their gazes locked. When his hand began a slow up and down slide, her mouth went dry. “Do you like that?” he rasped. “Yes. Very much. There’s something intensely erotic about watching your hand wrapped around your cock stroking yourself while I watch.”

“I liked watching you masturbate, too,” he admitted, a ghost of a smile hovering at the corners of his lips. His eyes darkened dangerously. “You shouldn’t have swum naked, Stevie. You shouldn’t have touched yourself. Not here. Not now. What if one of the uniforms needed something and caught you?” She smiled and lay back on her elbows. As she did, she allowed her knees to part, exposing her swollen pussy. She cocked a challenging brow. “I think he would have liked what he saw.” Jack growled, grasping his cock so tight he groaned. “I would have killed him.” “What if he wanted to watch you and me like we just were?” “Nobody’s business, what goes on between us.” Stevie smiled, happy to hear that. She had to be sure. Jack didn’t have many sexual boundaries, but this was one she was glad he did have. “I want to taste you, Jack.” Stroking himself, Jack stood then backed into the water, his eyes pulling Stevie in with him. “Follow, me, baby,” he cajoled, as he slid against the water on his back, his cock at full mast. He watched in awe as she slowly stood and let the robe slip off her shoulders to fall in a heap at her feet. Her smooth, creamy skin glowed in the firelight, her long damp hair hung thick and heavy around her shoulders, sheltering the finest tits he’d ever seen. He loved the way her curves and valleys connected. Perfect in their design. Perfectly matched to his body. Her nipples pebbled as she entered the water. He grinned and continued deeper into the pool. When his back hit the submerged ladder in the deepest section, he reached back and grabbed the railing, hoisting himself up so that his throbbing cock broke water. Stevie grinned as she swam closer to him. “You are so bad, Jack Thornton.” He chuckled as she swam between his legs, sliding her palms along the inside of his thighs. His cock saluted in welcome. “Only with you, sweetheart.” As her hands cupped his balls, his breath hitched in his throat. Her fingers slid along the bottom of the shaft before wrapping tightly around him. He groaned in satisfaction. “If I catch you looking at another woman, I’m going to geld you.” It gave his male pride a boost to know she could be as possessive as he.

Reaching out to her, he nudged her chin up with his fingers. “I only have eyes for you, baby.” She smiled, then lowered those luscious lips around the head of his cock and licked. Blood roared through his veins. When she licked the length of him, coming back up to suck his head between her lips, he groaned again. It felt damn good. He watched her talented little tongue flick and lick him, and her mouth suck him. He grabbed a hank of her hair as it fell over her shoulder onto his belly, impeding his view. “That looks so hot.” He knew he was big, and it took both of her hands and her mouth to get all of him covered. His balls were tight, his seed thickening. When she took him all of the way down to the back of her throat, he groaned in satisfaction. He’d never felt this good in a woman’s mouth. “God,” he groaned. His fingers dug into her hair as he steadied the long languid strokes of her mouth. Her tongue slid up and down with her lips, swirling around his engorged head, flicking that ultrasensitive spot just beneath. It drove him crazy. Her sexy sounds of enjoyment as if she were indulging in a special treat fueled his fire. “Baby,” he groaned. “Stop, I’m going to come.” Her fingers and mouth tightened exponentially. “Ah, fuuuck,” he cried as his hips thrust him deep into her mouth. Damn, she made him feel like Superman. His seed erupted, hot and thick, as she sucked him harder, deeper, taking everything he gave her. She brought him down softly, her mouth slacking, her tongue gently stroking him as she licked any remains of his ejaculate from him. His fingers relaxed in her hair, but he didn’t disengage. He liked feeling the movement of her head as she ministered to his cock. He liked the soft flicks of her tongue and her quiet sounds of contentment, like a kitten purring. “Stevie,” he said thickly, emotion clogging his throat. She looked up at him, her deep blue eyes full of love. “C’mere.” He pulled her body against his, pressing her cheek to his heart, and held her. It felt good. Right to be with her this way. No walls, no wondering, just being. He was scared to death he’d do something to fuck it up. The thought of losing her love was unbearable. His body shuddered as the vision of Spoltori’s victims flashed in his mind. His arms tightened.

“Ugh, Jack, I gotta breathe here,” Stevie protested. “Sorry,” he muttered. Pulling slightly away, she looked at him intently. “We’re going to get him, baby, before he strikes again. I promise.” “I’m concerned that he’s managed to stay off the radar for so long.” “He’s smart and he knows his days are numbered.” “My gut is telling me Regina Welsh isn’t his next target.” Stevie shivered. “Who do you think it is?” “You.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

G rateful Jack was holding her, Stevie shivered hard. His arms tightened. “I’ve got your back, baby. He’ll have to get through me first.” Looking up at him, she smiled at his alarm. It was good to be loved. “Before I met Rose Chambers in Maryland, I’d have disagreed with you. Spoltori is on a mission and I’m the woman who is getting in the way of that.” “I read your reports. That’s some sick shit.” She was still aghast at what she’d learned. “When I was at Rose Chamber’s house, and one of the foster kids came in and called her maman, I almost threw up.” “That’s who he was cursing when he was masturbating in front of Regina Welsh??” “Yeah. I spoke to a former foster kid of hers, a young woman who told me the aunt picked on all the kids, the boys especially, and that she had walked in on Chambers as she was forcing one to perform oral on her. The girl ran after that. It wasn’t until I told her that I was going to do everything in my power to see that the Rose Chambers was arrested that she

opened up. It was ugly, the things she told me, Jack. The aunt must have abused Mario from the time he came to her at five. Sexually, verbally, and physically. He killed his cousin as retaliation, but his subsequent victims were his acting out the fantasy of killing his aunt.” Jack smoothed back a loose tendril of hair from her cheek. “I believe he’s got you in his crosshairs because you’re a dominant female who is preventing him from carrying out his kill fantasies.” “By killing his assistant, he’s gone completely off the deep end.” Pulling back, she looked earnestly at Jack. “He’s lost touch with reality, making him desperate and more dangerous than ever. I want to call off the dogs. Let’s set him up by letting him come to me. I’ll be ready for him.” “Not on your fucking life.” Jack turned and hoisted her up the ladder and drew her against his chest. “No fucking heroics, Stevie. Promise me right now you play this one hundred percent safe.” “I’d be a liar if I said Spoltori didn’t make me nervous. He could hurt me, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. It’s a risk you’d take, too, Jack, and you know it. It’s what we do, who we are. I’m prepared. I’m a fourth-degree black belt in karate and jujitsu. I’m an expert on the range and defensive tactics, I can handle my—” “I don’t care how many fucking belts you have or how accurate your aim, he’s vicious and dangerous. You don’t leave my side for anything,” Jack shot back. She stiffened. “I beg your pardon, Special Agent, but I’m not going to be looked after like some spineless vic. I’m a cop. I catch bad guys. Don’t put your fear of me failing before that. You’ll cause me to hesitate. If I hesitate, then I’m as good as dead.” He shook her. “I love you. I would die for you, damn it! I’m not going to allow anything, including your ego, to jeopardize us.” Stevie broke out of his embrace. “I love you, too, Jack. Damn it, I do! I would take a bullet for you. But you’re not going to bully me out of fear.” Climbing completely out of the pool, she strode around it, and grabbed her robe. As she shrugged it on, she said, “I resent your remark about this being about my ego. It’s my job, Jack. You of all people should know that!” Expertly, Jack swam across the pool and walked out of the water like Poseidon. He was spectacular. Tall, muscled, tan, and endowed. That endowment was growing by the second. Shaking her head, Stevie tightened the belt on her robe and backed away. “No, Jack, you’re

not going to push me into a safe corner while you go catch the bad guy. If we’re going to do this relationship thing, we do it as equals.” “I need to know you’ll be okay.” “I will be okay so long as you don’t impede my doing my job.” Shaking his head, Jack continued toward her. “He’s a desperate, brutal killer on the run. He has nothing to lose. He will try and take everyone down with him when he goes.” “You don’t think I don’t know that?” she asked, incredulous that he was being so obtuse about this. “I saw the autopsy photos from what he did to his cousin. I was there the mornings each of my vics were discovered. I’m insulted that you one, don’t think I understand the gravity of this case and two, you question my competency to bring Spoltori in.” “I don’t question your skill set, Stevie, I’m just afraid his may be more evolved.” That stung. “I’m sorry you think so highly of him and so little of me.” She turned on her heel and said, “I’m taking a shower. I’d tell you to leave, but I know you won’t and since I don’t feel like fighting over that I suggest you get dressed and go perch yourself out front or out here to be on the lookout for the super serial killer while I hide in my closet.” Grabbing her pistol from beneath the lounger, then slamming the door as she entered her house, Stevie fumed. How dare Jack question her ability to take that scumbag down? She got that he was afraid for her. Hell, she was, too! But she was well trained. She could do this. Angrily she strode into her bedroom and stopped short. The ceiling creaked above her. Her belly fluttered, every sense on high alert. Spoltori? She shook it off. She was just spooked. It couldn’t be him; the attic was too hot and too cramped for a grown man. It was those damn raccoons. They were back. She’d set traps again, and this time, she’d drive into the next county to let them go. Hands pressed against the tile wall in the shower, Stevie let the hot spray of the water beat down her. When she felt a whoosh of cool air on her body, she set her jaw and glanced over her shoulder. Jack stood with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hard-on clearly defined beneath the beige terrycloth. “What?” she snapped, exasperated. This relationship was going to kill her! “I’m sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m afraid. When I’m afraid, I bully.” Her mood softened. How could it not? Here was big bad Jack Thornton admitting to her

that he was afraid. But she held her line. If she didn’t, she would give up territory she would have a hard time getting back. Her grandfather, who had raised champion German shepherds, had once told her that there were two kinds of dogs. Soft dogs that were easy to train and who would do anything to please their master, with little encouragement. And then there were the hard dogs. These took an extreme amount of patience, a firm hand, and love to train. But in return for that patience and love they were the most loyal, protective, and loving of companions. Jack was a hard dog. “What are you afraid of?” she asked. “The dark.” She scoffed. “Be serious.” He stepped into the shower. “I am.” He dropped the towel and slid his hands along her arms as he pushed her gently against the tile. As he lifted her hands higher above her head, he held them with one hand, and his lips dropped to the bend in her shoulder. “Because without you in it, there would be no light in my world. And that terrifies me.” “Jack,” she breathed as his lips trailed along her shoulder to her arm. His erection pressed hotly against her back. “I promise you, we’re going to grow very old together.” “I’m going to hold you to that.” He nudged her knees apart, and with his free hand, he traced the curve of her hip. “I love your body.” Brushing his lips along her arm, he murmured, “Every curve.” His hand slipped around to her belly as his fingers splayed, teasing her mons. “Every valley.” His hand traveled lower, the tip of his index finger swirled around her swollen clit. “Every hot button.” “Jack,” she gasped, pushing into his hand. “Jack, what?” “That feels really good.” “You feel really good.” Hiking her leg up at the knee from behind, he dipped his hips and pressed the thick head of his cock to her opening, sliding along her sweltering seam. When she pushed back and tried to impale herself on him, he slid his cock downward and out of her hungry pussy’s reach. “Jack, please,” she whimpered.

He slid his hand up her back to her hair and pulled it back so that her ass rubbed his cock and her heavy breasts pressed against the cool tile. “I’m a flawed man, Stevie,” he said against her neck. “I don’t know if I can change.” Despite the hold on her hair, Stevie was able to turn enough to look up at him. His gaze was serious and unwavering. Her heart swelled painfully within her chest. “I accept your flaws, Jack. I love you in spite of them. I don’t want to change you. I want equality.” He cracked a smile and asked, “Does that mean you want on top again?” “Grrr, Jack!” His smile widened when he yanked her hair for effect. “Do you forgive me for being an overprotective, chest-beating, egotistical, afraid of the dark, bully?” “That’s like asking me to forgive who you are. That I won’t do, because I love the overprotective, chest-beating, egotistical, afraid of the dark, bully.” He nudged his cock upward, sliding it along her swollen lips, teasing her with it. “I wouldn’t change one thing about you,” he said. And then whispered, “Because you’re perfect for me.” He slid into her then, hitting deep. “God, I love the feel of entering you,” he groaned. He thrust again. “So damn good.” He let go of her hands, but Stevie kept them high and pressed against the tile. She liked Jack this way. Primitive. Dominant. He grabbed her hair again, pulling her head back so that she bowed, the cords of her neck tight. He ravaged her lips as his other hand possessively gripped the curve of her hip as he pounded into her from behind. She was there, right on the edge, when he pulled out of her, causing her to scream. Tossing her over his shoulder, he turned off the shower and strode with them dripping wet to her bed where he tossed her, then followed her down, covering her with his big body.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“J ack, what are you doing?” “I’m going to make love to you.” “But we were just—” “Fucking.” He clasped her face in his hands. “And don’t get me wrong, I love fucking you, but I want to make love.” He dropped a kiss to her parted lips. “Slowly.” Entwining his fingers into hers, he languidly pushed them above her head, pressing her deeper into the duvet. With exquisite slowness, he touched her body with his fingertips, then his lips, reacquainting himself with all the places that made her sigh while inflaming the places that made her weep. Gently he nudged her knees apart and slid slowly into her. They moaned in unison, the feeling of his filling her pure sublimity. “You’re my first, Stevie. I want you to be my last.” Arching into his slow languid thrust, Stevie basked in the feel of his hard body against hers. “Your first what?” she wanted to know. Sweeping his tongue across a turgid nipple, he gently tugged the ring with his teeth, his thrust longer, deeper. Her body moved to the rhythm of his as emotion built within her.

Raising his head from her breast he looked deeply into her soul. She held nothing back. She belonged to him. As his lips lowered to hers, he said, “Everything.” She closed her eyes and let him take her to a place she had never been before. She surrendered all. And reverently, Jack took it. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm on her tender flesh. “And you’re mine, Stevie, never forget that. I’m a selfish man who never shares what belongs to him.” His lips collided with hers possessively. Stevie strained against him as their kiss deepened. Love for this man swelled painfully in her chest. He had opened his heart to her, exposing his fears, his vulnerabilities, and despite them, he let her be who she was. She loved him most for that. His fingers dug into her hair as his hips thrust, his thick, beautiful cock sliding in and out of her, the friction at critical mass. Sweat slicked their surging bodies. And then she was there, on the edge, the fierce emotions she’d been pushing away for so long erupting within her as the tension in her body snapped. She screamed his name in their kiss, her body shuddering as it was overrun with hot, intense sensation. Her legs locked around his waist as he ground his pelvis into hers, the orgasm tearing out of her in long intense waves. Tears stung her eyes when she opened them, wanting to see Jack’s face when she came. “Jack,” she cried. “I love you.” His look of wonder as he followed her orgasm with his own would be imprinted in her brain for the duration of her life. Finally, their hearts had connected on every level, culminating in this epic expression of love. She would never be the same. The Stevie Cavanaugh that came to this bed was gone; in her place was a woman confident in the love of her man, and with that, she would set the world on fire and God help anyone who tried to stop her. Entwined like a love knot, Stevie and Jack held each other as they came to terms with what had just happened. For Stevie it had been life altering. For Jack? “You okay, Special Agent?” she asked playfully. “I don’t know,” he said as he rolled over. Cupping her face, his eyes searched hers “Thank you.”

“For what?” “For giving me a third chance.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “The third time’s the charm.” “Yeah, it is.” Capturing her lips in his, Jack pushed her back into the duvet and brought her into the protective fold of his embrace. After several quiet moments, Stevie said, “Pilot.” Jack, tightened his arm around her and sleepily said, “What?” “A pilot. What I would be if I had the choice.” He leaned up on an elbow, keeping her tucked closely against him. “You have the choice, you always have.” “Not really. I like what I do.” “But it’s not what you want to do.” “I have my private license. I’m thirty hours away from a commercial one.” His eyebrows rose. “You fly?” “Yup.” Now his brows crowded together. “How did I not know this?” She shrugged. “You never asked.” “What kind of pilot would you like to be?” “A bush pilot in Alaska. Maybe own my own plane.” Jack grinned. “Wow, I never would have thought that.” “I have forty hours left for my chopper license. I like to fly those too.” He whistled, impressed. “You’re a regular aviator.” “I love it.” “You’ll have to take me up one day.” “When I get my chopper license, I want to go to Alaska, spend time up there during the summer. It’s beautiful.” He smiled broadly. “I’d love that.” He kissed her and said, “As soon as we get Spoltori, you and I are taking some time away from the grind and relaxing.” Snuggling up to him, Stevie closed her eyes and yawned. “That sounds wonderful.” As she drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard the raccoons again. “Remind me to set

traps in the morning,” she said groggily, before sleep claimed her. Jack slowly woke to the lazy call of a mockingbird outside the window, and the wan rays of sunlight fighting to inch through the drawn shutters. It was going to be another scorcher. He grinned as his dick thickened in anticipation of waking Stevie up for a morning roll before they got back to the business of hunting Spoltori down and arresting him before he killed again. Stretching, he felt the burn in his muscles. He was sore, having used muscles in the last few hours that he had never used to such extent. Because making love to Stevie once had not been enough. He’d woken her from a deep sleep and slid into her a second time. Her warm pliant body his. All his. He rolled over and snuggled against her. His dick swelled against the small of her back. Nuzzling her thick silky hair, inhaling the fresh scent of her, he thought he could stay here in her bed forever. His chest constricted with emotion that was so new to him he still had difficulty understanding it, but he knew one thing for certain— he had been a fool to let the years slip by. Stevie was special. She was his heart and soul, and he had nearly lost her because of his fear of committing to her. Simon had been right. Life with the woman you loved by your side was so much more than life without. His heart thudded against his ribcage. A life without Stevie would be no life at all. His fear of losing her to a crazed killer tore him up inside. He knew she could kick Spoltori’s ass. He needed to let her do what he’d trained her to do. To do what she did better than most agents he worked with. If Jack could pick any cop on the planet to have his back it would be her. She was that good. Caging her would only cause her to resent him. Eventually hate him. The light in her eyes would go out and he could not live with himself if he were the cause of it. As scared as he was, he needed to let Stevie do what she did best: catch bad guys. He kissed a succulent nipple and nearly devoured her when she moaned, moving hotly into his lips. But one of them needed a clear mind. Besides, he had to piss, he needed sustenance, and he needed to get dressed and get the day started so that he could whisk Stevie away and devour her morning, noon, and night. After using the bathroom, he walked naked into the kitchen in search of food. He frowned

when he opened the fridge. Beer and leftover pizza. His stomach growled. It was only ten minutes into town. He’d be back and cooking before she woke. Gathering his clothes from the backyard, he dressed and headed out front to his bike. He was glad to see two marked cars at the end of the driveway. He gave the officers a wave as he rolled by. Making the turn at the end of her street, he gave the bike some gas and rumbled down the hill. The sooner he got there, the sooner he could get back to Stevie. As he raced down the hill and approached a wide turn, he tapped his brakes. Nothing. The bike continued to pick up speed. He tapped the brakes again, this time the front as well as the back. Nothing. Fuck. His brake lines had been cut.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

S tevie stretched and yipped out in pain. Oh, lord, her girly parts were sore. She smiled. A really good kind of sore. She ran her hand along the sheet behind her, expecting to feel Jack’s warmth. The sheets were cold. Her gut tightened. “Please, not again,” she whispered, as the swarm of nervous butterflies flitted in her gut. Swallowing hard, she told herself Jack wouldn’t leave her. He’d just gotten up and was in the kitchen or on the phone with Flynn. “Jack?” she called as she padded into the empty bathroom. She peed and put on her robe. As she exited her bedroom, she knew from the silence of the house that it was empty. Jack was gone. When she did a complete perimeter check and was certain he was not working out in the garage or taking a dip in the pool, she went out front and asked the uniform in the car parked at the end of her driveway if he had seen Jack. “Yeah, he left about an hour ago.” Her stomach dropped to her knees. “Did he say where he was going?” “Nope, just waved and headed out.” “Thanks.” She refused to get angry because she refused to believe Jack would up and leave her. Not

after everything they’d shared last night. Even if he was still afraid. He would be back. As she hurried back into her house, she locked the door and started for the kitchen to make coffee. As she filled the pot, the hair on the back of her neck spiked. The distinct musk of a man’s sweaty body wafted under her nose. It was not Jack’s scent. Her gun was in her bedroom, but—as she continued to fill the pot, she silently opened the drawer to her left and pulled out a sturdy steak knife then slipped it into her robe pocket. As she poured the water into the coffeemaker, the scent grew stronger. She was being watched. “They always love you, then leave you,” the deep familiar voice crooned. “Makes you just want to kill them, doesn’t it?” Slowly, Stevie turned and came face-to-face with a disheveled Mario Spoltori. “What did you do to Jack?” Spoltori shrugged his shoulders, but the glint in his black eyes belied his casual gesture. “What did you do to Jack?” she demanded, taking a step closer. He smiled the smile of the grim reaper. “I cut the brake lines on his motorcycle while he was fucking you. I doubt he survived the drive down the hill.” Jack! Please, God, I promise anything, just make him not dead! Her body shuddered as ice rushed through her veins. Focus on defusing Spoltori, Stevie. Only then can you go to Jack. “I’m going to kill you for that,” she promised, stepping toward him. Narrowing her focus on Spoltori, she set about bringing him down. One way she knew to rattle a master’s cage was to turn it upside down on him. “After I make you pay for killing your cousin, Joan Schillner, and the three ladies you wrapped up in plastic and left on the corner like bags of trash.” As the last words trailed from her lips, Stevie rushed him. But he reacted quickly, training her own gun on her. She halted mid-step. Rage infused her. She had left her weapon on her nightstand when she came in last night. Had he been in her house all this time? It didn’t matter, because he was not walking out of her house alive. She was going to end it all here and now, one way or another. “Please, Detective, don’t deny me the pleasure of torturing you.” “I’m not a submissive twit,” she sneered, not backing down. “You’ll go down with me.”

Spoltori smiled evilly. “Oh, I think you may enjoy what I have planned for you. Especially after what I witnessed these past few hours.” His grin widened. “I must give you props in the man choice department. Your special agent is special in all the right areas.” Her jaw dropped, and her fury mounted. “You watched us?” He waved the gun at the hallway. “It’s no more than what the two of you have been doing to me. How does it feel to know your every private moment is being not only witnessed by strangers but captured on video?” He laughed as he patted his pocket. “Oh, yes, I have video of you sucking that Fed’s luscious cock and him going down on you.” It took a monumental effort to put aside her embarrassment and disgust at what this man reduced her and Jack’s intimate moments to. This was her chance to get the truth out of him. So long as he felt he had the upper hand, a narcissistic prick like Spoltori would be more than happy to tell her how awesome he was at killing. “How did you know you were being surveilled?” “Just like you and your lover boy exchange information, pillow talk.” “Pillow talk?” No one except her team knew he was being watched. He laughed at her confused expression. “You’d be surprised who I sleep with and how forthcoming they are when a blow job is at stake.” “That was you in the truck the other night?” “Oh, I wanted so badly to play with you some more. I even came by, but your special agent was here. He has put a serious cramp in my style.” Stevie forced her rising hysteria down. Not for fear of Spoltori but fear of Jack dying or dead on the side of the road. She needed to keep Spoltori talking as she set him up to fall. Then she could get all units out looking for Jack. “How did you know where I live?” “Like I said, it’s all in the pillow talk.” A chill passed through her. He was sleeping with someone at the PD. “How did you get into my house?” “Oh, c’mon now, those uniforms are idiots. They spend half their time with their heads down texting. I took up residence the night you packed for Maryland. Practically walked up the driveway last night right after I offed my talkative assistant. “You killed your cousin, too, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. It was glorious. I couldn’t stop after that.” “And the three ladies with the mark of Cain?” He grinned and nodded. “Nice touch, wasn’t it?” “Yeah, if you’re into that sort of thing.” He moved steadily toward her. “I most definitely am.” “What are you going to do with the video?” “Oh, I’m going to humiliate you and your special agent posthumously by putting it up on Youtube. I think everyone will get a kick out of it, don’t you?” God, please, let Jack be alive. “You’re a sick fuck, Spoltori. But I’m sicker, because after I cut your balls off and shove them down your throat, I’m going to take pictures of you and share them on every BDSM group, chat room, and forum I can, so that everyone can see what a pussy you really are.” Anger flashed in his dark eyes. “My cock is going to tear your sneaky little cunt apart.” He waved the gun at her. “Your bedroom now, you little bitch. You’re going to scream like you’ve never screamed before.” Her body was a ball of nervous energy. She wanted to go after Jack. Every part of her wanted to rush the sick bastard standing in front of her, but her training insisted on patience. Please, Jack, be alive. Unable to stall Spoltori further, Stevie moved past him and slowly walked down the hall. When he got close enough to touch, she’d make her move. But he kept a safe distance. For all his delusions of grandeur, he recognized a formidable foe when he met one. When she turned the corner, in that one split second she was out of sight, she pivoted, cocked her arm back, and took her best shot at surviving. Spoltori’s face met her fist, as she roundhouse kicked him in the kneecap of his bad leg. He screamed in furious pain. She karate-chopped the hand holding the gun and it went clattering to the hardwood floor, skittering down the hall. Not wasting one precious nanosecond, Stevie lunged for it. So did Spoltori.

Jack pushed the damaged bike off his leg. He’d downshifted until he reduced his speed as much as he could, then he drove her over the soft shoulder of the road and into the field bordering it, and laid the bike down on his terms. He was alive, bruised, and pissed. He didn’t have his phone and he had no way of contacting Stevie or his team. He crawled out from the field and began the ascent up the hill. If Spoltori had gotten to his bike with the two units out front, that meant he could get to Stevie inside. His heart pounded. Adrenaline infused, he pushed past the pain, and started up the hill at a dead run. Nearly an hour later, he trudged down her street to see the two uniforms still parked where they had been when he left. “Did you see anyone come in or out?” he asked the first one. “Yeah, Detective Cavanaugh came out and talked to Silas. Asked if we’d seen you.” “Give me your cell,” Jack demanded. The good officer handed it over. As he dialed Flynn’s number, Jack limped to the other uniform. “When did you speak to Detective Cavanaugh?” “About an hour ago.” “How did she look? Nervous?” “Um, well, she was in a robe asking where you were, and when I said I didn’t know she went back inside. Haven’t heard a peep since.” “I think Spoltori’s inside, I have a call in to my team, they’re coming in quiet. I want you out back and the other guy to stay out here. Eyes and ears wide open. I need your weapon.” Silas handed it over. Stealthy as a shadow, Jack tried the front door only to find it locked. He crept around the side and made sure he didn’t trip the motion sensor as he had last night. As he slipped into the quiet house, every instinct told him evil lurked within. He vehemently prayed to God that Stevie was still alive. He moved into the family room and grabbed his piece from the sofa where he had dropped it last night and slid it down the small of his back. In his right hand, he held Silas’s nine mil. “You pigs think you’re smarter than everyone else,” a deep male voice sneered. Jack’s adrenaline spiked. Spoltori. If he was talking that meant he had an audience, which could only mean that thank you, sweet Jesus, Stevie was alive. He forced the emotions his relief elicited aside. He had a job to do before he could rejoice.

Like the predator he was, Jack moved silently down the hall, stopping just outside of Stevie’s bedroom. “Why did you kill the wives of Mayor Dyer’s biggest campaign contributors? What did they ever do to you other than look like maman?” From the trajectory of her voice, Jack knew Stevie was either near or on the bed. Spoltori laughed sharply, the sound vicious. “Those women had two strikes, the first being they had the misfortune of being married to very unfaithful husbands. Secondly, they bore a resemblance to the woman who stole my childhood from me.” Spoltori was closer to Jack, near the bathroom door. Was he armed? Was Stevie restrained? Incrementally, Jack moved closer. “So what? Their husbands were cheaters. You’re a misogynist, what do you care?” “Don’t classify me, you ignorant bitch,” he snarled. “You don’t know shit.” Jack held his breath, ready to rush in if he had to. Not his style, but if it was the last resort… “Is this where I get out my little violin and play a sorry tune for you, Mario?” Stevie taunted. Jesus, Stevie, tread carefully. “Shut up.” “You call yourself a Master. The Edge. Whoo, whoo, so scary. What you really are is pathetic.” “I said shut the fuck up!” His voice quaked with rage. Jack’s blood boiled. He was going to tear that prick apart when he got his hands on him. He moved to the edge of the doorjamb. He knew what Stevie was doing, and it was working, but not knowing how Spoltori had the physical upper hand over Stevie didn’t sit well with him. “You shut the fuck up, asshole. And while you’re shutting the fuck up, go fuck yourself.” Jack, blanched. Tone it down, sweetheart. “I know what you’re trying to do, “Spoltori said. “You’re trying to rattle me, make me second-guess myself.” “There’s nothing to second-guess, Spoltori. You’re busted, by a big bad dominant woman.” “You think you’re so smart? Tell me why I killed those women.”

“Because you see your aunt in each of them. Because you don’t have the balls to kill your aunt, so you pick easy targets. And your asshole is going to be an easy target in Quentin. Those boys are going to love making you their bitch.” Despite Stevie’s bravado, Jack heard the hitch of tension in her voice. She was running out of time, and options. Spoltori laughed. “You have the first part right, I killed them imagining it was my aunt. But I haven’t killed her not because I don’t have the balls, I haven’t killed her because it’s more painful for her to live knowing what I did to her precious daughter and to live with the fear that one day I’ll show up and do the same thing to her.” Jack heard something heavy being dragged across the hardwood. The recliner?? “But that is only part of the reason those particular women were killed. You see, Detective Cavanaugh, you missed a very significant clue. You didn’t look at their husbands. Had you dug a little you would know that their wives were beards. That it wasn’t their wives they were unfaithful to, it was me they were unfaithful to! By taking out their stupid little bitch wives, I taught them the value of keeping their dicks in their pants.” Jack moved in as close to the edge of the doorway as possible without being seen from within. “They were mine, Detective. Mine. They promised to be faithful and love only me. But when I had a little soiree in my dungeon and introduced them to each other, they met behind my back.” He laughed caustically. “But I found out. I always find out.” “So like you did to your aunt, you killed their loved ones and terrorized them?” “It’s great sport, Detective!” He laughed again. “Now, tell me, oh wise one, who do you think was my next unfaithful hussy?” “Regina Welsh.” “Oh no, no, the senator is as straight as you are, though I’d love to break him in. I have a penchant for elder statesmen types. With that in mind, think a little bit closer to home.” “Mayor Dyer,” Stevie said, sounding distraught. The disappointment clear. “Ding, ding, ding, you win the boobie prize! He was the worst offender of all!” “You would have killed his wife because he was screwing other women?” “He belonged to me! We were a team. I was going to make him so much money he could just walk in and buy the governorship, then we were on to the White House. He fucked it up.

He fucked all of it up because he liked chasing pussy.” The scuff of Spoltori’s feet edged closer to the bed. Chances were the killer’s back was to the door. Jack needed a peek. “Now, Detective, I want you to take that robe off, and show me those spectacular tits of yours.” “Fuck you.” “I’m going to do that, too.” Jack took a step forward and a loose plank beneath his boot creaked. Spoltori whirled around, and just as Jack caught Stevie’s relieved stare, Spoltori fired. In a split-second decision, Jack didn’t return fire because Stevie was directly behind the killer and he would not risk the bullet going through Spoltori into her. Heat seared Jack’s chest. His eyes caught Stevie’s stunned ones, as the pain in his shoulder expanded. “Jack!” Stevie screamed. She charged Spoltori. As the killer turned to fire on her, Stevie sank the knife in her hand deep into his chest. Spoltori stopped in mid-action, his eyes widened in shock, and his gun clattered to the floor as his hands reached up to the wooden handle protruding from him. He dropped to his knees. Jack moved into the room, his guns aimed at Spoltori’s head. Stevie rushed to Jack’s side. He slid one gun in his waistband then grabbed her, pulling her into the fold of his body. Taking instant inventory of her physical well-being, Jack ascertained she was unharmed. He looked down at Spoltori, who stared up at him with shock. “The bitch,” he said, blood gurgling from the lips. “Stabbed me.” Jack grimaced as he kicked the gun away from him. “Consider it a gift, because I would have torn you to pieces one inch at a time.” Spoltori coughed, blood spattering on Jack’s jeans, then fell forward onto his face, driving the blade deeper into his chest. Stevie knelt down and felt for a pulse. She looked up at Jack and shook her head just as the two uniforms swarmed in, followed by several others. “Call the ME,” Jack said, “and start Fire.” Ignoring the chaos behind them, Jack stiffly set the gun in his hand down on the desk near

the door, then reached down with his good arm and hauled Stevie against him. “Fucker deserved to suffer more.” “Jack, you’re bleeding,” Stevie said urgently, steering him to her bed, where she forced him to sit. “It’s nothing,” he assured her, though it burned like a bitch. “It’s something to me,” she said worriedly as she tore his shirt down the middle of his chest. The wound was bleeding steadily enough not to look like it was ‘nothing’ but in the grand scheme of things; it wasn’t much more than a glorified flesh wound. He’d suffered a lot worse in Iraq. Yanking a pillow case off the nearest pillow, Stevie quickly ripped it into strips then expertly bound his wound stemming the blood flow. As she deftly worked she said, “My God, when Spoltori told me he cut your brake lines, Jack, I about died. I was so worried and then you come in here and get yourself shot!” Jack looked up at her watery eyes. Damn he loved this woman. “Two more inches, Jack, and you’d be on the floor next to Spoltori.” He slid his right arm around her waist and pulled her down to sit beside him. “Yeah, but I’m not.” His lips collided with hers in a deep, desperate kiss, as if he needed to know that she was really alive. He pulled slightly away and searched her face. “You scared the shit out of me, the way you were talking to him. Did he touch you?” “No,” she said breathlessly. Jack exhaled loudly. “You handled that beautifully, Stevie. My apologies for ever doubting your skill.” He smiled. “You can have my back any time.” Her stormy eyes narrowed. He braced himself. “Why did you leave?” He shrugged, then winced, thinking better of it. “I was hungry. I thought I’d fix us some breakfast, but all you have in the kitchen is old pizza and beer, so I headed down the road to pick up a few things. Bastard cut my brake lines. I crashed, messed up my leg some. It took me an hour to climb that damn hill.” “Why didn’t you call?” “I was pissed last night after you left my place and threw my phone across the cabin. Wasn’t much use after that.”

Stevie laughed. “Oh, Jack, you’re really going to have to learn to control that temper of yours, it’s going to get you into trouble.” Ignoring the escalation of activity in the room, Jack smiled and kissed her. When he pulled back, he saw the love he felt for this incredible woman reflected in her eyes. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. “Right now?” “After we officially close this case.” “I don’t know.” “How about Alaska? I hear the summers are beautiful, especially when you’re being flown around by the hottest pilot on the planet.” Gingery looping her arms around his neck, Stevie smiled. “I think I’d like that very much, Special Agent Thornton. And thank you for asking.” “Thank you for giving me a third chance, Detective Cavanaugh.” “How could I not? I live to be bad and you’re the baddest man in the whole damn town.” He grinned and lowered his lips to hers. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

Three months later, one thousand feet over Twin Lakes, Alaska Stevie hadn’t stopped grinning since they’d taken off from a small airfield in Anchorage a few hours back. She had never felt as free as when she flew. In the weeks before the trip, she’d taken as many lessons as she could cram in, to get her solo license and acquire the extra skills she was going to need. She’d taken to water takeoffs and landings like a duck to water, impressing her instructor. But what impressed Stevie was Jack going up and coming down with her each time. His confidence in her piloting skills infused her with the need to succeed. Not for her father, not even for Jack, but for herself. Having finally put the Spoltori case to bed at the end of the

previous month, they’d arrived in Alaska two weeks ago and from the moment they touched down in the nation’s last frontier, Stevie felt as if she were home. Now, as they glided above the scenic lake, the feeling intensified, and as she sat thigh to thigh with Jack in the little seaplane, she realized that she had never felt so complete. “It’s magnificent,” Jack said in his mic. “I’ve never seen anything so breathtaking,” Stevie replied, awed. Deep blue water surrounded by thick colorful shoreline spread out invitingly below them. Jack’s warm breath caressed her cheek. “I have,” he said, and moving the mouthpiece to his mic aside, he kissed her neck. Her smile widened as warmth flushed through her. “Look,” she said, pointing dead ahead. A long wooden dock inserted itself fifty yards into the calm blue water, jutting out from a rocky shore. At the end of a slight rise, nestled into the verdant forest, was a two-story log cabin. Home for the next month. As Stevie brought the small plane in for a perfect water landing, and the props slowed, Jack’s cell phone chirped. “It’s Flynn,” he said, and answered. “How’re my two favorite deserters?” Flynn joked. “If you saw the view, Flynn, you’d do the same thing,” Jack said, winking at Stevie. “If you’re talking about your partner, then I agree.” Stevie laughed when Jack frowned. “What’s up, Flynn?” she asked. He wasn’t calling to say hello. “I wanted to let you know, Rose Chambers was arrested this morning on more than fifty counts of statutory rape, assault, child endangerment and a whole slew of other charges. She’s going away for a long time.” “She deserves a hell of a lot more than a cell and three squares a day,” Stevie sneered. “Agreed. Jerome Sills was released last week. It’s a damn shame he spent one day in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.” “At least that wrong was righted,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Mayor Dyer withdrew from the gubernatorial race,” Flynn added. Jack clasped her hand as pain fisted in Stevie’s belly. Her godfather wasn’t the man she had thought he was, and it saddened her. In some ways, she felt like she had lost her father all over again. “It’s for the best,” she said quietly.

“Hey, I heard some interesting news from Simon the other day.” Stevie could have sworn she heard him grinning and her heart lifted. She and Doc had become good friends since Spoltori’s demise. Stevie discovered she enjoyed having a girlfriend almost as much as she liked having a boyfriend. “Out with it!” Stevie demanded. “You’re going to be an aunt and we’re going to be uncles!” Stevie’s jaw dropped as she looked at a stunned Jack. He shook his head. “Holy fuck, Simon’s going to be a dad.” “I hope it’s a girl!” Flynn chortled. “Talk about payback.” Jack grinned. “No shit.” Stevie grinned. This was wonderful news. “Please send them our love and congratulations.” “Will do.” Several moments later they docked, and as Stevie cut the engine, Jack leaned over to her and said, “I can’t wait to get you naked on the bearskin rug.” As it often did in his presence, heat washed through her. “I can’t either.” Two hours later, once they had unloaded their provisions from the plane, they lay naked on the thick rug before a roaring fire in the great room. Jack kissed a tight nipple, tugging the ring with his teeth. Stevie moaned, arching against him. Rising above her, Jack’s deep green eyes searched hers. Emotion swelled tightly in her chest. She loved this man with all her heart. She would die for him. Dark hair fell over his forehead, softening the rugged handsomeness of his face. He bit her bottom lip and swept her parted lips with slow, hot regard before locking gazes with her. “I want you to go off your pills.” Her heart slammed against her rib cage. “Why?” “Because I want to make a baby with you.” “Why?” she asked hoarsely. “Because I love you. Because you’re the only woman I want to have my baby.” Hot tears stung her eyes. “But only if you want to have a baby with me,” he added softly, as he lowered his lips to hers.

“I do, Jack, but—” In a long slow slide, reverently, he filled her. “Oh, God, that feels so good,” she sighed. There was nothing so decadent as Jack’s thick heat filling her to capacity. “But what?” he asked, rocking deeply into her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she gasped. His lips traced along hers. “You mean the traditional ‘would you marry me’ part?” “Uh, hmm.” “That’s a given.” She smiled against his lips. “I’m not a foregone conclusion, Jack Thornton.” “Yes, you are, but so am I.” He thrust into her again, then slowly withdrew. “Say you will.’” Wrapping her arms around his neck, Stevie pulled him tightly against her body and whispered against his lips, “I will.”

The Dare



A s the door closed behind the trio, Katy trembled with excitement. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Going where she had never gone before. Not even in her wildest fantasies: To bed with two men. One, her lover, Evan; the other a stranger. Her eyes traveled shyly but appreciatively down the newcomer’s tall athletic body. If she actually went through with this, he wouldn’t be a stranger for long. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. She could do this. She wanted to do this. “Hey,” Evan whispered against her ear, “I’m here, too, don’t forget that.” Encouraged by his presence, and his reminder that he had a jealous bone after all, Katy smiled and turned slightly to her left. Gazing into his suddenly concerned eyes, she slid her hand down Evan’s hard belly to his even harder groin and squeezed. Her touch elicited a sharp hiss of breath from him. “This rodeo was your idea, cowboy, now suck it up and make the most of it.” Evan’s eyes widened at her chastising words. She was always a passenger when it came to sex, but this time—she nipped his bottom lip and turned slyly to her new friend, who stood watching their exchange with something akin to amusement. Now she was the driver. If she didn’t chicken out. Admittedly, she would have balked if the stars had not been aligned as they were when Evan challenged her. There they’d been, at the hotel bar downstairs, when the handsome stranger she’d met earlier that day walked in. He’d caught and held her gaze, and Katy’s body had warmed in

response. Of course, Evan had noticed the way she squirmed in her chair, and had later casually commented that the man had not taken his eyes off her all night. She’d noticed too. She’d smiled inwardly but didn’t tell him they had already met, quite by accident. Literally by accident. She’d stepped out of the elevator with her arms full of notebooks for her seminar and had plowed right into Mr. Smokin’ Hot. When they’d both bent down to pick up the binders, they bumped heads. Rubbing her forehead, she’d looked up into two very intense green eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m such a klutz,” she’d stuttered. “A very pretty one,” he said. Her reaction to the heat in his eyes and warmth in his voice was instant. She blushed, pushed her glasses back into place, and proceeded to drop the remainder of the binders onto his large booted feet. “Here,” he softly exasperated, taking her elbow and guiding her to a standing position. “You stand, and let me pick them up so we’ll both be out of harm’s way.” She watched him, covertly from beneath her lashes, trying not to feel guilty about how much she admired his moves. He looked like a man’s man. A big, rough and tumble kind of guy who’d like the outdoors. He even smelled like it. Fresh and woodsy. The total opposite of her quiet, intellectual lover, who despite lacking this man’s animal magnetism, had his own brand of charm. As the handsome stranger stacked the binders in her arms, her eyes dropped to his capable hands and instantly conjured the vision of them on her breasts. When she raised her gaze to his face, he was smiling. A wolfish knowing smile. Heat rose in her cheeks, spreading to her nipples and lower. Katy was no shrinking violet, but this man made her extremely aware of her female parts being in close proximity to his very male parts. When the binders were all stacked, he cocked a brow and asked, “Are you staying at the hotel?” “Yes,” she’d admitted too quickly. “Me too.” She swallowed. “That’s nice.” “Not really. But what would make it nice is if you would let me buy you a drink later tonight.” She’d swallowed hard again. “I can’t, I’m with someone.” His full lips tightened and he nodded. “Lucky man, your someone.” He tipped the brim of

an imaginary hat and walked away.

Since that meeting, she’d seemed to bump into him at every turn, including when she and Evan had gone down to grab a drink before dinner. Green Eyes sat across the bar with a bunch of drinking, carousing guys. Who, according to the cocktail waitress, were cops in for some kind of task-force meetings. Although he wasn’t partying with the others, he was drinking, and with each drink, he’d raised it to her in silent salute. “It’s my turn, Katy,” Evan had said pulling her attention back to him. “And I pick dare.” Excitement shivered down her spine. “Okay,” she said, slowly exhaling. “I’m feeling rather daring at the moment.” He grinned and nodded toward the group of cops. “I dare you to pick one of those cops and take him upstairs.” She went from feeling excited to feeling a little sick to her stomach. Not that sex with one of the hunky cops was sickening, but because Evan had suggested she have sex with another man. Her face must have reflected her dismay because Evan said, “C’mon, Katy, don’t tell me you’re not turned on by the one that keeps staring at you. I should go punch his lights out for his audacity.” “Then why don’t you?” He chuckled. “I’m a lover, baby, not a fighter. Besides, if I did, it would be kind of hard to invite him upstairs, wouldn’t it?” Not a fighter for her anyway. How could he dare her to take another man to bed? Weren’t they a couple? A secret one because of the no-fraternizing rule at work, but if he cared about her at all, how could he be okay with her having sex with another man? Her pride kicked in. Fine, if she didn’t mean enough to him to remain monogamous, then this little dare would be on her terms. She glanced over at the group of cops. Yeah, she admitted, and only to herself, that despite her hurt, she was intrigued. They were all good-looking men. Cocky as all hell, and most

women would be happy to indulge in one or all of them—but there was only one she would consider. But, was Evan bluffing? Playing a game; a test to find out how much he meant to her by putting her in this position? “Are you serious?” she asked, sure he was kidding. “As a heart attack,” he said with conviction. He wasn’t bluffing. Her belly did a slow roll as she stared at him, waiting for him to take it back—but he didn’t. Raising her chin she made her decision. Pride was the devil’s child, so to hide her hurt, she nonchalantly threw back at him, “Only one? Why not two?” Go big or go home, right? Please God don’t let him say two! She couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t. The verdict was still out on picking just one. She knew she was uptight. Inhibited, Evan had said. She needed to loosen up. Evan’s lips twitched into an arrogant little smirk that she loved. It was playful and loaded with promise. He leaned forward and kissed her neck just behind her ear. The touch elicited a small tremor that instantly infused her already sensitive nipples, then shot straight to her groin. He knew that was her weak spot and used it to his advantage. “Count me in as the second one,” he whispered.

Chapter One



G od help her, but despite her hurt feelings and her self-induced inhibitions, the image of Evan and Green Eyes fucking her into oblivion excited her. And that damn pride of hers took Evan’s dare to the next step. She chugged her glass of wine and gave herself a mental pep talk. You are sexy, you are sexy, you are sexy. Go have the fuck of your life. You are sexy. You are fucking crazy! “You’ve been reading my mind.” She stood, focused on the green-eyed fiend, and made her way over to cut her next fuck out of the very fuckable herd. Green Eyes watched her approach with an appreciative smile. It took every bit of guts she had to saunter with confidence across that bar, knowing Evan’s eyes were on her ass, and every other man’s on her tits. Well, almost all of them. Those green eyes were locked on her mouth. She stumbled at the edge of the bar where the carpet ended and the hardwood floor began. She caught the back of a barstool before she took a header into the bar top. His strong warm hands righted her. “Are you falling for me already?” he teased. Barely able to breathe, Katy rubbed her nervous hands down the front of her black skirt. “Y-es, as a matter of fact I am.” He looked past her to Evan, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Is that the ‘I’m-with-someone,’ someone?” “Yes, and he and I, well—” Her nipples tightened as his gaze returned to her lips. He smelled really good. And he was hot, not hot as in good-looking hot, even though he was; he was hot body temperature. Heat radiated from him. “We’re going upstairs to party, and

wanted to know if you’d like to join us.” She rushed the words so quickly even she didn’t understand what she’d just said. His full lips tightened. But he understood perfectly. “Ditch that dude and we’ll have our own party.” She glanced over her shoulder to Evan, who was watching with interest, and turned back to Green Eyes. “He’s my boyfriend. That would be cheating on him.” “He’d deserve it for putting you up to this.” “He—he didn’t,” she stammered. “It was my idea.” Straightening, she was almost eye to eye with him and she was wearing five-inch Christian Louboutins. “Now, are you in or out?” Dear Lord where did that demanding woman come from? She didn’t go there with herself because if she did, she’d talk herself right out of this. So she blamed the wine that she’d thank in the morning. He leaned toward her and whispered against her ear, “I’m in and out, fast and furious, down and deep.” “Oh my,” she breathed, pressing her hand to her thumping heart. When she didn’t move, he took her by the hand and strode with her stumbling behind him toward Evan.

Shocked he’d accepted, now here they were, in her hotel room, the two men on either side of her. Evan and the green-eyed stranger. She still couldn’t believe the stranger was here. That he’d accepted her invitation to join her and Evan. Well, initially Evan’s invitation. But seriously, for an introverted girl like her, loaded with hang-ups, to land a hunk like this? Well, it was a-once-in-a-lifetime deal and she was going to do everything in her power not to scare him away. Fortified with wine-induced courage, Katy cocked a smile and sauntered across the room to him. She’d drunk four glasses, two right before they’d come up to the room, and the alcohol had given her the courage to follow through with Evan’s teasing suggestion that had

become a dare. She’d never turned down a dare when they played Truth or Dare, she wasn’t about to begin tonight. “There are a few boundaries,” Evan started, a discernible edge to his voice. Was he rethinking his dare? Katy refused to give him an out. Not now. She’d come this far, she was going all the way. He directed his next words to Green Eyes. “No kissing. No fluid exchange and you wear a condom.” The stranger’s bright eyes glittered in the dim light of the room. Anger brewed at being given rules by a man he obviously didn’t respect, but he turned those lethal eyes on Katy. Her skin flushed warm at their intensity. Yeah, he was irritated that Evan was calling the shots, but that irritation was overrun by the prospect of fucking her. “If you touch my dick,” Green Eyes said to Evan in a threatening tone, “even by accident, I’m going to kick your ass.” Katy giggled and looked over her shoulder at Evan, the man she had spent more time with on her back than upright. He winked at her and the anxiety she’d been holding on to slid from her. She turned back to Green Eyes and softly, but firmly said, “Please don’t hurt me.” He looked indignant at even the thought, which immediately set her fears aside. Before he could respond, Evan moved up behind her possessively. “Hurt her, and you won’t walk out of this room.” Ah, there was Evan acting as a boyfriend should. But she doubted he could kick this cowboy’s ass. Despite Evan’s warning, Katy swallowed hard, glancing quickly up at the hunk who smirked at Evan and replied, “The only hurting I’ll give her will be for more.” Katy gasped. She didn’t dare turn to look at Evan. His silence screamed his unhappiness. But—she swallowed hard and looked up into the stranger’s gleaming eyes now completely focused on her—damn if she wasn’t excited to see this through. “Take off your pants; I want to see if you’re going to be worth the storm that’s brewing behind me.” Evan was going to regret this, because she knew she was not. And that was going to be a problem. Without breaking gazes, Green Eyes unbuttoned his tailored trousers and shoved them down his hewn thighs. Katy’s curious gaze dropped, the impressive sight giving her cause for pause. He was big and beautiful and growing by the minute. Her breasts tingled with excitement. “You’re beautiful,” she breathed. “Now please take off your shirt.” “Take yours off first,” he commanded.

Green Eyes’ demand pushed her arousal into high gear. “Aren’t you the cocky one?” she boldly said, caressing his tall muscular length with a long slow gaze. Evan pulled her back against his chest, sliding his hands down her waist then up and beneath her bra and form-fitting sweater. As his hands cupped her sensitive breasts, she moaned, never once drawing her hooded-gaze from the stranger’s blazing stare. “I’ll do the honors,” Evan breathed against her ear. Before his hands drew the sweater up, his fingers tugged and rolled her sensitive nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. His lips brushed against the nape of her neck, eliciting a rash of goose bumps. “She has great tits,” he quietly said to the other man. He squeezed them and Katy’s knees wavered. “Big, firm, succulent. The kind of tits a man dreams about.” He lowered his hands, much to Katy’s disappointment. Then slowly he drew the sweater up and over her shoulders. He dropped the fabric to the floor and Katy’s eyes widened as Green Eyes’ cock thickened. Slipping his fingers beneath her bra straps, Evan lowered one, then the other just to the tip of her breasts, barely covering her nipples. He slid his hands across the high swells and squeezed as his lips grazed her neck again. “Don’t forget who you belong to, Katy,” he whispered for her ears alone. His possessive words were more of an aphrodisiac than any pill. She arched, digging her bottom into his burgeoning cock. His hands tightened on her at the contact. He slid the bra lower, unclasping it. Then, cupping her breasts, he held them up in offering to the stranger, who stepped forward. The intensity of Green Eyes’ gaze electrified her. He smiled a half smile, reached up to her face, gently slid her glasses from her, and tossed them to a nearby chair. Then he reached behind her head, nudging Evan away and unclasped the hair clip holding her mass of dark chestnut curls in place. The heavy wave of hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. He dug his long fingers through it, smoothing it up and off her shoulders so that her bare breasts were not hidden from his white-hot gaze. A shiver ran along her spine scattering a new rash of goose bumps along her skin. His lips broke into a fully satisfied smile at her reaction to his touch. “That’s better,” he huskily said, then dropped to his knees, sliding his fingertips across her sensitive nipples. She hissed in a breath, afraid to let the moan building in her throat to slip out. When his

hungry mouth latched on to a hard nipple, it escaped. “Oh—” Katy gasped. His big hands slid down her waist to her hips then around her back to her ass where he squeezed her cheeks. She wanted to dig her fingers into his thick dark hair in the worst way, but felt that as crazy as it seemed, considering what he was doing to her, it was presumptuous on her part to think he would enjoy her touch as much as she was enjoying his. Finding the skirt button at the top of the zipper, he deftly separated it from the button hole, then pressing one hand against the waistband, he slowly drug the zipper tab down the crack of her ass, the low buzz sound surreally erotic. Bunching the fabric in his fists, he pulled the fabric from her hips, and down her thighs. Katy’s knees shook as he traced his lips down her flat belly to her belly button. His strong, rough hands were a sharp contrast to the softness of his lips. When those lips came to rest above her thong panties, he nipped at her hot mound, blowing on her. Katy made a little squeaking sound of surprise and pleasure.

Chapter Two



E van’s short shallow breaths against her neck signaled his excitement. He stood a good head taller than her and she knew he watched the hunk on his knees before her. When Green Eyes pulled down her panties and the small soft thatch of hair that shielded her pussy glistened from her juices, she felt Evan’s cock jerk against her back. “Your pussy is so sweet and succulent, Katy,” he whispered against her ear. “How does it feel to have another man’s tongue buried inside you while I watch?’ Opening her mouth to answer, the words hitched in her breath as Green Eyes parted her swollen lips with the tip of his tongue. “Oh—” she gasped unable to articulate into words how she felt. Swallowing hard, she looked down, and as if she were a voyeur she watched this stranger’s tongue slip between her swollen folds, only to come up and wrap around her sensitive clit. This time she didn’t hesitate to dig her fingers into his thick hair. It was soft, silky even, not what she expected from such a he-man. Feeling like the ultimate bad girl, naked save for her five-inch heels, as one of the hottest guys on the planet licked her pussy like he was savoring a melting ice cream cone, Katy was closer to an orgasm than she had ever been in her life. “I knew a secret wanton lurked beneath those librarian clothes you wear,” Evan crooned. “Why do you hide that fuck-me body?” Evan’s words combined with the abandonment the wine lent her topped off with the stranger’s talented tongue, aroused her to uncharted territory. The urge to spread herself on the bed and let them suck her and fuck her was so powerful, she nearly demanded it. But she

couldn’t. There was a part of her that had never allowed herself to let completely go and give up control of her body. When she arched against Green Eyes, Evan cupped her straining breasts, tugging on her nipples just the way she liked it. “Oh—” she moaned, undulating against the stranger’s wanton mouth. “That feels so good.” Behind her, Evan’s cock swelled rock hard. He hurriedly shucked his clothes and dropped to his knees behind her. Grasping her hips he slid a finger down the crease of her ass, her juices so copious that her anus was wet. Evan used it to his advantage. Katy was a self-admitted prude in many ways, but when it came to sex, though she tried to suppress it, the sensualist in her came out. It had taken Evan months of relentless pursuit to get her into bed. And now, even after six months, she was still reluctant to let herself go. It was only when she had a buzz going that she was able to relax enough to allow him to try something new. Gently he worked his finger along the tight bud of her ass. “Oh,” she moaned when the stranger slid a finger deeply into her. “Please,” she begged. “Go slow.” As her ass moved back, Evan slid his finger into her, the slickness of her juices adding needed lubrication. “Easy, girl,” he whispered against her ass and nipped at it. Katy cried out in pleasure at the sting of his bite. Quickly he licked the hot spot and soothed it. Her body quivered around him, but opened up like a flower greeting the sunrise. It was surreal, standing between two men bent on pleasuring her. Yet the sensations they elicited was indescribably real. And shocking her to her conservative core. She didn’t want to think about how she would feel in the morning; she was only going to think about how they made her feel tonight. “Ah, there we go, you bad girl, all of the way in,” Evan, breathed as his finger slid completely into her anus. It was an odd but not uncomfortable sensation. “Easy,” she breathed gulping for air unsure of what to expect. Evan stood, allowing her the use of his chest for leverage, and then parted her knees from behind with his knee, giving the stranger greater access to her pussy. “Oh—God,” she breathlessly exhaled, as Green Eyes suckled her clit a little harder, and pressed his finger in a little deeper. She arched against Evan’s chest, lifting her arms and lacing her fingers behind his neck and at the same time pressing her pussy harder against the

lips and finger that ravaged it. Never had she felt so alive, so free, so uninhibited. She was drawn bow-tight. With his free hand, Evan cupped her breast and in tandem, he and the green-eyed stranger finger-fucked her into oblivion. Katy’s body shook like a rag doll caught up in a tornado, her excited moans and sensual sighs as erotic to her ears as what Evan and Green Eyes were doing to her. She still couldn’t believe she had agreed to this, but she was glad she did. She had never been so aroused in her life and never so close to an orgasm. “Do you like that, Katy, both of us finger-fucking you?” Evan asked. “Yesss,” she purred. “I love it.”

Chapter Three



K aty could not believe what she was allowing to happen to her. Two men at once! Both pleasing her. And she was going to let them. She threw the last of her hang-ups out the door. She was here, she was going to enjoy every single moment like there was no tomorrow. Because there would be no tomorrow. Not like this. If she could face Evan. And God help her if she ran into the stranger again. But she wasn’t going to worry about that now. Now the only thing she was going to worry about was how much she was going to enjoy giving Evan a blow job, while this green-eyed stud fucked her senseless. And wasn’t Evan going to be pleasantly surprised. He loved it when she went down on him more than intercourse. He was thick. He had a gorgeous wide head, and he knew how to use it, but this stranger’s cock was what porno movies were made from and she was so sopping wet with anticipation for it she could hardly stand it. Her lovers moved in perfect sync. When Evan pushed his finger into her, Green Eyes withdrew his thick finger from her pussy, but at the same time he held on to her clit with his blistering lips, sometimes grazing that sensitive nub with his teeth. It drove her crazy. Then when Evan pulled out, Green Eyes slid deeply into her, and suckled her clit as he flicked it with his tongue. Dear God but it was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Green Eyes made small contented sounds as if he were enjoying a feast. Maybe he was. Evan always said her pussy was the most delicious item on the menu, and in all the women he had gone down on, he never enjoyed one the way he did hers. She was tight, and for as much as she was being naughty right now, she’d had only four lovers in her thirty-year life,

including Evan and this stranger. Perhaps she’d have to rethink her reasons for being so chaste. The momentum of their fingers pushed her closer to the hovering orgasm, and just as it uncoiled within her, the stranger latched onto her clitoris and sucked it hard, curving his long thick finger into her G spot. Evan’s teeth sunk into her neck right where it met her shoulder, and he quickly thrust his finger in and out of her, machine-gun rapid. It was all too much and not enough. She screamed, not caring if the entire police department arrived on scene. The intensity of the orgasm wrecked her from the inside out, and before she could come down from it, Evan pulled her away from Green Eyes’ hot mouth and hand and carried her to the bed. “Keep the heels on, and get on all fours,” Evan commanded. Her body quaked with the aftermath of her orgasm, nowhere close to recovering. She couldn’t believe he’d done that! He knew this was her first! “Evan,” she gasped. “A minute—” He grabbed a condom from the dresser top and tossed it to Green Eyes, who looked like he was ready to throttle Evan. “Put that on and get behind her.” “I’m clean,” Green Eyes growled, then turned to Katy, and softly but firmly asked, “Is that what you want, sweetheart? Me behind you?” Her pussy clenched so tightly at the intimate way he spoke to her and the thought of him inside of her, she creamed herself. “Yes,” she hoarsely whispered. “Please.” Evan wasted no time as he positioned Katy so that she was facing him as he stood in front of her, his anxious cock wagging in front of her face. She reached out to take it into her mouth, but he grabbed her chin gently and shook his head. He opened the nearby bathroom door that had a full length mirror attached to it and angled it so that they could watch themselves. Katy shivered anxiously as she caught Green Eyes’ smoldering gaze in the mirror. He looked impatient to get inside her. Her pussy clamped and unclamped, the juice of her arousal moistening the inside of her thighs. God, she never dreamed she could feel this way. “I want to watch your face when he enters you and I want you to see it, too,” Evan said. “Yes,” she breathed. “I want to see everything.” “Easy does it, sweetheart,” Green Eyes crooned as he slid his big hands along the curve of

her ass cheeks before grasping the cradle of her hips from behind. And despite her eagerness for him, and his for her, he was gentle as he guided that massive cock slowly into her weeping pussy. Katy let out a long expansive moan as he filled her. The sublimity of sensation beyond her imagination. It was—it was—there were no words to describe the sensuality of the sensation of feeling him slowly fill her, as she watched his face tighten with desire, the blaze of green fire in his eyes, and the way her blue eyes shone and her lips parted in breathless abandon. If she could encapsulate the vision of just the two of them at that moment and time, she would never have need of a man again, because the picture they painted was carnal knowledge at its most basic. “Beautiful,” he said as he hit the core of her. “Eyes open, Katy, watch yourself,” Evan commanded. It was all she could do not to close her eyes and enjoy the glorious rapture of that thick rod sliding slowly into her. “You look so fucking hot right now,” Evan hoarsely whispered. When her eyes turned up to his, he had his cock in his hands, slowly stroking himself. “So fucking hot.” He guided the blunt head to her waiting lips. “Fuck me with your mouth, Katy, like he’s fucking your pussy with his cock, and don’t take your eyes off yourself as you do it.” Wet and needy, her pussy fisted the cock inside of her as she creamed. Green Eyes moaned, grasping her hips tightly. “Sweetheart, you are so damn tight and wet, let me set the pace or I’m going to explode.” “You wait until I say you can come,” Evan growled at Green Eyes. Green Eyes’ fingers tightened on her hips signaling his anger. But she didn’t want him to come yet, not when she knew she was going to come again herself, and this time, she was going to ride it all of the way out and enjoy it for what it was, because knowing her track record, it could very well be her last. Slowly, Katy sucked Evan’s swollen cock into her mouth. Watching him watch her and watching the stranger taking her from behind made her pussy spasm in all sorts of ways. It was indescribably delicious and she wondered if she would be ruined forever for one-on-one sex. This was so damned decadent. She had come so easily at the stranger’s mouth, something that never happened, and she knew she was going to come again by his cock.

Another first. Evan sank his fingers into her wild mass of tangles, and slowly began to thrust deeper into her mouth. She took all of it. One thing she had never been shy about was her affection for Evan’s cock. Maybe it was because it was so responsive to her. She loved touching it, licking it, manipulating it to granite, and Evan had always appreciated her efforts. Still, it was hard to concentrate on him while her pussy was being so properly fucked. And Green Eyes could fuck. He was as worked up as she. His fingers dug into the cradle of her hips, causing Katy to whimper in pleasure. She loved being dominated by these two men, and loved that Evan was calling the shots because never in a million years could she admit that what she was doing right now was something she never had the courage to fantasize about. “Pay attention to my cock, Katy, suck harder, take me deeper.” Immediately she obeyed. Balancing on one hand she cupped his smooth balls, and sucked him all of the way to the back of her throat. His sharp hiss of breath made her smile even with such a mouthful. He held her head firmly between his two hands, keeping her on point. Her skin shimmered, slick with sweat. The sound of Green Eyes’ hips slamming into her ass as his heavy balls swung up and slapped her swollen clit, coupled with Evan’s cock thrusting in and out of her mouth, had her on the verge of total meltdown. Saliva dripped down Evan’s shaft, the sound of his grunts and his slick thrusts a total turn-on. She whimpered as her body tensed with the impending climax. It was so hard to leash, it thrashed and thrust within her, demanding release. She whimpered again, feeling it slipping out of her control. “Come, Katy,” Evan commanded. “Come now!” At his command, her body shattered. Oh, God. She grabbed on to his cock, sucking him down her throat as her pussy fisted the other cock slamming in and out of her. In that perfect storm of erotic overload, she came in a wild, crazy, out of control orgasm that shook her from Evan slamming her mouth to Green Eyes ramming her pussy. It was epically perfect, and she knew that after this moment, she would never be the same. As her body came apart at the seams, the stranger behind her dug his fingers painfully into her hips, jettisoning her orgasm into the stratosphere. He cried out in primal satisfaction, his hips bombarding her. Caught up in the wild storm of their simultaneous orgasms, Katy closed

her eyes for one brief perfect moment as she absorbed the frenzied sensations crashing wildly between her body and the one buried deeply inside her. When she opened her eyes, and her gaze clashed with Evan’s hot gaze in the mirror, her pussy clamped harder around the orgasming cock inside of her, his furious yet predatory gaze adding mileage to her orgasm. “You’re killing me, sweetheart,” Green Eyes groaned, clasping her hips against his, holding her immobile as the last vestige of his orgasm rolled through them both. She didn’t want it to end. Evan cursed, abruptly pulled out of her mouth, and as he did, he grabbed Katy beneath the armpits and yanked her off the cock imbedded inside her. He flipped her over on to her back, grabbed her knees and spun her around. He yanked her toward his cock, then grabbing her hips he pulled her toward him as he moved into her, impaling himself deep inside of her. “What are you doing!” she gasped. He thrust into her. “Fucking you the way you should be fucked.” Her liquid muscles grasped him, holding onto him, milking him from the orgasm she was still experiencing. He looked up and past her to Green Eyes. “Your party’s over, get out of here.” “You’re a sick fuck,” the stranger said as he pulled the wet condom off and flung it on the floor. Before he made a move for his clothes or for the door, he caught Katy’s eyes in the mirror. “Do you want me to leave?” No, she wanted him to stay. But—Closing her eyes she turned away from him and said, “Yes.” “You got it.” She could only open her eyes after the door slammed shut, signaling his exit. Katy didn’t want to know what evil adjectives he was using to describe her at the moment. She would never see him again, and she was very okay with that because she doubted she would be able to face him.

Chapter Four



G asping for breath as her body continued to spasm with the remnants from her orgasm with Green Eyes, Katy tried to sort her emotions. It had been amazing. “You liked that big cock?” Evan furiously demanded. “Yes,” she admitted. He thrust into her. “Do you like this cock?” “Yesss,” she hissed. Her body, still on overdrive, trembled violently as another orgasm began to unfurl. Sensing it, Evan withdrew completely. “No!” her hips chased his as the rest of her body undulated with need. “Evan! Please,” she begged, reaching up to grab him. “You don’t come for me when you’re still creaming for him, Katy.” “I’m not!” Evan lowered his head to hover just above hers. “You don’t get to come until I say you can come, Katy.” His body shook with desire but he withheld himself from her. “Lie back and don’t move.” She immediately complied. Lord help her but she wanted another orgasm. Ten more! Her body twitched as she fought to force it into submission. Her breathing was accelerated, her breasts rising and falling quickly in tune with her shallow breaths. “Spread your legs.” Before he finished the command they were parted. Katy bit her bottom lip as she felt warm wetness drip between her sensitive folds. “Your pussy is weeping, Katy. Weeping for my cock. Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “If you’re a good girl, you might get it.” “I’ll do—” “Quiet! I didn’t tell you to speak.” He moved off the bed to stand beside her, and as he looked down at her, he slowly stroked his cock. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you have it, but if you’re bad…” He smiled wickedly and suddenly she wanted to know what the punishment would be. Evan had large hands. Nicely formed fingers and neat nails. With each stroke his bicep bunched and released. She liked a man with nice arms. Her gaze dropped to what his hand was playing with, pre-cum glistening on the fleshy head. She swallowed hard. She was not a patient woman. He bent over her and captured a nipple between his teeth. She hissed in a sharp breath, as she forced herself to keep from rising to him. His hand brushed her thigh, the tip of his heavy cock nudging her. He tugged at the nipple, causing all sorts of wild shivers to course through her. “You like the pain, Katy?” he breathed. His hot breath against her wanting flesh flamed her desire. “No,” she denied. Only to herself would she dare admit, that she liked the pain that came from being dominated. She liked that aspect of her kink to be taken out of her hands, almost as if it wasn’t really her decision to be dominated. In reality, though, she allowed it. The realization should have shocked her, but it only made her hotter for the man above her, whom she trusted not to hurt her. That revelation surprised her. She and Evan were fuck buddies for the most part. Yes, they occasionally went out to dinner or to a movie but it was always a precursor to sex. He was a good lover. She had opened up more for him than any other man. Though she didn’t orgasm, she enjoyed sex with him. He was funny, passionate, and unselfish. But their intimacy began and ended in bed. It struck her at that moment that she wanted more from him. Had wanted more for a while now but hadn’t been willing to risk the relationship they did have. Knowing she wanted more made her feel vulnerable and that scared her. For now, between her long hours in the lab and his lack of interest in going to the next level, it was easier just being fuck buddies. No one got hurt. Besides, if Evan had true feelings for her he would not have been so quick to watch another man fuck her. And that was the saddest thing of all. She shivered as her mind and body recalled the tremendous orgasms that had ensued with

Green Eyes. Oh, but what a gift Evan had given her. The tension her thoughts created eased from her only to be replaced by a different tension. She and Evan needed to talk—after he fucked her proper. “Where did you go?” he softly demanded. Katy opened her eyes not realizing she had closed them and looked up into two heated hazel eyes. A sly smile stole across her lips. “That’s for me to know and you find out.” His eyes flared and his cock flexed against her thigh. “It will be my pleasure to fuck it out of you.” “I would expect nothing less.” He grabbed her hands pushing them over her head. “Grab the headboard and don’t let go until I tell you.” The urge to defy him was overrun by the excitement of him having control of her body. Trembling violently, she felt the slow drip of cream between her thighs. She moaned as she arched, twisting her hips toward his eager cock. “No, no, my dear,” he softly said as he nipped a hard nipple, and pressed her hips back into the sheets. “You don’t get any of that until you tell me what was going on in that pretty little head of yours.” “I—I was thinking how much I liked two cocks in me at the same time.” “Yeah?” he said, as he straddled her and pushed her thighs apart with his knee. “Yeah,” she gasped. “Please, Evan,” she begged. “Don’t torture me.” “How can I not when you’re talking about liking another man’s cock inside of you?” “But you—” He nudged her slick lips with his cock head and nipped at her shoulder. “I didn’t think you would do it.” Her nipples puckered and her breasts grew heavier as she relived the moment Green Eyes slid her glasses from her face and then unhurriedly unclasped the hair clip allowing her hair to spill down her back, a sensuous precursor to carnal paradise. “I was shocked when you dared me, I thought—” His lips slid along her collarbone, eliciting a moan. His fingers trailed down her belly to rest on her damp mound. When he cupped her, she fought the urge to raise her hips to encourage him to go further. He slid his middle finger across her clitoris, her juices making it

swirl easily. “Oh—” “Oh, indeed,” he said, lapping a nipple. His tongue swirled around the hardened peak as his fingertip traced a slow figure eight around her clit. “Evan,” she breathed. “Don’t move,” he commanded. “Not one muscle until I say you can.” His lips trailed languidly from her breasts down her belly to her navel as his feather soft fingertips played with her clit and pussy lips. His tongue was wet, and strong, lapping her skin as if he were a dog licking a bone. Sensation riveted her, and if she could have, she would have sunk her fingers into his hair and pressed his lips more firmly into her, demanding he— ahhh, his tongue swirled around her hot nub, catching it, holding it, letting it go before quickly retaking it. His finger slid deeper against her seam, opening her, back and forth, so slow she was going to die of anticipation. She fought her body’s need to writhe and pitch. Unendurable tension swelled within her. Her jaw hung slack as she gulped for air, and her fingers grasped the headboard so tightly they ached. When she squeezed her eyes shut, two piercing green eyes taunted her. The orgasm built with a fevered pitch. She forced the image out of her head. She was with Evan. “Open your eyes, Katy. Look in the mirror and see how sweet and pink and creamy you are.” She did as commanded and nearly came at the sight. “Tell me why you took my dare?” “Because I was angry you even asked it!” she cried. And because I could have Green Eyes. As his finger slid deeply into her, she gasped. “Oh, sweet Jesus, Evan, please—” “You could have said no.” He suckled her nether lips and slid in a second finger. Her body quaked. She could have. But she didn’t. “I thought you didn’t—caaarre … I mean —” She licked her dry lips. “We’re just fuck buddies.” He stopped all movement and caught her hooded gaze in the mirror. “Is that all you think you are to me?” She swallowed hard and forced back the urge to undulate. “Aren’t I?’ A smile stole across his handsome lips. He kissed her clitoris, then nipped at it, causing her hips to flinch. It felt so damn good when he did that. Just the right amount of pain. Not

enough to hurt, just enough to—ahhh, he grazed his teeth along her stiff little peak. “I love fucking you, Katrina Winslow.” He slipped his fingers from her and she almost cried. His hands cupped her breasts, bringing them together, and he sucked each nipple, then kissed his way up her neck to her lips. He dug his fingers into her hair, cupping her head in his palms. “You are so responsive tonight. So eager. Yet still so shy.” He yanked her hands lose, freeing her, and as he did, he hovered above her. “It took another man in our bed to unleash the wanton in you, Katy.” He slid into her, filling her inch by inch to capacity. Her body hugged him as one would a long lost lover. He felt so good. “But I’m man enough to accept that because I love fucking you.” He slowly thrust. “I love that you trust me with your body.” His lips lowered to hers, his tongue gently parting her lips. His kiss was gentle, but built quickly in tune to the cadence of his hips. “How could you ever think you were just a fuck buddy to me?” She’d held so much of herself locked away from him because she hadn’t thought he would care, or like his predecessors, he would abandon her. “I’m sorry, Evan, I had no idea.” He moved slowly but deeply in and out of her body. It felt so good. If she didn’t know better, she’d say she was drugged. He swept her away to a place she never imagined she would go with him. His kiss deepened, and the urgency in his body quickened. Tearing his lips from hers, he clasped her face between his hands. “Come, Katy, come now.” And for the first time with Evan inside her, she did. “God, yes,” he hissed. “Finally.” “Evan,” she gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he followed her in an orgasm of his own. “Katy,” he cried triumphantly, capturing her lips again, grasping her tightly to him as their bodies strained in the timeless throes of passion.

Chapter Five



E van lay sprawled on his back. Katy wanted to snuggle up to him and talk about what just happened between them. But she’d learned the first time they’d had sex that he wasn’t much of a cuddler afterwards. “It’s not you, Katy,” he’d said when he gently pushed her away. “I just like space.” She curled up alongside him, but after what just happened on this bed, she wanted a connection, even a small one. Reaching out a hand to run her fingers through his damp hair, Evan tensed. She stopped inches away from him, feeling rejected. And a little angry by his rejection. She tried not to think about Green Eyes, and the things he had done to her body and how it made her feel. Even as she tried not to think about him she couldn’t help it. Her body warmed, and her sensitive nipples tingled as she wondered if he was a cuddler. Dragging her thoughts back to her boyfriend, Katy waited patiently as Evan lay quiet for long minutes staring at the ceiling. Finally, he loudly exhaled. “What’s wrong?” she asked, hoping they could talk this out. Wanting to talk it out and move on to the next phase of their relationship. He turned and faced her, his eyes serious. “I’m having some trouble understanding what just happened here, and how I feel about it.” She rose up on an elbow. “Okay.” She bit her tongue to keep from blurting out that it was okay, they could work through it. But she knew it wasn’t okay with Evan. Not now anyway. But it would be. She was patient. “One minute I’m getting off watching you getting fucked by some stranger; a fuck you

were thoroughly enjoying in case you didn’t think I noticed. And from my perspective enjoying more than any time we’ve fucked, and it pissed me off that you came for him in less than ten minutes when you hadn’t come for me in six months.” Uh, what was she supposed to say? ‘I’m sorry you dared me to invite that stud into our bed and that I liked it?’ “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Yes we did,” she softly said, trying to lighten the mood. Lifting up on an elbow she gazed intently at him. When his dick twitched, her lips slowly parted. “I think someone wants to go again,” she teased. He turned and fully faced her. “You’re beautiful, Katy. I’ve never seen you more stunning then you are at this moment.” He traced a finger across her tender lips. “Your lips are still swollen from my kisses.” He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, his fingertips trailing across her skin. His dick swelled. She smiled softly. “You’ve never said those things to me before.” She moved into him. “Evan, I don’t want to hide our relationship anymore.” Swallowing hard, he moved away avoiding her gaze. “You know the rules, Katy, no fraternizing.” “I can move to another lab, Evan, and besides, it’s not like I’m going to get fired. I want you to meet my family. It’s time.” Shaking his head, still avoiding her gaze, he said, “I’m not sure if we’re there yet.” Scooting closer to him she touched his shoulder. “If we aren’t just fuck buddies, why not?” He jammed his fingers through his hair and loudly exhaled. Stiffening, Katy sat up and looked pointedly at him. “Or are we?” Rising up on his elbows, Evan looked up to the ceiling as if he would find his answer there. Alarm bells sounded in Katy’s ears. Intuitively she knew his issue wasn’t with what just happened in this room, it was something else entirely. “Katy,” he sighed and looked at her. “I can’t give you any more than I have been.” She grabbed the sheet, pulling it around her. “Why not?” “I just can’t,” he said, sitting up presenting his back to her and dropping his feet to the floor. Shaking her head, she slid from the bed on the other side and moved around the room

picking up her clothing, awkwardly getting dressed. She was shaking. Afraid she was on the verge of losing him for something he wanted and she did to please him. “Man up and tell me the truth, Evan. I can take it.” He looked past her to the mirror, scowling at the man staring back. “I’m married,” he said. The words didn’t register. Married? Like to his job? “I’m married, Katy,” he repeated. “I have been for twelve years.” Ding. Message received. Married as in two people legally bound as spouse and spouse. “What?” she demanded, whirling around. “You’re what?” Dragging his eyes from the mirror, Evan dropped his head into his palms and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’m married,” he said, refusing to meet her eyes. Jaw agape, she stood rooted to the floor too stunned to move, to even think of how she was going to kill him. He looked up at her with pleading eyes. “I didn’t mean for things to go this far, Katy. But I —I became obsessed with your research. Do you have any idea how brilliant you are?” He stood and jammed his fingers through his hair. “And Jesus, when I saw you in the gym almost a year ago, and what you keep hidden beneath your lab coat. Call me a fucking dog, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted you so badly I couldn’t concentrate on anything except finding a way to have you.” Dropping her clothes, Katy grabbed her five inch stiletto and whacked him on the back of the head. The loud crack of the leather smacking his skull gave her immense satisfaction. She raised it again. “Get out.” The bastard nodded and quickly dressed. As he made it to the door he grabbed his cellphone sitting on the dresser, and then turned to her and said, “I know it doesn’t matter, but I’m sorry.” “That and a dollar will get you shit. Now leave.”

When the door shut behind him, Katy stood staring at it for several long minutes. Stunned

was the only word to describe what she felt at that moment. Stunned. She hadn’t seen that bomb coming. Oh, but Katy, you had to have known … What a stupid fool she had been! How did she not see the signs? Oh, my God! They were all there! They kept their affair secret from the people they worked with. They only met on the weekdays, he always had to be somewhere on the weekend. He never spent the night at her place and they never went to his place. The rare times he had his phone turned on he guarded it like it was Fort Knox. And at work? How had it never come up? Why didn’t she know this? Because she was a lab rat and so were her coworkers. They were scientists who kept to themselves, never discussing personal matters. The perfect environment for living in a fucking bubble! She jumped into the shower and scrubbed every inch of Evan Scott from her body. God she wanted to hurt him. She had believed his lies. Every last one of them! What a naive fool she had been! Even after scrubbing her skin raw she still felt dirty. Naked and dripping wet, Katy paced her room. She couldn’t decide if she was more angry, embarrassed or hurt. Hell, why not the trifecta? She was furious she had been led on to the extent that she had developed feelings for Evan. Angry with herself for being so damn naïve. Embarrassed didn’t begin to describe how humiliated she felt. Not so much for being used, but trusting Evan enough, wanting to please him so much she had agreed to sex with a stranger! Who did that? Why had she allowed herself to be manipulated into such a tawdry scenario? She was a brilliant scientist for God’s sake! Her IQ 175! Pharmaceutical companies threw obscene amounts of money at her to simply mention their name in her research papers or AMA articles. For one so brilliant, how could she be so dumb? Her chest ached. She didn’t love Evan. She didn’t know if she was capable of such an emotion. Not in the romantic sense. She loved her mother and she loved her best friend Rosie. She even loved Rosie’s hubby Elliot. She had a cat once and loved him until he ran off abandoning her like every other male in her life. But she dealt. She had her work. She had her charities and she had her foundations. It had been enough before Evan walked into her life, it would be enough after. With that understanding, Katy grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her damp body. The only problem with all of this logical deducing was that it didn’t fill her new need. Because up until just a few hours ago, her life didn’t consist of one orgasm much

less multiples. And she kind of wanted another one. Or two. Or ten. But that meant a man. And men were public enemy number one.

The next morning she strode into the conference room as if nothing had happened, when in reality, she was dying inside. She couldn’t help it. Embarrassed heat rose in her cheeks as she caught Evan’s impassive gaze. How nice for him that he could look right through her as if she were as insignificant as a fly on the wall. Her pride kicked her bruised ego in the ass. He wasn’t worth her time. Married bastard. She deserved a man who chose her and only her. And she sure as hell deserved a man who wouldn’t lend her out for free fucks. Fuck you, she mouthed, then strode past him to the podium. Eat your heart out Evan Scott. It took a stranger to do in less than ten minutes what it took you over six months to do. Today was her day to shine as she presented her groundbreaking studies on a new breast cancer gene study. And she was damned if she was going to allow anything or anyone take the spotlight off her and her crowning achievement thus far in her skyrocketing career. With that focus, she made her presentation with calm, dignified grace. It gave her great satisfaction to watch Evan go from uninterested observer when she walked into the large meeting room to captive audience by the time she gave her summation. She was swarmed by her colleagues after she wrapped up, and was glad that Evan had left the room. She let out a long sigh of relief. Good riddance. Almost an hour later, after an impromptu Q&A session, Katy stood by the elevator door, ready to return to her room on the fifth floor, and caught her breath when it opened. The stranger she had invited into her bed the night before nearly plowed into her. Her face flushed hotly. No longer the confident scientist, she was a nervous as schoolgirl. Even more than Evan, Green Eyes was the last person on earth she wanted to run into! He must think she was a tramp of the worst kind. Oh God, why had she allowed Evan to goad her into such a scandalous encounter? If she had one wish it would be to disappear. To her horror, he stopped when he realized it was her.

A wide smile split his face. He had dazzling white teeth. “Just the lady I was looking for.” His voice was warm and husky. She shivered as she remembered … everything. Dear God, please don’t let me come across as pathetic. She mustered some of her anger at Evan and turned it on Green Eyes. Attitude went a long way, baby. Katy straightened, set her hand on her hip, and cocked a brow. “Really?” “I just went to your room to tell you the douche you’re with isn’t worth your time. Any guy who would do that to his girl is an asshole. Then I was going to send him packing, turn my charm on you, and beg you to run away with me.” “You’re too late,” Katy said, stepping into the car and pressing her floor. When the doors closed she glanced up at her handsome one-night stand. “The rat bastard douche bag outted himself last night.” “So you’ll run away with me?” Katy smiled despite herself. “I’m swearing off all men at the moment.” Her face tightened. Thankfully there were no stops before her floor. “Now if you will excuse me.” She moved past him into the hall, but he called after her. “I’m not really a man!” “I saw your package,” she threw back at him, his humor and confidence giving her mood a boost. “You’re most definitely a man!” “When you change your mind—” “I won’t.” As she rounded the corner to her room she stopped short. Evan nervously paced outside. Like he was afraid. Afraid she might tell his wife? As much as she wanted to, she wouldn’t. That was their business. “Just leave me alone,” she said brushing past him. “I left my wallet on your nightstand.” She shook her head. Prick. No declaration of his feelings. No “I’m sorry, I’m going to leave my wife,” as if she would even consider him now. No—nothing. Quickly she slid the key card into the slot and strode into the room, tossed her leather portfolio on the bed, grabbed his wallet off the nightstand and threw it at him. He caught it without looking at it. “Katy, I’m sorry.” “You are sorry. And I’m sorrier for not seeing what was right in front of me.” She strode to the door and yanked it open. “Do not, ever, under any circumstances contact me again or I

will track down your wife and tell her what a two-timing slime bag her husband is.” His face drained of color. She laughed at him. “You’re such a girl, Evan. Go home to your wife. I wouldn’t have you now if you were the last man on earth.” She pushed him backward until he was out of her room, slammed the door shut, threw the dead bolt, then sank to the floor and cried. Why she cried she did not know. It wasn’t like the love of her life had dumped her. At the most, she had been in-like with Evan, and if she were honest with herself, had he been a little more attentive, and not married, she could have fallen in love with him. Maybe. She was crying because she let herself down. What she did last night… If what happened in this room last night got out, her credibility amongst her peers would be gone. Because everyone knew you could not have a genius IQ and fuck a stranger, and like it all while your married boyfriend watched! The world of science was funny like that. Sexpot and brains did not come in the same package. There was a rule about it somewhere. Hanging her head between her knees, she cried some more. How long she cried, she didn’t know and she really didn’t care. Her swollen face felt like she had cried for hours, maybe she had, but when the tears no longer fell she got mad again. Angrily she paced her hotel room and told Evan Scott off a half dozen different ways and then told him in painful detail what she would do to him if she ever got her hands on him again. Flinging the bathroom door open, she slammed it shut just because she needed to physically vent. She pulled her skirt up, pulled her panties down, and plopped down on the toilet and peed. When she looked at herself in the long mirror on the back of the door, she gasped. Her long curls were snarled and matted. Her eyes nothing more than puffy slits sitting atop splotchy red cheeks and a runny red nose. “You’re pathetic Katrina Winslow. No wonder you attract losers.” She wiped herself and shucked her clothes. She didn’t need Evan Scott or Green Eyes for that matter. And she’d prove it. She jumped in the shower, and when she stood dried and naked before the mirror she made a pact with herself. No more men. Clarify: No more relationships. She was tired of having her heart broken. That said, she wanted a lover who could do the things to her that

Green Eyes did. With that commitment to herself, she dared herself to dress to kill, and go downstairs to the hotel bar. Well, for her it was dressed to kill, for other women it might be dressed to bore. She did have one wardrobe vice: she was never without her requisite black suede Louboutin peekaboo pumps. For her walk on the wild side tonight, she wore a scooped neck form-fitting white cashmere sweater, and a fitted black linen skirt that buttoned down the back all of the way to the vent and hugged her curves a little more than she was comfortable with, but Evan had picked it out and insisted she wear it for him. Oh, she was wearing it in his honor all right. And she was going to do what any man would do when they discovered their lover was cheating on them: look for a hookup to ease the pain. And she knew just who she was going to tap.

Chapter Six



I nstead, she sat alone in the quiet bar and drank. Shots. Of Patron. Four shots in, the bar began to fill. The cops were back, and as each one walked past her they gave her an appreciative glance. But not one of them stopped. Did she have an anthrax warning sign stamped on her forehead? Was her pathetic need for attention that obvious? She sank into her chair. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a casual sex kind of girl, no matter how good last night was before Evan dropped his bomb. Coming down here and drinking was a bad idea. She should stop right now and go back to her room. She had an early afternoon flight back to San Francisco the next day and had yet to pack. “I thought you were done with men?” a familiar deep voice asked beside her. Katy’s heart rate quickened and her womb tightened. Yeah, well, her head might be over men but her body obviously wasn’t. She looked up into two of the sexiest eyes she had ever seen and shrugged. “I am, I was just thirsty.” He pulled out the chair beside her and asked, “May I?” Rolling her eyes, she nodded. As he settled his long body into the chair, he pointed to the empty glasses on the table. “I can see you are thirsty. Four shots of tequila should quench it.” When the server came by, Katy pointed to her empty glasses. “Another Patron please, make it a double.” Green Eyes scowled but didn’t say a word except, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Katy giggled as she thought of the When Harry Met Sally deli scene with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal. “You know,” he said, leaning toward her. His breath was warm and smelled like dark chocolate mint. “Drinking by yourself in a bar full of horny cops isn’t a very good idea.” She sipped the last of her current drink and looked him straight in the eye. He was damn good looking even with the little scar on the edge of his chin. His eyes were his best feature. Deep green and expressive. His lips were a close second. Wide and full and, sigh, soft. His hair was a thick dark brown with natural gold streaked through it. It was stylishly cut, with just a wisp of bangs dropping down his forehead. “Hey?” He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. “Earth to Hot Lips.” She blinked suddenly, remembering his statement, and said, “Why is that? Will one of them put the moves on me? Tell me how hot I am, how they’ve been looking for me all their life and if I just go upstairs to their room with them, they’ll show me a good time?” His lips twitched, and he nodded. “Did it ever occur to you that that’s exactly why I’m down here drinking alone? And yet—” She looked up at the group of men who eyed them. “Not one of them has come by to test the waters.” She slumped back in the chair. “Did you tell them—about last night?” Her cheeks flamed hot. “You insult my chivalry, Madame. A gentleman does not discuss his exploits with other men.” “Not even a threesome?” His lips quirked and he scolded. “Especially not that. Not with you involved, anyway.” “Then I must have a Do Not Disturb sign on my forehead.” Their drinks arrived and Katy grabbed her glass and raised it to his. “Here’s to not getting any.” His eyes twinkled. “I warned them off. Otherwise they’d be all over you.” “You what? Why?” “Because you’re too vulnerable at the moment.” “Oh? And who made you the boss of me?” “I did.” “I officially relinquish you of your duties.” She threw her drink back and slowly stood. The

room tilted, then righted, before tilting the other way. He stood and steadied her. “Where are you going?” “I’m going to that douche bag’s room and telling him off.” “That probably isn’t a good idea, considering how many drinks you’ve had.” She yanked her arm from his hand. “You’re not the boss of me.” She moved past him and nearly tripped over his feet. “Damn big feet get out of my way.” She giggled. “To go with a damn big cock.” She spun around and smiled at him, then pointed to his crotch. “Including you last night, I’ve been with four guys and you totally win the biggest and bestest cock award.” He grinned, and slid an arm around her waist. “Hey, what’er you doing?” she asked, wanting to pull away, but her body melted into his warmth. Damn traitorous body. “Helping you to douche bag’s room so you can tell him off.” “Oh, okay. I’d appreciate that.” As they made their way to the elevator, the tequila really started to kick in. “Did you know,” she started, “I discovered a new gene mutation that flags breast cancer?” It was important to her that he knew she was an intelligent woman and not some floozy barfly. “No, I didn’t know that.” “There are already two that have been identified, but I developed a new process that reveals the third and this one has a higher detection rate.” “Are you a doctor?” “Yup.” The elevator door opened and he guided her in. As she turned, the floor tilted. She grabbed on to hot cop. “Are you a cop?” “Yup.” “Can I see your gun?” she snickered. “Not in public.” When the car didn’t move, she said, “Douche bag’s in room 3672.” As they exited the car on Evan’s floor, Katy stood unsure for a minute. “This could get ugly. You should wait here.” “If it gets ugly, you’ll need a cop. I’ll go with you.” “’Kay.” She stumbled to the end of the hall to Evan’s room and loudly knocked on the door.

To her shock—why, after his revelation, she should be shocked she didn’t know; prolly the tequila—a blonde wearing one of Evan’s dress shirts opened it. “Can I help you?” she asked curiously. “Who is it, babe?” Evan called from the shower. “We’re sorry,” Hot cop said, collecting Katy. “Wrong room.” He whisked her around and into his arms just as the shock of seeing another woman in Evan’s room kicked in. “Hey, if you’re his wife,” Katy yelled at the top of her lungs, “He fucked me last night!” “Quiet,” Hot Cop half-laughed, half-scolded. “Or you’re going to get us kicked out of here.” She didn’t care. As she hung in his arms she started to sob. “I’m such an idiot!” “He’s the idiot.” “Ugh, I don’t feel good.” “Have you eaten today?” “No, I wasn’t hungry.” And the thought of food made her stomach churn. He strode with her in his arms past the elevator. “Hey, you passed the elevator,” she slurred, looking over his wide shoulders at it. Continuing down the hall to the last room on the right, he slid his key card in the slot and opened the door with his foot, kicked it shut, locked it, then walked into the room. It was larger than hers: a suite. Carefully he set her down on the bed. “You need to eat, and you need to sleep off the booze.” “But I have a plane to catch tomorrow.” “Fine, so do as I say and you’ll make it.” He dialed room service and ordered half of the menu. As he did she laid back on the bed and stared at him. “Are you married?” “No.” She held out her unsteady hand. “Hi, I’m Katrina, my friends and ex-douche-bag-lovers call me Katy. I’m not married and never will be.” He grinned and took her hand, wrapping it in his big warm one. “Hi, Kat, I’m Simon, and in my line of work I learned a long time ago to keep my options open.” Katy warmed at the pet name. No one had ever called her Kat before. She liked how it

sounded all sex-kittenish when he said it. But she pulled her hand from his, because she liked just about everything about Simon. She was over men for now. Thank God he had taken her out of the bar when he did. “I need to get back to my room.” “Eat something first, then I’ll walk you back.” Fair enough. Besides, she didn’t think she could get up. Unexpected tears leaked from her eyes. “Don’t cry over him, Kat. He’s not worth it.” “I wasn’t worth it,” she sniffed and wiped her sleeve across her runny nose. She sniffed again and hiccoughed. “I never am.” He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, took her chin in his hand, and scowled at her. “That’s a crock of bullshit. Don’t say that again.” “Since I’ll never see you again, I can promise you that.” His lips turned up into a naughty smile. “Maybe.” She grabbed his hand and wiped her nose across the back of it. It took her inebriated brain a minute to realize what she had just done. Her eyes widened, and then narrowed when two of him shimmered before her. She blinked. “I’m sorry, that was gross.” “That’s two to one. I owe you.” “What do you mean?” His lips turned into a wolfish smile. “You think about it.” He stood up and said, “Relax until the food arrives.” As he said the words he slid his cell phone from his pocket and just as he was about to shuck his suit jacket there was a knock at the door.

Chapter Seven



“R oom service.” Katy watched him walk past her to the door and even in her drunken state found it hard to drag her eyes off him. He moved like a big panther. Lethal grace. She sighed and closed her eyes. A mistake; the room spun. She opened her eyes, struggling to sit up. The minute the waiter uncovered the food and the aroma hit her nostrils, she bolted for what she sure hoped was the bathroom. Skidding to a halt on her knees, she heaved just before she got to the toilet. It went everywhere, including all over her, but she didn’t care. She pulled herself up and hugged the porcelain goddess, finding the cool smoothness of the commode soothing to her sweaty warm skin. Shielded by her wild mass of hair, she puked again and again, eyes closed, feeling as if she were at death’s door. Her hair magically lifted from around her and a cool wet cloth wrapped around the back of her neck. “Go away,” she muttered. “I—” She fought for control. “Don’t—” Her stomach convulsed as it tried to eject what was left in it. “Want—you—to see—” She lost the fight and vomited again. Gasping for breath, she wiped her mouth on the rim of the toilet. “Like this …” God, she felt horrible. She closed her eyes, praying for a quick death. “Please,” she begged. “Just go away.” When she heard the door close, she let out a sigh of relief. Until the stench of her puke assaulted her nostrils, causing her stomach to roil again. She turned her throbbing head

toward the big walk-in shower. With a military crawl she dragged herself to the open stall, and somehow managed to reach the taps in the corner and turn the water on. Under the hot spray, she leaned back against the marble tile, pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and cried. And cried. Two strong arms pulled her into a warm, wet embrace, and she cried harder. When a large hand pressed her head to his chest and he murmured soft comforting words to her, she cried so hard her chest burned. She didn’t care when she wiped her nose across his soaked linen shirt. She didn’t care when she found herself clinging to him as if he were her only lifeline in her ocean of angst. She didn’t care that she was making a colossal fool out of herself. She just wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die. He stroked her drenched hair. “Don’t cry for him, Kat, he’s not worth it.” She cried harder. He didn’t understand. “You don’t understand,” she wailed. “I—I trusted him with—with my feelings and my body!” She choked back tears, her throat raw from the booze, puking, and crying. “He dared me to—to—you know, and I was afraid if I didn’t, he would leave me, but when I did, he lost respect for me anyway, and the being married thing was a deal breaker, but even if he wasn’t married he would have dumped me.” She looked up through blurry eyes into his calm ones. His long black lashes were spiked from the water, and she pulled away. “You’re dressed!” He cracked a smile. “So are you.” “But I threw up all over myself.” “And you wiped your snotty nose on my shirt. And hand.” She hiccoughed. “Sorry.” “I have a dozen more.” He notched her chin up to look him in the eye. “That guy was an asshole. He was always going to leave you because he’s married.” She shook her head as the warm sting of tears filled her eyes. “No, he couldn’t handle the fact that I went there with you. That I liked it better with you than with him.” She rubbed her forehead against his hard chest. “I really liked having sex with you, and it’s his fault I had two orgasms with you and I’ve never done that with him.” She sucked back a sob, and looked up

at Simon through her tears and the shower water that he must have adjusted because it wasn’t nearly as strong as when she turned it on. “No, that isn’t the whole story. I could have declined his dare. I didn’t. So it was my choice. He didn’t force me. He didn’t have to, because if it had been anyone but you, I wouldn’t have done it.” She nodded to herself. “It’s true, but—if Evan hadn’t asked, I wouldn’t have. I mean though, we never talked about it, I thought we were in a monogamous relationship. Except I was the only one being monogamous! He just used me! And I let him,” she wailed. “Why are you taking the blame for his dishonesty?” “I’m——” She grabbed his collar with two hands and whispered, “Simon, I think I’m a secret slut.” His lips tightened as if he were trying not to smile. She didn’t see what was so funny. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m being honest here. Telling you my deepest darkest secrets!” “I’m not laughing at you, Kat. I’m enjoying your candor.” “Well, I enjoyed being with you last night. A lot. I’ve never had one orgasm like that much less two! Ev-er. And there are things I—crave, Simon. Things I shouldn’t. Things I never told Evan or any man. Things I shouldn’t want to do.” “Like what?” “Like—things …” Heat flushed her cheeks. “Like golden showers?” “No!” “Like with animals?” “God, no!” “Like with girls?” “Ha, wouldn’t you like to watch that?” “I might once or twice.” “Pig.” “I’ve been called worse.” He nudged her. “Like what things?” “Like, I think I like to be dominated,” she blurt out. God did she really just say that? Blame it on the tequila! He shrugged. “So?” Then his eyes narrowed. “Are you into pain?” “No, not like whips and chains pain, but—”

He nipped at her cheek, and then licked his tongue across it, soothing the sting. “That kind of pain?” Katy’s body shivered with warmth. “Y-es.” “When you say dominated, do you mean like master slave kind of stuff?” “No, I just—like to be told.” “What did you like most about last night?” She shivered and dropped her gaze to his lap and let the tequila tell the truth on her behalf. “That it was you. That Evan was in control, and that made it okay for me to do what I secretly wanted to do.” “Which was?” “Enjoy you.” “What if I had said no?” “Then that would have been the end of it.” He nudged her chin up to look at him. “Why did you pick me?” “Because after we bumped into each other, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He grinned. “Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal.” She slapped at his arm. “Why did you say yes?” “Because after we bumped into each other, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She grinned. “Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal, too.” His smile widened. “You are. I had to pull rank on those dogs down there to keep them off your scent.” “Yeah? What are you, a sergeant?” “Captain.” “Are captains allowed to—do what you did?” He traced a fingertip along her bottom lip. “Captains can do whatever the hell they want.” “Oh.” He plucked her lip and said, “I’d lay a big sloppy one on you, but you need to brush your teeth.” “Ugh!” She pushed out of his arms and tried to stand. As she swayed backward he reached up and caught her. Standing with her, he handed her a bar of soap. “Take a hot shower, you’ll feel better, there’s a robe in the closet.”

He set out a toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink before he left her to her privacy. When she emerged some time later she was shaky on her feet but she felt miles better than she did when she dragged herself into the shower.

Chapter Eight



S imon was barefoot and dry, except for his damp hair, and half-dressed in a pair of low slung jeans that lovingly hugged his hips and thighs. He was just pulling down a black T-shirt when she caught a glimpse of his washboard abs. She sighed. Evan looked good, but he’d never looked like that. She remembered the feel of Simon’s smooth skin and hard muscles against her. Her body warmed as it remembered other parts of him touching her more intimately. “I, ah, need to go to my room,” she stammered. His room was much too small for the two of them and the way she was feeling. He pointed to the trays of covered food. “Try to eat something first. And hydrate. There’s plenty of bottled water.” Her empty stomach gurgled, but she was too tired to do anything about it. She yawned, too exhausted to do anything but sleep. “Thank you, but I’m too tired to eat. I’m just going to sit down for a minute, then go.” Gratefully she sunk into the massive recliner between the bed and dining table. He nodded and walked past her to his laptop on the desk and booted it up. She watched, with swollen, burning eyes, the way his muscles played along his back, and the way his bicep flexed when he clicked the mouse. His fingers were long and thick, and—she squirmed in her chair—talented. Her cheeks flamed with heat and she was suddenly overwhelmed by what she had done the night before. How she’d let go completely with this man she didn’t know. How was it that

she’d never been so uninhibited with Evan until last night? “Stop thinking about how much you want to jump my bones,” he said without turning around. She gasped. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she defended He turned and speared her with those blazing green eyes. “Your cheeks are as red as your pretty little ass was last night.” “Don’t say that,” she whispered, forcing herself not to squirm in her chair. He turned back around and hit the keyboard, but asked, “Why can’t I talk about last night?” “Because, I—feel foolish.” He turned on her then and she could see he wanted to get up and come near her but he instinctively knew she would back away. And she would. She didn’t trust him. Not to not hurt her, but herself with him. He would use her, she would let him, and then he’d be gone. “Why? Didn’t you enjoy it?” Her cheeks flamed again. “You know I did.” “We were consenting adults. No harm, no foul.” “You saw me at my most …” she struggled for words. Sex infused? Stupid? Exposed? The woman last night was not the woman she was. She wasn’t like that. She was a poised, controlled, educated scientist who spent more time looking through a microscope and monitoring lab rats than interacting with humans. “Vulnerable?” he offered, hitting the nail on the head. She swallowed hard and nodded. He turned to his computer and said, “If you were my girl, Kat, I would never have put you in that situation.” He turned back to her flashing her a fierce possessive look. “Ever.” “I believe you, but why did you really come upstairs with Evan and me?” His lips twitched before settling in a firm line. “I guess I wanted to see what kind of guy it took to snag a girl like you.” She dropped her gaze to her hands. “Not much of one, apparently.” “You were lied to.” “But I agreed to the dare! He didn’t force me.” “I’m glad you did. That was the best sex I’ve had in a long time, maybe ever.”

“Me too,” she admitted before looking up at him. “I wish you had stayed.” “You told me to go.” “I’m glad you came back.” He smiled. “Me, too.” The response unnerved her because she wanted to believe that he was a good guy, but she had a lousy track record when it came to men. “I’ll never trust another man.” “Because of one selfish bastard?” Evan wasn’t the first man to betray her. Her first love, her father, had gone to the store for a gallon of milk when she was five years old and didn’t return until she was fourteen. He’d brought a new wife and two daughters he doted on with him. Her high-school sweetheart left her for a full ride to Columbia and returned after his first spring break with his fiancé. After he told her he wasn’t the marrying type. Then there was James in medical school, who’d told her she was frigid. She’d believed him because, in her limited experience, she’d never had an orgasm. Then along came Evan. After months of his relentless pursuit, and his promise he wasn’t like other men, she relented and they became lovers. But like his predecessors, he became frustrated when she could not orgasm. Even so, Evan had been patient with her and generous in bed. And then, her heart skipped a beat—there was Simon. She’d had her first orgasm ever with him last night. “I don’t do relationships very well.” “Maybe you’ve just picked the wrong guys.” Her lids had grown heavier as the exhaustion took over. “Maybe,” she said and thought perhaps he was right. Every man in her life that she’d had a relationship with that included sex blamed her lack of orgasm on her frigidity. But the thaw had cometh with Simon. He barely had to touch her and she was flying. Snuggling into the chair, she smiled and closed her eyes. She bet a psychiatrist would have a field day with that.

When her eyes fluttered open, Katy was confused and disoriented. Early morning sunlight

peeked through the semi-drawn drapes. She glanced at the clock. Six-thirty A.M. and her flight didn’t leave until noon. The muffled sound of running water came from the bathroom. Her head pounded, her mouth was dry and she was famished. “Oh my God!” She sat up and memories of the night before immediately came flooding back. She was in Simon’s room! She was still wrapped in the robe from last night but was in the bed, under the covers. She looked at the pillows beside her and they were still fresh and plump. Her eyes traveled across the room to the large recliner with a rumpled blanket and mashed pillow sitting on it. He’d slept in a chair? As big as he was? He must be sore as hell! She noticed her yoga pants, panties, bra, tennis shoes, and a sweatshirt neatly folded on the nightstand beside her. She ran her fingers through her hair and winced at the knots and the chunks of dried vomit she’d missed. Gross. She slid from the bed, grabbed a bottle of water, and chugged it. She opened the curtains and immediately spied two sets of handcuffs on the desktop next to an empty leather shoulder holster and Simon’s laptop. Despite everything she wanted to erase from her mind, the image of her cuffed to the headboard as Simon made love to her shimmered through her. Her nipples pebbled and she wondered if he would think she was kinky. She picked them up and slid her fingertips along the cold metal. Oh the things he would do to her and she’d have no choice but to let him. And she’d want it all and more. “Have you ever been restrained?” She cried out and turned around, guiltily putting the cuffs behind her back. “That’s not what I was thinking!” She gulped as she beheld the sight before her. He only had a towel wrapped around his narrow waist. His chest was a smooth plane of contoured muscle with several intricate tattoos she’d love to trace with her fingertips. And his skin was glistening, with drops of water running lazily from his damp hair. Her gaze dropped as it followed one drop sluicing down his belly to his happy trail. Oh to be that drop of water. She blinked. Oh my, he was aroused. He didn’t make a move toward her. Her gaze rose back to his and she felt like a doe in the crosshairs. “Don’t be afraid of me, Kat. I would never hurt you.” He grinned. “I might spank you if you deserved it, and you would like that, wouldn’t you? But never hurt you.” “I’m not into bondage.”

“What about it don’t you like?” “The trust part.” “The trust part? As in hurting you?” “The physical hurting, the emotional blackmailing that can come afterward …” “I would never intentionally hurt a woman and never resort to emotional or physical blackmail to keep her under my thumb. Only a coward would resort to that kind of bullshit.” He reached out a hand to her. “Trust me.”

Chapter Nine



S he swallowed hard and shook her head. “I don’t even know you.” “Trust your instincts then.” Her instincts screamed to take wild advantage of this man before she had to leave. “I have to wash my hair, there’s stuff in it.” He stepped away from the door. She hesitated, not knowing what to do with the handcuffs, so she thrust them into his hands, ran into the bathroom, and shut the door. She leaned against it, breathing heavily. Oh dear Lord, how she just wanted to let him have his way with her. She swallowed hard and winced at the rawness of her throat. She would never forget this trip for so many reasons. She needed to get her mind off the hot captain, take a shower, wash her hair, get dressed, and forget she ever met him. As she stepped into the shower she wondered why she was showering here. Why didn’t she just get dressed and go back to her room? Once she had washed her hair, she stood beneath the warm blast of water, allowing it to sluice over her body and cleanse her skin. She wished she could cleanse her troubled soul as easily. She felt a cool draft of air and knew the door had been opened. She stood still, wondering what he was going to do. Long minutes passed before she opened her eyes and gasped. Simon stood at the opening of the walk-in shower, the towel still wrapped around his waist, offering the handcuffs to her. If she took them … Her gaze met his and she saw the fire raging in their green depths. He

wanted her as badly as she wanted him. If she took the cuffs—she would—oh hell. She would never see him again after this. No one but the two of them would know and her instinct told her she could trust this man not to harm her. “All you have to say is yes, sweetheart.” She swallowed and backed up toward the showerhead, and slowly raised her arms, crossing her wrists. “Jesus, Kat,” he said huskily, stepping into the shower. Gently, he cuffed each wrist with the one set and cuffed them to the showerhead with the other, pulling her body taut, forcing her back flush against the cool marble wall. He yanked his towel off and she caught her breath. He was swollen hard, the red head of his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. “Are you always so ready?” she breathed. He reached out and traced his fingers along hers before entwining them as he moved in and lowered his head to her lips. “Only with you.” Katy’s body shook violently beneath the warm spray of water. She’d never met a man like Simon. He was not only 100 percent testosterone driven, but he was way out of her league in the beautiful people department. She was a lab rat to his Adonis. The anticipation of what he was capable of doing to her sexually was so overwhelmingly thrilling, her stomach flip-flopped as if she were riding the Big Dipper on the Santa Cruz boardwalk. And she knew he could, would deliver. Accepting the handcuffs wasn’t about emotional trust; that was something she doubted she would ever give a man again. This was about pure, unadulterated lust. She wanted to experience that same kind of womb-shattering orgasm she had experienced when he’d been fucking her into oblivion two nights ago. She was a wanton and she had no desire save for him to take her there again. When she had what she wanted, they would say their good-byes and that would be that. If that made her bad, then she wanted to be bad to the bone. At least once in her life. While the threesome had been epically amazing, what made it that way was Simon. He was the high-water mark of her sex life to date and would most likely hold that honor until the day she died. This was the gold medal round. She’d be a fool to pass it up. He pressed his big hard body against her smaller, softer one, pushing her flush against the tile. “Katrina,” he said softly, an edge of want clinging to her name. The way he said it, all

deep and slow and sexy, conjured up long breathless nights of tumultuous lovemaking on the beach. Oh, my … “Yes, Simon,” she gasped as his teeth scraped lightly along her jugular and his tongue licked over her throat. She closed her eyes as a long low moan slipped from her lips. “Tell me what you want.” “I want you.” He chuckled low, nibbling her neck. “You have me, now what do you want to do with me?” She hung helpless, at his mercy, and he wanted to know what she wanted? She didn’t know. She’d never been asked what she liked by a man. Evan had been on a single-minded mission to get her to orgasm. Maybe because they both tried so hard, they had missed something. All along the way, she had been too inhibited to ask. The previous night had blown the top off her sexuality. She’d come so easily with Simon and then Evan right afterward, but only with Evan because she was so primed from Simon. It was all Simon. It had been amazing and if there was one thing she knew for sure—“I want you to take me to the place you took me the other night.” His eyes blazed possessively as his hands tightened around her fingers. “I told you I would never share you.” “No,” she gasped when he nibbled her chin. He had yet to touch her body with his hands and all she wanted was him all over her. “The orgasm.” Shocking herself that she admitted it, she would not take it back. She wanted what only Simon had been able to give her. “I don’t care how you do it, just take me there again.” She opened her eyes to his brilliant gaze. “Please.” His lips swooped down and took hers in a long, deep, intensely intimate kiss. Her body arched into his, her fingers tightly entwined with his. His skin branded her skin. His cock was hard and thick between them. Impatient for him, Katrina raised her legs around his waist and locked them behind his back, allowing his body to bare her weight and not the showerhead. He moaned as she rubbed herself along his thick shaft. His response to her fueled her confidence and her desire. She was so hot, so wet, and so aroused, ripples of panic flashed through her. She wanted him inside of her. Needed him inside of her. He was like a drug she had only had a taste of, and she was already addicted to the euphoric highs that came with being touched by this man.

It scared her. No, it terrified her. Their combustive chemical reaction to each other. Because after this, it was back to the real world in just a few hours. And in her real world there was no Simon. Her epic one-night followed by this one-morning stand was her last chance to be with him. To be shattered by him. To launch to a place she had never known existed. Could she handle the letdown? The inevitable craving for him that would infiltrate her waking moments as well as her dreams? She didn’t know the answer, and she didn’t care. She just wanted now to last forever. He tore his lips from hers and caught her face between his hands. His breath was as shallow and hard as hers. “Kat, I can only promise you right now.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Katrina bit back a cry of frustration. Emotion swelled painfully in her chest, catching her off guard. It was the story of her life. At least Simon was man enough to tell her the truth up front. For that alone, he stood head and shoulders above the others. Besides, it wasn’t like she could stick around for him either. “Then make right now count. Give me everything you have.” His eyes widened as a tight smile pulled at his full lips. “Then hold on, sweetheart.” “I will,” she whispered closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. His big hands slid down her neck to her shoulders, tracing slowly across the dip at her collarbone. His hips rotated in slow seductive swirls against hers, teasing and tempting. “Simon,” she moaned, hanging from the handcuffs. “Please. Fill me …” “Like this?” he asked, sliding a thick finger slow and easy into her as his lips caught a nipple and gently tugged at it. “Oh—yes, deeper,” she begged. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, rolling it around his tongue, as that big thick finger of his moved more deeply into her. He curled it upward and touched her where no man had ever touched her but him. She hissed in a sharp breath. And when he tapped against her, she nearly climbed on top of him. He grabbed her ass with his free hand and in his efforts to keep her from sliding down his waist, he dug his fingers into her cheeks. She let herself go. Throwing her head back, her legs loosened around his waist, giving him full access to her. He was so big and strong, she felt both helpless and protected in his arms.

Chapter Ten



W hen he dropped to his knees and wrapped her legs around his shoulders she cried out in surprised excitement. He was gentle as he probed her swollen folds with his tongue, lapping upward and around her clit like he had the other night. She could tell by his slow, savoring actions that he genuinely enjoyed going down on her. She thoroughly enjoyed his efforts. Even with her limited sexual experience, she knew he was good. The best. His tongue was thick, long, and talented. He used it with the precision of a surgeon, stroking, licking, spanking her hard little nub to heights where she had never gone. He held her steady with one hand and slid the other around her backside. Her hips rolled against his mouth as he ravaged her. Breathless, she hung suspended in erotic nirvana. His fingers caressed her ass cheek while he rubbed his thumb up and down the tight bud of her anal opening. It was an erogenous zone of hers that she had never known she had until Evan touched her there by mistake one night. Simon didn’t try to enter, he just stroked and applied pressure as he licked and sucked her pussy. Slowly he plundered her seam, languidly sliding his tongue into her, deeply lapping her honey, making deep satisfied sounds. He nibbled her sensitive clitoris, then flicked it with his tongue, but what he did next, suckling it gently into his blistering wet mouth and holding on to it as he flicked it with his tongue, drove her crazy. He stroked her and licked her, kissed her and coddled her. He swirled his tongue around her, devouring her inch by inch until she could no longer contain the orgasm that had been building since she woke up in his bed.

His tempo quickened as her hips picked up rhythm. He didn’t mind her wanton thrusts against his face. His hand on her ass kept her in check, and as he dug his fingers into her cheek, and sucked her clit harder between his lips, her body gushed warmth. She roughly cried out when the orgasm tore out of her, vibrating from her core to his lips. He growled against her, enjoying the way her body shattered around his mouth. Her body twisted and writhed against him, pulling hard at the restraints and showerhead. God it felt good to be at his mercy. She relished the excitement of knowing he could do anything to her sexually and she would love it. Holding her steady, Simon pushed her toward another orgasm. “Ah, Simon,” she moaned, “I can’t—it’s too much.” Her words only served to incite his lips and hands to a higher level of manipulation and pleasure. He slid his hand from her bottom and then pushed a thick finger into her convulsing body. His tongue swept back and forth across her clit, and just as she tensed for the next orgasm, he suckled her into his mouth and tapped her G-spot with a second finger. It sent her shooting to the moon. God, she wanted freedom to dig her hands into his hair—oh, God, the intensity of the orgasm rocked through her, one shock wave after another. Her body jerked and heaved against his. “Simon …” she crooned. “Simon …” He pulled away from her and all she could do was hang limp beneath the warm spray of water. He grabbed her leg and hiked her up against the tile. Wrapping her legs around his narrow waist he drove that lovely cock of his into her to the hilt. “Simon—” she hoarsely sobbed, barely able to speak his name. He filled her to capacity. Beyond sublime. He didn’t move as her pussy muscles spasmodically fisted him, pulling him deeply into her. Her hips trembled as she resisted the urge to move against him. A whimper escaped her lips. “No, no, sweetheart,” he cajoled, licking her parted lips. “Don’t move, not yet, or it will be over for us both.” Her body convulsed around his, refusing to unlock around him, and because of it, violent tremors swept through his body. He pressed his forehead against hers and with his free hand dug his fingers into her wet tangles. “Kat,” he said softly, the timbre of his voice deeper than before. “You feel so damn good.”

Involuntarily her liquid muscles flexed around him. He moaned and because neither one of them could wait another moment, he moved in her. “Oh, my, God … that feels so decadent,” she breathed, arching into him. His lips caught a nipple, and he sucked her as his hips moved back and forth, his thick hot shaft thrusting in and out of her. She was soaking wet and molten hot, the heat of their bodies steaming up the shower. He clung to her as he filled her and filled her and filled her until the imminent release inside of her exploded with such force that the showerhead ripped from the pipe from the pressure of her body’s gyrations, crashing to the shower floor. As the orgasm ripped through her, she dug her fingers into his hair, pushed his head back, and kissed him. His big body shuddered as his orgasm hit him. His raw moans of pleasure coincided with the last wave of her orgasm, and together, breathless, they crashed to earth. They sank to the shower floor, Simon still inside of her, her legs still around his waist, his long powerful arms wrapped around her tremoring body, and for long minutes as they recovered, they held each other. Katy closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his chest. His heart banged like a kettle drum against her. Hers matched it beat for beat. It was crazy lusty sex, and she wanted more. Her muscles flexed around his semi-hard erection. “I’m going to need a few minutes,” he chuckled. Heat smattered her cheeks. “I didn’t mean for you to—you know, go again.” He reached over to the corner of the shower and turned the spewing water off from the broken pipe, then pulled slightly away from her, his green gaze searching her face. He raised his brows and said, “Really? Once is enough for you?” “Um, not that I was counting, but there was more than one for me.” He grinned. “I was counting those, too, and I know.” Once again Katrina became uncomfortable with post-coital chitchat. With her previous lovers, it had inevitably, when she failed to climax, turned into a “What’s wrong with you?” lecture. Now that she had orgasmed—several times!—she was still gun-shy. Besides, she liked Simon too much to go there. There was no point in making their inevitable parting harder. “I’d love to spend the day in bed with you,” she said far more casually than she felt. “But I’m sure you have to get to work and I have a flight to catch.”

“Oh yeah, work.” He grinned, smoothing damp hair from his forehead. “I forgot all about that.” He kissed the tip of her nose, catching her completely off guard. “You’re quite the distraction, Kat. Where are you flying off to?” Um, did she tell him where she lived? Did it matter? “Home.” “Where is home?” “Does it matter?” “Yeah,” he said pulling slightly away to look directly at her. “It kind of does.” “I live in Northern California, Bay Area.” “There’re flights to the Bay Area every hour out of San Diego. Catch a later one.” “Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” she said, shifting away from him, more than cognizant of the fact they were still very much physically connected. This conversation was too intimate for something that was going to be over as soon as she dressed and walked out the door. “But I have work to get back to.” He gently lifted her from his cock. Semen flowed out of her and she groaned. Panic flashed through her, but she calmed when she remembered Simon’s comment about being clean when Evan tossed him the condom. Call her naïve, but she had believed him. She was on birth control, but still it was very irresponsible of her not to have insisted he use a condom … The reality of the details they had failed to ask shed an unattractive light on what she had just done: sport fucked a virtual stranger. Wow, call her Katy-two-night-stand. Who knew she had it in her? It didn’t feel very good. Not good at all. Craptastic actually. Scrambling to stand up, with both hands still cuffed she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself and stepped from the shower. She needed to leave because the urge to get all clingy was overwhelming. Not that she wanted to have his baby, but she wanted him to show interest in her beyond the here and now, because she liked him. A lot. Anything past right now was impossible, though. She wasn’t Barbie, and while she didn’t think Simon was shallow Ken in any way, she instinctively knew she was not the outgoing, cover girl type that she pegged as Simon’s kind of woman. If they did go past today, he would ultimately dump her for Barbie or one of her friends, and she’d back to where she always was, alone. Holding her hands out to him, she asked, “Would you please unlock me?” He stood, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist. She was sorry to say good-bye to the sight of his lovely nakedness. He was a magnificent specimen.

Reaching past her to the counter, he grabbed the small key sitting there and unlocked the cuffs. As he slid them from her, he took each wrist into his hands and gently rubbed the angry red welts. It made her uncomfortable, the silence and the caring act. She wasn’t going to linger and be asked to leave. She was pulling that trigger first. Drawing away from him, she said, “That’s okay. I need to go.”

Chapter Eleven



H e simply dropped her hands and nodded, clearly agreeing with her. As she hurried from the bathroom to her clothes, she asked as she was getting dressed, “How did my clothes get here?” “I used your room key and got them. I figured you’d rather wear something clean,” he answered from the bathroom. Thanks for the reminder. But she smiled inwardly at his thoughtfulness. Most men would have made her do the walk of shame in her soiled clothes. “Thank you.” “Does what I picked work?” he asked, coming out of the bathroom. Looking down at her tennis shoe as she tied it, she shrugged and said, “You can’t really go wrong with plain on plain.” It was true; her entire wardrobe was monochromatic. Black on black, beige on beige, white on white or gray on gray. Didn’t get more exciting than that. Simon chuckled as he rooted through his dresser. “You were anything but plain this morning.” “Stop. Please.” She was about to do the walk of shame. She didn’t need to be reminded why. “Only if you’ll have breakfast with me.” “I ah—” Suddenly she was famished. And she didn’t want to leave. “I guess I could …” She knew the minute she agreed that she shouldn’t have. It was important to her that she be the one to walk away. Having breakfast with Simon only delayed the inevitable and gave him the chance to walk away first. She was about to retract her acceptance when his cell phone rang.

To the tune of Barry Manilow’s “Mandy.” Ugh, breakup song. Her stomach did a slow, queasy roll. “Hey,” he said to the caller. “What’s up?” Katrina gathered her soiled clothes to go. His tone was familiar, caring, and—just a hair shy of guilty. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy.” He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled an awkward smile and put his finger up in a waita-minute motion. “Right now? You’re here?” He asked surprised. “Yes, of course, give me five and meet me in the lobby.” He strode past her into the bathroom. “No, don’t come up here, I’ll meet you there.” He hung up. Katy just stood frozen. Was she really the blindest female in the world? When Simon came out of the bathroom he looked like a man on a mission. He looked at her as if just realizing she was still there. “Kat, I need to take care of something, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes tops. Would you wait for me?” “I—” Hell no was on the tip of her tongue, but she knew those words would make her look like a woman scorned—which was how she felt, but had no right to feel. Secondly, it could either cause an argument or, even worse, he would just shrug and say adios. “Sure.” He smiled, finished dressing, shrugged on his shoulder holster, pulled his big gun out of the dresser drawer, tucked it into the holster, grabbed his wallet and cell, then slid on his suit coat. He turned and caught her up, bent her over his long arm and soundly kissed her. “Don’t go anywhere.” Breathless, she touched her fingertips to her lips, and stared at the door he had just gone through. Minutes later, she wondered why she was not running for her room and packing. Finally, she admitted it. She’d just had the best sex of her life and she wasn’t quite ready to admit it was over, even if he was downstairs meeting his ex-flavor of the month or current flavor of the month. So she paced as she tried to sort her feelings out, but more importantly asking herself— why she was bothering in the first place! Damn it, while she believed Simon when he said he wasn’t married, she highly doubted a stud of his caliber was unattached. Her shoulders sank. She just knew he was downstairs kissing and making up with someone just like her: an out-of-town fling. The rosy glow of the

last few hours washed away as embarrassment took full root in her psyche. Always the fool, aren’t you, Katy? Or maybe she was just overreacting? Allowing Evan’s lies to affect how she saw all men? Biting her lip, she looked around for a clue. Finally, they landed on Simon’s laptop. She shouldn’t spy, but … The laptop was in sleep mode and once she woke it up her jaw dropped. His screen saver was a picture of him with a gorgeous blonde and the cutest little girl she had ever seen. There was no mistaking it: The little girl’s brilliant green eyes were the same as Simon’s. She slammed the lid shut, grabbed her pukey clothes, shoes, and purse and ran from his room to the safety of hers. She had kicked herself over Evan because every damn sign had been there and she’d just been too ignorant to see them. With Simon, she had imagined him to be some knight in shining armor who had come to her rescue. And while there was no fantasy when it came to the sex, the reality was that it would end when she left the hotel. Believing he was not in a committed relationship with another woman, only to discover that he was just like every other guy out there, tarnished everything. She would never knowingly date a cheater. Period. She was done. Done taking sloppy seconds and done being the consolation prize. She could not pack fast enough before she was striding through the lobby. Glutton for punishment that she was, she couldn’t help glancing at the open restaurant that was serving breakfast. There she was, the blonde in the picture, clinging like a vine to Simon as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Hot tears stung her eyes as she ran from the hotel and into the waiting cab. Wanting to get home to familiar territory to lick her wounds in private, Katy took an earlier flight. On the cab ride to her apartment, she turned her cell on for the first time in days. It pinged that she had a text. No one but Evan texted her and she was not interested in anything he had to say. She turned it off. When she exited the elevator to her penthouse apartment atop a converted Neo Classic mansion in Pacific Heights, she bumped into Rosalinda Mai Ramirez Lowenstein, her best friend, and her only neighbor on the penthouse level. Rosie was an eclectic combination of Cuban, Vietnamese, Caucasian and crazy. Her husband, Elliot was a warm, and gentle Jewish

man from Brooklyn who everyone called “Supe.” “Hey, love,” Rosie squealed throwing her arms around Katy’s neck. Rosie was like a dog that way, Katy could be gone for a day or a month or in this case four days, and Rosie enthusiastically greeted her as if she had been gone for a year. “I was just checking to see if you were home yet. I have to talk to you, sweet-pea. And you’re not going to like it.” Exhaling loudly, Katy’s shoulders slumped. As if she needed more bad news. “Can’t it wait, Rosie? I’m exhausted.” Rosie cocked her head sideways making a clucking sound. She was in great shape for her age, which Rosie never divulged but Katy figured to be in the neighborhood of sixty-ish. After contemplating Katy’s request, Rosie shook her head, grabbed Katy’s elbow and guided her down the hall to her apartment door. “No can do. This info is too hot to keep the lid on.” Katy allowed herself to be half dragged half pushed toward her apartment. “Because the world will come to an end if you don’t share you gossip with me tonight.” Rosie shook her head. “I wish it were gossip.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a string of keys, inserted one into Katy’s door and pushed it open. Holding the key up, Rosie smiled. “Sleeping with the supe has its perks.” “I’ll remember that.” If it had been anyone other than Rosie, Katy would have been angry. But Rosie was like family. Katy walked through the threshold and calmness immediately infiltrated her being. She was home. Her retreat from the world. “Set your bags down, we have to talk. But you have to promise not to kill the messenger, okay?” Rosie nervously said. “I could never kill you.” “Wait until you hear this!” She pushed Katy down into the Dante chair in her circular marble floored foyer and leaned over her, tilting her chin up so they looked directly into each other’s eyes. Katy blinked. “Hear what?” “I hate to tell you this, but Evan has a wife.” Katy felt as if she had been kicked in the gut again. Not this time because she was hurt, she was over Evan, but the hurt and humiliation that went along with how and when they broke up still stung. It would for a long time. “I know.”

Rosie gasped and stood up straight. “And you kept seeing him knowing he was a cheater?” Standing Katy shook her head. “I didn’t know until two nights ago. Then I kicked him to the curb.” “I’m so sorry, sweet-pea. I really am,” Rosie soothed patting her shoulder. Katy walked through the foyer into the short hallway then into her small but highly functional gourmet kitchen and dropped her purse, cell phone and portfolio on the kitchen table, then headed for her bedroom. “How do you know?” she asked. “Eliot saw him and a blonde coming out of Kuleto’s last week while you were in New York. He watched them being all kissy-huggy-face while they waited for their car, and well, Elliot being Elliot, he wrote down the license plate number and because he has access to secured sites for tenant background checks, he ran the plates. Came up registered to a Melinda Anne Scott and Evan Dryer Scott of Menlo Park. She matched the Mrs.’s driver’s license picture.” So the blonde in the hotel room was his wife. Lucky for Evan she hadn’t shown up a day earlier. “Remind me not to break any laws around you two,” Katy dryly said but wondered, was a threesome with a cop breaking the law? Her body flushed as she thought of Simon. She hadn’t stopped thinking of him all day. “Ohhh, I know that look! Did you meet someone else already?” “I’m done with men, Rosie. I pick lousy ones. And I’m tired of getting hurt.” “You just haven’t met the right man yet, sweet-pea. Did I ever tell you how many lovers I had before I met Elliot?” “Surprisingly no,” Katy chuckled. Rosie never held back details. The more sordid the better. “I stopped counting after thirty.” “You stopped counting after thirty? Oh, my God, Rosie!” “Most of them were frogs. A few had prince potential but I never settled for any of them because I knew they weren’t the one for me. But I knew the minute Elliot walked into my restaurant he was the one. I told him so too. It took about a year before he believed me. And that was thirty-one years ago.” “I can’t believe you had sex with over thirty men!” “How else was I going to know if we were compatible? If you aren’t compatible in the bedroom, chances are you won’t be out of it.”

Katy swallowed loudly. If that was an indicator, she and Simon were soul mates. “Sex isn’t everything in a relationship, Rosie.” “If you’re not getting good sex, it ain’t. But once you have great sex, there’s no settling for less.” Then Katy was doomed to be disappointed for the rest of her life. Simon had ruined other men for her. She turned on her bedroom light and tossed her suitcase onto her bed. “We’ll talk more later, Rosie. Right now, I’m exhausted.” “You look like you’ve been crying, sweet-pea. I’m sorry about Evan. He seemed like such a nice man, although Elliot thought he was a bit of a bore.” “Elliot was right.” She hugged her friend goodnight and told her to lock up after herself. When she heard the front door open and close, Katy stripped and took a long hot shower. Afterward, as she stood naked looking at herself in the steamy mirror, she touched the small bruises along her jugular, compliments of Simon. Her body trembled, and despite her anger at him, her nipples tightened and her womb constricted with desire. God she was going to miss the crazy sex with that talented stud. She wrapped herself in a big fluffy robe. She was going to miss his warmth and his deep voice. Goose bumps erupted along her arms and chest, ending at her nipples as she heard the deep husky timbre of it in her imagination. Dragging her feet into the kitchen, she warmed a can of soup and stared at her cellphone on the table while she ate in silence. Piercing green eyes that looked past her beige exterior to her core, flashed before her. A deep-seated loneliness gripped her. She choked on a noodle. There was more to Simon, the hot cop, than met the eye, and damn if she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to get to know all of him better. Hating the fact that she kept glancing at her cellphone, Katy scolded herself. It wasn’t like Simon had her number. Even if he did, he wouldn’t call her. He had gotten what he wanted and as much as she wanted to be angry that he took what she was offering, she couldn’t stay mad because if she had it to do all over again knowing how lonely she would feel without his larger-than-life presence beside her, she would. In a heartbeat. “You’re pathetic, Katrina Winslow.” She turned on her cell, still blinking that she had a text. Her belly dropped as her brain registered the symbolism of the icon identifying the

sender of the text. It was the set of handcuffs Simon used on her. Hand shaking, she tapped the view icon. The time of the text was roughly fifteen minutes after she left the hotel that morning. It read: Did you think I’d let you get away?

You can read Simon and Kat’s complete story in THE CHRONICLES of KATRINA!

Click here to buy the book.

About the Author

N ational bestselling, award-winning author Karin Tabke isn’t just another author with steamy stories to tell, but a cop’s wife who has “seen it all and heard it all.” Some of the hottest stories come from behind the blue wall of law enforcement rather than from in front. Married to a street cop, now retired, Karin is intimate with both and proves it with her sizzling tales of hot cops. Not only are her cops hot, but so are her sexy knights and bad boy werewolves. Karin’s Blood Sword Legacy series is a must read for anyone who loves tales of yore when men were men and women were women, and love did conqueror all. Her dark, erotic Blood Moon Rising paranormal trilogy is best described as “Sons of Anarchy meets Rise of Lycans”. Her L.O.S.T. series (w/a Karin Harlow) is paranormal romantic suspense at its “chilling and sizzling”* best. You don’t want to miss any of Karin’s deliciously edgy tales of danger and passion! CONNECT WITH KARIN ONLINE: Official Website: Karintabke.com Karin’s Facebook Page Follow Karin on Twitter: @KarinTabke

Goodreads: Karin Tabke

Discover Other Titles by Karin Tabke: The Chronicles of Katrina The Dare Double Dare The Truth The Consequence The Chronicles of Katrina (Complete series, Books 1-4) Blood Moon Rising Trilogy Blood Law Bloodright Blood Vow Blood Sword Legacy Master of Surrender Master of Torment Master of Craving A Knight to Remember (Novella) Hot Cops Good Girl Gone Bad Skin Jaded Have Yourself a Naughty Little Santa Wanted Love Uncovered L.O.S.T. Writing as Karin Harlow Enemy Lover Enemy Mine Rebel Yell Rebel Rose Wicked Reads

Bad to the Bone Anthologies You’ve Got Murder What You Can’t See Italian Stallion Find all of Karin's books by clicking here.

BREAKING BAD Copyright © 2014 Karin Tabke LLC. All rights reserved. Editor: Christina Trevaskis Copy Editor: Martha Trachtenberg Cover Design & Interior Layout Design: VMC Art & Design, LLC This book is an original publication of Karin Tabke LLC This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission from the copyright owner. ISBN: 978-0-9881879-5-5

THE DARE Copyright © 2013 Karin Tabke LLC. All rights reserved. Editor: Christina Trevaskis Copy Editor: Martha Trachtenberg and Karen Matheny Cover Design & Ebook Production: VMC Art & Design, LLC This book is an original publication of Karin Tabke LLC This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission from the copyright owner. ISBN- 978-0-9881879-1-7