Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Deanna
I t’s late. The kids are in bed. I’m watching some “reality” dating show on TV that is about the furthest thing from real life I can imagine. Of course, there's a lot of shit in my real life that is pretty unimaginable. Like riding a hot cop in the front seat of his truck like we were in some low-budget, straight to cable, soft-porn .
I can feel my face heating at the memory. But I’m not ashamed of it. I don’t have one single regret… well, except that it didn’t go further. Next time, I vow. Next time.
I pick up Addie’s toys. Normally, I’d make her do it. But she was extra tired tonight. The poor kid was asleep on her feet, so I sent her to bed. I’m almost finished with the task when the doorbell rings. I walk over to the door, not saying a word. I’m smarter than that. If I say something, and it’s someone on the other side with bad intentions, I’ve told them exactly where I’m at. But when I peer through the peephole, I can’t help the thrill that runs through me.
Luke is on the other side of the door. In his uniform. I never thought I’d have a thing for cops. Most of the time, I don’t. But maybe I just have a thing for this cop because I like the look of him in anything.
Undoing the deadbolt and the security chain, I open the door. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
He sighs. “Joe.”
I roll my eyes even as I cross my arms over my chest. I hate that just hearing the name of anyone in that family can make me feel off—the old fear just comes rushing back. “What did he do now?”
“Speeding, reckless driving, wanton endangerment, fleeing and evading.” He runs down the list. “And that’s all separate from the shit he was already wanted for.”
“He’s bad news, Luke. Bad in ways that even Kyle couldn’t manage. Be careful. Please?”
He nods, then reaches into his pocket. “Speaking of being careful… this is for you.”
I look down at the little leather case he slipped into my hand. It’s full-on Barbie-pink pepper spray. There are even sequins on it.
“How did you buy that with a straight face?” I ask with a laugh.
“Oh, I took some serious shit for it,” he says with a grin.
God, that grin just turns me inside out. “Are you still on shift?”
“Technically,” he says. “For another fourteen minutes. But we’re not approved for any overtime right now, so all my paperwork will wait ’til tomorrow.”
I look down at the pepper spray. It’s sweet, thoughtful. A little militant. But I like that he worries about keeping me safe. I don’t know the last time someone did. “You want to come in for a while?”
“Is that okay? The kids and all,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.
I laugh. “Malcolm is never here. He’s either working his part-time job, spending the night with JT in his much cooler house with his much cooler parents, or he’s with his girlfriend. And Addie was so tired she practically fell asleep standing up.”
Luke nods and I step back, giving him room to get inside. He closes the door behind him, and without hesitating he pulls me against him, kissing me like he’s starved for me. It’s not like we hadn’t just had our hands all over one another the night before. And even though we didn’t technically have sex, both of us definitely found what we were looking for. Does any of that matter? Not a single damn bit. The second I saw him, my whole body just went liquid.
“My bedroom door locks,” I whisper. “Come on.”
I don’t even give him a chance to say no or think about it. I take him by the hand and pull him down the hallway. Luckily Malcolm’s room is between mine and Addie’s, and he won’t be back tonight. We’ll still need to be quiet, but it’s definitely workable.
When the bedroom door closes behind us, he flips the lock. Then he just scoops me up and carries me back to the bed. My robe is slipping off my shoulders, falling to the floor.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers.
When he says that, his low-pitched voice shivering over my skin, I feel it. I feel pretty and sexy and all those things I haven’t felt in so long. But I don’t want to think about the past or why my self-esteem was in the toilet for so long. The truth is, I don’t want to think at all. So, I place one hand on either side of his head and pull his face down to mine, kissing him with all the pent-up hunger, frustration, desire—everything.
I reach for the buttons of his shirt, slipping them free one by one. Underneath is the bulletproof vest. Before I can get too much in my head about what that represents, he’s stripping it off. His white T-shirt is next. The utility belt with his gun and holster goes on top of the chest, well out of reach.
By the time we get to the bed, we’re both naked. I try not to think about the fact that the only other man who has seen me like this is Kyle. And the occasional ER doctor who had to put me back together. But Luke doesn’t criticize. He doesn’t tell me my boobs are too small, my ass is too big, I have too many stretch marks or scars, or my belly will never be fully flat ever again. He just touches me with a kind of gentleness and reverence that I thought only existed in books and movies. This… this is too good for real life.
He maneuvers me back on the bed. But he doesn’t come down on top of me. He’s kneeling over me like we’ve got all the time in the world. Then he’s kissing me—my neck, my shoulders, the hardened peaks of my nipples. But he doesn’t stop there. He just works his way down, going lower and lower. I can feel his breath fanning over me.
“You don’t have to.”
He looks up at me. “Oh, but I do, Dee. I’m tired of having to imagine what you taste like.”
When he puts his mouth on me, the whole world just goes dim. I can hardly breathe as the rush of sensation swamps over me, taking me down to this place that is nothing but instinct. Instinct that has me arching my back to give him greater access, opening myself to him so completely it would, if I had a second to even think about it, probably terrify me.
But there’s no thinking. Just feeling. Just riding the waves of pleasure to their inevitable conclusion.
The orgasm is deep and intense, leaving me quaking on the bed with him above me. There’s a question in his eyes, unspoken. But I know what he’s asking. So I nod. This isn’t going to be just making out. Or even getting one another off. I’m giving him everything. Every last part of myself. And the only thing that scares me is just how right that feels.