Ruby

Harry and I had spent most of the day getting ready for tonight, trying to get as much intel and background information as we could on Edwards and the location of the meeting. I knew tonight was important to the case; I just didn’t know how. For Scott to have a note with time and place, we could only assume whoever Edwards was planning to meet had something to do with the people Scott was working for. Possibly the people Scott was trying to protect me from—shit, the people responsible for his death.

We’d done a drive-by and, in the light of day, there hadn’t been much to see, but I had a feeling it would be different story under the cover of darkness.

And I planned on being here to see who showed up.

Until then, I had time to kill and was headed home . . . When had I started thinking of Neco’s apartment as home? Yeah, I lived there. But it wasn’t like Neco and I had sat down and had a conversation about me moving in permanently. I still had stuff at my old place, things I missed.

Me continuing to live there was just sort of a given.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

There was no place I’d rather be, and I knew he loved me, but right now, our relationship was tenuous at best. We were lying to each other, keeping secrets. We were like a couple of tornadoes, devouring everything in our path—each other—then flinging shit all over the place. We fucked like we were starved for each other, tuned to every move the other made, every breath. We also fought like wild cats. It was exhausting and exhilarating all at once. I shouldn’t like the way Neco had come at me when I was sparring with Zeke. Being dragged into a stairwell and fucked in a way that screamed possession should not be something I got off on. Maybe it made me messed up, but I don’t think I’d ever been more turned on in my life.

My stepmother hadn’t wanted me. She’d been the only family I’d had left in the world, and she hadn’t given two shits about me. In fact, I knew she’d hated me. I don’t know if there was a reason for it, or if she was just a hateful bitch. But from the first night I’d run from her, from her vicious, hateful words, and found myself at Neco’s house, wrapped protectively in his arms, him begging me not to cry anymore, I’d known I was somehow his. That he was my safe place, my home.

My father died when I was just a baby. I didn’t remember anything about him. Neco was the first person that I truly knew cared for me. He’d protected me, treated me like I mattered, and that made me feel more loved than I ever had in my life.

So yeah, my view on love and healthy relationships was skewed, but so was Neco’s, and right now we were desperately trying to figure it out.

One thing I knew for sure, though—I wanted to be his. I was his. But I wanted him to be mine as well, all of him, and right now he was holding back from me. He’d buried himself under a pile of fear and anger. Had used control to lock those feelings down deep so he didn’t have to deal with them.

Somehow, I had to get through to him.

When I got home, I ordered dinner, and was dishing up Chinese takeout when Neco finally walked in the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He dumped his keys on the coffee table and came straight to me, pulling me into his arms. “You have a good day?”

Fighting down the guilt, I smiled up at him. “Yeah.” He bent his head and kissed me, hard and deep, then lifted his head. “I gotta go back out later, but I’ve got time to have dinner with my girl first.”

“Good, I got plenty.”

We sat on the couch and made short work of dinner, making small talk. It was obvious neither one of us wanted to fight, and I was more than good with that. We needed to reconnect, spend time together as a couple. God, the sooner this whole mess was over with, the better.

I cleared the containers away and dumped them in the trash. “You want a drink?” I called, glancing back at Neco.

He shook his head, stretching out on the couch, then crooked a finger at me. “Come here.”

My belly whooshed and my knees felt a little weak as I walked over and joined him on the couch.

He immediately dragged me over him. One of his knees was bent, resting against the back of the couch, the other down, foot on the floor. I was resting between his spread thighs, our bellies and chests plastered together. My nipples started tingling, and so did farther south.

He slid his fingers into my hair, eyes locked on mine. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I whispered.

His lips curved up on one side. “You wanna make out?”

“Yes,” I said instantly.

He chuckled. “You going to let me cop a feel?”

I gave him a coy look. “Over the bra or under?”

“Under,” he said voice getting deeper, rougher.

“Okay. But I’m a good girl, so we need to take it slow.”

He groaned. He was fully hard now, pressed against my pubic bone. But the way we were lying, keeping my legs firmly pressed together, was pure torture.

“Will you let me put my hand down your pants?” he rasped.

“Over the panties or under?” I said, hearing the needy rasp in my own voice.

His eyes were the color of jade now, dark but bright, mesmerizing. “Under.”

My breathing was a little choppy and I squirmed, squeezing my legs together tighter. We both groaned. “Okay, but you need to tell me you love me first.”

“I love you,” he said in a rough whisper. “So fucking much.”

My heart started pounding in my chest. “I love you, too.”

“Kiss me,” he said.

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I pressed my mouth to his, a soft moan escaping when he tilted his head and spiked his tongue past my lips, kissing me hard and deep. My toes curled.

He slid his bent knee down and tugged mine apart, shoving his thigh back up against my now hot, aching flesh. I ground down against him.

He didn’t stop kissing me while we dry humped like horny teenagers. His hand slid down the back of my pants, cupping and squeezing my ass, skin to skin.

“Fuck, Ruby,” he said against my lips, pulling his hand free, moving it to the front. He tugged at the button of my jeans, shoving down the zipper, and then his fingers were between my thighs, sliding over my slick flesh. “Baby,” he muttered, on a rough exhale, then started rubbing my clit in a maddening way that had me panting. “Ride my fingers, sweetheart.”

I did, while I worked the front of his jeans open and shoved my hand inside, curling my fingers around his thick, hard length, and started stroking.

We attacked each other’s mouths after that, not stopping as we worked at getting each other off. He slid a finger deep inside me and I broke apart on a cry.

He cursed and his hips surged up and I knew he was about to come. Last time I’d had him in my mouth, he hadn’t let me taste him, and I wanted to taste him, more than anything. So, I slid down his body, before he knew what I was doing, forcing his hand free of my pants as I did, and sucked his cock into my mouth, as deep as I could take him.

His hips rolled up again, fingers tangling in my hair, fisting. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

The thick vein on the underside pulsed against my tongue, his groans filling the room as I sucked him deep over and over again. I shoved my free hand up his shirt, reveling in the feel of his abs bunching and flexing against my palm every time I sucked him hard, the way his solid thighs flexed either side of me.

Then his hips jerked and he started coming. I gloried in it, in his shout and growls, the way his body shook under me, and swallowed him down, everything he had. I sucked him until he started to soften, then finally I released him with a pop, and looked up at him.

His eyes were aimed at me and for the first time in a long time, they were warm, soft. It was a beautiful sight to see.

I grinned. “I take it you liked that?”

He dragged me back up, cupping my jaw, and tugged me down for a hard kiss, tasting himself on my tongue. When we broke apart, he stroked his thumb across my cheek, my chin. “I’m still trying to get it through my head that this is my reality,” he said. “That you’re finally mine.” He kissed me again softly. “That this is real.”

“Neco . . .”

“I’m not going to wake up in my bed alone and this be some beautiful dream, am I?”

I nuzzled his jaw. “If it is, I must be dreaming, too. Let’s make a pact never to wake up,” I whispered.

The softness in his eyes got even softer, and then we were kissing again, achingly slow, full of everything we were feeling.

He tightened his arms around me. “Ruby . . . I think we need to talk . . .”

Someone knocked at the door.

He cursed and I wanted to do the same. “Hunt’s here to pick me up.”

I nodded, wanting desperately for him to finish that sentence. He didn’t move straight away, kissing me again instead—until there was another knock.

I climbed off him reluctantly and we did up our pants. Neco strode to the door and yanked it open.

Hunter’s eyebrows were high. “What took you so long?” Then his eyes drifted to me and a grin curled his lips. “Hey, Ruby.”

My cheeks heated, guessing what I looked like. I reached up and ran my fingers though my hair. “Hey, Hunter.”

“Sorry to interrupt you kids, but we’ve got some place to be.”

Neco shook his head, ignoring his friend, scooped up his keys from the coffee table, then came to me and planted a hard kiss in my lips. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. It’ll be late. Lock up after me?”

I nodded and offered a little wave when he turned back to me before he walked out the door.

I stared after him for a long time. I wanted more of that. Of the tender kisses, the beautiful moments.

But until we knew who was behind that website, Neco wouldn’t rest. We wouldn’t get our happily ever after.

Heading to our room, I quickly switched to my contact lenses, then changed into dark jeans and a navy long sleeve T-shirt, tied my hair back in a ponytail, and dragged on my jacket. I slid my gun into the back of my jeans, and my new Taser in my bag, then fired a quick text to Harry before I left, telling him I’d be there to pick him up shortly.

Scooping up my keys, I headed out.