Epilogue
Brent looked up from the explosives and demolitions handbook he’d been studying, smiling when he heard Hayden’s keys jingle outside the front door of her town house. Knowing she expected him to be waiting on the other side filled him with a now-familiar sense of calm. The way they’d come to depend on each other, trust each other, never failed to humble him. Every night she walked through the front door, searching for him with those beautiful eyes, felt like the first time. But he wanted tonight to be special.
She walked in a second later, looking polished and professional in her black skirt and heels. Stockings, as well. Always the damn stockings. Six months earlier, she’d gone to work for her father’s firm, reinvigorating the charity branch with a determination he’d come to expect and admire in her. Turns out, his girl was a straight-up shark, bringing in donors left and right, not only for the Clear Air program, but new charities she’d initiated in the company name. Those nights, when she came over, all flushed with pleasure after landing a new sizable donation…God, he looked forward to those nights. He looked forward to every night with her, but being the recipient of all that passion humbled him. In addition to turning him on like nobody’s business.
Yes, she might dress the part of a corporate player, but he knew the girl just beneath the cool surface. The girl who made him laugh, surprised him every day…the girl who kept him awake at night thinking of ways to make her happy. They spent most evenings at his place in Queens. She’d become a permanent fixture at dinner and on the weekends. He’d started dropping hints months ago that he wanted her there permanently. First, he’d given her keys, with a mini high-heel keychain. Then he’d asked for Laurie’s help redecorating to make the house more “chick-friendly.” Not only for Hayden, but because his sister Lucy was due home in a week from graduate school. Finally, he’d asked Hayden one night as they were cooking dinner and she’d promised to think about it.
When he’d arrived at her place tonight, he’d seen the appraisal of her town house from the Realtor pinned to her refrigerator. Her simple but effective way of telling him yes. He’d been thankful to be alone in that moment. No sense in letting her know what a sap he turned into.
Until now, her town house had been mostly reserved for hot, stolen lunch hours when they could both swing it. That’s when, thanks to their new appreciation for role-play, things tended to get kinky. His pulse tripped over itself in anticipation. He’d come to her place tonight since she’d been forced to work through her lunch hour today. He was simply too impatient to wait the forty-five minutes it took her to get to Queens.
Their eyes met across the living room and he watched Hayden go soft, her body relax, as she saw him, making his heart pound even harder. True to her word, she worried about him. At first, he’d thought it unnecessary, but damn if he didn’t love the way she breathed a sigh of relief every day when she saw him. She set her briefcase down on the kitchen table and removed her jacket. When she started toward him, he shook his head.
“Uh-uh. Stay right there.”
Brent had the pleasure of watching awareness leap into her gaze, her chest rising and falling with soft breaths as she watched him approach. When he slipped the handcuffs from his pocket and let them dangle between them, she wet her lips, eyes seeming to momentarily lose focus. He loved having that effect on her. “What did I do, Officer?”
“I’ll tell you when I’m damn well ready.” The second he had her within reaching distance, he spun her around until she faced the table. Then in a move guaranteed make her damp, he reached beneath the hem of her skirt and shoved her knees wide. Without an ounce of gentleness. Slapping the cuffs onto her wrists, he savored her aroused whimper, letting it go to his head and elevate him to that incredible place only Hayden could. He leaned over her back to breathe his words against her ear. “Did you really have to work through lunch? Or did you just want to make me wait? Make me suffer?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His deep laugh coincided with her shiver. “Oh no?” Brent curled his fingers under the material of her skirt and dragged it up slowly, over her smooth ass, unable to wait a second longer to reveal her sexy backside. He pushed her upper body forward until her cheek rested on the table and he could savor the sight of her bent over in front of him. Beautiful flesh greeted him at the tops of her stockings; the swath of black material running between her thighs caused his erection to press painfully against his zipper. He held her still, looking his fill until she started to writhe, then he unzipped his pants with one hand, communicating with a tightening of his hold that she wasn’t to move. When he’d finally freed himself with a relieved groan, he ran a knuckle up the center of her panties.
“I don’t mind waiting for it, baby. In fact, I love it.” He tugged her panties down her legs. “It means you want to be fucked twice as hard.”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Please, Officer. As hard as you can.”
Brent began to sweat. Jesus, she knew exactly what to say to make him crazed to be inside her. Still, as much as he loved the game, he wanted to see his Hayden. Needed to connect with her in that indescribable way. Especially tonight.
He gently turned her around and planted her ass on the kitchen table. Looking her in the eye, watching her read his mind, he sank two fingers deep inside her.
She sucked in a breath. “Hello to you, too.”
His mouth took hers in a long, wet kiss, rife with promises. “I’m feeling a little impatient, duchess,” he said against her mouth. “Are you wet enough or do you want my tongue?”
In response, she parted her thighs in welcome, her hot gaze on his arousal, as if imagining how she would touch him if her hands were free. But they weren’t. Which turned them both on even more. Brent yanked her closer to the edge of the table, not bothering to settle between her legs, but rocking against her as soon as he made contact. Automatically they circled his waist and squeezed, urging him to move faster. Their moans echoed in the silent room. “You’re impatient, too. I feel your thighs shaking around my hips already.”
“Maybe I’m cold.”
“You’re never anything but fucking hot.”
Hayden’s mouth beckoned to him, begging for a long, wet kiss. Brent accommodated her, groaning as her high heels dug into the flesh of his ass as he worked himself against her core. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my day?” she asked breathlessly. He mumbled an incoherent response into her mouth. “I landed a new account at work. You know what that means.”
Brent pulled back, his lips curling into a smile. He watched her closely, loving the way her mouth parted in pleasure as he picked her up off the table and sank back onto a dining room chair. When the position drove him even deeper, they both moaned, Hayden beginning to roll her hips immediately. Knowing he was seconds from being ridden hard and rendered speechless, Brent took one last pull off her mouth and said the words that had been racing through his head for weeks. “Hayden.” He waited until her eyes focused on him. “Marry me, baby.”
For a moment that seemed to stretch for eternity, she looked stunned and out of breath. “You wait until I’m cuffed to propose?”
He ran unsteady hands up her smooth thighs. “When have we ever done anything the conventional way?”
“Never. Thank God.” The corners of her lips edged up, hips beginning to move once more in a devastating rhythm. “Now ask me again. Nicely.”
He surged up from the chair, and Hayden’s gasp of surprise tasted sweet on his tongue as he strode toward the bedroom. “You forgot who’s wearing the cuffs, duchess.”
Find out where it all began in
Protecting What’s His
the first book in the Line of Duty series
She’s running from the law, and the law wants her bad.
The opportunity was just too damn delicious for Ginger Peet to pass up. The purse full of money she finds—$50,000 to be exact—could give her and her teen sister the new start they need. So she grabs the cash, her gothy sibling, and their life-sized statue of Dolly Parton, and blows outta Nashville in a cloud of dust. Chicago, here we come…
Turns out, Chicago has some pretty hot cops. Hot, intense, naughty-lookin’ cops like Derek Tyler, who looks like he could eat a girl up and leave her begging for more. And more. Tempting as he is, getting involved with the sexy homicide lieutenant next door poses a teensy problem for a gal who’s on the lam. But one thing is certain—Derek’s onto her, and he wants more than just a taste.
And as far as he’s concerned, possession is nine-tenths of the law.