I woke up covered in sweat and aching from hunger pains.
It took me a minute to catalog everything that was going on in my bed. Sheets were a total mess beneath me, everything was damp, and there was a tall, beautiful blonde clinging to me. I was on my back, and she was tucked up against my side with one thigh thrown over my front and locked around one of my legs. Her hand was resting on my stomach, and her face was shoved against my neck. She was also completely naked. So was I for, that matter. I’d stripped down and removed my binder during round three.
This was usually the part when I wondered what crack I’d smoked to allow another human being to sleep in my bed. It didn’t make me nervous, but it made me . . . uncomfortable. The idea of someone being this far in my space, of potentially waking up and catching me unaware, usually put me on edge. It wasn’t like I thought a hookup was going to knife me in my sleep, but I presented myself to people a certain way, and I couldn’t get myself back together if some random woke up before me. And I didn’t like that. The only people I trusted enough to catch me sleeping were the people in my squad.
Except, Mere didn’t feel like a random. And she’d seen me in all stages of undress and ruin the night before. We’d fucked three times, then she’d fumbled in the dark for the bottle of water I’d snagged from the kitchen between rounds, and finally collapsed in exhaustion, snoring softly.
I’d honestly expected to lie in the dark as she knocked out, but as soon as I’d closed my eyes, I’d been gone. My body hadn’t been that relaxed in a while. Even now, I felt rested. Disgustingly sticky and overheated, but rested. Peaceful.
I lightly ran my hand along the side of her face, smoothing sweaty hair away, and cringed at the dark bruise on her neck. Anger heated my blood, and a red streak of protectiveness boiled it, as I traced the bruise.
“Mmm.” Her eyes slid open, dark circles lining them. “Get up?”
“Nah. Go back to bed.”
“’Kay.”
She dead-ass rolled over and went right back to snoring. Not even quiet this time. I snickered and got out of bed, stretching and cracking my back, before grabbing my towel with the intent to go to the bathroom. I took one last look at her, the rounded globes of her ass, those ridiculously long legs, and had to force myself to leave the room instead of waking her up with my tongue.
The shower helped to clear my head. We’d fucked. A lot. But that had all been an attempt to get each other out of our systems or some bullshit. It hadn’t worked, since I was getting turned on just thinking about the way she’d come all over my dick after I’d put on my harness, but that had been the purpose. Even if we’d—or at least I’d—failed.
I dried off, trying to think about whether I’d wake Meredith to call the police department to update them on what she’d remembered, or do it myself, and returned to the room. She was still on her belly, face pressed into my pillow, and still snoring.
After throwing on a jersey and fresh shorts, I padded down the hall in my bare feet. I found Angel and Victor in the living room watching ESPN. They were both so tall that the room felt dwarfed with the added bulk of Victor’s muscular tattooed body, but I just jerked my chin at him instead of glaring.
“There’s food,” Angel said without looking up from the TV. “Victor got egg sandwiches from the bodega.”
“Nice. Thanks.”
“Got one for your girl too,” Victor said in that low rumble. “I’m sure she’s starving.”
Realistically, I knew they’d heard us fucking. There was no way they hadn’t. The apartment wasn’t that big, and Meredith was loud. And her loudness had made me get loud, even when I’d described a number of filthy things in increasingly filthy ways. But I’d forgotten Victor was here. Angel had no leg to stand on about sex noise. Back when he and Stephanie had been screwing on the regular, I’d pretty much heard every thrust. The time she’d first pegged him was ingrained in my brain.
“I’m sure she’ll be hungry once she wakes up,” I said.
Victor stared at me, I stared back, and Angel watched ESPN.
“I feel like I should shake your hand,” Victor said, going for a smile. “Or buy you a cigar.”
I snorted. “I’m not talking about this with you.”
“You don’t have to. I’m just saying. Damn. She must have been really—”
“Shut up, Victor,” Angel said, still scowling at whatever was flashing at him from the giant television. “Before you piss us off.”
“My bad.”
I didn’t know what was more shocking. His compliance, or the fact that he complied without a sneer. Whatever had happened in Chicago had changed him. A lot.
I found the egg sandwiches in the kitchen, grabbed two and more water, and returned to my room without any additional convo. Meredith was still asleep, so I ate my sandwich and called the number, filling them in on the knowledge that her attacker had both targeted her and called her a queerphobic slur, and the fact that she was bruised enough to probably warrant a doctor’s visit.
The cop told me the case would be assigned to an investigator today, and that Mere should expect a call if they needed her. It sounded a little too dismissive for me, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether they’d be making a bigger deal of this if it had been Ashton Townsend who’d been attacked.
Protectiveness reared up again. Where the hell was it coming from? Just yesterday, I’d been annoyed by her presence. Not just annoyed. I’d been infuriated by the constant reminder that this grown-ass woman was going to sulk and pout every time we saw each other just because I hadn’t treated her like a queen. I’d hated the entitlement. The expectation that I’d worship her. And the notion that she’d seen me as something to check off her sexual bucket list had gotten me hot in all the wrong ways.
But now . . .
I didn’t know. I didn’t know why there was a but now, but there was.
I sat on the edge of the bed next to her and shook her shoulder.
“Hey. Wake up.”
She moaned again. It sounded so close to one of her little sex sounds that my body reacted to it. Damn, she had me acting like a lust-crazed teenager. My mouth pulled to the side as I walked my fingers up her spine.
“Meredith. Wake up before I shove my fingers in your ass.”
Her lips curled up in a wicked smile. “Is that supposed to scare me? I love anal.”
“Of course you do.”
Her eyes slit open. “Was that judgment?”
“No. A complete lack of surprise.”
“Hmmm.” Mere eyeballed me for a minute before she rolled onto her back. She was completely unselfconscious about her nudity. “You should get one of those double penetration deals for your harness. I’d lose my fucking mind.”
Christ, this woman woke up with filth on the brain. Heat spread through me at the mental image she’d put in my head.
“I thought we were out of each other’s systems,” I said, shifting on the bed. “We tried pretty hard to make that happen last night.”
That cupid’s bow mouth turned down, and the wings of her brows snapped together. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Was that not the purpose?”
The sheets crumpled in her fists and that flush climbed her skin. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, looking hurt and mortified.
“Can I use your shower? I’ll go after that. I’m not riding the train to Manhattan smelling like sex.”
I frowned. “Meredith.”
“What?” Her voice was sharp as she fussed with her hair, trying to tie it back in a tangled knot. “Whatever, I’ll just call a Lyft.”
The combination of her taut back, the bruises, and the hurt in her voice prompted me to grab her hand and tug her back to the bed. I expected her to resist, to sulk and stomp and storm out dramatically, but she didn’t. She let me pull her down to the bed beside me, and looked at me with apprehension.
“I said we’d tried to get each other out of our systems. Not that it worked.”
Relief slumped her shoulders. She groaned and threw herself back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. “Holy fuck, T. You’ve totally bewitched me. I’m not even kidding. I’m like . . . a mess when it comes to you.”
Instead of answering, I shoved her sandwich at her. She peeked up at me, then sat up to eat, still naked.
“I know you don’t want to hear it,” she said around a mouthful of bread, egg, and cheese, “but this isn’t just a sexual fixation. The idea of you dismissing me again made me feel like bursting into tears. It was ridiculous. I’m so sprung.”
She was watching me closely as she waited for a—likely negative—response. I didn’t rise to the occasion. Instead, I traced the bruises on her arms. They were shaped like handprints and fingertips.
“Do you think I’m weird?” she pressed. “Because I like you so much?”
“Yeah.”
Mere glared at me. “Well, I think you’re weird for not liking me. I’m attractive, smart, I smell good—”
I snorted.
“I’m a good kisser, I’m amazing in bed, and I have my own job and house. Also, I’m already friends with a bunch of your friends. I’m such a good catch.”
“Are you done campaigning?”
“No. Not until you tell me why you don’t like me.”
She looked so serious and determined, that I couldn’t help another fond smile. She scowled in response, and I leaned in to brush our lips together. Mere immediately hummed and parted her lips for some tongue, and I wasn’t strong enough to deny her, although I ended it after only a moment.
“You want honesty?” I asked against her lips.
“Yes. Brutalize me.”
Shaking my head, I sat back on the bed. “Fine. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the QFindr cruise. I thought you were gorgeous and sexy, and I loved that you didn’t follow the dress code at those stupid dinners.” Mere’s brows flew up, but I kept talking. “Usually I’m fine without sex for long periods of time, but I went home and found a blonde chick to screw just to satisfy my craving for you.”
“I—” She shook her head slowly, seeming to have trouble coming to grips with this information. “Did it work?”
“Hell no. Not until I got you on that table at the photoshoot, months later. And right after, you pulled that bullshit about bragging to your friends about fucking the Marine.”
Mere’s face reddened. “I was just being dumb. I didn’t know what to say.”
“You always have something to say.”
“But not to you! I was a disaster, and you were calm and cool and wouldn’t even speak to me.”
“Because you’re not my type,” I countered. “You just seemed like some spoiled rich white girl who had nothing in common with me.”
Her face was starting to resemble a cherry. “Is that not still the case?”
“Maybe it is, but at least I got to see other sides of you.” Pausing, I thought back to the night before and even this morning. “You’re way stronger than I assumed you were, brave enough to go through some shit like that and be honest about how scared you were. How you didn’t want to be alone. You may think that made you look weak, but I seriously can’t stand people who have too much pride to ask for help.” She was still giving me that skeptical little pout, so I chucked her chin. “Put it to you like this, ma—I like that you say what you mean. I think you’re smart and funny. You don’t give a shit about what other people think. You made me smile, for fuck’s sake, so, yeah, safe to say I like you better now than I did twenty-four hours ago.”
Mere pulled the sheet up to her chest, staring at me from the mess of her tangled hair.
“But if you go back to all of that taunting and cocky shit, and making it obvious that you expect people to fall for you, I’m out.” I jerked my head at the door. “I don’t do well with entitlement or spoiled people. Or people hitting on me just to prove they can fuck the tough Marine. Because believe it or not—people acting like I’m some alpha soldier conquest fantasy pisses me off more than anything else. And it happens every time I get with someone.”
Meredith flinched. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. I was just trying to be cool so you wouldn’t realize . . . how much I was feeling you.”
“I know that now,” I said. “But in that moment, it got under my skin. The reason I’ve been single for so long is because girls I got with between overseas tours always came at me with that vibe. Like I was a check on their bucket list. Or they wanted to act out some weird fantasy or fetish. I’m not here for it.”
“I’m really sorry,” she insisted. “I swear.”
“And I believe you, mamita. I just want to stress that you may not be like anyone else I’ve been with, but that type of attitude is a dime a bullshit dozen.” Mere had begun nodding again, watching me carefully and crumpling the sheet in her hands, so I brushed my fingers against her knee. “You get it?”
“Yes. But . . . why didn’t you just say that instead of totally writing me off?”
“Because before last night you were just a piece of ass, and I had zero reasons to explain my thoughts to you.”
For a second, I wondered if I’d gone too far, but she’d asked for brutal honesty. I smiled a bit to soften the blow. Or at least tried to make my face look like the face of someone who wasn’t deliberately trying to be a dickhead. It must have worked, because Mere leaned in, planting her palms on the mattress and letting the sheet fall to her lap. Her mouth turned up into a little smile, but she bit the side of it, and was so fucking cute that I wanted to devour her. I hadn’t been this thirsty for someone in a long time, but I hadn’t been pursued this way in a long time either. Most people just wanted me to fuck them so they could brag about it on social media.
“So, am I not just a piece of ass anymore?”
I tilted my forehead against hers. “Yeah, you are. But a more likeable one. One I wouldn’t mind taking out for a pizza or something.”
“Out for a pizza?” Mere made a face. “We could just order one and stay in your bed, and avoid all the annoying people.”
“Now you’re turning me on with all that antisocial talk.”
“I knew being a curmudgeon was the way to your heart.” She nudged her nose against mine, grinning and looking ridiculously giddy. “So does that mean we can hang out beyond the parameters of me laying low for the weekend? We don’t have to tell anybody. It could just be for us . . .”
I knew we’d been leading up to this, but I hesitated. She caught on and squeezed my hand, hopefulness causing her lips to purse and brows to smoosh together. Part of me expected her to get annoyed that I wasn’t jumping at the chance, but part of me wondered if we were just caught up in some sex haze.
“I’m not proposing, asshole. I just want to have a Netflix and chill with you. Like, when I’m not traumatized and you’re not in protective mode.”
The guardedness eased, but before I could respond, I heard a loud knock on the front door. Meredith instantly tensed, and I squeezed her shoulder.
“Could just be Ray or Michael coming to check up. I bet this shit was on the news.”
She relaxed, just marginally. “Maybe I should shower.”
“Do it. Borrow whatever you want. I’ll try not to instantly ruin your clothes this time.”
It looked like she wanted to say something dirty judging by the gleam in her eye, but she wrapped herself in the sheet and hurried across the hall. I smacked my cheeks, trying to blink away the aforementioned sex fog that was leading to some kind of bizarre infatuation, and went out into the living room.
Instead of finding my two favorite dudes, I found a white man in a suit. Angel was leaning against the wall in his work uniform, one eyebrow raised and a look of complete dismay on his face, and Victor was dressed for the gym—both a complete contrast to the man in the suit.
Suited Dude’s eyes fell on me and did a slow circuit once, then again, before he slowly nodded. Was it approval? Understanding? I had no clue. However, a hint of recognition just about knocked me over the head once I really paid attention to his features. The same silvering pattern at the sides of his light-brown hair, slate-gray eyes, same square jawline . . .
I pointed at him. “Kenneth Stone.”
His eyebrows shot up and a smug little smile crossed his face. “Yes.”
Angel blinked, unimpressed. “Who?”
“Mere’s father,” I said. “Though I don’t know why he’s here or how he got our address.”
“I have my sources,” Kenneth said, as if that weren’t a ridiculous thing to say.
Angel gave me the most dead-eyed stare he could muster. “I’m going to work. Call me if you need anything.”
He took off carrying his utility belt, and then it was just me, the man Mere apparently liked to compare to Robert Durst, and fucking Victor. Victor leaned against the counter with his arms over his chest and stared Kenneth down. My first instinct was to think he was being nosy, but his stance read as wary.
Huh.
“Your daughter’s in the shower,” I said. “But I’m curious as to why you came all the way to South Jamaica instead of sending a car for her.”
“Because I didn’t come to talk to my daughter. I came to talk to you.”
Shit, was this the part where it turned into some weird standoff, and he told me to keep my callused military hands off his bespoke kid? I scowled, squaring off.
“Why?”
“Because I saw the surveillance footage of you taking down my daughter’s attacker, and it intrigued me. I looked into your background and saw you’re a decorated Marine. Recently left the military and went to work for Redline Security—a rather shitty company that is more fit for mall security than personal body guards. I’m not sure what my son was thinking when he hired them.” Kenneth paused, letting that sink in, then added calmly, “I wasn’t sure what someone as competent and talented as you was thinking when you went to work for them.”
“I was thinking that I needed to work,” I said sharply. “Why is any of this relevant to you?”
Kenneth looked me over again. He clasped his hands in front of him. “Because I want to offer you a job.”