Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, Lacie indulged in a sit-down bath in the ridiculous bathtub at Simon’s house after the grueling three-mile run through the hills of his neighborhood. The bathtub, like everything else in Simon’s house, didn’t fit the man at all. It was a huge bowl in the middle of the room, but the slopes were inviting, and Lacie couldn’t resist a soak. She felt like she deserved it. Besides, it was equipped with the finest of bath salts, stuck together in a clump with age, but they were still usable.

Yesterday had been wonderful. After the initial awkwardness of Lacie’s questioning why he lived in a house like this—which, in retrospect, had probably been really rude of her—they’d settled into a comfort they hadn’t found before. He’d heated up the French dip sandwiches along with some of the best mac and cheese Lacie had ever had, and they ate in the living room and watched stupid comedies all day long.

Then, they’d ordered pizza and done it some more.

Sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, food spread out between them, it had been an awkward comfort that was difficult to explain. Simon was clearly setting boundaries between them but sending her heated looks when he thought she wasn’t looking. Even with all the mixed signals, she appreciated the effort to distract her from whatever was going on.

Simon didn’t seem like he belonged here. It was obvious this house wasn’t of his choosing. He moved with a deference to his surroundings that told her his parents had most likely moved in after he’d moved away to start his own adult life, which only made her wonder where he’d grown up. But as much as she wondered, Lacie knew he wouldn’t let her in. Not that it mattered. He was protecting her, plain and simple, and since their neighborhood had been compromised, it only made sense to move her here, right? Although, a motel seemed like it would be less personal, less intimate. And she liked the intimacy of his things, even if they weren’t really his.

But this house was insane. How had a guy from riches become a cop? Simon clearly had something in his past that was keeping him from acting on this insane chemistry between them.

Unless it was all on her side and he felt nothing? Was this one of those situations of intense danger that spiked adrenaline and made her feel things she wouldn’t normally feel? She eyeballed Simon on the other side of the couch, appearing deceptively casual in jeans and a t-shirt, his dark hair tousled, one shock of it falling over his eye. He looked incredible. His muscles were relaxed for once, as if he finally felt like he didn’t have to be on high alert at all times. Reclining on the sofa, his ankle crossed on one knee, arm tossed over the back of the sofa, he was mouthwatering.

Yeah. He would still be attractive to her even if she didn’t have adrenaline constantly pumping through her.

Before they had gone their separate ways to bed, Lacie had borrowed Simon’s phone and called Trent. When he didn’t answer, like she was sure he wouldn’t, she broke up with him in a voicemail message.

“It’s Lacie. I don’t think things are going to work out between us anymore. This shouldn’t come as a shock to you, but I wanted you to know I don’t have any hard feelings or anything. I just want someone who actually wants to answer the phone when I call. Talk to you later, Trent. Bye.”

When she’d hung up, Simon was standing there, staring at her with his jaw clenched so tightly she could see his temples pulse. She dropped the phone in his hand and went to bed, not knowing what to say.

Today, they were going out on his family’s boat at Lake Travis. It was another relic from his parents, one he shared with his brother and sister. Lacie could only assume it was as opulent as the house and looked forward to another day with Simon. Even as closed off as he was, she was still seeing a different side to him in these surroundings, and she liked it.

Being out in the open on the lake was a little bit daunting, but holing herself up inside her house hadn’t changed anything either. Lacie understood this whole trip was a distraction from the men who’d targeted her, and she appreciated it. She hadn’t been to the lake in a long time, whereas she used to go all the time. It seemed a little weird to go now, but at the same time, she was excited about a day in the sunshine. She needed the vitamin D.

She changed into her two-piece bathing suit, a purple bikini she wore proudly. Lacie worked hard to have this body in her thirties, and she was going to show it off. She didn’t have to be a kindergarten teacher today, so long, easy-to-move-in skirts weren’t on the agenda.

Besides, she wanted to see if she could get Simon to let loose a little. She felt safe with him, and the prospect of seeing him in a bathing suit wasn’t bad either. He might even smile at her.

She pulled up a pair of baggy, cut-off shorts and grabbed a loose-fitting tank top, prepared for a day of sun on the lake. Tossing her bag with sunscreen and a towel over her shoulder, Lacie slid on her sunglasses and declared herself ready to go.

Simon was waiting in the entryway for her, raising his eyebrows at her appearance. He locked up behind them and led the way to the Jeep, opening her door to allow her to slip into the seat before walking around and sliding in next to her.

“This is supposed to be a great day, weather-wise, but it’s probably going to get really hot on the lake. You ready for it?”

“God, you have no idea how much I need this.” She may have moaned a little bit more than she wanted to, but Simon just grunted as he started the Jeep and pulled out of the garage. The truth was, she wanted to be alone on a boat in the middle of a lake with Simon more than ever.

No, she didn’t. Sure, she enjoyed his company when he was being affable, but she was a job. This was a job. Lacie needed to remember that. This trip was a distraction from horror. Nothing more. It was a generous offer to keep her occupied with something besides movies and food. Still, she couldn’t quell her the butterflies in her tummy.

They hit the interstate and maneuvered through light Sunday morning traffic before taking the exit to Lake Travis. Going down what looked like a seldom-used road, Simon wound his way through meandering hills to a clearing near a small but fastidiously maintained marina.

“There she is.” He pointed to the biggest boat, a yacht by any standards, which wasn’t surprising.

“She” was sleek, white, and massive for Lake Travis, unless it was one of those rental party boats. Lacie walked up the pier leading to the boat with the name Maureen. She gestured to it and looked at Simon for clarification.

“My mother,” he said simply, as if that’s all the explanation she needed. Then he hollered up at the man standing above where the cabin was. “Hey, Captain!”

“Simon! I thought you’d given up boating for the greener stuff,” the older gentleman called down.

“Naw, just got busy. Needed to get away for the day and thought of you.” Simon’s easy manner was at direct odds to what she’d seen the past week, almost as if he were relieved to have some company.

Lacie followed him on board, allowing him to help her up, and marveled at the compact luxury. With clean lines and dark wood, the chrome gleamed, and the entire vessel screamed money. Such a far cry from the taciturn, almost grouchy man it belonged to.

“Lacie, meet Captain Hodge. Captain, this is my escort for the day, Lacie.” Simon turned to Lacie. “The galley’s below, Hodge’s wife usually stocks it with everything anybody could ever think they might need. You can lounge around up on the flybridge or at the front of the boat. Hodge has always let me drive when I get on board, so that’s where I’ll be. But he can get you anything you need.” With that, he climbed the ladder to the upper deck and settled himself behind the wheel.

She’d been dismissed. Lacie had thought she’d get to spend the day with Simon, but apparently, the forty-foot boat was big enough for him to avoid her. Fine. She turned to Hodge, who was smiling at her.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, embarrassed, but the man took it and turned it, kissing the back of it.

“It’s very nice to meet you as well. I’ll be around, checking on things. Holler if you need me.” Turning to climb the ladder, he said something about pretty ladies that was lost in the wind.

Shrugging, Lacie went below to undress. She folded her shorts and tank top into a neat pile before taking her bag up to the front of the boat. If she couldn’t get some company, she’d get some darn sun.

Simon was losing his damn mind. As soon as he saw Lacie in those itty-bitty shorts, he knew he wouldn’t survive today with her, so he’d marked his boundaries. He would drive Maureen, and Lacie would sun herself. Away from him.

Of course, she didn’t choose the flybridge, where he wouldn’t have to see her. No, she’d chosen the front of the boat, where her curves and that tiny fucking purple bikini were on display for all the world to see.

Not that he could take his eyes off of her.

Simon watched as she’d slathered lotion on her skin, rubbing it in slow circles across the pale flesh he imagined raking his teeth across. He’d seen her lay down on her stomach, piling all that glorious hair in a messy bun on top of her head, then remember something. Christ, she’d gone on all fours to dig around in her bag for something to swipe across her lips. He couldn’t focus on one single aspect of her gloriousness—her lush lips, her tight ass that needed a spanking for killing him like this, or that shadowed curve dipping under the bikini bottoms, alluding to the heaven he longed to sink his cock into.

“Somebody’s smitten,” Hodge spoke softly at his side. Simon turned to the man—more of a father to him than his own had been—while he adjusted his pants.

“Maybe,” was all he would allow. Truth was, he was totally twisted. Hopelessly, irrevocably twisted in this woman who’d wormed her way under his skin and wasn’t letting go.

A low chuckle was Hodge’s response, and Simon let it go. He wasn’t having a conversation about Lacie today. He was here to blow off some steam.

Turning the wheel toward the main part of the lake, he let loose on the throttle and tried to enjoy his day as best he could with the woman on deck distracting him mercilessly with every breath she took.

They did a couple slow tours through the tributary leading to the main part of the lake, drove around the edges to see houses on the shoreline, then puttered back down the tributary. There were waterfalls and lush landscaping. If Simon didn’t know he was in Central Texas, he’d think it was some tropical paradise.

Simon tried to get lost in the waters of his childhood, but the temptress in the purple bikini was making it difficult. She’d fallen asleep, and he was worried she’d get sunburnt, but he choked at the idea of calling out to her. Finally, when he’d had enough, he sent Hodge down to her to tell her to reapply her sunscreen or go inside. He was torn on which he preferred.

A ragged sigh escaped him when she dug her sunscreen out of her bag, smiling at Hodge, and began to reapply, the old man sticking around to rub it on her back.

Thank fuck his phone rang, distracting him from what was undoubtedly jealousy at a man in his sixties.

“Hello,” he snarled.

“Cheery. I like it.” It was Dex, and Simon straightened himself out—work mode engaged. “Amber got me the transcripts of the questioning of the guys taken into custody for Miss Hill’s attacks. Only two, but I emailed them to you.”

Dammit. He hated looking at shit on his phone, but that’s what he was going to have to do today if he was going to get anything done besides fantasizing about Lacie. And fuck if that’s what he shouldn’t be doing. He had to remind himself this was an outing to take her mind off the dangers she was in.

“Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

When Hodge came back up, he took over the wheel as Simon cursed his fat fingers and tiny phone while trying to navigate through the files Dex had sent.

Not very enlightening.

Dan Simmons was a regional manager of a popular shoe store chain. He had two kids and was separated from his wife. He was close-lipped about motives and plans for Lacie after he’d drugged her, not that Simon needed a vivid imagination for that shit. Simmons drove a fancy car but lived in a modest apartment. He made money but not a ton of it, and he visited the slot machines in Oklahoma once a month. No priors, which meant he hadn’t been caught before.

Cruise Vega owned a sports bar in town, lived alone, never married, and no kids. Also close-lipped about motives and plans after he’d broken into Lacie’s window. Tons of tattoos but none were gang-related.

Damn. Nothing there. No motive, no priors, nothing linking them to Lacie in any way.

After taking the wheel back from Hodge, Simon half-watched the water and half-watched Lacie while he rolled the facts of the case around in his head, coming up with nothing. No links, no ties, just a jumble of puzzle pieces he longed to connect to Jonas but had no idea how.

Was he just trying to pin something on Jonas because he hated the man so much for what happened to Bonnie? Everyone knew the man was shit, was fathered by shit, and deserved shit. Was Simon being narrow-minded by thinking Jonas had something to do with Lacie?

Could be, but currently, nothing was pointing anywhere, so he was stuck with where his gut was taking him.

His eyes fell on a pleasant distraction, and as much as she was irritating him by flaunting herself, he couldn’t stop watching her. Her pale skin was coloring slightly as she relaxed in the sunshine, her muscles growing slack with each passing hour. Lacie was more rested than he’d seen her since he met her, and a surge of pride at the fact this had all been his idea coursed through his veins. His chest swelled, and he allowed the brief thought that this could be permanent.

Then everything crashed down. It couldn’t be permanent. He couldn’t give her what she needed. She was Lacie Hill and needed a man to come home to every night, a man who trusted her, who would never question her. Simon couldn’t be that man. He knew he was a control freak. He would want to know everything about her—where she was going, who she was going with, where she would be, why she was doing things.

She would want a husband and kids. He couldn’t do that. He’d seen the way his dad was with his mom, and they’d been happy, but he didn’t have that in his make-up. His past kept him from trusting her completely.

Simon ignored her contented sighs drifting up to him as he turned the boat back to the marina and opened up the throttle, suddenly in a hurry to not have the stimulating visual.

He was ready to get home so he could safely lock her away in his house and himself away in his room. What he was not prepared for was the ride back to the sanctuary. He knew he was being short with her when they docked and he turned off the engine.

“Okay, let’s go.” Lacie’s eyebrows rose and her mouth fell open as she scurried around, trying to gather her things. Simon felt the guilt at messing up her day like a nauseous roil in his gut, but he didn’t do anything about it. He simply ushered her off the boat and into the Jeep.

They had barely gotten on the road when Lacie turned in her seat. “Okay, what did I do this time?”

Simon thought he knew what she was talking about but wanted to make sure. She needed to say the words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we had a perfectly pleasant time yesterday at your house, and then you take me out on a distracting excursion, and I thought we would get more pleasantness. Instead, you acted like I have leprosy and didn’t say two words to me the entire day.”

Simon looked over at her and slowed down on the curvy road. Anger flashed in her eyes, reddening her sun-kissed cheeks. She was gorgeous.

She’d turned in her seat, so one knee was propped up, and a flash of purple showed under her shorts. She hadn’t put the tank top on, so her sleek skin was on display.

He slowly pulled the Jeep over to the side of the road, trying to think of a way out of this when all he wanted to do was yank her over the center console and ravage her.

He set the parking brake, still thinking.

“I was trying to give you something fun. Something to keep your mind off of things. We’ve got a work week starting tomorrow, and I just wanted to give you something different to think about.”

“Like how I’ve managed to make you angry at me again?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He’d never been pissed at her. He knew he could be sullen and moody, but he’d never been mad at Lacie.

“You kissed me the other night, then didn’t talk to me for two days. Then saved me from that man and took me back to your house, which is beautiful, and we had an awkwardly amazing time together. But the awkwardness is all you, Simon. If you would just let loose, we might have some fun while we’re together. But something’s crawling around in your butt, and I don’t know what it is.”

That was the most extreme language he’d ever heard come out of her mouth, and he felt the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile. Barely.

He looked her squarely in the eyes, those mahogany pools of depth, but his eyes strayed to her lips—ripe, lush, kissable, fuckable lips—and his groin respond. He desperately needed to focus on why she was in his life in the first place. Video feeds into her house. Attacks on her person. Threats.

And all the ways he could love on this woman.

“Let it be known, Lacie, I want to fuck you eleven ways to Sunday. You cannot possibly fathom the filthy things I want to do to you, and being around you is torture because that’s all I think about sometimes.” He took a deep breath, schooling himself. Her eyes had widened at his proclamation, and she snaked her pretty, pink tongue out to wet her lips. He halted her anticipation.

“But I must keep things professional between us. I can’t be who you want me to be. I can promise you that.” He swiped a hand across his face, ending with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to not look at her anymore.

“Simon, I’m not looking for declarations of love and marriage. I just need … I don’t know what I need, but this isn’t it. If you can’t do this job without making me feel like dog poop on the bottom of your shoe, then let someone else at your office do it.” She bit her lip as if unsure of what she was talking about but was clearly unwilling to take it back. Her eyes dared him to contradict her.

“No one else at my office is going to take care of you,” he growled at her, the very idea making him want to punch someone in the face.

“Then you do it.” Her words were simple, whispered in the darkness, but they spoke volumes. His eyes snapped to hers, and she was looking at him from under lowered lids.

A sudden need fired through him. “How long has it been since you had one, Lacie?” His voice was husky as a ball of desire slammed into his gut. Her eyes widened, and he couldn’t stop his hand from reaching for her knee, the smooth skin of her legs taunting him. When she didn’t answer, he prodded her. “How long since a man touched you? Made you climax?” Her chest heaved, the anger in her eyes turning to a heat—a heat that spread straight to Simon’s cock.

He wanted her with every breath he had but knew he couldn’t have her.

“I don’t know,” she breathed at him, her voice sending trickles of lust splashing across his overheated skin. “Two years? Three?”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Tangling his hands in her hair, he yanked her face toward him. “That’s too damn long for anyone.”

Simon kissed her for all he was worth, slamming his tongue into her mouth, taking, biting, sucking. He needed her, and he wouldn’t have her, but he’d be damned if she was leaving the side of the road without the orgasm he so desperately needed to give her.

“Take off the shorts,” he groaned between kisses. His erection pressed against his shorts, but it went unheeded. He’d take care of that later. Right now, all that mattered was this woman in his arms and her pleasure. And he’d get a fair amount of enjoyment out of giving it to her.

Lacie squirmed around in the seat, trying to get undressed, while he kissed her, unwilling to stop. He pulled the strings on the top and back of her bathing suit and got handfuls of the gorgeous breasts he’d only dreamed of. Plump, smooth skin filled his hands, and she moaned as his fingers went to work, seeking, then finding the pert buds of her nipples. Tweaking them. Rolling them between his fingers.

She gasped, and he couldn’t stop. Pulling his hands up to her face, Simon cradled it, leaning his forehead against hers. “I can’t give you much, but I can give you this.” Lowering one hand back to a nipple, he twisted it before leaning himself back in his seat to look at her.

Sprawled out in his Jeep, naked, Lacie looked stunning. Pulling one knee out so she was spread wide before him, Simon licked his lips as he looked his fill. He was dying to taste her but couldn’t go that far. That was a level of intimacy he wasn’t ready for. But as his hand drifted from her nipple to the glistening, pink folds of her pussy, he knew he had to sink his fingers inside her.

But he would draw it out for as long as he could. They were rather secluded and had all the time in the world. This was his one chance he was allowing himself with her. He was going to fucking enjoy it.

Reaching out to drag his finger along her dampness, he relished that she was this wet for him. From kissing him. He was hard enough to crush rocks, and she was just so damn slippery it made him lightheaded. Her clit peeked out from under its hood and he stroked it lightly, hearing her gasp his name. That sound sent another shock of lust straight through him.

Slowly, his finger disappeared into her heated flesh, and the noise filling the car was his own tortured moan. As he pulled it out, just as slowly, the moisture on his finger sent tremors of need through him. Inserting two fingers, he slowly began pumping them.

He looked at Lacie, her head leaned back on the window, eyes closed in rapture.

“Look at me, while I do this. You don’t ever get to forget who’s taking care of you.” His voice was dark, guttural with his own restraint, but his needs were not in question right now. Simon brought his other hand down to lightly circle her clit as she opened her lust-hazy eyes and looked at him.

Lacie was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life, and she was his for right now. As her pussy tremored around his fingers, he could guaran-fucking-tee she wasn’t thinking about anyone else.

He applied a little more pressure to her clit and curled his fingers slightly as he felt that rough spot on her inner wall. And then he bent his head to her nipple, finding the erect nub and sucking it into his mouth.

Two hard pulls and Lacie gasped, grasping his hair in tight handfuls as her pussy clamped down hard on his fingers. He continued thrusting them in and out, determined to milk her orgasm.

As she came down, Simon reluctantly leaned back and slipped his fingers into his mouth, tasting her sweet, honeyed musk. It was better than he’d imagined and almost made him come in his pants, but by dragging in a deep breath, he managed to regain control and adjust himself.

That had gone faster than he’d wanted, but she was apparently on as tight a rope as he was. He had to solve this case fast and get back on solid ground again.

“What about you?” she whispered, looking pointedly at the erection straining his shorts.

“I’ll live,” he muttered as he started the car, then froze as her seeking hands fumbled at the fastenings to his trunks.

“I want to. Let me, please?” Her eyes were wide and so fucking innocent. Did she really think he’d be able to stop with a hand job? If she touched him, he’d have her on all fours, pounding into her so hard his cock would be in her throat.

But as he looked at her pleading, brown eyes, Simon knew he’d do whatever she asked right now. And a handjob wasn’t anything compared to what she could be asking, right?

Simon pulled his shirt up over his head and, with shaky hands, pushed her aside and undid the drawstring to his shorts. Lifting his hips, he allowed himself to fall out into her hands, engorged, leaking and ready.

He hissed as Lacie grasped him in her tiny hands, enclosing his paws around hers. “Tighter, like this.” He held her hands in his and guided her strokes—long, slow, and tight. His hips thrust up to meet her, completely of their own volition, and Simon tossed his head back and closed his eyes.

He couldn’t see anyway. Everything tingled hot—his skin, his blood, his muscles. He was a raging bundle of static electricity, all because of Lacie’s elegant hands on his cock. She cooed at him—words of encouragement, he supposed—but all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears.

She was fantastic.

Lacie gripped him tightly, stroking him faster and harder. His hisses became moans. The hot electricity became a raging inferno. Suddenly, everything exploded in a fiery-white blast as thick, hot ropes coated his belly.

“Fuck, Lacie.”

He looked over to see her reaction, and to his surprise, she was looking at his stomach, covered in shots of semen. Sheepishly, he tugged his t-shirt to clean himself, but before he could, Lacie leaned over and ran her tongue through it.

“What—”

“Shhh … This is good,” she murmured between licks.

Simon had never seen anything like it. The ember sparked to life again as she ran her tongue all over his torso, licking him clean. The tiny, hot little tongue of hers—coating him as it cleaned—conspired to make him lightheaded. He was so screwed.

When Lacie finished, she leaned back and licked her lips, but Simon was speechless. He didn’t have words to convey to her what that had done to him, so he yanked her to him for a punishing kiss of thanks. He then started the Jeep with all intentions of getting her home and in his bed as soon as possible. He had a list of filthy things to do to her, and she’d made it perfectly clear she’d be okay with it. But would he?

At this point, he didn’t give a fuck.

“Before we go back to you not speaking to me for a day or so, or until I need you again, I wanted to talk about next week with you.”

Her total change of topic was making his head spin. He was still between the sheets with her inside his mind, and she was already off to school next week? Talk about compartmentalization.

They’d crested a hill with a curve at the bottom, and it was almost dark, when he pressed the brake pedal to the floor. Nothing.

“Hang on …” he said.

“No, you hang on. Just because you’re scared of something doesn’t mean we can’t communicate about anything.”

Damn women and their talking. He tried to downshift, but the hill wasn’t helping.

“No. The brakes are out. Hang on.”

Simon could make out something in the middle of the road, and with a sinking pit in his stomach, he knew they’d been ambushed.

He pulled the emergency brake lever, and the Jeep slowed but not enough. They were close enough he could see it was an enormous tree. Not one of the mesquite trees that proliferated the landscape but one of the big, old oak trees that had been here for centuries.

Simon’s only option was to roll the Jeep, but it was either roll or hit the tree head-on, and that would undoubtedly kill them both. Reflexively, his arm shot out as if it would actually hold Lacie in. Thankfully, she had her seatbelt on.

With fifty yards to spare, he turned the wheel sharply to the right so his side would hit—hopefully. The Jeep rolled with a shatter of glass and a wrenching of metal, and they were upside down, tree branches poking into the cab of the Jeep.

He heard a ticking from the tree.

“Get out. Now,” Simon barked. To her credit, Lacie didn’t argue. She immediately started fumbling with her seatbelt.

With the clicking loud in his ear, Simon reached over her to the glovebox and opened it but everything fell out.

“Shit.”

Groping on the floor blindly, Simon felt around for the knife he kept there. Lacie was breathing loudly.

“I can’t get it. It’s stuck.” The panic in her voice sucked his gut inside out, and he redoubled his efforts.

Simon unclasped his seatbelt and fell to the ceiling, continuing his search. Finally, his fingers wrapped around the familiar bone handle of his grandpa’s Case pocket knife.

In one fluid movement, he opened it and slashed at her seatbelt. Dropping it and grabbing her, he pushed open her door, the clicking noise loud and getting faster in his ear.

Simon grabbed Lacie’s hand and yanked her along behind him.

“Run, Lacie! Run!”

They ran as fast and as far as they could, but when the bomb went off, they were still launched a good ten feet. Simon held onto Lacie’s hand, and when they were both on the ground, he shoved her under his body to protect her from flying debris.

He didn’t let her up until he’d gotten his breathing under control. Hands down, that been the scariest moment of his life. Trying her compartmentalization tactic, he murmured, “My mom made me take ballroom dancing lessons when I was a kid, so I’m fair at rug-shaking. Does that sound like something the kids would like?”