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But before I allowed her to take her plate, I wanted a kiss.
She met my gaze and I saw strength of will staring back at me.
It was sexy as hell. She could've told me to fuck off, that she'd given me enough.
But she didn't.
She kissed me.
Hard.
On her terms.
And I nearly busted a nut right there in my kitchen.
She broke the kiss first. I could’ve kissed her for much longer.
The balance of power felt tilted. As if everything had just tipped on its axis and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I gave my power to no one.
I took a bite of steak and grunted with satisfaction. I was weak as a kitten and I need to power up.
But I wanted to talk to her, too. She intrigued me. Against my better judgment (why start using good sense now?) I pressed her for details.
“Before you get your panties twisted…don’t take this the wrong way. Why are you doing all this for your brother? You have to know that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you do for him.”
I was trespassing on personal ground but I didn’t care. It made me prickly that Ivy was so loyal to such a shitbag such as Frankie.
She deserved better — and yes, I recognized the irony of that statement coming from me.
I expected a ‘fuck off’ glare but she surprised me with an answer. ”Frankie didn't always used to be this way. He used to be my big brother, always looking out for me like a big brother should."
"Drugs will turn a person inside out and backwards; he's not the brother you used to know. Not anymore."
She met my gaze with unflinching strength.
As it turned out, I wasn't the only one with questions this night.
"Tell me why you leveraged your career for one night of sex."
I shrugged, uncomfortable. I’d been asking myself the same damn question since I stepped off that cliff. "Too long in deep cover, I guess,” I admitted around a hot bite.
"How long were you in?"
"Six months."
"Just to take down my brother?"
"Naww, your brother is small-time. I wanted the distributor."
"Did you get him?"
"No."
“Are you going to keep trying?”
“Probably,” I answered bluntly.
“I know Frankie deals with dangerous people. On more than one occasion he’s told me to stop asking questions. He said it was too dangerous for me to be caught snooping around.”
“He’s right. The people he works for don’t mess around. You ought to follow his advice and steer clear. Better yet, lose Frankie, too. He’s going to bring you down.”
"Are you going to keep coming after Frankie?" she asked.
I wasn’t going to lie. “Unless he proves useful in some other way.”
"What if he's trying to change?"
"He won't."
She frowned. "He might."
"And unicorns might fly out my ass when I fart."
"That's gross."
"And just as improbable. Your brother, like any fart can be, is toxic and likely to smell up the place just by popping out. Do yourself a favor and cut bait. That piece of shit is going to ruin you."
"Funny advice coming from the man who propositioned me to get what he wanted."
I didn’t care if I sounded like a hypocrite. "It is, what it is, baby girl."
Ivy made a sound of disgust, irritated. “Spare me your patronizing hypocrisy and leave my brother out of things.”
I jerked a nod, agreeing but there was an edge to my gaze as I pulled her roughly onto my lap. "Good reminder that we're not going to ride off into the sunset together. You're a hot piece of ass and I'm going to enjoy every second of fucking you but once you step over that threshold, you're on your own."
"Good. As if I would chase after you for a date or something," she said hotly, blinking back tears.
I wiped away the tiny tear that’d escaped. "Glad we got that out of the way," I murmured, reaching beneath her shirt to squeeze her breasts. "You know, you have the best tits I've ever seen. Like a porn star’s only real.”
"Charming." She glared, removing my hands as she climbed from my lap. "On that note...I think I'll say goodbye."
"Keep the shirt," I said, surprising her.
She hesitated and glanced down at the faded rock tee. I half expected her to throw it at me but she nodded and gathered her things.
I hated watching her leave but a part of me was relieved.
There was some confusing shit going on in my head.
I was thinking like a chick.
Needy.
Wanting.
If I listened to the insistent voice in my head, I would be tying her to my bed so I could fuck her a half dozen more times but that was crazy talk.
Hell, at this point, the poor girl probably was sore as fuck.
I’d definitely ridden that virgin pussy hard.
I walked her to the door, lazily leaning against the doorjamb.
“You'll hold up your end of the bargain?" she asked, holding me to the deal.
I nodded. One thing I didn’t do was break my word. Unless it was to dirtbags. Then, I could give a shit.
She released a shaky breath. "Good. I guess that's it, then. I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again."
“You never know.”
But just as her hand reached for the door handle, I pulled her into my arms, sealing my mouth to hers in a kiss that stole her breath, reminded her that something wild throbbed between us — something dangerous — and it was all I could do to turn her loose.
Our kiss, deep and commanding, was everything a kiss between lovers should be.
Tender.
Ravenous.
Insatiable.
In an instant, I was teased with the drugging desire to feel her just one more time, a traitorous voice begged — but I shut it down with ruthless force even as I broke the kiss and released her.
Her lips, glistening from my kiss, trembled as she said, “Don't forget our deal."
A small smirk lifted the corners of my lips.
“Stay sweet, baby girl."
Never look back, Ivy.
And then she was gone.
I watched as her taillights disappeared fr
om the quiet neighborhood, the early morning still dark as pitch.
This was the time when the criminals came out to play.
When people were supposed to be sleeping.
I exhaled, shoving my hands in my jean pockets, still not quite sure what was happening to me.
Ivy Callen.
I wanted her back already.
Maybe it was time to dig a little deeper into the Callen family history…see what I could find to put away her shitbag brother for good.
One thing was for sure, I wasn’t going to let anything happen to Ivy.
Even if she didn’t want my help.
She was going to get it.
Jameson
I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
By her, I meant Ivy.
There was something about her that refused to leave my brain. I dreamed about her skin, the way she moaned, the scent of her sweet pussy.
I’ve never been the kind to fixate on any woman.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m more comfortable with the soulless encounters that are more about getting off and letting out steam than anything emotional or deep.
But Ivy…was under my skin.
It’d been days since she’d been in my bed, beneath me, but I was thinking of nothing else.
I didn’t even notice the general din of the precinct, which usually drove me fucking batty after months of intense undercover work because my head was so preoccupied.
I didn’t know what was going on with me but I knew it wasn’t good.
My partner, Hank Grogan, dropped into the chair next to mine and stared me down.
“What’s your deal? You coming down with the flu or something?” he asked.
I scowled. “No. Why?”
“Because your head is somewhere else when it should be on our fucked up case.”
Ah, that. Yeah, my thoughts should be on that problem.
Maybe that was why I was focused on Ivy because if I was too busy thinking about her, I couldn’t obsess about how we’d ended up with absolute nothing after a six month under cover stint.
“Captain’s chewing nails on this one,” Hank said, stating what I already knew. “We shouldn’t have busted Frankie Callen early.”
“It was all we had,” I growled, irritated that it was my decision to pull the trigger on Frankie and it’d backfired. “I thought Frankie would lead us to the person in charge.”
