Dirty Law

Law lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around him. He curled his hands around me tighter and started backing us into the bedroom.

“No,” I said when I realized where we were headed. Law immediately stopped. “Not in there.” I still couldn’t sleep in the bedroom, not after Morris. Maybe I never would. I quickly kissed Law to let him know I still wanted to continue.

“I’ll fuck you against the wall, Dandelion,” Law growled against my lips. “But I think you deserve better than that.”

“The couch,” I said. Law raised a brow but carried me over to my ratty couch. It was old, I’d gotten it off the side of the road, but it was mine and it hadn’t been tainted by Morris. The few nice blankets I’d gotten at an outlet store were draped over the side. Plush and warm, they had been Raskol’s favorite place to sleep.

Still carrying me, Law picked up one of the blankets and threw it on the couch. He laid me down before climbing on top. Flashbacks of Morris’s big, hulking body suffocating me came out of nowhere. I started to hyperventilate and squirm. Quickly Law got off of me.

“I can’t…” I said between breaths. “I can’t be on bottom.”

As if it were the most normal thing in the world for a woman to freak out like that, Law simply pulled me onto his lap. The way I straddled him had his cock begging for entrance.

It wasn’t his cock that had me gasping and head high, though. It was his intense stare. It was the way he grasped my head between his hands, locking me into that honey gaze. It was the way he gently stroked my hair, making me feel loved. It was the way he made me feel safe. Even before Morris, I had never felt so cherished.

“Are you ready?” Law asked, sliding his hands from my hair to my sides. I nodded. “Say it, Nami.”

“I’m ready,” I said. Did that breathy voice belong to me? Slowly I guided Law inside of me. He was so big I felt like I was being torn open. At my pained face, Law slid out, but I gripped his shoulders and demanded he go back inside.

The pain was better than the emptiness.

When Law refused, I kissed him hard on the mouth. I used my tongue to argue my point. I used my lips to plead my case. I needed him inside me. At last Law ceded and entered me. The pain only lasted for a moment that time and when he was fully ensconced, it felt like I’d been holding my breath for months and could finally breathe.

“Dandelion…” I rolled over into Law’s arms, his skin warm and sweaty. I felt inexplicably safe as he called me by the nickname we’d shared before we knew our real identities.

“Tell me about your work,” I asked, lifting my head onto my elbow.

“I worked in the FBI human trafficking division—”

“No, tell me,” I said, cutting him off.

“Well, what do you want to know?” Law sat up a bit straighter and the blankets we’d used fell down, exposing his chest. I was momentarily distracted by the hard packs of muscle, forgetting his question.

I placed my hand on his chest and asked, “Why did you go into sex trafficking?”

“I graduated head of my class. I like challenges. Human trafficking was a challenging specialization.” I frowned at his reply. He hadn’t even looked me in the eye when he responded and his tone was cold and distant. I didn’t buy his explanation for a minute. I was about to call him out when he leaned down and pulled me closer.

“Promise me you’ll call Jameson?” Law asked, his voice a breath against my ear.

“The journalist?” I questioned. My words were slurred as I got caught up in the feel of Law again. “Now?”

“No.” Law bit my ear, stretching the lobe with his teeth. “Not now, but soon.”

“I don’t know…” I resisted. Even if Law did recommend Jameson, he was still the press.

“Nami…” Law slowly licked from the base of my collarbone and back up to my ear. His warm kisses lulled me into complacency.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll do it.” Playfully I pushed away from Law, situating myself on his chest. He’d won this argument, but that was all he was going to get from me for now. Truthfully, I would lose again and again if it meant he would kiss me with the same adoration, but that was a secret better kept close.

“Where’s Raskol?” The question was innocent enough. Law had no way of knowing the tearing hurt he’d just released in my chest. I tried to dismount and crawl away, but Law held me firmly, his fingers digging into my thighs. “Nami?” Law pressed. “Where is Raskol?”

“He’s dead.” The words felt like slugs in my mouth. “Morris killed him—or may as well have. He had his right arm, Becca Riley, do it.” Minutes passed where neither of us said a word. Law held me, stroking my back, and I allowed myself to be comforted. I allowed myself to feel sorrow.

I’d felt nothing save guilt the past week. Sorrow is for people who deserve to be sad. Comfort is for those with the right to feel better. I didn’t grant myself either, because Raskol’s death was on me. Riley may have murdered him, but it was my fault he was in that situation in the first place. Still, lying with Law, I allowed myself a bit of sorrow and a bit of comfort.

As the hour passed, I even allowed myself to forget.

“Nami?” Law asked.