18. EIGHTEEN
EIGHTEEN
GARRETT
Cory started the truck and backed out of my parents’ driveway, confusion and excitement warring in her eyes. By the time we’d reached the highway, the tension in the cab was charged, and I watched her as she drove. Yes, she was physically beautiful, and I found everything she did incredibly sexy, but my attraction for her had seeded itself far deeper than that. Seeing her with my family, seeing her joke and helping my mom in the kitchen, had me realizing that the most stunning aspects of the woman beside me were all the parts she kept hidden from the world behind that tough exterior. She was crème br?lée in human form, and I was dying to have her.
The lights of the highway faded in the distance as we exited, turning onto the back roads that would lead us out toward her house. She glanced over at me again like she had a few times since we left, and I couldn’t take it any longer. Flipping the back of the middle seat up, I slid across until my thigh was pressed up against hers. I draped one arm over her shoulders, and put my other hand on her thigh where my fingers traced the lines of the colorful tattoos decorating her smooth skin.
“Cory,” I murmured into her neck, the lavender mint scent of her hair imprinting itself somewhere deep inside me.
“Uh huh?” Nervous anticipation made her voice a few octaves higher.
I chuckled and placed a firm kiss over her racing pulse, slowly sliding the hand on her thigh higher. Her breath hitched in her lungs. She was so responsive and I hadn’t even really touched her yet. At least, not the way I was desperate to.
“Are you a good driver?” I asked, toying with the edge of her panties.
Her answer came out breathy. “The best.”
“Good.” I kissed her neck again, then sucked the skin beneath her ear between my teeth and bit down. “Then put both your hands on the steering wheel and don’t move them until I tell you to.”
I pushed her panties aside and swirled my middle finger in the wetness that pooled at her entrance before plunging it into her pussy.
She slapped her other hand onto the wheel, gripping it tightly as the truck accelerated abruptly. Her desperate moans filled the cab as I slid my thumb back and forth over her clit, those needy little sounds going straight to my cock which strained against my jeans.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” I groaned and added another finger, watching as her mouth popped open in an “O.”
The lights on the dash and the occasional headlights of a passing car illuminated her face as she rode my fingers. She was beautiful. This feisty, smart-mouthed woman had ensnared me—mind, body, and soul, and I had no intentions on trying to escape.
I kissed my way down the slope of her neck to the generous swells of her breasts, before freeing them from her sundress.
I lowered my head and froze at the twin bars sparkling through the pink buds of her nipples.
“You got them pierced.” My groan sounded feral even to my ears.
She smirked. “Mhm.”
“When?”
“After the wedding.”
“Fuck me,” I growled.
Her laughter turned to needy cries as I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, my tongue toying with the cool metal bar before pinching her nipple gently between my teeth.
“Oh, holy shit.” She panted.
Her walls clenched down around my fingers as I increased my pace, thumb stroking the tight bud of nerves at her apex over and over until she was gasping and grinding against my hand.
We were only a couple of streets away from her house, and I wanted us stationary when she came. This was reckless enough as it was. I slowed my movements, and she let out a groan that was part sob.
“No, don’t stop.”
“You can beg better than that,” I growled against her breast, pumping my fingers in and out of her at a torturous rate.
“Please, Garrett. Please. Please,” she whimpered, throwing the truck a little aggressively into park in her driveway.
I resumed a punishing pace that had her squirming against my hand for only a moment before her legs locked around my wrist, and her release coated my fingers.
Neither of us moved for a moment, our breaths and the idling engine the only noise. Then I removed my fingers from her pussy and sucked them into my mouth, her spiced sweetness coating my tongue.
She groaned, tossing her head back against the headrest. “Why is that so hot?”
I chuckled, fixing her dress so that her breasts were once again covered, then clasped her chin in my hand and turned her face toward me so I could press my lips to hers.
She leaned in and deepened the kiss, her tongue exploring my mouth leisurely, and I brought my hand up to cradle the back of her head. She moaned into my mouth and I swallowed it, dragging her closer to me still. This kiss was nothing like how she’d kissed me the night before. This was unhurried and content, and something about the slow slide of our lips had my skin heating.
I was getting lost in her when she pulled back.
“You got a thing for making out in your truck?” Her tone was playful.
“I’ve got a thing for making out with you, period. The truck is just a coincidence, I promise.
She shook her head. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“I swear! I’m not impartial to making out in other places. I’ll prove it to you next time. We won’t go near any vehicles.” I lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“Can next time be when we get inside?” Her eyes were alight with mischief, and I wanted to see what kind of mischief she had in mind, but it would have to wait for another night.
“I wish it could, but I’ve got work in the morning.”
“Sleep here.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You and I both know damn well that if I get into bed with you, neither one of us is sleeping. No amount of pillows is going to help, not now that I’ve gotten a taste of you.” I leaned in and kissed her, nipping at her bottom lip.
“You are such a tease.”
“I’m not teasing. I fully intend on delivering, just maybe in three to five business days.” I winked at her, my pants still uncomfortably tight and exited the cab.
I needed a cold shower.
She met me a moment later and we walked hand-in-hand to the front door. The porch light casted shadows across her face, making her cheekbones sharper, her lips fuller, her eyes brighter.
Slowly, I brushed my mouth against hers, savoring the feeling of the warm silkiness of her lips against mine.
“Goodnight, Cory,” I murmured .
She smiled, stepping back. “Goodnight. Drive safely.”
“I will.”
I started walking back down the steps, already regretting my decision to leave, when she called out, “Hey, Gar-Bear!”
Spinning around, I snapped my hand out and caught the flash of hot pink she tossed at me. I knew before I even looked down that it was her underwear.
“A little something for later.” She winked and closed the door behind her.
I clenched the lacey fabric in my hand.
Correction: not cold. Freezing. A freezing shower.
***
Not staying at Cory’s had been a good call because Boston woke up with a hard-on for trouble. We were call-to-call for most of my shift, and it wasn’t until the last hour that I was able to stop and eat anything, and even then I had to discard the last few bites of my burrito to respond to a domestic assault. The utter disrespect some people held for other human beings, especially the ones they claimed to care for, never ceased to disgust me.
With twenty minutes left to my shift, I headed back to the station to write the four reports I was behind on. I’d have to stay late to finish them, but I knew that was likely going to be the outcome for today when I had gotten my first call before I’d even gotten into a cruiser.
I headed straight to the offices, hoping to get at least one written before roll call .
“Hey, Adler!” a voice called from the break room as I passed by.
I backed up the few paces to the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb. Detective Levine and another detective who, if I was being honest, I didn’t know the name of, sat at a table.
“What’s up?”
“You know that kid who came in with his mother a couple of weeks ago about the tattoo shop?”
My heart leaped into my throat, anxiety flooding through me. Cory had said she never tattooed him, and I trusted her, but there was always the possibility he used a fake, or that one of the other artists did it.
I tried my best not to let my voice betray my interest in what he was going to tell me. “Yeah, Elijah, right?”
“I looked into it. Turns out the boy and his mom were lying.”
Tension left my body in a wave. I wanted to simultaneously collapse into a chair and run around the room victory shouting at the top of my lungs. But then another thought occurred to me.
“Why would they file a false police report? That’s a misdemeanor. It’s a fine, at least, if not jail time.”
Did the mom not know her son was lying about where he’d gotten the tattoo from? Did they not know there were consequences for lying on a police report? Did they know and just not care because they had something against Cory? And that was when an idea hit me.
Levine shrugged. “Shit if I know. I just thought I’d let you know since you were the one who took their report. I’ve got to write up the criminal complaint and submit it to the court.”
“Hey, just a thought. Maybe look into a guy named Alex Barnes.” I reached into my pocket for the notebook I kept with information from all the calls I responded to. Ripping out the paper with the information Cory gave me, I slid it across the table to him.
“Why? What’s he got to do with anything?” Levine’s brows knitted together. He no doubt wanted to wash his hands of this until Mrs. Simmons’ court date. But if someone was after Cory, I wanted them stopped.
“Maybe nothing, but back at her grand opening in July he popped in for a tattoo from Cory, thinking she was a guy. When he found out she was a girl, I guess he threw a fit. Dude’s a sexist ass. Anyway, a little while later, we got called out to her shop for a noise complaint. I assume it was him. If she pissed him off badly enough, maybe he convinced the Simmons’ to say it was her?”
Levine nodded and took the paper. “I’ll look into it. Could be something, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up; it seems like a bit of a stretch. Regardless, I’m going to call Miss Eastwood tonight before I leave and give her the update that she’s all good.”
I backed away from the table, slapping the doorjamb with my hand. “Good!” I cleared my throat and tried to sound less enthusiastic. “That’s good. I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear it. ”
The run-down, weighted feeling I’d been carrying from the day’s business lifted, and I headed back to the computers with renewed energy. The sooner I finished typing the last of my reports, the sooner I could get the hell out of there. And maybe it was the good news Levine delivered, but I actually managed to finish all of them before roll call.
Cory’s name popped up on my phone as I was leaving the station, and I caught myself smiling like an idiot as I crossed the parking lot.
I didn’t even have time to properly greet her when she was screaming down the line.
“I didn’t do it! Detective Levine just called and said he proved it wasn’t me!”
I chuckled as I started my truck, my phone connecting to bluetooth. “I know.”
“How do you know? Wait, nevermind. That’s a dumb question. You work together.”
“It’s not a dumb question. Detectives and officers don’t really mingle all that often, just in scenarios like this. He stopped me on my way to finish some work and filled me in, since I was the one who took the statement.”
“Ah, gotcha.” She paused for a moment, and I could tell she had more to say, so I waited her out. “He mentioned he was going to look into Alex, the douchebag from DelINKquent’s opening. Do you really think he’s behind this?”
I shook my head and shrugged before remembering that she couldn’t see me. “I don’t know what to think. It’s possible; I mean, you said you really pissed him off. ”
She sighed. “Yeah, I guess, but this seems a little dramatic. The noise complaint I could see because he was a little bitch, but getting someone to lie to the cops about me tattooing a seventeen-year-old kid? I don’t know. I can’t imagine I pissed him off that badly.”
“Levine will investigate him. He’ll likely deny all of it, which, unless Elijah admits that Alex put him up to it, will mean there’s nothing more we can do, but maybe the cops breathing down his neck will make him back off.” I didn’t say the alternative ending to that sentence, afraid speaking it into existence could somehow jinx her.
But she did.
“Or it’ll make him angrier.”
“Or it’ll make him angrier,” I echo solemnly.