Mickie
I stood at the living room window, anxiously twirling my wedding band around my finger. Dawson was supposed to be here any minute.
But why was I so nervous?
Maybe it had to do with the fact that we weren’t living together. That he was picking me up and dropping me back off at the end of the night, with no promises of sex. Making this feel like an actual date, despite the ring on my finger.
Somehow, I knew this night was important.
How things went tonight would determine where our relationship would go next. Especially since this was the first night we’d be together—on a date—since I’d declared our phase of abstinence.
Yes, tonight was critical.
And that didn’t help ease my anxiety a single bit.
“Can I play dress up too, Mommy?” Gabby asked.
Even as she asked the question, she started pulling out all her Disney princess dresses and plastic high heels.
I shot a conspiratorial look in Sage’s direction. “You’ll have to ask Sage if she wants to play.”
I knew the poor woman was needing a break from dress up, since that seemed to be the only game my daughter ever wanted to play. I still smiled when Sage glared at me, though.
“Can we, Sage?” Gabby pleaded.
“How about we play Pie in the Face?” Sage suggested.
Both of my kids’ eyes widened to the size of grapefruits. “Yeah!” they both screamed. Sage smirked at me as if to say Ha, I win! I just shrugged and said, “You’re cleaning up the mess.”
She smiled, as if relieved. “At this point, I’ll take it.”
Leo suddenly stood up and walked over to me, a shy grin forming. “You look really pretty, Mommy.”
I thought my heart was going to burst. My lower lip quivered as I fought the tears. “Thank you, sweetie.” I knelt down to squeeze him into a hug and kiss every inch of his little cheeks.
“Eww!” He wiped his arm across his face. “You’re getting cooties on me!”
I laughed and smoothed his hair out of his face just as I heard a car door shut outside. I darted back to the window to see Dawson decked out in a black tuxedo, his hair neatly combed, with a clean-shaven face. Even his shoes looked polished.
Damn. My man looked like James freaking Bond. Only better. Because James Bond had a watch with a spy camera in it.
But Dawson had handcuffs.
Why did I say we shouldn’t have sex? I couldn’t remember now. In fact, it sounded like the most idiotic idea I’d ever had.
When I opened the door, he made a noise as if all the air had whooshed out of his lungs. His hand was frozen on his tie where he’d been adjusting it, and he was standing there immobile like a marble statue. The only part of him that was moving were his eyes as they slowly raked over my body, taking in every inch.
“Holy shit,” he said on a strangled breath.
He looked at a loss for words, and damned if that didn’t make me feel like the sexiest woman on the planet. Maybe allowing Sage to take over had been a good idea.
“Yeah?” I asked, allowing my smile to break free.
His eyes finally found mine. “I—” He licked his lips. “My God, Mick. You’re stunning.”
I made a show of letting my eyes track down his body. “You’re looking pretty good yourself, Detective.”
His forehead scrunched as if he were in pain. “You know what calling me that does to me. So, if you want that dress to stay in one piece tonight, I’d refrain from it.”
The devious side of me rubbed her hands together in satisfaction.
The horny side of me was currently kicking my own ass.
I slipped my black clutch under my arm. “Duly noted.”
We kissed the kids goodbye and thanked Sage again before heading out. The car ride was a bit tension-filled. Our sexual frustrations were crackling in the air around us. I got so hot at one point I had to blast the air conditioning right in my face. I knew that if sex was off the table, we were going to have to find a way to get through this night without our pent-up desires driving us totally crazy.
When we arrived at the gala twenty minutes later, I still didn’t have an answer for how to do that.
He helped me out of the car and looped my arm through his as he led me to the entrance. “By the way,” he said, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “You know I prefer your hair down. At the end of the night, when I’m giving you your goodnight kiss, I’m going to take all those damn pins out of your hair. I’m looking forward to it, actually.”
I tutted my tongue. “You know better. No sex, remember?”
He continued to speak in a low voice even after we entered the ballroom, keeping the conversation for our ears only. “I didn’t say sex. I said a kiss. And I didn’t say where the kiss was going to be.”
I clutched his arm in a knee-jerk reaction, my belly clenching. When I peeked up at him through my lashes, the devil himself couldn’t have looked more fiendish.
“Is that so?” I asked.
Could he tell I was dying to hear the answer?
He eased my arm out from under his, and placed his hand on my lower back, pretending to guide me through the crowd. Then his hand slipped to my butt, giving it just a hint of a squeeze and drawing a small gasp from me.
He chuckled under his breath.
Oh, yeah. He could tell.
“Let’s just say that slit in your dress is going to come in real handy later,” he growled in my ear.
Son of a bitch.
When I’d told him I wanted the excitement back in our relationship and for him to put forth more effort, I should have considered how devastating he could be when he really put his mind to something. I should have recalled how many orgasms he’d given me before we’d ever had sex, back when we were dating.
I should have remembered how tempting the man was.
And how little self-control I tended to have around him.
I could feel my cheeks flush, and I had to stop myself from using my hand as a fan. I was still trying to get my reaction under control when Dawson raised his arm and waved to his partner, Kyle, who was approaching from across the room. I prayed my naughty thoughts weren’t being advertised on my face.
“Hey, Cruzes,” Kyle said in greeting. He shook hands with Dawson and leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Looking good, Mickie.”
I blushed and could practically hear Dawson roll his eyes. Kyle had always been a charmer. In fact, before he’d met his girlfriend, Christie Gamble, he’d been a veritable playboy.
“Thanks,” I replied. “You clean up pretty nicely.”
“I’ll take credit for that,” Christie said, appearing at his side with a champagne flute in her hand.
She and I stepped forward to give each other a hug. “Good to see you,” I said warmly.
I’d known her since she and Kyle started dating years ago, and I’d always been very fond of her. She seemed to be good for Kyle and vice versa. Not to mention the fact that we’d had numerous conversations over the years about dating cops, and she seemed to be able to handle the life. Not everyone could.
I wasn’t sure why Kyle still hadn’t put on a ring on it.
And judging from Christie’s behavior sometimes, I was guessing I wasn’t the only curious one.
“So, Mickie,” Kyle said, drawing my attention. “How in the hell did you get our boy here to not only shave and wear a tux, but to also get through the front door with his tie still on? Were there threats involved? Or bribery?”
Dawson grunted as I giggled. “Actually.” Dawson and I gazed at each other. His eyes were heated and darkening with every passing second. “He did that all by himself. I didn’t have to say a word.”
“Aw, is our little man finally growing up?” Kyle acted like he was wiping away a stray tear. “I’m so proud.”
Dawson lightly shoved his partner. “And as is the right of family, I’m about to kick your ass if you don’t shut it.”
Kyle laughed. “In front of God and the Commissioner? I’ll let you have the first swing, buddy.”
Inevitably, the guys’ conversation eventually turned to work. Christie rolled her eyes as we walked to our assigned table. “I’m going to need more alcohol if they spend the rest of the night talking about leads and evidence and interrogating suspects.” As she spoke, she took gulps—not sips—of her champagne.
“I hear you,” I replied.
“Maybe I should start talking about the new line of boyfriend jeans I just acquired for one of my stores and see how they react,” she said, winking at me.
I didn’t know much about her job except that she worked in the retail industry and was some kind of buyer for large companies. She seemed pretty successful at it.
“Yeah, and I’ll gross them out by describing the gaping ten-inch wound I helped stitch up yesterday,” I added.
She pretended to gag. “They’re homicide detectives. Pretty sure the only person who’d be grossed out by that is me.”
Throughout dinner, Christie and I caught up while the guys kept talking about their latest cases. I could tell she was making every effort to avoid awkward comments about mine and Dawson’s situation, which I appreciated. For one night, I wanted to pretend there wasn’t anything wrong in my universe.
Speeches were made after dinner was over, all of which were just as boring as the previous years had been. The Commissioner gave his same rote about how great our city was when everyone banded together to work as one. I was ready to chop off my ears by the end of that speech.
I thought I would die of boredom by the time the City Council members’ speeches started. That was, until I felt a hand on my thigh.
I felt Dawson scoot his chair closer to mine until he was practically sitting on top of me. His fingers inched the slit of my dress open, wider and wider until both my legs were exposed. Using more force, he pushed my crossed legs apart until they fell open under his attention. Thank God the linen tablecloth was covering up everything he was doing.
Then his hand was at my sex.
I choked on my champagne.
He had pushed my panties aside and the pads of his fingers were circling my clit. I was afraid that if I looked at him, the rest of our table would know what was going on, so I didn’t. I kept my eyes on the guy speaking from the podium. But my mind was totally, one hundred percent focused on Dawson’s fingers. The friction he was creating as he rubbed me was making me breathless. I actually had to grip the end of my chair to keep from moaning out loud.
He draped his arm across the back of my chair, leaning closer. “Think you can be quiet if I make you come?” he whispered.
Because I couldn’t verbalize a response, I gave him one tiny nod.
“If you don’t,” he continued, “everyone will know I’ve got my hand on your pussy. Everyone will know I’m getting you off right now.”
His fingers picked up their pace, putting more pressure on that little bundle of nerves. I pursed my lips and tried to squeeze my legs together for some relief. His strong hand pried them back open.
“Ah ah ah,” he chided softly. “Don’t fight me on this. I’m in control right now.” The tip of his finger entered me slowly. “You know you want to come, baby.”
For some reason, the endearment only heightened my arousal. Now, the problem wasn’t that I was breathless. Now, my breaths were coming much too fast and I thought I might hyperventilate. With every movement of his finger, I was picturing him naked above me, rutting against me. Both of us getting tangled up in the sheets.
“Christ, you’re so wet,” he said on a tortured groan. “This turning you on that much?”
I reached for his leg and dug my fingernails into his pants. He hissed out a breath, though it only seemed to spur him on. But for me, I was using him for leverage. Or at least to hold me steady. Because if I were to let go, I might have started convulsing.
“I need it,” I whispered.
His breath blew tendrils of my hair across my shoulder. “Fuck, yes. Soak my hand, Mick.”
His fingers sped up. If it had been completely silent in the room, everyone would probably have been able to hear him entering me. I couldn’t understand how he was able to appear as if he were barely moving his arm up top, while rocking my world down below. Even more, I couldn’t understand how I was able to keep my eyes open and focused straight ahead, instead of throwing my head back and screaming down the building.
“Almost…there,” I said, the sound barely even a whisper.
“Do it,” he commanded. “Let me give this to you. Right here, right now. With all these people around. Come for me.”
I’ve never orgasmed so quietly in my life.
The only sound that escaped my lips was a small whimper as pleasure slammed through me. Dawson increased the thrusts of his fingers as I rode over that crest, staying with me until I was fully sated. I clamped my legs shut like a vice to savor the delicious feeling as long as possible. There was something so hot about having to remain quiet while bursts of ecstasy exploded inside you, making your limbs tremble.
When he slowly removed his fingers from within me, I thought I would slide down the chair and melt into a puddle of goo, I was so dazed and relaxed.
“I know it wasn’t as good as what you did for me the other night,” he said, his hand caressing my shoulder. “But the night is still young.”
I narrowed my eyes, but couldn’t contain my grin. “You’re so bad.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Did you forget?”
I shrugged. “No, I didn’t forget. I’ve just…missed it.”
He looked both surprised and pleased with my answer.
The speech I hadn’t been paying a lick of attention to suddenly ended. Dawson kept his grin on his face while he clapped for the woman walking away from the podium. When the band onstage started to play a Sinatra classic, I sent up silent prayers that the speech portion of the evening was over. Couples gradually started to make their way onto the dance floor, swaying back and forth in their black-tie finery.
Dawson’s hand slid down my shoulder, taking my hand as he stood up. “Care to dance, Mrs. Cruz?” he asked.
I couldn’t have been more shocked than if he’d pulled me onto his lap and shouted, “Let’s make another baby!”
Out of all the years we’d attended this gala together, he had danced with me a total of zero times. I was used to sipping champagne and talking with the other people at our table while everyone else danced. Sure, he’d taken me salsa dancing recently, but I thought that had been some kind of anomaly. A once in a lifetime opportunity.
Now, he wanted to dance with me in front of a room full of people that he actually knew?
Because…okay!
He almost looked worried that I was about to say no. Though his face relaxed when I took his hand and rose to my feet, smiling. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Me, too,” Kyle muttered, throwing me a wink over Dawson’s shoulder as Christie smacked his arm. Dawson just sighed and led me onto the floor.
“So, does this count as being spontaneous?” he asked after pulling me into his arms.
I willingly followed as he led us around the floor. “Since I am both genuinely happy and surprised, yes. I would say this does fall under that category.” I ducked my head when I thought about what we had just done at the table. “In fact, your forte in spontaneity has vastly improved lately.”
He tipped his head to the side, eyes turning inquisitive. “And that’s what you wanted. Right?”
I remembered how lost he’d looked the night I confessed that to him. “Yes.” I stepped closer to him, pressing my breasts against his muscular chest. “This is what I’ve wanted.”
He looked so different when he smiled with a shaved face. Almost boyish. When he had his beard or goatee or even scruff, he looked dangerous when he grinned. Like he always had a dirty secret, and the rest of the world would never get to know it.
Like this, he appeared harmless.
Although I knew that was far from the truth.
“Can you think of any other spontaneous things we could do tonight?” I asked, baiting him.
His eyelids seemed to go heavy, and his jaw hardened. “I can think of a few.”
I shot him a doubtful expression. “As good as what happened at the table?”
“Better.”
Oh, I liked that.
“Follow me,” he growled and pulled me off the dance floor.
My excitement picked up with every stumbled step I took in his wake. My stilettos looked nice and everything. But they were a pain in the ass when you were frantic to find a private spot where you could ravage your husband. His hand held its firm grip on mine as he plowed through the crowd without stopping to speak to anyone.
Until Commissioner Shafter himself stepped in our path. Dawson stopped short, halting his movements.
“Detective Cruz,” the Commissioner said, shaking Dawson’s hand with an eager smile. “Good to see you again.”
“You as well, sir,” Dawson replied, and then pulled me forward to stand beside him. “I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Mickie.”
He gave me one of those two-handed handshakes. His hands were too soft, in my opinion. Not like Dawson’s calloused ones.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear.”
“The pleasure’s mine, Commissioner,” I said. “I enjoyed your speech.” Not really.
“Ah, thank you.” He slapped his hand on Dawson’s shoulder. “I bet you’re real proud of this guy, huh?”
Dawson’s hand tightened around my waist and his spine stiffened, confusing me. But I kept my focus on the other man.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said. “Proud of him for what?”
Commissioner Shafer’s brow furrowed, yet he maintained his amiable smile. “Well, for being promoted to Captain, of course. We all have high hopes for him.”
What. The. Hell.
Captain? When was Dawson promoted to Captain?
And why didn’t he think that was something I should know? The reason for his sudden mutism and rigid posture now made sense.
I pasted on a polite smile for Dawson’s benefit. I wouldn’t make a dramatic scene in front of his boss’s boss’s boss. “Absolutely,” I said. “Very proud.” I glanced up at Dawson to see a barely discernable look of worry etched into the lines of his face. “We were all so excited when he told us.”
His expression turned to one of dread.
He’d gotten my message. Good.
The Commissioner slapped his shoulder again. “Well, I’ll be eager to see what you can do,” he said to Dawson. “I’ll let you two get back to enjoying your evening.” With a final nod to me, he walked off.
We stood there in silence for several seconds before Dawson blew out a long breath and faced me. I was so angry and hurt, though, I didn’t know if I was ready to hear whatever he had to say.
“I can explain,” he said cautiously, slowly.
Because I was battling so many different emotions and couldn’t decide which one was the most rational, I just walked off.