Chapter 11
Matt
Pulling up outside Sienna’s, I spot the extra car parked beside hers in the driveway. Jumping out of my truck, I listen for voices, or any noises at all, as I head for the door. I have tried calling three times since I got off my shift, each one going straight to voicemail. Every text I have sent has gone unanswered. Part of me says not to worry. The other, the piece that runs on instinct, is amped up beyond max capacity and demands answers.
It doesn’t help that the case building against Jimmy took an unexpected turn. One that doesn’t help Sienna, Briggs, or anyone else for that matter. It only complicates the entire clusterfuck that seems to keep growing the more we dig.
“Sienna?” I shout, hitting the bell. After what feels like the longest two minutes of my goddamn life, and no reply, I turn the knob. “Goddammit,” I growl when it clicks and opens.
“Sienna?” Stepping inside, I scan the entryway that is only lit by the light from the stairs. Closing the door behind me, I flip the clasp on my gun, but leave it in my holster. “Babe?”
Stepping into the living room, I spot her curled into a ball on the floor, next to an empty baking pan. Rushing to her side, I take a knee and roll her to her back. “Hey,” I say softly, brushing the stray hair from her face. “You okay?”
She has changed her clothes since I saw her earlier, Instead of the little yellow dress she had on earlier, she now has on an old t-shirt and a pair of tiny black shorts that stretch over her ass like a second skin. Her hair is pulled up on top of her head in some kind of messy looking knot, held in place by what looks like a pair of chopsticks.
“Mhm,” she breathes. Relief fills me as a lazy smile spreads across her face. “What seems to be the problem, Officer?”
“Funny,” I chuckle, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Looks like you’ve had an interesting night.”
“Kels brought dinner,” she explains, slurring her words a bit. Sitting up, she keeps her eyes closed, but points in the direction of the snoring lump of blanket on the couch, which I assume is her friend, Kelsie. “Then, the bitch kicked me off the couch.”
“Been drinking?” I ask, arching a brow when her eyes flutter open to meet mine.
“Meh,” she replies, shrugging a shoulder. “There may have been wine. Only one or two,” she adds, holding up three fingers.
“Glasses?” I ask, taking in her glazed eyes and flushed skin.
“Bottles,” she corrects me.
“That explains a lot,” I mutter, hoisting her into my arms. “Let’s go, babe.”
“Oh!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I’m not resisting,” she giggles, shifting in my arms. “Unless you want me to.”
Her giggle makes my cock hard. Fuck. “I’m taking you up to bed,” I inform her, tightening my grip as I move through the house, only stopping to lock the front door. “You need to sleep.”
“Mhm,” she purrs skeptically. Pressing her face into my neck, she brushes her lips over my skin. “You drove all the way over here to tuck me in.”
“Drove my ass here because you didn’t answer your phone,” I explain, my hand sliding down to grip her ass when she shifts against me again. A small moan leaves her lips, causing me to bite back one of my own. The sounds she makes when I touch her are enough to make my dick rip his way through my pants and take her right here on the stairs. I shake my head at the thought. “This isn’t about sex. It’s about me checking on you. Now that I know you’re okay, I’m putting your ass to bed. To sleep.”
“I’m seriously the guy in this relationship,” she mutters under her breath.
“What?”
Her lips leave my neck and I instantly miss their softness and warmth. Blinking slowly, she meets my eyes. “I hit on you at a club, based on the way you were dressed. Groped you shamelessly, while throwing cheesy ass lines.” She narrows her eyes when I chuckle. “I was the rude, drunk asshole that every woman tries her damnedest to avoid when out. Then, instead of having the serious conversation, and apologizing for being the rude, drunk asshole, I handed you a big box filled with chocolate as a distraction.”
“Don’t forget about choosing barbecue and beer over pasta and candlelight,” I remind her, amused as hell by the unexpected turn in our conversation.
“Exactly,” she huffs, rolling her eyes. “Now, you’re clam-jamming me when I’m trying to get in your pants.”
“Clam-jamming?” I ask, unable to keep from laughing.
“Yes,” she counters, arching a brow.
“Is that the technical term?”
“You’re an ass,” she replies, pressing her lips into a hard line.
“And you’re fuckin’ adorable.”
Entering her bedroom, I lie her back on the pillows before tugging the black and silver quilt up over her body. If she keeps this playful shit up much longer, it is going to become very hard to stick to my guns and not fuck her senseless right now. I want her terribly. More than I can remember wanting anyone. Which is insane. Who in their right fucking mind craves the touch, the taste, of someone this fast? I have spent the entire day struggling with this very idea and trying to rack my brain for some simple explanation. I have yet to find anything that doesn’t make me sound as certifiably crazy as my Pop.
The fact that I did think twice before bolting from a crime scene the moment I knew she had gone out the back door doesn’t help in the reassurance of my own sanity. Hell, my goddamn heart didn’t stop racing until I knew she was safe. And even then, the thought of wrapping her in my arms and making damn sure that my claim on her was crystal fucking clear in front of Jimmy was brewing in the forefront of my mind.
“How’s Briggs?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Driving McKnight out of his mind,” I smirk, thinking back to all the hell that little woman was putting him through while he was processing her into lockup. “Not that it takes much to do that.” Kicking out of my shoes, I begin stripping out of my gear and uniform. Sliding into bed beside her, I pull her body close. Without missing a beat, Sienna throws an arm and a leg over my body.
“That’s good.” Sighing contently, she presses her cheek to my chest and closes her eyes. “I’m glad she has something to pass the time while I’m out here, wrangling her evil, ice cream throwing, devil pussy.”
“Her what?” I ask, my fingers running slowly up and down her hip.
“Bob.” Sienna says, scrunching her nose in disgust. “Her cat. Evil little bastard has it out for me.”
“Ah,” I nod, though she can’t see me do it.
“Matt?”
“Hmm?”
“You really going to ignore this?” she asks, her thigh brushing over my aching cock.
Fuck me.
Pulling back, I tip up her chin and brush my lips over hers in a soft, chaste kiss. One that leaves me wanting. Aching. Needing more in ways I can’t begin to describe to her, or myself. “Fuckin’ tryin’, babe.” Tugging the chopsticks free from her hair, I toss them to the nightstand before pressing my nose into her hair. Breathing her in, I start naming off states and capitals in my head to get my mind off the how good it would feel to bury myself between her thighs. It isn’t until her breathing evens out, and I know she’s asleep, that I close my eyes and allow myself to finally crash too.