Starts With a Bang (Redemption Ridge #7)

Chapter Two

Dom

R eaching into my pocket, I removed my key fob and unlocked the vehicle. The headlights flashed on, but instead of going to the driver’s door, I detoured around to the passenger side. I turned to face Stevie. No. Not Stevie. Sven. Maybe if I repeated it often enough, I could forget he was Kerry’s little brother. Sven had stopped several feet away, and my headlights illuminated his perfect body. I hadn’t been able to get him out of my mind all night. Other guys had flirted with me, but they weren’t him. Sven.

What I was about to do was wrong, but I could worry about it later. I grabbed the handle on the minivan’s rear door and slid it open. Sven was right. We were consenting adults and didn’t need Kerry’s permission. What had he meant about Sven not learning his lesson from past mistakes? It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I noticed Sven hadn’t budged from his spot. I forced my gaze up to his face and registered his hesitant expression.

“Why a minivan?” Sven asked.

I saw our interaction in a new light and admired Sven’s self-preservation. I was a virtual stranger who wanted to lure him into the back of my sketchy vehicle in a dark parking lot. “It’s convenient for my work.”

Sven took a few tentative steps closer. “So, no car seats or soccer ball hazards I need to be concerned about?”

“No kids,” I said.

“Good to know.” Sven edged a little closer. “What about tarps, duct tape, and rope?”

I laughed for what seemed like the first time in months. “I’m not a serial killer either.”

“Phew.” Sven strode forward until he reached the open door. He squinted his cobalt-blue eyes and scrutinized the minivan’s dark interior. “No lights?”

“I disabled them.” Realizing how bad that sounded, I added, “I’m a private detective.” I gestured to the white van. “It’s nondescript, fits in everywhere, and lets me blend in during surveillance. Dome lights will make me stand out like a sore thumb during nighttime stakeouts.”

Sven pursed his lips and nodded. “Makes sense.” He reached inside the van and rested his hand on a captain’s chair. “How far back do these seats recline?”

“Climb on in and let’s find out.”

“Said the spider to the fly.” And Sven walked into my web.

I climbed in after him and closed the door before leaning between the front seats to start the engine. The sexy idiot wasn’t wearing a coat and had to be freezing. I wanted him warm and pliant and—

Sven’s mouth landed on mine before my ass hit the seat, and I forgot all about the temperatures and ethical decisions. The only thing that mattered was the way Sven made me come alive. The disabled dome lights and dimmed dashboard lights worked out well for investigations, but their absence sucked when two grown-ass men were trying to undress without getting hurt. Sven’s knee landed precariously close to my groin when he tried to remove his jeans.

“Ouch. Watch the goods.”

“I’m sorry.” His hands landed on my body, and I forgot about the near miss.

I nearly head-butted Sven when I leaned forward to shuck my jeans and underwear to my thighs.

“Whew, that was a close call,” he teased. “I’d hate to explain a concussion at the family dinner on Sunday.”

“Sorry,” I replied. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

His lips miraculously found mine in the dark and silenced my protest. Oh, hell yeah. We were going to do this.

My biggest gripe was that the tinted windows muted the moonlight, so I couldn’t see much of Sven’s gorgeous body. Just the idea of holding him in my arms was enough to rev my engine into high gear. By tacit agreement, I ended up with my bare ass on the seat with my pants down around my ankles and my Henley rucked up under my armpits while Sven finished stripping off his jeans.

“Leave your sweater on.” I didn’t recognize the thick voice as my own, and the command caught me by surprise too. Sure, I’d noted how soft the sweater looked, but I hadn’t fantasized about feeling it against my skin. Now, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Warm hands rested on my knees, and Sven leaned down to kiss me. I thought he’d meant it to be quick, but I cupped the back of his neck to hold him close. I licked the seam of his lips, and he opened for me as he climbed onto my lap. I fumbled with the buttons on the side of the chair until the armrests lowered, paving the way for him to fully straddle my thighs. Sven’s dick pressed against mine, and a chorus of moans filled the van’s interior. I gripped his ass with both hands, holding him tightly to my body.

“Not going anywhere,” Sven whispered against my mouth. “I need a little room to work my magic.”

I wanted to protest, but I relaxed my grip. I had to know what he meant by working his magic. In the next breath, Sven rolled his hips, and I knew. Hallelujah. I saw the light. Or I would have if my eyes hadn’t rolled back into my head. Sven used his body to trap our dicks and rub them together. I didn’t need illumination to know he moved with fluid grace. I could feel it in every fiber of my being. Lush lips met mine and teased them open. His tongue licked into my mouth in a dominant display that made me whimper for more.

My sex drive had been a desolate wasteland for many months, and I’d felt the first embers of arousal low in my belly when my gaze landed on Sven. His kisses at the bar ignited the cinders into flames so high that Kerry’s interruption hadn’t fully doused them. And now, with Sven tongue-fucking my mouth and grinding me into ecstasy, the inferno threatened to become a five-alarm fire.

I wanted to slow time and enjoy this longer, but my body had other ideas. My heavy balls tightened, and the familiar tingling in my spine spread. I broke the kiss to beg him to slow down, but the only thing that escaped was a needy whimper that revved Sven higher. I tightened my grip on his ass cheeks, and a fingertip brushed over his hole. Sven bucked in surprise, growled savagely, and rubbed my cock just right. Fireworks exploded inside me, and I shot my load all over Sven’s dick and my stomach.

“Christ, that’s so sexy,” Sven growled.

He recaptured my mouth in a hungry kiss and rubbed frantically against my oversensitive cock. I massaged his hole, pressing harder the faster he rutted against me until my fingertip breached him. Sven’s breath hitched in my mouth, and I kissed him through his orgasm. He splattered all over my chest and stomach before breaking our kiss and collapsing against me. Sven’s breath puffed against my neck, and I wrapped both arms around him. I think I even knew then that I was holding on to something rare and precious, but Kerry had been right about my state of mind. I was the epitome of the walking wounded, and Sven apparently had a sketchy history with guys like me. He deserved better.

“I can already feel you pulling away from me,” Sven said into my neck. “I was hoping this would be the appetizer in a long night of indulgent feasting.” He placed a kiss just beneath my ear, and I shivered. “Come home with me.”

I’d never been more tempted to do anything in my life, but guilt was already moving in. “I can’t.”

Sven heaved a sigh and sat up. I missed his body heat already, but I wouldn’t pull him back down into my arms. “Are you sure? Your hands still have a death grip on my ass.”

And my fingertip was still in his hole. I eased it free and forced myself to release him.

“Damn it,” Sven said. “Should’ve kept my mouth shut until after our wedding.”

I snorted at his tenacity. Marrying me was the last thing on his mind, but my ego appreciated the boost. I couldn’t resist pulling him down for one last kiss. And if I parted my lips and lingered longer, no one could blame me. Sven saw that as permission to explore my body, and I let him, forgetting to be ashamed of the extra weight I’d gained. When I ended the kiss, Sven sat up but didn’t move from my lap.

“The way you smell should be a crime.”

I would’ve been offended if not for the dreamy quality to his voice. “And how do I smell?”

“Like leather and expensive bourbon. What cologne is that?”

I shrugged. “Something I found when I packed my stuff to move. Must’ve been a gift from someone because I don’t ever buy myself cologne.” Putting it on had been an impulse, and I was glad I’d surrendered to it. “I can’t smell half as good as you do.”

Sven sat up, and my fingers reflexively tightened on his hips to keep him close. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” I kissed the pulse point on his neck and felt its rapid fluttering beneath my lips. “You smell like tangled sheets and sin.” I took another whiff. “And me.”

“Oh, I like that.” Sven ran his fingertips over my bristly chin, then lower to caress my chest. “God, you’re so sexy. You’ve got more body hair than a cub but not enough to be called a bear. What’s the stage in between?”

“No clue,” I said.

“You’re so damn sexy. I want to rub against you like a cat.”

My grip on my control was tenuous at best. I’d already betrayed my best friend after rutting with his brother in my seedy van. One slipup was bad enough, but anything more was unforgivable. My silence was the only reaction Sven needed. He pushed off me with another heavy sigh.

Sometimes I practically lived out of the van, so I had paper towels and wet wipes on hand. I leaned forward and snagged my phone from my jeans and turned on the flashlight to help us see. Sven arched a brow when I handed him items to clean up with.

“Stakeouts, remember?”

His lips quirked into a half smile. “Uh-huh. It’s your shagging wagon, and there’s no shame.”

“I assure you this is the first time I’ve gotten off in this van.” But I’d bought the vehicle used, so there was no telling what had gone on in here before then. The thought spurred me to clean up faster and pull my pants on.

Sven had already returned to perfection by the time I’d tugged my Henley back down. He’d even slid his feet into his calf boots and plopped down into the seat beside mine. “What else do you keep in here for your stakeouts?” He lifted the console between our seats and sucked in a breath when he found my cache of snacks. “I don’t know the last time I ate.”

“How’s that possible?”

“Turn the lights off if you’re going to scowl at me like that. I don’t have an eating disorder. I ate breakfast, but my day got away from me, and I don’t think I’ve eaten since.”

Stress had that effect on some people, but I fell into the group of emotional eaters. I’d gained an easy twenty pounds since moving out of the house I shared with my husband. I turned off the flashlight and blinked until my eyes adjusted to the dark.

“Help yourself to anything you want,” I said.

“Anything?” If a voice had eyebrows, Sven’s would waggle them.

“Food,” I said. “Behave yourself, or I’ll have to toss you out.” And it was the last thing I wanted to do. I spent my days and nights solving cases that involved assholes and cheaters. Sven was a breath of fresh air, even without the mind-blowing orgasm.

“Fine.” A chip bag rattled beside me, followed by crunching and moaning. “Cheez-Its are still the king of snacks.”

“But which variety is best?” I asked.

The crunching stopped, and I wasn’t sure if Sven had swallowed or paused chewing to consider the question. After a few seconds, the crunching resumed. I fumbled around in the dark and grabbed a snack without looking. I’d packed the stash, so my choice would naturally be something I liked, but sometimes I preferred salty over sweet snacks. Ripping open the bag, I sniffed my prize to see what I’d chosen. I’d plucked the perfect treat because the miniature peanut butter sandwich cookies were both a little salty and sweet. I popped one in my mouth and chewed, thinking the night couldn’t get any better.

I received an explosive orgasm from the sexiest man I’d ever seen, though I should probably be ashamed of how quickly I came. But Sven had been just as horny and had lasted only a little longer. And guilt should’ve ridden my conscience hard, but I was too content to fret about Kerry’s opinion at the moment. I could wrestle those demons alone in my shitty apartment later. I had wonderful company and cookies to keep the loneliness at bay.

“Traditional cheese but extra toasty,” Sven finally said. “I hate the white cheddar ones with the intensity of a thousand suns, but I do like some of the duo options.” And here I’d thought he couldn’t be any more perfect.

“Mmmm. The duo with the bacon and cheddar crackers is my favorite.”

“Marry me,” Sven said. “Right now. Let’s go to Vegas.”

My sharp inhale sucked cookie crumbs down the wrong pipe, and I started to cough.

“Oh no!” Sven cried. “Do not choke to death in here. How will we explain it? Thank goodness your jeans aren’t still around your ankles.”

I wheezed and swallowed hard so I could speak. “I won’t be explaining anything if I’m dead.”

“Oh fuck! That’s right. At least my cousin is the sheriff in this county. That should save me from wearing prison orange.” He shuddered hard enough to shake the van. “I look terrible in that color.”

His outrage made me laugh, which made me cough harder.

“Surely, you have drinks in your shagging wagon.”

“Cooler,” I gasped. “Behind the seat.”

Sven brushed against my shoulder as he leaned between the captain’s chairs. He cursed a blue streak as he fumbled around for the cooler, which I found both adorable and amusing. I wasn’t on the verge of blacking out. I just had an irritating tickle in my throat. This happened to me more often than I wanted to admit. Eating too fast and laughing too hard had always brought it on, though the latter trigger hadn’t been an issue for several months. Hell, tonight might’ve been the first time I laughed in a year or more.

“Found it!” Sven exclaimed. He threw open the lid and then cursed some more. “Juice boxes?” The incredulous tone in his voice turned my dry cough into laughter. “You’ll die before I can penetrate the hole.” He snickered and continued digging through the cooler. “That sounded kind of dirty.”

I cleared my throat. “And I’ll probably juice myself before I can get the straw to my mouth.”

Sven stilled. “Are we still talking about drinks?”

The gathering heat in my belly said we weren’t. “Yep,” I lied. “I usually squeeze the box too hard and end up wearing half the contents. I rarely buy them, and that’s probably why they’re the only thing left in my cooler. Time to restock my stakeout supplies.”

I turned on my phone’s flashlight and held the device over my head to assist Sven, even though the coughing fit had nearly subsided on its own.

“Aha! There’s one mini water at the bottom.”

I turned the phone off and set it on the console between us once he returned to his seat. He opened the bottle and passed it to me.

“You need some LED candles in here or something,” Sven said. “Mood lighting.”

“Despite how this looks, I don’t really live out of the van. And I’ve never invited a guy back here for a hookup.” I took a long drink, downing half the bottle in one go. The cool water soothed my dry, itchy throat, and I could breathe without the urge to cough. I recapped the bottle and dropped it down in the drink holder. “Thank you for the assist.”

“Even though I caused you to choke?” Sven asked.

“You just caught me off guard.”

“I hear that a lot.” Sven packed both innuendo and wry self-deprecation in those five words. “I don’t even remember what I’d said to rile you up.”

“You asked me to marry you,” I replied. “You wanted to go to Vegas.”

“Ahhh. That would do it.” Sven snickered. “Especially since you’re technically still married.”

The reminder was a kick in the balls. The contentment I’d felt before my coughing fit vanished in a poof, and the emotions I hadn’t wanted to feel rushed in. An awkward silence blanketed the van, and neither of us moved or spoke for several moments.

Sven heaved a dejected sigh. “Well, I went and ruined everything.”

“You didn’t.” Without considering the consequences, I reached over the console and covered his hand. Sven rotated his wrist and slid his fingers through mine. “You just moved the inevitable conclusion closer, perhaps.”

Sven squeezed my hand. “This part?”

I sighed and released him. “No, the part where we say goodbye.”

“Or we could talk about whatever is troubling you,” Sven suggested. “I’m a good listener.”

I turned my head in his direction, even though I couldn’t see him. “You want to hear me whine about my shitty marriage and the resulting divorce?”

“If it would make you feel better,” he replied.

“You’ve already accomplished that.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come so hard. Or so fast. “Unless you want to talk about your bad habit of picking up the walking wounded.”

Sven groaned. “Hard pass.” Then he sighed. “Can we be friends?”

I recalled the feel of his body against mine, the taste of his kiss, and the way he went wild when I brushed a finger over his hole. The embers of desire threatened to fan into flames again, giving me only one choice. “I don’t think so.”

He sighed again and reached for my phone on the console. He tapped the screen, illuminating the van. Sven had the audacity to look amazing in the blue light coming from the device. I should resent him, but I only wanted to pull him closer. He passed the phone to me. “Unlock it so I can enter my contact information.”

“Why?” I asked.

“In case you change your mind about us being friends.”

“I won’t.” Though I unlocked the phone and handed it to him.

Sven’s smile in the blue light was downright devious. “You will.” He tapped and typed for longer than the task allowed.

“Are you snooping?”

Sven snorted. “Nope. I just sent a text from your phone to mine so I’ll have your number too.”

“Not a good idea.”

“Fine.” Sven swiped his finger over my screen, then handed it back to me. “I deleted the text, so you’ll have to scroll through your contacts to find me.”

“ S for Sven.”

He shook his head. “Too easy.”

“ H for Hellcat?”

“No again.”

I threw up my hands. Fatigue was moving in, and I needed sleep. “It doesn’t matter because I won’t be using it, anyway.”

The light went off on my phone, pitching the van back into darkness. I heard Sven move before I clocked his proximity. His lush lips landed on mine, and I sucked in a breath. Luckily, I didn’t start coughing again. I searched for the fortitude to pull back, but my chivalry wasn’t required. Sven kept the kiss brief, but his fingers lingered on my bristly jaw.

“So long, Dom.”

“Goodbye,” I replied.

Sven fumbled for the handle and slid the door open. Then he stepped into the night and closed me in the van. I climbed over the front seats and dropped behind the steering wheel but didn’t start the engine until Sven made it to his car. My PI brain noted the year, make, model, and his license plate when he drove by. I had no intention of memorizing the information or using it to learn more about the mesmerizing man.

I was also determined not to search my phone for the contact he’d buried in there, but my resolve there only lasted a few weeks. I blamed my weakness on my melancholy mood. The trip to my parents’ house in Arizona for Thanksgiving was supposed to boost my spirits, and it had, but the dopamine hit hadn’t lasted.

When I found the name Sven had chosen for his contact, I broke into one of my laughing-coughing-wheezing fits and was mostly glad Sven wasn’t there to witness my humiliation.