Page 58 of Hooked on Trouble

“Rose and I have a lot of catching up to do. Would you mind if we cut our night short?” Her words barely make it past her pinched lips.

I glance again at Rose, who seems pleased, then nod to Raven. “No problem.”

But her flared nostrils are definitely a problem.

I try to help with the dishes, but Raven doesn’t give an inch. She pulls open the front door and waits for me. I tip my head to Rose, holding eye contact until she looks away, then I follow Raven outside.

At my truck, she swivels around and pokes my chest. “What the fuck was that?”

I rub my neck. “What?”

“What?” She gawks at me like I asked the sum of one plus one. “That inquisition you held at my table. All that was missing were a set of floodlights and instruments of torture.”

“I’m just curious.”

She makes a gravelly sound. “Don’t bullshit me. That was Constable Makai in there, not my boyfriend.”

I glance at her bare feet. Her black polish is chipped on her big toes, the curve of her right ankle pink from where I nipped it last night. Without her boots on, she’s smaller. More vulnerable. I lift her by her waist, so she can rest her feet on my boots. Stand on me. Lean on me. All I want is to protect her.

I turn us so her back is pressed to my truck. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried. Have you brought up the brooch yet?”

She rests her hands on my chest. “She knew,” she says quietly. “She covered for me.”

Still so much sadness in her voice, but the news has my shoulder blades loosening. Rose endured a beating to save Raven. That took guts. Love. Traits I hope the streets haven’t stolen from her. “Sounds like she was a great sister. But I’m still going to worry about you.”

“I know. But not everyone you meet is a criminal. Rose has had a rough go of things. You say all the time that people don’t ask to live on the streets. Circumstances are often beyond their control. Why do you assume she’s different?”

I trace the frown lines between her eyes. “So much is riding on this for you. I don’t want to see you disappointed.”

Or hurt.

We’re just finding our feet together, the nights never long enough, the days apart an eternity. Everything I’ve searched for in a relationship, I’ve found with this woman. I also know what it is to be let down by family. I’ve seen the scars it leaves behind, healed but always puckered. Toughened yet raw. Nikki will never fully recover from what she went through, and I question everything she does, worried a simple night at a bar will send her spiraling backward. If Rose uses Raven and discards her, it will affect everything. Even us.

She pulls the front of my T-shirt down, exposing the enata symbol inked on my chest. She brushes her nose against it, followed by her lips. “You have to let me figure this out on my own. I know she has a history. So do I. I promise to keep my eyes open.”

I span my hands over the ship on her back and rock into her, wishing we were at my apartment. In my bed. Nothing between us. “Maybe I’m jealous.”

“Jealous?” She works her toe under the cuff of my jeans, dragging it through the hairs on my leg. “Do tell.”

Just her toe makes me crazy. I tilt forward, forcing her to look up. “I won’t get to see you as much. Won’t get to wake you up with my tongue.” Won’t get to sink into her and forget my worries. I kiss her neck, her cheek, her ear.

She trembles, a whimper escaping. “You, Constable Makai, are dangerous.”

Pretty sure she still has that backward.

She wraps her leg around mine, urging me closer. My growing hard-on presses into her belly, and my heart presses against my chest. She reaches between us and cups me, and I nearly lose my mind. We don’t kiss. We stare at each other. During sex, it’s like this between us. Each time I fill her, our eyes lock. She tries to get me moving faster, harder. And fuck, do I want to let go with this woman. It takes every bit of restraint I have to keep from slamming our hips together. But she’s so small next to me. When I’m on top, my arms caging hers and my chest hovering, my size and power are emphasized. She looks at me with want and trust, a seductive cocktail that reminds me to stay in control. Always in control. It’s a fraying wire.

I open my truck’s back door, needing some privacy to touch her. Get her off. I ease her off my boots and inch backward on the seat, curling my finger so she joins me. “Get in here. And close the door.”

She glances at her apartment, then at the parking lot, a wicked grin widening. “Have you always been this naughty?”

“Only since I met you.” I’ve enjoyed women, but the urge to please and touch and taste has never consumed me like it does with Raven. I’ve never dragged a girlfriend into the backseat of my truck. In a public area. This woman spins me like a top.

She wets her lips with her tongue, slow and sensual, then kneels on the seat. I bend my legs, too big and long for the space, and we laugh at the awkwardness, but when she shuts the door, the heat between us singes all humor. She reaches for my belt buckle, but I stop her. My behavior with Rose, the way I challenged her, was for Raven. Raven’s my priority. Even now, giving her pleasure is more important than seeking my own. Sliding down on my back, I plant my boots on the door and guide her hips closer, over my waist, past my chest, until she’s straddling my face.

Her strained “God” becomes a gasp when I push her skirt up.

And pull her hips down.