Chapter Nine

Adrian

 

She hesitated, despite the conversation we’d just had.

Her teeth crept out from between her dark-pink lips, catching the bottom one and releasing it in a slow drag I couldn’t take my eyes off.

Three hours. Three fucking hours I’d been by her side while she wore the kind of dress that could only be described as sure to be illegal in the fucking future.

Black and simple, it hugged her tight little body from her chest to her knees. The thin straps that curved over her shoulders only added to the deep ‘v’ of the neckline. How the fuck her tits stayed inside that dress was anyone’s guess.

Anyone’s guess, the thing I wanted to find out.

Fuck, why had I ever suggested this? It’d been mere days since I’d found her in a bar the same as so many others in this town. If I’d had any brains the next day, I never would have suggested this shit.

I knew why I did, though. I did it because I thought she’d be unable to resist the allure of the lifestyle she’d lived for so long. A part of me believed I could trap her back into it easily.

I didn’t expect I’d meet with resistance at every corner.

Resistance that came with the sexiest, sassiest mouth I’d ever encountered and the hottest goddamn body to ever cross my path.

I wanted to rip the fucking dress from her body.

Straps.

Bust.

Zipper.

Seams.

All of it.

“Let’s stay a little longer,” she finally said, pressing her hand flat against her stomach. “If…if we can.”

“We can stay as long as you need,” I replied. “Do you want to go somewhere else, or…?”

“Here’s good.” Her voice was small again. “I know there are more people here.”

My eyebrows shot up.

She’d just told me how much she hated this. Now she wanted to stay longer and in this exact place?

“All right. Do you wanna walk around, or…?”

“Lets.” She grabbed her glass of cranberry juice, tucked her purse against her, and tilted her chin upward as if she were looking for an empty space at a table. “Do you gamble?”

“Didn’t we already have this conversation?”

“I think so, but I’m unsure whether or not the conversation I had with you then was you being real or not.”

“It was real.”

She shook her head slowly, looking out over the busyness of the room before us. “Good to know. I just wanted to go somewhere different other than the bar. Sometimes it helps to wander.”

“So, let’s wander.” I pushed off the bar and touched my hand to her back. She stiffened, but it was more of a twitch than anything else. “Where are we wandering?”

“Just around. Your guidelines for arrest are pretty strict, you know?”

“I do know,” I confirmed, sliding my hand around to her hip and moving closer to her. “I can’t arrest someone just because of someone else’s assurance. It’s like a guy walking up to me in the middle of Wal-Mart and telling me he’s just seen the guy in a suit, looking at toasters, kill someone. Not only is it unlikely and improbable in that moment, but the DA would laugh the testimony out of the building.”

“Good to know that my word is worth nothing.”

Foot. Meet Mouth.

“No.” I pulled her off to the side, to a quieter corner where the only person who eyed us was a bouncer who nodded when he recognized me. “Listen to me, Perrie.”

She didn’t look at me. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the damn floor.

“Perrie.” I cupped her chin and forced her head back until we were eye-to-eye. “Your word is worth everything. You find our target and all we have to do is wait until we have a genuine reason to arrest them. Don’t think about it the way you are.”

She sighed, averting her gaze. “Fine. Can we just finish this?”

“I can take you home if you’re done.”

“Let’s do one last walk-through before we do that.” She extracted herself from my arms. Putting her half-full glass on the bar, she turned, leaving me staring after her.

How she could walk so fast in the shoes she was wearing, I didn’t know. They were at least four inches, and while they were the kinds of shoes I’d love to have wrapped around my neck, they were also the stuff of nightmares.

I caught up with her after almost losing her as she zig-zagged through the tables. If it weren’t for the fact her daughter was at my house, probably sleeping by now, I’d have guessed that she was trying to escape me.

Hell, she probably still was. I wouldn’t put it past her.

“Slow down,” I murmured, catching her and pulling her back against me.

She squealed when our bodies made contact. I slid an arm around her stomach, holding her in place against me. Her chest heaved, each breath forcing her stomach to move in and out at the same rate as she was breathing.

“Let me go,” she muttered, wriggling against me.

I did as she asked—almost. Instead of releasing her, I stepped to the side and kept my arm secured around her waist. Only a few hours ago we’d agreed that everything we did was just work, just keeping up appearances, but fuck if my cock didn’t get the memo.

“We’re probably done here,” I said into her ear, guiding her through the maze of tables and chairs and people. “The boys will stay out longer. It’s getting late—you need to get Lola home.”

She opened her mouth before nodding. “Right. She’s not at home.” Her sigh cut through me. “Damn, I’m gonna have to wake her up now.”

I nodded. “Come on. You did good tonight.” I squeezed her into me. “And the good news is that tomorrow is my day off, which means it’s yours too.”

Her expression brightened considerably at that knowledge. “Well, then, let’s go!”

 

***

 

The bed creaked as I rolled over. My cock was rock hard and straining against my boxers, and every position I’d attempted to lie in had been anything but comfortable. I was tired and frustrated thanks to my inability to sleep for very long last night.

If it hadn’t been the neighbor’s dog barking at god knows what in the middle of the night, it’d been the ridiculous dreams I’d had involving a certain blond.

No matter how hard I’d tried, I’d been unable to shake the filthy as fuck dreams about Perrie.

I still couldn’t shake it. My erection was borderline fucking painful, and the clock told me it wasn’t even six in the morning yet.

I flopped onto my back and threw my arm over my eyes. Even with my eyes open, I could still make out the ink that adorned my forearm. The lines and curves that swept across my skin were an intricate pattern of thick and thin, of dark and light, forming roses and letters and dates that mattered.

I pulled my arm away and sat up. The house was completely silent, the echoes of my creaking bedsprings the only sign of life.

My cock throbbed again, and a sleepy lust crept through my veins. There was only one way I was getting rid of this—something I didn’t want to do. Apparently, my body didn’t get that memo.

Groaning, I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. It still smelled like a woman—all flowery, powdery shit. It lingered in a heavy, almost sickly way, but the undertone was clear.

My bathroom smelled like fucking Perrie, and it didn’t help my hard-on at all.

I locked the door and started the shower. I needed to work this out of my system as quickly as I possibly could, even if it meant I would struggle to look her in the eye tomorrow.

I’d never been so fucking thankful for a day off in my life.

Steam filled the room as the shower got up to temperature. I stripped out of my underwear and kicked it into the laundry basket before stepping into the cubicle.

The water was almost scalding. Any other day I would have flinched away from it, but working so closely with Perrie in such dank places…I was thankful for it. I wanted it to burn away the memories of the hours we’d spent together over the past couple of days.

Wanted it to burn away the things I was thinking and feeling. This misplaced attraction, this unwanted desire. I wanted the water to strip it away until I couldn’t feel it any longer.

My cock bobbed as the water hit it. I hissed as it bounced off the tip of my erection, bowing my head so it hit my neck instead. I reached for the soap—that was my first attempt at ignoring the throbbing that pulsed through the length of my dick.

Closing my eyes, I soaped up my body.

It didn’t fucking help.

I was still hard.

Pressing my forearm against the shower wall, I bent right forward and rested my forehead against my arm. The shower water streamed down my back, and I muttered a curse.

I hadn’t been in this position since I was fifteen.

Why the fuck did it have to be now? Why the hell did she have to be the cause of it? Of all the women in the world…It was the one who was off limits who had my hand grasping the base of my cock so I could stroke the frustration out.

I did just that.

Gripped tightly, hoping it would hurt. Hoping it would be more painful than fucking pleasurable, because I felt nothing but dirty doing this. Jerking off over a woman I wrongly wanted.

In my shower.

Like a fucking teenager.

When I came, the rush was purely hormonal.

I scrubbed myself again right after, like it would wash away the feelings on the inside.

It didn’t.

 

***

 

“Dad?”

I paused.

“Dad?”

Looked over my shoulder. Nothing.

“Dad!”

Still nobody in the doorway.

“Dad! Dad! Daaaaaaaaaaad!”

“Are you dying, Zac?” I yelled back at him.

“No!”

“Are ya bleeding?”

“No!”

“Well, then why are you shouting?”

“Daaaad! I have a question!”

“Then come and ask me!”

His groan was so loud I heard it right across the house. His stomps, too. They increased in sound until they finally stopped and he appeared in the door of my small office.

“What are you doing?”

I minimized my browser window and spun around on the computer chair to face him. “Was that seriously your question?”

He shook his head, his wild hair flying everywhere. “No. I was just wondering.”

“What’s your question?”

“Is Lola coming back tonight?”

“Uh, no.” I raised an eyebrow. “It’s my day off. No work today. Same for Perrie. Why?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I was gonna make my bed if she was coming.”

“Zachary,” I said slowly.

He sighed and dropped his lanky frame onto the small armchair in the corner. Picking at a scab on his knee, he muttered, “It was nice to talk to a kid like me.”

I leaned forward and gently tapped his fingers away from the healing cut. “What do you mean, a kid like you?”

“With one parent.” He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at me through a curtain of unruly curls. “You know. Does that make you mad?”

“Mad? Why would it make me mad?”

“Because talking about her always makes you angry.”

“Talking about your mom doesn’t make me angry, Zacco. It makes me upset because you don’t have her anymore.”

He blinked at me. “Do you miss her?”

“Sometimes,” I answered honestly. “But not very often. Do you miss her?”

His eyebrows drew together, causing little creases to form on his forehead. “I’m not sure. She was never really here, was she?”

“Not really.”

“Can you miss somebody you don’t remember very much?”

I leaned back in my seat. How did I answer that? Could you? Did you miss the person or what they were? Did he miss having a mom although she’d never really been one for him?

“See. Now, you’re angry.” He gripped the edge of the chair and shuffled to stand up.

“I’m not angry.” I got up and crouched in front of him. “I don’t know how to answer that question. I’m sorry. I don’t know if you can miss someone you don’t remember. I wish I could answer it for you, though.”

“Oh. Okay.” He eased up on his grip on the chair and relaxed back down. “Lola said she didn’t miss her dad because she couldn’t remember him. So, I thought maybe that’s why I don’t miss mom.”

I dragged my lower lip through my teeth. “Maybe. That could make sense.”

“I think that’s right. Can Lola come back to play soon?”

“We’ll see.”

“Aw, that always means no,” he huffed out and got up.

“It doesn’t always mean no!”

“When has it ever meant yes?”

Shit.

“That,” I said slowly, “I’m gonna have to think about.”

Zac stuck his tongue out to the side and wrinkled his eyes up in a silly face. “See? Never.”

He disappeared before I could come up with a retort, but either way, the kid was right.

“We’ll see” had never meant no.

But maybe, this time, it meaning yes wouldn’t hurt.