Hard to Fight

“You don’t agree, I’ll follow you.”

Shit. “Now who’s the stalker?”

His eyes flare and his lips twitch. “You be back here in an hour, you have a drink with me, maybe I can finally taste those sweet fuckin’ lips—”

“Wait,” I say, putting a hand up. “Say what?”

“Lady,” he murmurs, eyes on my lips. “Been wanting to taste them since I first saw them.”

“You, my friend, have issues. You thought I was crazy only ten minutes ago—now you want my lips?” I shake my head. “I’m taking my cousin home and you’re going to stop talking to me, and you’re going to stop thinking about my lips.”

“This guy really your cousin?” he says with a curled lip, displaying his disgust as he stares at Terry, who is totally tripping now, eyes wide, murmuring useless shit.

“Sadly, yes.”

Raide narrows his eyes.

“I’m surprised you can’t see the family resemblance.”

He snorts and I force back my smile. “Not sure I believe you, lady, but okay. Be back here in an hour.”

“Yeah,” I say. “We’ll see about that.”

I turn to lead Terry to my car, but Raide reaches out again, stopping me. I drop Terry’s arm as Raide spins me toward him. His arm snakes out and curls around my hips, and my breath hitches as he hauls me forward, pressing his body against mine. I swallow hard, trying to look anywhere but at those devastating lips that are … shit … he’s going to—

He kisses me.

My entire world stops.

His lips take mine so quickly, so deeply, I lose my breath. My fingers automatically go up, and I finally get to feel that thick, lush hair. It’s as beautiful as I knew it would be. His kiss is all consuming, making every part of my body tingle with need. His tongue, so soft yet so strong, tangles with mine while his hands run down my body until he’s cupping my ass and grinding my body against his. I feel so tiny in his arms—and God, it feels so good.

Then suddenly he lets me go, his eyes going to Terry. “Hold that thought.”

He steps past me and, in three strides, catches a scrambling Terry, who is too whacked-out to run fast, or far. Raide saw him move, even when he was kissing me. Kissing me … oh my God … he was kissing me! What is wrong with me?! Using my seduction skills to lure him in is one thing, but kissing him? Shit. I could lose my job. Shit. Shit. Shit. This wasn’t supposed to go to kissing. Never to kissing. I’m failing at this job with every second that passes.

“Thought you’d want your cousin,” Raide mutters, thrusting Terry back at my feet.

“Ah, right, thanks. I have to go.”

I take Terry’s arm and drag him to my car, not looking back at Raide, not wanting to see those devastating eyes. I don’t need to remind myself that I just made a mistake—there are no rules against how we bring someone in as such, but Don has always warned us to avoid any physical or emotional connections with our cases. I need to bring Raide in, and I need to do it fast, before this escalates any further.

Tears burn under my eyelids when we reach the car. I blink them away and survey the area to make sure we’re alone, then I pull a pair of zip ties out of my purse and cuff Terry. I angrily shove him into the car. He’s about to pass out, his body weak and wobbly. When he’s in, I slam the door and rush to my side.

“Hey,” Raide calls.

I stop and turn to watch him jogging toward me. Our gazes are locked as he approaches.

“I was wrong about you.” His eyes slowly move over my lips. “I take it back—you’re not a loony.”

“Well, thanks. Now we’re done here.”

“You know it was fuckin’ amazing, Gracie,” he calls.

Jesus.

I get into the car and slam the door.

This isn’t how it was meant to go.

* * *

“Woman, you need to pull this car over,” Terry groans from the backseat.

I shoot him an angry glare through my rearview mirror. “Shut it, Terry. I’m thinking.”

“I’ll chuck,” he threatens.

“You’re just trying to do a runner, but I’ve caught your ass, so sit back and shut up. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m that chick that gets you when you don’t show up for your court hearing.”

“Woman,” he groans again.

Ugh.

I focus on the road and let my mind take me back to the kiss I just shared with Raide only minutes before. I kissed a criminal. I kissed a man I’m supposed to bring in so he can be locked away. God, what is wrong with me? If Don found out, I’d be suspended, at the very least. I’m risking my entire career playing this game with Raide, yet I can’t seem to stop myself.

If I wasn’t driving, I know my eyes would flutter closed at the memory of his mouth on mine. Raide can kiss—boy, can he kiss. Everything inside me melted the moment he put his lips to mine, and now I can think of nothing else. I want all of him. I want more, but I can’t have it. Something deep down in my gut is screaming at me to hand this case over, but my pride won’t let me.

The sounds of retching snap me back to reality, and I pull the car over just in time to see Terry hurl all over my seats. God. Gross. I guess he was telling the truth about needing to vomit. My bad. Still, yuck. I swing my door open and charge around to his side of the car. I take his shirt and haul him out. He stumbles and falls to his knees beside the car, continuing his throwing up.

I take a spare towel from my trunk, which I keep on hand for these exact reasons, and lean in to start scooping up the disgusting-smelling vomit. I’m dry-retching and cursing at Terry, who has suddenly gone quiet. I jerk out of the car and spin to see him running off through the trees. Seriously? With a sigh and a sympathetic look at my heels, I reach down, toss them off, and charge after him.

Because of his drunk, high, and stupid state, I manage to catch Terry before he has even made it half a yard. I reach out, nabbing the back of his shirt and yanking until he stumbles and falls backwards. I lean over and get in his face. “First, you try to drug girls so you can do God knows what with them. Then you throw up in my car. Now you’re trying to pull a runner? Terry, you’re starting to piss me off.”

“Just let me go,” he cries. “I won’t do it again.”

I roll my eyes and order him to his feet. His arms still bound, he slowly gets up. Then, as if running and being caught, twice, wasn’t enough, he starts kicking out at me. I grind my teeth and dodge his foot, but while I’m doing that, he uses his head to slam against mine. My head spins. Terry, who is clearly proud of himself, lunges a third time. I lash out, catching his shoulders and pinching his pressure points so hard, he cripples with a scream.

“You kick me again, you’ll be unable to reproduce, which really, is me doing the world a damned favor. Now, walk.”

He does as he’s told, squealing in pain as I shove him forward. When we reach my car, I pull out the gun from the glove compartment and aim it on him as I unbind his arms and make him clean out every trace of vomit. When he’s done, I shove him in and get in. It still smells, but at least there’s no longer chunks of God knows what spread about.

I bring Terry in and offload him quickly. Julio is the only one there when we arrive, and he does a double take when I shove Terry into the cells in the back rooms, where we hold anyone we collect for the police till they follow up. I know he’s reacting like that to me because I have a black eye. Well, I’m assuming I do given the pain radiating through my skull. But, in typical Julio fashion, he says nothing and just takes Terry, grunting at me.