Chapter Twenty-Three
After their first round on the couch, Chris had scooped her up like she weighed nothing, carrying her into the bedroom with such ease it made her swoon.
She wasn’t a small woman, curves and all, but in his arms, she felt light, wanted.
When he laid her down like she was something precious, she wanted him even more. So, she took him.
The first time should have taken the edge off. It didn’t.
Christopher had worked his way down her body, worshiped and devoured her until she was shaking beneath him. Until she begged for mercy and shattered with a cry so loud it would have been embarrassing if only she’d cared.
It sharpened his hunger. Before she recovered, he rolled her onto her stomach, guided her hips up, and slid back into her with a low, unrestrained groan. She arched instantly, meeting him with a need she hadn’t experienced before.
His mouth found her ear. “You like this?” he murmured, voice rough and wicked.
Her answer was a breathless sound that spurred him on. He moved harder, his grip tightening as he whispered filthy promises against her skin. He took her the way she was asking to be taken. It was unapologetic, demanding, and relentless.
Now, in the soft afterglow, neither of them spoke.
They lay tangled in the sheets, her cheek resting on his chest, fingers absently tracing the rough texture of his body hair.
She could hear the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear, a comforting rhythm that grounded her in the moment. Eventually, he broke the silence.
“I like that.”
She smiled up at him, her gaze playful. “You have such a nice body, but your chest ... wow.”
He chuckled, bashful. “Me? I don’t want you figuring out how far out of my league you are.”
She pressed a kiss to his pec. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
Turning slightly, she squinted toward the bedside clock. “Ugh, it’s already after three.”
“So, just stay,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head like it was the most natural thing in the world.
How she wanted to. “I can’t. I had an awful presentation today and need to figure out how to get my stubborn client off the hook. Then, I’m celebrating my nephew’s birthday. Big deal at my house. Just like Sunday dinner, if I miss a birthday my family might disown me.”
“I doubt that.”
She met his eyes, teasing. “You wanna bet?”
“Well, if they do, I’ll take you in.” He said it like it was no big deal, but it sent her pulse racing.
She gave him a playful bite on the chest so he wouldn’t see how much the suggestion appealed to her. “I don’t know how long you could survive living with me. I can be difficult.”
“I know,” he said smoothly. She bit him again.
“Ow!”
As she laughed, Chris smiled down at her like she was joy incarnate. His hand slid into her hair, fingers gliding through the strands as he guided her up the length of his body. Their lips met again, the kiss long and slow, as if neither wanted to break the spell.
This man was her kryptonite. Her training, her sense of duty, her logic, all of it scattered the moment he touched her. She was a professional. A smart and steady up-and-coming lawyer according to some. But with him, she was just a girl enamored with a boy.
“A few more minutes,” he whispered, holding her close.
She gave in. Of course she did. Lying against his chest, she felt the weight of his solitude. This townhouse was too quiet. A few photos on the walls, but otherwise no signs of a life shared with others. It ached in her chest. He was alone and she sensed that was on purpose.
Isabela hated the next words that would come out of her mouth, but she sensed the answer tied into why he kept himself so guarded.
“Are you ever going to tell me about July ninth?” she rested her cheek back on his chest.
He sighed but didn’t say no. She tested the waters by reciting what she had discovered from her digging.
Christopher was the lead of the unit helping to issue an arrest warrant.
A teacher had reported signs of domestic violence on a child whose address matched a man with an outstanding warrant and a violated protection order.
His team was advised to stand down while negotiation tactics were attempted.
It wasn’t until shots were fired that they were given the green light.
The mother and child were killed first, before the suspect shot himself.
According to the file, they were dead before Chris’s team had even crossed the threshold.
“What the report leaves out was that I was in charge, and I acted too slow. They are dead because of my indecision. Others might frame it as protocol, but I only see failure.”
Isabela’s heart crumbled under the weight of the pain he carried. She turned his chin to face her. “Chris, there is no way you could have prevented their deaths. So many people failed them, but not you. You didn’t call the shots.”
He looked away. “I had a feeling. I could have argued for my team to breach.”
She pressed a kiss to his brow before lying back down and snuggling closer. After several long seconds, he continued.
“I made eye contact with the boy. I saw him through the back window. He was in the kitchen with his mom. He looked ... relieved to see me. Ended up not mattering.”
Well, shit. There was no arguing this. She already knew Chris had been ordered to mandatory counseling and been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder after the incident.
He held a tremendous amount of guilt, and she couldn’t change his mind for him.
But she could be there for him now, show him he was worth being cared for.
“Don’t you have a dinner to get to?” he grumbled.
“Chris.”
He released a long breath, the sound warm against her ear. “Tell me something about you. What’s your family like?”
Since he had finally opened up about the event that changed his career trajectory and started the downward spiral of his marriage, she would play along.
Allowing the detour, she said, “They’re a loud, stereotypical Puerto Rican family. Emphasis on the loud. My best friend, Lianna, says we don’t talk, we yell in harmony.”
He laughed, a deep rumble that stirred something in her.
“There aren’t a lot of Puerto Rican communities in Seattle, but when we moved here for my dad’s job, we fell in love with the Pacific Northwest.”
“What does your dad do?” he asked.
“He’s retired now, but he was an engineer with Boeing.”
“Smart runs in the family.” He kissed the top of her head.
If she hadn’t already surrendered her heart to him, she would’ve done it right then. There was something about a man who saw her brain and valued it.
“How does your family feel about you representing me?”
“It’s fine,” she responded way too fast.
“So, they hate it?”
“It’s not that simple. In our community there is a lot of anger and resentment. You are the current focus for that.” She tried to explain but she wasn’t sure she could.
Chris’s voice was full of remorse. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this, because of me. I know your family is important to you.”
“You’re important,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “What am I going to do?” she groaned, not bothering to attempt holding in her thoughts anymore.
“Already told you,” he said, brushing her hair back. “Just stay here.”
Because she wanted to accept his offer, she knew time was up. With a reluctant sigh, she sat up and pressed one last lingering kiss to his lips. “I should get dressed.”
This time, he let her go. She gathered her clothes from the living room, dressed quickly, and grabbed her bag. Chris followed her to the foyer, and she noticed he’d dressed too. Before she could open the door, he caught her wrist and turned her gently.
“Hold on. I left my keys in the kitchen.”
She raised a brow. “Where are you going?”
“Following you back to the office,” he said, like it was obvious.
“That’s really not necessary.”
“We still don’t know who’s behind this. I don’t want a repeat of Sunday.”
“Nor do I want my father’s car in a pond,” she said, dryly. “But it’s the middle of a weekday. The roads are packed. I’m going straight back to the office. The place is crawling with security.”
He watched her like he wanted to argue but then relented with a nod.
Reaching up, he stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek. His voice was low, steady. “Please be careful.”
“I will.”
“Take the threats seriously. Will you at least let me talk to you on the phone until you get there?”
Guilt stabbed her. She’d promised to check in last time, but she hadn’t because she’d been in a hospital bed. Now she understood the pit in his stomach. The helplessness.
“Here,” she said, pulling out her phone and sharing her location. “You can follow me.”
When he didn’t respond, she added. “I mean ... if you want.”
Suddenly Isabela was second-guessing if he cared that much. Only her mother and her best friends had her location. Just because they slept together didn’t mean he wanted that level of involvement in her life.
“Yes, I want. No take backs.” His smile was faint but real. Like he was surprised. “Be careful,” he said again.
“I will,” she promised, rising on her toes for a kiss so soft it made her reconsider leaving at all.
Opening the door, Isabela walked past him without putting on a show for the neighborhood, but when she reached her dad’s car, she glanced back. Chris was still standing in the doorway, watching her like she might disappear. He gave a small wave, and her heart soared.
God, she was so screwed.