This Love Hurts (This Love Hurts 1)

My heart hammers, my pulse quickening although I don’t show it like she does. I can hide my desire so easily. I’m a bastard for even thinking about getting lost with her tonight.

I’ve seen this vulnerable woman standing only inches from me hide everything in the courtroom. I’ve seen her strong and vibrant but in front of me now, in a room full of people, the lights dimmed but the intention illuminated, she waits for me. She questions everything and I can so clearly see it.

“Right,” I say, my own needs protesting against the ease with which I sit back and the calmness in my tone. “Good luck with the trial, don’t fall asleep in there.” I leave her with a joke that doesn’t bring an ounce of humor to her eyes. Even though my gaze lands on the amber liquid as I bring the heavy glass up to my lips for a swig, the corners of her plump lips dropping are clearly seen in my periphery.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me. For years I’ve sat with temptation, joked with her and confided in her. The heat between us and the sexual tension is constant, but acting on it with all we’ve been through together would be wrong on so many levels.

“When are you going to take me home, Cody?” she says as her small hands land on the table. She leans forward, bringing a drift of her perfume and with a single glance, a peek down her blouse, exposing the smooth curves of her chest. The gold necklace she’s wearing dangles between her cleavage, swaying until I lift my gaze, staring back at hers that’s drowning in need and query.

I part my lips to answer her but she stands up straight, never breaking my gaze as she pulls her red wool coat around her shoulders and slips her black purse gracefully over her shoulder until it lands at her hip. She doesn’t back down. She’s never been so blatant, never been so clear as to what she wants.

“You want me to take you home?” I question her feigned innocence, but take another drink after. Alcohol and bad decisions taint the air between us.

“I had a really horrible week and I want someone to take me home,” she admits to me, teasingly even, taking her eyes from mine only to pretend to glance around the room for a suitable fuck.

Anger simmers with jealousy, but my own need and greed are far more prevalent.

“We’ve been friends for a while, Agent Walsh. Is that all we are? Just friends?”

The way her strength leaves her, the rawness and slight suffering that are evident in her pinched brow and tightened cords in her neck as she swallows, beg me to tell her the truth.

That I’ve wanted her from the first time I saw her.

Marcus

It’s colder in the evening, bitter cold. Of all the places we’ve been, I love this one the most. Lincoln Park is only miles away and I still remember the first time I saw her there. Going over the details of the crime, searching for answers everyone else couldn’t find. She doesn’t know how close she got and if it’s up to me she never will. She doesn’t need to be involved.

Cody Walsh though… I think if only she pushed, she’d be able to pull out every dark secret the man has. Just like tonight.

The wind brushes against my neck, leaving a pricking sensation that I tell myself has nothing to do with the way she provocatively leaned into him back at the bar. My gaze moves from the reflection of the moon against the windowpane to the soft curve of her back as she arches. His lips barely leave her skin… not even to breathe.

That’s the way I’d do it too.

Cars drive by and I don’t bother to look at them. I know they can’t see me here, motionless and bathed in the shadows from Delilah’s apartment building. She doesn’t know a damn thing about me; maybe she thinks she does, but she doesn’t. I know plenty about her, though.

Specifically, that she initially requested a different floor of this apartment building, even though this one was the only one with a vacancy on such short notice. I’m surprised she stayed and didn’t transfer apartments as soon as another came available. I waited for that transition, for the challenge of following wherever she went. The workaholic never made herself a priority. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised by it all.

But she does that to me more than anyone else. She surprises me.

Her head falls back, her lips parting and her hair laying across her shoulders then over her back as she moves. The repetitive motion is seductive, and Walsh is very much under her spell.

Her gasps aren’t heard through the double-paned windows, the gap in the curtain providing my view, but I swear I can hear her still. When her nails run along his back, right before she grips onto his shoulders, I practically feel what it would be like.