Chapter 6: Real Need
Juliet had never been surer of anything in her life. If she were honest with herself, she’d wanted Hank Compton from the first moment she saw him. Sure, she thought he was an asshole and he certainly wasn’t the best housemate, but no woman could deny his rugged allure.
Did he even know what he did to the female species? Strutting around in a pair of jeans that were worn so they hugged the muscular lines of his legs and a wife-beater that exposed the long lengths of tattooed arms...Christ.
Though Juliet had been drawn to Solomon’s lean strength and his tall build when she first met him, she’d quickly come to learn that he wasn’t half as attractive as he thought himself. Allure came as much from within as without, and that made Solomon Aguiler one of the most ghastly people alive.
The young woman wouldn’t presume to know Hank half as well. She’d been with him for all of a week and a half - but she could already sense he was different. There was a strength to him that had nothing to do with pompous promises or illusions of power...and she wanted that strength.
She needed it.
He tasted of tobacco and something spicy beneath it - something raw and masculine that she never imagined she’d have the pleasure of indulging in. When his lips tugged at her lower lip, coaxing her mouth open, Juliet moaned, long and low.
When was the last time she’d truly been aroused?
Solomon had turned sex into something of a terror for her. He had never really pleased her, and towards the end of their relationship, every encounter had been downright abusive. Juliet had wondered if she’d ever be able to let a man touch her again.
But this...this was on her terms. Despite the fact that he had half a foot and at least seventy pounds on her, Hank held her as if she would break at any second. His grip was firm enough to keep her close, but gentle enough to mind her injuries, even as his mouth moved hungrily over hers. The heat that flared through her system caught Juliet completely off guard and she found herself inhaling sharply as Hank pressed the evidence of his arousal flush against the softness at the crux of her legs.
He was hard. Painfully so.
Juliet found herself arching against him wantonly as her nightgown hiked up above her hips, revealing that she wore absolutely nothing beneath. A few days ago, she’d been downright pissed that no one in the department seemed to be man enough to buy a woman underwear, but now she found she’d never been happier that there was nothing else between her and the hot hardness of Hank’s body.
Her fingers curled into his shoulders desperately as he devoured her mouth, pressing kiss after kiss against her lips until her mouth was swollen with the intensity of it. A thin layer of stubble rasped over her jaw as his mouth dropped to her neck to lick and suck a hungry trail downward, and Juliet squirmed.
You don’t want me.
How the hell could he possibly think that? She’d probably been wet from the moment he walked in the room, even if this hadn’t been her intention. Juliet had just wanted to talk, but she also hadn’t wanted to be alone. Every time she remembered Solomon touching her, she felt sick to her stomach. She needed something, anything to burn his touch away…
Hank Compton in her bed was more than she ever could have asked for.
He reached down to grip the hem of her nightgown, drawing it slowly up over her body until every inch of skin was bared to him. Juliet found herself glad the lighting was dim. Once upon a time, Solomon had her convinced that she was the hottest thing since sliced bread, but since then, he’d put more scars on her body than she could count. She was damaged goods, and she knew it. The less Hank saw, the better.
But he didn’t seem to agree.
“Fuck.” The word escaped him, low and awed, once he’d tossed the nightgown aside. Juliet had expected - hoped - that he would fall on her without really looking at her. Instead, she found Hank’s dark gaze roaming her naked body in the low light.
She had to look a mess - hair mussed, eyes red from crying, and still wearing the dressings from two healing gunshot wounds. Hank’s hands dropped to the thick sheets of gauze and she flinched reflexively, even though his touch didn’t hurt. “Can I take these off?”
Her impulse was to refuse. She couldn’t think of one good reason, in the entire cosmos, why she should show the man the angry, puckered flesh of her wounds. He thought little enough of her already. Instead, Juliet hesitated a moment before her head nodded of its own accord.
She must have lost her goddamned mind.
Reaching down, Hank gingerly plucked the medical tape from the edges of the gauze around her shoulder and side. The healing skin smarted, and Juliet sucked in a low breath, but she didn’t stop him. Instead, she merely watched as he peeled her dressings away, inch by torturous inch.
In truth, the wounds weren’t half as bad as she might have imagined. They were vivid and red, standing out against her normally dark skin, but they only added to the network of burns and bruises that were already present - a pattern that told of her suffering. With a low, awed sound, Hank reached down to run his fingertips gently over the healing flesh and the resulting sensation sent a shiver through her.
Immediately, he stopped, his expression concerned. “Does it still hurt?”
Juliet shook her head, reaching up to wrap her fingers around his and tug his hand back down. “I’m ok. Don’t stop.”
As long as he was touching her, she could forget. Even if it was only for a little while.
A fresh wave of want glazed Hank’s eyes as he reached down to stroke over her skin again - against the wound at her side and up over the flat expanse of her tummy. As his calloused fingertips ran up between her breasts, Juliet pressed her thighs together as scalding need gathered between them.
Hanks hand continued upward, over the slender line of her throat to linger on her lips, still swollen from his kisses. “Christ, you’re gorgeous.”
The statement was enough to bring hot moisture to the corner of her eyes - though from sheer ridiculousness at it or gratitude towards it, Juliet wasn’t certain. “I’m a mess.”
“We’re all fucking messes,” Hank rumbled, his hand feathering back down over her torso to the ample swell of her breasts. Juliet’s nipples were so hard that they ached in the open air, when Hank’s palm skated over them, she sucked in a sharp breath as sensation snapped to the core of her.
Dear God.
He watched her, his eyes never leaving her face as his thumb circled one tight peak until she was whimpering, arching into his touch in a wordless plea for more. Hank stroked the minute nub with two fingers firmly until Juliet felt slick wetness trickling down her thighs. He’d barely touched her, and already she wanted to beg him to stop toying with her. “Hank, I-”
He bent over her suddenly, taking her tortured nipple between his teeth to suckle hungrily and Juliet cried out, trembling. One long leg rose to wrap around his waist, trapping him against her as he licked and sucked at the peak of her breast. All too quickly, the pressure between her legs built upon itself until she was whining, all but writhing against him as she grasped desperately at the back of his neck. Juliet couldn’t remember the last time she had ever felt so damned good...or if she ever had. With Solomon, it had been all about his needs. Even though Hank was hard as a rock against the yielding flesh of her thigh, he seemed to be ignoring his own discomfort in favor of savoring her - and his ministrations were quickly driving her towards an inevitable climax.
But then, all at once, he raised his head from her breast and a soft cry of protest escaped her. She was so close. So close...Her hand drifted to the back of his head, tugging him back downward in an effort to direct him to where she wanted. Hank, however, didn’t budge. A dark chuckle escaped him. “Slow down, honey. I’m just getting warmed up.”
Warmed up? Jesus, Juliet was already going up in flames. “Hank, please…” She begged breathlessly, tugging at his immobile form. “Please, I need-”
“Tell me what you need,” He growled against her neck, sucking a mark into the flesh there until Juliet forgot how to breathe. “Tell me.”
“Touch me.” She moaned, unabashed in her need. “Kiss me.”
“I am kissing you.” He murmured against the tender, raw skin of her injured shoulder before brushing a feather-light kiss across it. A low, frustrated sound escaped Juliet as she wrapped her leg even more tightly about him, drawing him more flush against her. “Gotta be more specific.”
Goddamn, he was an asshole. She might have guessed he’d torture her like this. “Your mouth,” she tried again, flushing darkly. “I want your mouth.”
“Where? Here?” His tongue slid against her collarbone and she shuddered, her hips bucking against him in vain. “Here?” His lips swept lower, down between her breasts to trace the line of each and every one of her ribs. The sensation sent butterflies winging through her stomach as Juliet exhaled a shaky breath. “Here?” When his mouth closed over the nipple he’d neglected, Juliet thought she might have died and gone to heaven. How did he do that with his mouth? A deft, slow glide of his tongue, the edge of his teeth and dear God, that hungry, turgid suction...
Unfortunately, the sensation didn’t last long.
Hank released the tip of her breast after less than a minute and Juliet could have clobbered him, injured or no. At the look on her face, he smirked, reaching down to take firm hold of her hips. “No fucking way.” Juliet uttered a low sound of surprise as he used his hold to push her up the length of her bed until the crown of her head touched scratched wooden headboard. “I want to taste you when you come, Juliet.” At the hot press of his mouth against her hip bone, her breath caught in her throat. “Like hell you’re denying me that.”
Before she could reply, deft fingers were parting her legs and Hank’s mouth covered the hot, wet core of her. Juliet gasped out, her fingers curling around the headboard as her back arched almost painfully from the duvet.
Solomon had never, ever done this for her - not in all their eight years together. He insisted that he wouldn’t prostrate himself in such a way, despite the fact that he wanted her mouth wrapped around him at every opportunity. Juliet had long told herself that she’d live without it - there were worse things than a sensation she couldn’t even miss.
Now she realized how woefully wrong she’d been.
At the first long lap of Hank’s tongue against her, Juliet was lost. The man held her thighs apart, pinning her right where he wanted her. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to press her most sensitive parts against his hungry mouth or try to escape - sensation overwhelmed her brain so her body did most of the thinking for her.
Hank groaned as she trembled against his mouth. His tongue covered the seam of her sex again and again before circling the tiny, tender bud of her clit. When his mouth closed around it to impart the same gentle suction that each nipple had received, Juliet all but sobbed at the knife-like pleasure that lanced through her. Every sweet pull of Hank’s mouth urged her closer and closer to the precipice of her orgasm, but the masterstroke came when two thick fingers slid inside her, high and precise, to stroke a spot that made stars blink to life before her vision.
Juliet’s orgasm crashed over her with breathtaking intensity. She found herself gripping Hank’s shoulders for dear life, her toes curling tightly as the delectation went on and on. Through it all, Hank continued to lick and kiss her lower folds gently, sending jolts of accompanying nirvana through her until she wasn’t sure she could take anymore.
She didn’t even realize she was begging him to stop until he raised his head to look up at her, his eyes dark with lust. When he licked his lips, Juliet shuddered violently, her womb clenching in shocking need. “That’s only one. I need another one, Julie-baby.”
A sound half-laugh, half moan escaped her as the young woman shook her head. She didn’t think it was physically possible to feel like that more than once a night. Her entire body felt made of rubber as it was. “No.”
Hank’s mouth skated over her inner thigh and up to the tender skin at the joint of her thigh and buttock to kiss and suck at until she moaned, squirming away from him. “Hank…”
“Again.” He used her own momentum to turn her onto her stomach, parting her legs so she was spread for him once more. From her new angle, there was little Juliet could do to prevent him from continuing his torture. When his mouth found its home among the drenched folds between her legs for the second time, she merely moaned deliriously into the pillow.
Fuck.
Fuck.
He was obviously trying to kill her.
Hanks hands curled into her thighs, kneading and massaging as he mouthed the tenderest parts of her hungrily. Despite Juliet’s exhaustion, her body responded flagrantly. When Hank’s tongue slid inside her, her breath hitched as her fingers gripped desperately at the mussed duvet for purchase. More. More. God, more.
He lapped, licked and sucked at her hungrily until Juliet, incredibly, found herself at the edge of another earth-shattering orgasm. It was inevitable, racing towards her as her toes curled and her body clenched and then...it took her.
If her head hadn’t been buried in the pillow, Crowley and Bosh might well have heard her. As it was, her muffled cry echoed about the room as her pleasure was wrung from her. Juliet’s body trembled uncontrollably, her stomach clenching, as the world ceased to exist. There was only mind-numbing pleasure: Hank’s ravenous mouth between her legs and the sound of her own labored breathing.
By the time Juliet finally came back down, it was to the sensation of Hank brushing slow, heated kisses up the line of her spine. A soft moan escaped her as she shifted beneath the warmth of his body. The tight skin around her wounds ached and her calves cramped from how tight her muscles were wound, but the lazy warmth that enveloped her was almost like a drug.
Hank’s mouth soon found the nape of her neck, sending a residual shiver through her as she used the last of her strength to roll over and face him. She thought he might be irritated that she was so easily exhausted, or frustrated by her sudden laziness, but, instead, she found only hunger in his gaze. “You taste fucking decadent.” Despite the fact that Juliet hadn’t thought it was possible to move, let alone want him again, she was, for the second time that evening, proven wrong.
When he kissed her, she tasted herself on his lips and found herself addicted to the flavor.
But Juliet wanted no more of his mouth. She had more robust parts of him in mind.
She reached down to find him, if possible, even harder than he had been before. It was then that Juliet realized that the man had her naked as the day she was born and he was still completely clothed. She was going to have to do something about that.
Taking hold of the hem of his t-shirt, she yanked it upward impatiently. Hank uttered not a single protest, tearing his mouth from hers long enough for her to fling the shirt away before he was kissing her again, his tongue sliding sinuously against hers. Once Juliet’s hands were free to roam his bare chest, she groaned at the taut musculature she found. His chest was just as inked as both of his arms, and she traced the intricate dark lines, moving ever downward until she reached the bulge at the crux of his legs.
Juliet slid her hand beneath the elastic hem waistband of his shorts without hesitation. At the size of him, her eyes widened.
Everything was very much in proportion.
Her fingers wrapped around the hard, heated length of him, stroking lingeringly from base to tip, and a low groan ripped from his throat. Hank’s breath fell, hot and labored, against her shoulder, as her thumb smoothed over the huge, blunt tip of him.
Juliet had only been with one man in her life, and she couldn’t remember ever feeling anything more than reluctance to sleep with him - even when she believed him madly in love with her. In that moment, she was so concerned with getting Hank inside of her any and everything else faded from her mind.
Hank himself endured about two minutes of her hand roving over his erection before he was shucking his pants and boxers over his hips to discard them carelessly.
For all the time the man had taken to look at her, Juliet had to stop to take in his naked form - just for a fraction of a moment. The network of ink that covered his skin like a web, powerful thighs and taut arms. It was, however, the raw need in his eyes that had her yanking him back to her.
Juliet paid no mind to the way her ankle twinged as her legs locked around his waist. The sweet slide of his erection against her belly dragged a moan from her. When she reached down to press him against her wet heat, Hank’s hand covered hers. It was clear, after a lingering minute of him torturously dragging his cock over the slippery seam of her, that the man was a masochist. Juliet keened, arched and whimpered. She squirmed and pulled him tighter against her - did everything short of begging to have him inside her…
And then, all at once, he was.
Hank entered her in a forceful thrust that took her breath away, pinning her lips to the mattress and pulling her mouth into an O of sensation. He filled her so completely the pleasure almost bordered on pain, but Juliet only pulled him deeper. She needed this.
Needed him.
Hank growled a low curse against her shoulder as he withdrew slightly before snapping his hips forward. Juliet muffled her cry of pleasure against his shoulder, delighting in his shiver when she bit down hard enough to leave a mark.
Hank quickly worked up a rhythm of long, breath-taking strokes that had Juliet bucking against every press of his hips into hers. Reaching up, she cupped his face, raising her mouth to his, and gasped when Hank’s hand tangled in her hair, stopping her mouth mere inches from his. His eyes locked with hers as he thrust into her once again, and Juliet found she couldn’t look away.
She told herself that this was about forgetting - that any man would do to break the hold Solomon had once had on her...but that was bullshit. Juliet wasn’t idiotic enough to let just any man into her bed. Not after what she’d endured.
It was Hank she wanted. He knew who she was - what she was, and still he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
When her body began to clench around him, an incredible, third orgasm beckoning, her head fell back and she let the pleasure take her.
“Fuck!” Hank’s mouth found the junction of her neck and shoulder and bit down, hard, drawing a choked cry from her. His grip on her good hip turned almost bruising, but Juliet just clenched him tighter, until his entire body stiffened and she felt him spill inside her in long, hot spurts.
She was still trembling by the time he collapsed atop her, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
Though Juliet was barely conscious, she had enough presence of mind to know that Hank Compton had probably just ruined her for any and all men that might come after him. She clutched him as their bodies cooled, her eyes closed, heart pounding…
And experienced, for the first time in the past eight years, a moment of resounding peace. Nothing mattered beyond the tiny, dusty room, the man still inside her, and the pleasure humming through her body.
She had never known sex could be like that - pleasure so intense that it literally brought her to tears. If she’d had any strength left, she might even have thanked Hank for so irrevocably opening her eyes.
As it was, however, Juliet was so exhausted that she could barely lift a finger. When Hank moved from her, a soft sound of protest escaped her. The room suddenly felt icy cold, and she realized, dimly, that she was covered in a layer of cooling sweat and nothing else. When she attempted to sit up, Hank’s low command stopped her. “Don’t move.”
She had never been gladder to obey him.
The man stood from the bed, searching the floor until he found her nightgown. With surprising gentility, he used the soft cotton to wipe the sweat from her body. That done, he dressed her in his own t-shirt before flipping the blanket over her.
Juliet wasn’t anywhere near naïve enough to believe there wouldn’t be repercussions. Soon, the sun would be high in the sky and they’d have to face the reality of what they’d just done. For now, however, she needed sleep.
While she still had peace.
Juliet drifted off while Hank still watched her, unaware of the conflicted expression marring his handsome face.
**
He was a fucking moron.
Even hours later, Hank found himself torn between returning to the bedroom to wake Juliet with his renewed erection and berating the shit out of himself.
He’d been doing this too long to make rookie mistakes - put too much of himself into his job to jeopardize it. Though the call of a man’s cock was strong, Hank liked to believe he didn’t always think with his lower head - not when more important things were involved.
But it was too late to make excuses now. What was done was done - he just had to figure out how to keep from doing it again. Considering that he’d been staving off the desire to slip inside the woman while she slept the entire morning, the task was going to be easier said than done, and so he’d set himself to busy work to keep from doing anything completely idiotic.
He unpacked the few essentials he’d brought with him and laid his equipment out on the kitchen table. Even though Hank hadn’t been to a fancy school or trained specifically to be a cop, Simmons had made sure he was fast-tracked through the training he needed. He had never been a straight A student, but he had street smarts and intuition. He had also surprised the older man by being one hell of a tactical thinker when his ass was on the line - if never elsewise. It was a trait that had come from years of watching he and his sister’s back when a bullet could come through the window at any time.
He’d made it through the three year course in a year and a half, and even enjoyed himself somewhat. What wasn’t enjoyable about whipping academy boys’ asses at their own games?
Part of that essential training had been dealing with the weapons that had terrified him as a child. After his sister had been killed, Hank swore he would never pick up a gun. He didn’t want to be anything like the murdering Solomon Aguiler. Simmons, however, had taught him that a gun could do good in the right hands - as long as he wasn’t too hot-headed.
Though he was still reluctant, Hank had become more than proficient. He was one of the best shots in the department - quite the feat, considering that he wasn’t even technically an honorary member. He’d taken his weapons apart and put them together so many times by now that the action was methodical - he did it without thinking.
Which, unfortunately, hadn’t been his intention.
While his hands moved over the pieces of machinery before him, Hank’s mind returned to the bedroom down the hall.
The way she had looked at him. They had, Hank realized, been dancing around each other this entire damned time. Sure they’d gotten off to one hell of a rough start, but beneath that steady toleration of one another, lust had burned hot enough to consume the entire fucking cabin. In hindsight, Hank wondered how he had lasted so long.
That answer, funnily enough, came to him in short order: She had given him an in. From the day they met one another, Juliet put up a tough front. Certainly, Solomon had victimized her but she refused to play that victim - for him or anyone else. It wasn’t until she was made to recount the horrors of her life with the Aguilers that he realized just how vulnerable she really was.
Hank had never been a sucker for doe-eyed vixens, but Juliet wasn’t seeking comfort. He had gone to her...and then they both had given in.
Thankfully, his phone beeped before he could get too lost in his ruminations. At a message from Simmons, Hank frowned.
Setting scouts on four of the locations package recounted. Get ready to go in this evening.
The old man had always worked fast.
Considering that this could be an in to the man who had taken his sister from him, Hank found himself surprisingly calm. He reminded himself that the operation had just started - it would, no doubt, be weeks before he could get close enough to Solomon to take him down.
Weeks, a wicked voice in the back of his mind prodded, that you’ll have in the same house with Juliet.
Scowling, he shoved the notion back into the dark where it belonged. It was time to go to work. Unless he was getting more information from her or keeping her safe from an imminent threat, he couldn’t afford to keep his mind full of his charge.
Even if his body all but screamed for him to return to her.
“Morning.” Hank straightened at a low, tentative voice from the kitchen doorway. He intended to utter a blasé greeting in return but stiffened at the sight that met his gaze.
Juliet was still wearing his shirt.
In the full light of day, he could see every glorious curve through the thin material, from the dark coins of her nipples to her flat stomach and the gorgeous, firm lines of chocolate-hued thighs. For a moment, Hank’s mind went completely blank as blood slammed southward. Just hours ago, he’d been inside her.
What he wouldn’t give to be there again…
A long beat passed before Hank realized Juliet’s eyes were fixed on the disassembled weapon on the table with wary curiosity. He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze back to the task at hand. “Morning.” His reply was gruff, and terse enough to scare off a more timid woman.
Juliet, however, merely took another step into the kitchen. “You haven’t slept... at all?”
Now Hank could see the perfect nodules of her tiny toes and sucked in a breath, glaring up at her. “No.” How the hell could he when all he could think about was her in the next room? At the sharpness of his tone, Juliet’s full mouth turned downwards.
“You’re upset.”
Hank lasted another thirty seconds mindlessly slamming working pieces of machinery together before he plunked the piece he was working on down against the table to glare at her in warning. “No fucking kidding I’m upset. Put some clothes on before Bosh or Crowley comes in here.”
Juliet merely arched an elegantly sculpted brow. “Crowley and Bosh? Why would they barge in? They never come this close.” She took a step towards the table and Hank shoved back, doing his best to reign in his baser instincts. “Goddamn it, Juliet. Get dressed.”
To his consternation, her gaze took on a wounded sheen. “Not so gorgeous in the light of day, am I?”
Hank cursed, rising from the kitchen table to turn away from her - in part to gain composure and in part to hide his already burgeoning erection. “That has nothing to fucking do with it and you know it.”
He didn’t like it when women fished for compliments - even if he knew that wasn’t what Juliet was doing. Hank wasn’t blind. He’d seen the burns and old bruises that pockmarked her body. Thinking what Solomon had done to inflict each and every one made him want to wrap his fingers around the man’s neck and squeeze until something broke.
But that didn’t mean Juliet was any less mouthwatering. If anything, he respected her more for the pain she’d gone through.
But that was where it ended - respect.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Hank.” Juliet didn’t approach him. Quite the contrary. Hank listened to her plunk down in the extra chair before he turned to face her. Though he could, quite prominently, see the tips of her breasts through the thin material of the t-shirt, the young woman’s expression had gone carefully neutral as she gazed up at him. She raised her arms to cross over her chest before continuing to speak to him. “I don’t expect anything from you. It was a one-time thing. We both needed a little R&R...and I needed to get away from Solomon. You’ve helped break his hold on me, you know. I have to thank you for that.”
Hank merely stared at her. He didn’t know whether to feel flattered or irked. He might not have gone to a fancy school but he knew how to read between the lines. Juliet was basically admitting that she’d used him. That she didn’t want Solomon Aguiler to be her only anymore.
Fuck if he knew how to respond to that.
“Well fine. Good.” He sank back into his own chair, picking up the pieces of the revolver before him as he scowled at her. “Long as you know it can’t happen again.”
Hank forced himself to swallow the prickle of pride that rose in him at her appearance. He had mussed her hair like that. He had kissed that network of marks into her skin.
Not Solomon.
It felt damned good.
“Of course,” Juliet replied, her tone casual. When she reached towards the implements he worked with, however, Hank stopped her with a hand on her own.
“What’re you doing?”
The young woman smirked - infuriating and sexy all at the same time. “Do you really want to know, or do you just want to manhandle me?”
As tempted as he was by the latter, Hank released her - but Juliet didn’t relinquish the parts she’d picked up. Silently, Hank sat back in his seat to watch as Juliet lined up a bevy of metal pieces in front of her. Without a word, she assembled them. She wasn’t as fast or as proficient as he was - but it was clear she knew her way around a gun. By the time she slid the last piece of the revolver into place Hank was, if anything, even harder than he’d been before.
Not that he was going to let her know that.
“Solomon taught you, I assume?”
“No. Caesar.” Snapping the gun shut, Juliet slid it across the table to him with a bitter smile. “Thought I should know how to defend myself, even if he never really put one in my hand.”
Hank arched a brow. “How were you supposed to shoot if you’d never practiced?”
“I only had one target. If I got cornered, I was supposed to blow my own brains out - keep myself from being taken alive.”
Hank’s stomach twisted violently at the casual tone Juliet used. It reminded him that there was more questioning to be done - and that he was supposed to be the one to do it. To make her recall the instances that hurt her so. “Well, we took you alive.” He finally replied, gruffly. “So no need to worry about that shit anymore. Anyone tries to off you, they have to go through me.”
To his surprise, Juliet’s smile turned from bitter to warm and genuine in an instant - the first genuine smile she’d given him since they were shut in together. “That is comforting.”
Dear God, that smile was dangerous.
Clearing his throat, Hank swept the gun off the table. He needed to change the subject. “I’m leaving tonight.”
The statement was enough to make Juliet’s eyes widen in alarm and Hank rushed to reassure her. “Not permanently. We’re going to start working some of the names and places you gave us and I’m the one they’re sending in. Bosh and Crowley are both coming up here to cover you until I get back, and they’ll have two more agents on standby. You’ll be completely safe.”
Somehow, Juliet still didn’t look too reassured. Hank was about to add that any idiot could protect a mark as long as he had his head on right, and that even Bosh and Crowley had made it through the academy - they couldn’t be total dunces. Juliet, however, beat him to the punch.
“But you won’t be.” Her expression was carefully neutral, but there was a thin undertone of concern that Hank didn’t know whether to be displeased or pissed at.
They had just agreed that that the sex was a one-time thing - which meant this wasn’t a great time to start throwing feelings into the equation. That said...he supposed he was pleased that Juliet wasn’t just throwing him into the fray with zero concern whatsoever. It was obvious she was worried.
But who wouldn’t be worried when the Aguilers were involved?
“It’s just reconnaissance.” His reply was gruff - almost awkward. “Can’t move forward until Simmons gives me the ok. It usually takes two weeks or so to get a bite anyway. If Solomon has been driven just as deeply underground as we think, might take longer.”
“So you’ll be gone for two weeks?” At that, Hank couldn’t help but smirk. She almost sounded like she was going to miss him.
“Not that long.” Hank looked over each gun on the table in turn. Though he had put his together faster, Juliet’s was just as secure. “Probably be back in a few days.” He raised his gaze to look over at her, doing his best to keep his roving eyes well above her neck.
She really needed to put some clothes on...before he did something idiotic. “You should get dressed.” The words were meant to be a dismissal, and Hank found he didn’t care if he hurt her feelings a bit as long as it kept him from jumping her fucking bones. Juliet was just too potent an aphrodisiac in her current state, and he had to keep his mind in the game.
Thankfully, she seemed to get the message. Rising from the table, Juliet turned to start back towards her bedroom. It took every iota of self control Hank possessed not to take in the curves of her mostly bare behind as she walked away. “Juliet.”
She stopped in the kitchen doorway to look back at him and Hank swallowed thickly. “Behave yourself while I’m gone.”
In response to his demand, the young woman only rolled her eyes, even as a small, amused smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “Bosh and Crowley are a lot easier to charm than you. I’ll be fine.”
Hank didn’t feel safe looking up until he heard Juliet’s bedroom door close. Once he did, however, he found himself running a surprising gauntlet of emotions.
He was used to women throwing tantrums when he ended things. Berating him, insulting his masculinity, accusing him of heartlessness. But Juliet had done none of that. Then again, he’d never had an experience like he had with Juliet with any other woman. Sex, Hank told himself, was largely mindless. Satisfying the call of his cock and nothing else. With Juliet, however, he wanted to look at her. Wanted to know he was making her feel good - that he could make her feel good.
It proved that they were both still human.
He was ninety nine point nine percent sure she meant the thing with Bosh and Crowley to be a jibe, but the words still gave him pause. They were going to be alone with her for a few days...heaven help either of them if they tried to make a move.
Scowling, he set his guns aside, pushing back from the table. He needed to do something to occupy his mind until tonight. He might be a hardass but even he knew that contemplating the murder of two agents for something they hadn’t even done yet was fucking ridiculous.
The sooner he started work on this case full tilt, the better - it was the only way he was going to be able to purge Juliet Brown from his system.