London sat on the edge of her bed and started to lift the hem of her top. Wait…should she undress or still be clothed? Heath hadn’t instructed her to be naked. Was that even part of the deal she’d just made?
Maybe she should pose on the bed half naked like some seductive siren? Except she’d likely look as stiff as a board as she sucked in her belly and hoped she wasn’t showing a double chin.
“Oh, for God’s sake.” She stood and moved to her side of the bed. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t a virgin, so why all the stressing?
But wouldn’t any sane woman get the jelly wobbles, knowing Heath was entering their bedroom to take control?
Maybe, but standing and nervously waiting made her appear needy.
A small pile of blue on the cream colored carpet snagged her gaze. Oh, heck, her panties from earlier today. Yikes. She kicked them under the bed and did a quick scan to ensure no other stray clothing was in sight. This is what happened when she ran late for an appointment and dashed around her room like a maniac changing clothes, running to the bathroom and back—like this afternoon.
She pulled back the peacock blue patterned bedcover and white sheets. The cotton felt crisp and clean under her fingers. Thank God she’d changed the sheets this morning.
In under a minute, London had her top and skirt off, leaving her in a matching set of emerald colored panties and bra, and her black stilettos.
Placing her clothing on the small chair in the corner, she reached up and unhooked the front of her bra.
“Don’t move.”
She froze under the force of Heath’s deep voice.
His gaze swept over her in a long, leisurely study as he stood in the bedroom doorway. His hard, masculine face gave nothing away, leaving her guessing…and vulnerable. A quiver of anticipation fluttered over her skin. And wasn't that what he wanted? She'd agreed tonight he was in command. In here. In her bedroom.
He moved closer. No, he stalked, stopping a foot away. Big hands gripped her hips in a firm hold, but she was already caught, held by his piercing stare.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
She obeyed, feeling a giddy rush of joy at the approval in his gaze.
One hand moved from her hips to the front of her bra. He pushed the cup of her bra aside.
She dropped her gaze to her breasts. Her nipples had drawn into tight peaks. How would they look caught between Heath’s fingers as he rubbed them…or—she bit her lip—pinched them?
“Eyes on me.”
Her gaze flew back to his. Each time he spoke in that commanding tone, a lash of excitement sizzled down to between her legs. She cupped her hands together behind her back, and the sense of powerlessness was…instant and palpable. Even more so since the only thing stopping her moving was her—and the hard, knowing stare of the man standing so close.
“Better.” Heath hooked a finger under the strap of her bra and slid it down her arm, quickly followed by the other so the material hung around her wrists. He brushed his knuckles against her breast, tracing the curve.
She couldn’t hide her shiver.
His eyes lit. “Lovely.” He pinched her nipple between two fingers, tugging on the bud.
Pleasure rippled over her skin with each pull. His touch was firm but not rough. Her low, throaty moan filled her head as he rolled the pointed bud. The urge to grip his shoulders and hang on was overwhelming. She clasped her hands tighter behind her back.
“You like that, Red?” His fingers pinched harder, the sense of burning increasing slowly, building and building until her mouth opened on her gasp.
“Yes,” she breathed out.
“And now?” The pressure on her nipple grew. “You like your sugar with some bite. Remember, London?”
God she did. In the café. He’d teased her. And she’d bantered back, but she hadn’t guessed—
“Pain serves more than a corrective purpose. Done right, pain and dominance bring pleasure. Forces a person past taboos and fears she never knew she had.” His other hand moved from her hip to clench her bottom. “You want to go there, London?” His fingers dug into her butt cheek. His touch now rough, forceful.
And she loved it.
London stared at his shrewd gaze. Always assessing. Always knowing. She couldn’t deny him the truth. “Yes. But…” Oh, there definitely was a but. His touch tantalized her, shocked her with the amount of pleasure she’d gained. Even so, everyone had their limits. “I’m not…” She sucked in a breath as he slowly rolled her nipple. The slow burn of arousal low in her belly intensified into a bright flame, incinerating her train of thought. She blinked, forcing the rest of her words out. “…a fan of serious pain.”
He released her nipple and strummed the now throbbing bud with his thumb. Each slow flick fired another shot of arousal through her body. And dammit, she really had to concentrate on his answer.
“Neither am I. You have nothing to fear.” Heath ran the edge of his fingernails over the skin not covered by her panties. “Well, within reason.”
He tugged her hair, forcing her head to the side and exposing her neck. A whiff of her floral perfume—roses and something else—teased his nostrils. “I appreciate the lingerie, babe.” He kissed along her neck. The stubble shadowing his jaw gently prickled her skin with each caress, triggering a volley of shivers over her shoulders and up her neck. “But I want you naked.” Hooking his thumb in the side of her panties, he dragged them down to her knees and let gravity do the rest.
Next, he grabbed the bra hanging at her wrists. She unclasped her hands, and he tossed the green silky garment onto her chair.
That just left… London glanced down at her black stiletto heels.
“Leave them on.”
She glanced up. “But—”
“I want to feel them digging into my back when your legs are wrapped around me.”
Oh. My. God.
His lips found hers in a swift, demanding kiss. Still held captive by his hand in her hair, she let herself fall deeper under the spell of his dominance. And with her hands once more clasped behind her, the sense of submission was only heightened.
Slowly, he released his grasp on her hair and guided her to the side of the bed. “Lie down on your back. Bend your knees and spread your legs.”
She did as ordered, the growing wave of anticipation outpacing any nerves.
“Wider.” Heath indicated her legs with a nod as he unbuttoned his shirt. “I want to see all of you.”
Her face heated. Opening herself right up to his gaze… She’d never lain so bare before for a man. Usually, with sex, the lights were off, but with Heath that obviously wasn’t an option.
She pushed her thighs wider and was rewarded with the flash of hunger in his blue gaze.
Heath’s shirt hit the floor, revealing a broad, muscled chest, which tapered to a slim waist and narrow hips. He removed his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and took out a small foil package. Then he undid his belt and pants and leaned forward, treating her to a view of the bunched muscles of his shoulders as he pulled off his boots. Seconds later, he was fully naked and standing over her. His hard erection was thick and just the right length.
For days, she’d lived with imagined versions of Heath without his usual jeans and shirt. The reality was infinitely better.
“Put your hands under your head.” He watched as she obeyed. “How does it feel, not having your hands free?”
Strange. Sexy. She wiggled her backside against the bedding. “It feels…daring. Like I’m taking a huge chance and I don’t know what’s in store.”
His gazed darkened with predatory intent, sending a sliver of hungry need to the center of her femininity. “No, you don’t.”
He opened the foil package, sheathed himself, and tossed the packaging in the small waste bin beside her cherry wood nightstand.
Heath lay on his side next to her on the bed and ran his fingers over her breasts, skimming the nipples as they pebbled under his touch. His hand dipped lower, tracing the top of her pussy, her hips. All the time, he denied her his touch between her legs and the now throbbing bundle of nerves aching for his attention.
He lowered his head and licked her nipples, ever so gently running his teeth over the very tip of each bud.
London gasped, loving the sensations, the danger of wondering if he’d bite them.
Heath moved lower in the bed, his head now above her pussy. “I like you open to me like this.” His fingertip brushed over the outer lips of her pussy, sliding with ease over her desire-slickened skin.
She jolted at his touch, her anticipation so high… God, if she was that nervy at the stroke of his fingertip how would be she when—
He flicked his tongue on the very tip of her clit.
“Ahhhh” Her words sounded like a pleasure-filled sigh. She closed her eyes as he licked lazy circles around her clit. Her body relaxed against the soft bedding as she gave herself over to the sheer bliss of him teasing her sensitive bud.
“You taste fucking fantastic.” Heath said close to her skin. He used his thumbs to spread her wide, before running his tongue over the length of her pussy.
Her groan was low and needy, each sweep of his tongue drawing her into a swirling firestorm of desire. One moment he ran his tongue back and forth across her inner lips, then he switched to gentle suction on her clit. Every caress was geared to leave her wanting more, breathing harder.
She raised her knees and dug the heels of her stiletto shoes into the bedding.
He was so close to pushing her over. A few more seconds and—
Heath lifted his head and studied her body.
London stared, horrified, as he used his hands to rub her inner thighs in long firm strokes, each time squeezing the flesh as he neared her pussy.
“What?” She frowned up at him. “Why did you stop?”
His blue gaze hardened. “You forget yourself, London.” The dark warning in his voice froze her in place. “Who’s in charge?”
“You, but I want—” She broke off as he spanked her inner thigh. Her gasp drew a smile from the handsome bastard. The zing of pain turned into a burn of pleasure that rushed straight to her core. This didn’t… How could she be getting off on mild pain? She couldn’t find the words to voice a denial.
“Answer me.” He rose up on his knees, blocking out the overhead light. Now backlit, his large, powerful body held an aura of dominance and danger. Such a heady mix. “Who’s in charge?”
For a moment she couldn’t speak, caught up in the wonderful sensation of helplessness, which fed a submissive need she never knew existed.
But was fast coming to enjoy.
His hand trailed over the still smarting skin of her bottom. His warning was clear.
Yikes.
“You,” she rushed out. “I’m still learning, Heath.” Surely he understood?
“Indeed you are.” He ran his hands up her sides, fingers and palms splayed wide, and cupped her breasts. “My job’s to keep you where I want you.” He massaged the swollen, sensitized flesh. “Which is exactly where you want to be also.” He lowered his head, sucking one nipple and then the other, drawing on the pointed buds. “Even if you don’t realize it at first.”
A bit sure of himself? “How do you know?”
“Because you haven’t used your safe word,” he stated. “And because of this…” With no warning, he reached down and thrust two fingers deep inside her, swirling and stroking in a shockingly confident maneuverer that caused her to arch off the bed.
“Oh, God.” Each stroke was like a spark igniting delicate nerves, sending a whirling tornado of pleasure along the walls of her core. Deep shudders overtook her, growing ever fiercer under his expert touch. “Please, please Heath. Let me come.”
His fingers slowed, his touch softened.
But, but…he wouldn’t stop. Would he? She wanted to cry out; instead, she looked up into Heath’s unyielding stare.
“Do you want my dominance, Red?” His continued torment mocked his gentle tone. “Will you trust me to do whatever I want?” He brushed over her g-spot in a whisper-soft stroke. She whimpered in frustration. “Whenever I want?” Another stroke, this time longer but more faint, driving her to desperation. “However I want?” He stilled his fingers, leaving them inside.
“Yes. God, yes.” Pressing the pads of her fingers into the back of her clasped hands, she bit her lip against crying out.
A knowing gleam entered his gaze. “You’re not saying that just to get what you want?”
Fuck yes.
“I—” She broke off, unable to meet his stare. Shoot. “I want both.” That at least was true. And not for the first time she was reminded Heath missed nothing. She licked her lips. “You’ve proven I want you in control.” Dragging in a quick breath, she pleaded, “P-please, Heath, I need to come.”
“Then you shall.” He lay down and closed his mouth over her clit, sucking the tortured bundle of nerves as he pumped his fingers inside of her.
She cried out, unable to focus as a blinding wave of pleasure rose so high, then crashed over her, carrying all thought away with its force.
Heath was merciless, licking and sucking even as she bucked her hips in a desperate attempt to control the impact of his devastatingly skillful mouth. Hard, strong hands pressed down on her pelvis, keeping her in place.
She begged, cried out, even cursed. Nothing would stop Heath as twice he drove her to orgasm, the second coming as a sweet agony.
Only when he was satisfied and had taken his fill did he lean up on one elbow. “We’ve only just started.”
Oh, sweet Lord.
Heath didn’t give her time to worry.
He positioned himself above her and entered, filling her slowly, one thrust, then another, giving her precious time to stretch to accommodate him. A pleasurable burn ran along her core. His muscular frame filled her vision. She wanted to touch those shoulders, feel the strength underneath.
“Heath, I need to touch you.”
His smile belied the hard, controlled manner of the man. “Go ahead.”
She lifted her hands, running her fingers over the toned muscles flexing under her caress. Such strength. That power could protect—and control—in equal measure.
A wondrous shiver rippled through her. Under his control. In her bed. The thought bestowed only pleasure.
Heath leaned down, capturing her mouth as he pushed harder with his thrusts, going deeper. On instinct, she lifted her hips, and he sank right to the root of his cock.
She broke off their kiss at the fullness of his invasion. He was so…big. Her breath caught as she spasmed around him.
“Jesus, you’re a fucking perfect fit,” Heath almost growled. He pumped faster as her body rocked from his taking. “Wrap your legs around me. I wanna feel those heels of yours.”
Hell yes.
She lifted her legs, at first wrapping them tight and squeezing her thigh muscles. His pelvis rubbed her clit, stealing her breath. Reluctantly, she lessened her hold so the heels of her shoes scraped over his back.
He threw his head back, exposing his muscled neck. “Fuck, yes.” His rough groan filled her with joy. She wanted to pleasure him in every intimate way possible.
He angled the thrust of his cock to hit her g-spot. Over and again. Soon she wasn’t conscious of anything other than the hypnotizing ecstasy beginning to engulf her. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she held on for dear life.
“Heath, I can’t last. It’s j-just”—she sucked in a breath—“too m-much.” Clenching her teeth, she squeezed her eyes shut against the rolling thunderstorm of pleasure about to strike.
“Then don’t hold back, Red. Fly with me.” Heath drew out, then in one brutal thrust, plunged into her, dragging his cock over her most sensitive spot.
Her world disintegrated around her, shattering into a million pieces of pure rapture. The muscles of her inner walls clenched around Heath’s cock, her body embracing his taking of her, reveling in the carnality of the act. Pleasure fired from every nerve. Hard, breath-stealing shudders racked her body as Heath drove himself into her, three, four times before his body shook under her frantic grip.
Dimly, she heard his guttural cry of release as she gave herself over to the exquisite bliss vibrating through her system. Nothing mattered except this moment.
The muscles in her legs quaked from exhaustion. London slid them down over Heath’s hips. She lay sprawled underneath him.
With a deep sigh, Heath rested on top of her for a few seconds. The weight of his body on hers somehow felt like…a claiming. She soaked up the heaviness, the hardness of his build against the giving softness of hers.
Too soon, Heath propped himself back on his forearm, removing his weight. He stared down at her, his forehead sheened with sweat, his hair mussed. From her hands? She must look equally disheveled.
And…oh, heck, her mascara. She wiped at her eyes, cringing at the black smudge on the side of her finger.
“London.”
She dropped her hand at his deep, authoritative tone.
He pushed back a damp lock of hair from off her face and traced a line down to her lips. “You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do now.”
She stilled, not drawing a breath, not blinking before reality crashed in. “I look like I’ve waged war with a sauna,” She grimaced “And lost.”
“No.” His finger pushed down on her lips, silencing her. “You look thoroughly fucked.” He claimed her mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. She capitulated, her mouth opening for his tongue. He swept inside her, tasting her as she joined him, kissing him back. By the time he lifted his head, her lips felt slightly swollen. “And now thoroughly kissed.”
He pulled out of her, and no way could she stop her answering moan as light ripples shot along the core of her still sensitive flesh. Heath glanced at the nearly closed door on the right of her bed. “Master bathroom?” he asked as he removed and tied off the condom.
“Uh-huh.” She tried not to shiver as the air in the bedroom hit her damp skin.
Heath grasped one of her hands and pulled her to sit on the side of the bed. “Shower big enough for two?”
Now there was an idea. “Detective Justice, that question warrants further investigation.” She giggled as he pulled her off the bed and herded her into the master en suite.
****
Twenty minutes later, showered and refreshed, Heath laid his phone on the dark wood nightstand next to London’s bed. He’d accepted her invite to stay the night. Getting to spend more time with her snuggled in his arms wasn’t something he’d pass up. And he’d have an easy trip home tomorrow morning with both of them living in Green Lake and his house only a few blocks away.
From her side of the bed, London glanced over her shoulder as she checked the alarm setting on her beside clock. “Five a.m. okay? Will that give you enough time to get home and change clothes? I know Derek expects you in early.”
“Perfect.” He waited until she finished with the clock before hooking an arm around her belly and dragging her back against his side.
Curves and softness in all the right places, her body fit perfectly against his. He rubbed his chin over the top of her head. “How you feeling?” He’d held back tonight. No cuffs. More interested in giving her a taste of his domination and letting her feel her way.
“I’m good.” She turned onto her back, her gaze bright. “I get the feeling you went easy on me.”
He shrugged. “No point scaring you off at the beginning. We can try cuffs next time. Essentially, dominance is more about me being in control and testing your limits. The last part especially is a gradual journey. We’re not trying to break the sound barrier in one go.”
She chuckled. “Good thing. The whole ‘g-force cheeks fluttering’ thing isn’t a good look for me.”
He loved her self-depreciating sense of humor. “Noted.” He smiled to himself and gave her a squeeze, before settling her back against him.
“Heath?” Her voice ended higher, prompting a question.
“Yeah?” Once more, he lowered his head to the pillows.
“I’m curious about something, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to answer, but I think it would help us get to know each other better.”
They’d just shared as intimate an act as two people could. He could handle a simple question. “Ask away.”
“Can you tell me some more about your family?”
“My brothers?” Fair question. He hadn’t shared much.
“Both your families. The one you had as a kid, too.”
He stiffened, and he could tell she felt his body tense when hers did the same. He rarely talked about the family from his childhood. And even giving them that title seemed…odd. But what the fuck should he call them? The family I helped kill?
At his continued silence, London shifted against him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s okay.” He ran a hand over her hair, wanting to reassure her. “I’m not used to talking about them with anyone other than my brothers.” And Aurora when she’d been alive. With her understanding gaze and gentle manner, he’d been able to confide his conflicting emotions about mourning one family and embracing another.
“Mum’s name was Vicky. She was a midwife at the local hospital.” He still pictured her navy scrubs hanging on the clothesline. “Sometimes new parents would give her presents.” Boxes of chocolates she’d share when she got home. “She had gorgeous, dark wavy hair that fell all the way down her back.” The same color as his. “And the best laugh. Dad used to joke with her so he could see her smile.” Anthony Hudson adored his wife, told Heath he was the luckiest man in the world when she’d agreed to marry him.
“My dad, Anthony, was middle management at an insurance company.” Tall and with blue eyes just like his son, he’d been a good provider. “He always had time for us kids, no matter how busy he was. Never said no when I wanted to practice passing the footy in the backyard.” “Good throw, son.” Heath could almost feel his dad’s hand ruffling his hair in a sign of approval.
“And you had a sister?”
“Michelle. She was sixteen. Three years older than me. We drove Mum and Dad nuts with our arguing.” Boys, lip gloss and obsessing over her weight consumed Michelle. Heath had bugger all in common with his sister. “God, you’re so gross” was her favorite greeting. And Heath wasn’t any better, ribbing her unmercifully. Fighting was their main way of communicating.
And the final way they ever addressed each other.
“She was sixteen at the time of the accident?” London gently clarified.
“Yeah.” Funny that. He always described Michelle in terms of the car accident. Not how she looked, or the many years before, when they’d got on fine. Joked together. Before boys. Before puberty.
Before the crash.
“You remember I told you my family was killed in a car accident?”
Her hair brushed his chin as she nodded.
“I was in the car, too. Survived with only a few cuts and bruises.” He’d sat in the back of an ambulance, refusing the blanket the paramedic tried to drape over his shoulders, and watched as the broken bodies of his family were removed from the crumpled mess that had been their family sedan.
London’s hands rubbed his forearm in gentle comfort where it rested on her belly. He liked the fact she didn’t offer any platitudes of sympathy. Her touch meant more right now.
“Can I ask how it happened?”
Fuck, what a loaded question. Heath focused on saying the words and not the churning in his gut.
“We were on our way to the movies. Star Wars, Phantom Menace.” He’d done extra chores so he could buy himself the biggest bucket of popcorn. “Michelle had spent ages getting ready, so I’d started teasing her, being an annoying shit.” ‘You made us late again. What if your precious boyfriend won’t wait and goes in with another girl?’ “She gave back twice as hard.” ‘At least I won’t be sitting with mum and dad like some little kid.’ His mum had no patience left after a long shift at work. ‘For God’s sake, Heath, give it a rest.’ “Dad turned back to tell us to behave.” ‘Shut up the pair of you.’ “He wasn’t watching the road.”
Because of him. Maybe, if his dad hadn’t been breaking up their fight and had been facing front, a precious few seconds to swerve…
But he had robbed his dad of that chance.
Heath dragged in a breath and exhaled slowly, but nothing could assuage the guilt, which festered like an open wound on his soul. Some sins could be washed away; he’d carry this one for life.
“A drunk driver missed a red light. Plowed into the driver’s side of our car.” No warning came. One moment his dad looked over his shoulder at Heath, the next, a massive force slammed into them. The deafening noise of steel being crushed and twisted. A piercing scream. Then the world spun and squeezed around him as the car became so much smaller, everything squashed tight against him.
He sat there, stuck in the back passenger seat, warm liquid flowing down one side. Later, he’d see it was his sister’s blood.
“Dad and Michelle never stood a chance, copping the full impact. The collision propelled our car into a street lamp. Mum’s body was crushed by the force.”
Catastrophic injuries. That was the term the coroner used.
And Wade McMannas—drunk, disoriented, staring blindly as onlookers rushed to help—walked out of his car and sat in the gutter. Not a mark on him.
The two people most at fault had survived.
London’s grip on his arm tightened. “And the drunk driver?”
“Found guilty of three charges of manslaughter under Australian law.” High-range alcohol reading with a long history of drunk-driving offenses. “Got twenty years. Be out in three.” Less than seven years for each of Heath’s family members.
Heath clamped down on the anger that rose up like poisonous lava in a nearly erupting volcano.
She turned in bed to face him and cupped the side of his face in her hand, her touch gentle, consoling. “I can’t imagine how that must have been for you.” Lifting her chin, she kissed him on his jaw and snuggled against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her, hugged her tight. No pitying remarks or polite platitudes from London. He appreciated she recognized he wasn’t a man for either. Her genuine sadness and gentle comfort touched him deeper than he could have imagined.
“My dad’s brother, Uncle Sean, took me in.” A good guy who had no fucking idea what to do with a lost and lonely kid. “But a few months later, he suffered a heart attack at work. There were no foster families at such short notice, so they sent me to a juvenile detention center.”
He ignored her gasp and kept on, needing to get the words out, to tell her everything so he wouldn’t have to repeat the story again. “I landed there scared out of my fucking wits. I didn’t look sideways at anyone.” A kid from a loving family was all soft around the edges compared to the hardened teenagers who fought against the system.
And then there were the guards.
“One of the dormitory supervisors decided to teach me the rules when I forgot to call him ‘Sir’.” Short, stocky, the bastard’s crewcut hair and jowly face swam in front of Heath. The man’s punishing grip on his arm had hurt like hell, but Heath didn’t want to be a crybaby. “He took me to the bathroom.” White tiled walls and gray cement floors with showers along one side. No stalls. No privacy. ‘I don’t take shit from any kid.’ “Threw me against the wall and beat the crap out of me.” He felt London’s hand on his chest, but his focus was elsewhere. The first blow had sent him to his knees. The second, a kick to the ribs, doubled him over. The third… ‘Please, I h-haven’t d-done anything.’ Hard, cold laughter greeted his pleading. ‘That’s how it’s gonna stay. You wanna be my little bitch? I could make you—’
“Then Adam and Zach walked in.”
And for the third time in his life, everything changed in an instant.
“What happened?” London’s asked.
“They taught the guard a lesson of their own.” Heath had crawled to sit against the tile wall, drawing in aching breaths, and watched in horrified wonder as the two teenagers punched the living shit out of the short prick. “I’d never seen anything like it before in my life. They were six foot each and already could fight like grown men.” Not until the guard was unconscious on the ground, blood running from his split lips and eyebrow, did they stop.
“Adam and Zach knew running was their only option. They offered me a chance to go with them.” Zach had crouched down in front of him, bloodied knuckles and all. ‘What’s your name?’ He answered and Zach looked back to Adam who stood there, a scary hard look on his face as he nodded to Zach. ‘You can hang around here or leave with us. Ferguson has you marked. Be smart.’
Considering his desperate position, Heath believed he had nothing to lose. “They took the guard’s keys and wallet. Busted open an office window, and we got out a side gate.” Darkness had provided excellent cover.
Ferguson was stupid enough to keep the PIN for his bank’s keycard in his wallet. The money proved useful. “Adam hotwired a car and drove us into Sydney.”
Heath hung close to the two street-smart boys, watching and learning. It amazed him now to think they’d avoided being caught by the cops in King’s Cross, but Sydney’s infamous red-light district had rules of its own. And Adam and Zach had contacts, the kind that wouldn’t give them over to the police.
“For twelve months it was the three of us before Adam saved Seth’s arse when he was about to be knifed in an alley, and three became four.” He shrugged. “Then we rescued Dillon from drowning at Bondi Beach and met Aurora Justice.”
And once again, Heath’s life took a dramatic turn.
When the silence stretched out, Heath glanced down to see London starting at him, her mouth partially open.
“What?”
“Your story’s the kind of plot line friends of mine write in their novels.”
“Sometimes life is stranger than fiction.”
Her brow creased. “And you lost Dillon only a month ago.” She shook her head. “That seems so unfair.”
A soul-crushing heaviness filled his chest, like a mountain of regret and grief warred for supremacy.
“Dillon…” he began, then broke off. Fuck, how the hell did he say this? Straight out. “Dillon held a side of himself secret after Aurora adopted Adam, Zach, Seth and me.” At London’s confused gaze, he pushed on. “Turns out he wasn’t so thrilled to have us join the family. Over a period of time, he planned to ruin us all. Nearly succeeded.”
When he thought back over the effort his older brother had gone to… Christ, the bastard had been committed to his goals. “Tried to sabotage Seth selling his company to Fox. Set me up for investigation by my superiors with a bogus bribe payment to my bank account. Outed Adam’s black ops history on the ’net for all his enemies to see.”
His dry laugh lacked any amusement. “The only one he didn’t target was Zach, because he’s Milly’s dad, and Dillon loved that kid.” What a twisted fucking paradox that was.
“Jesus, Heath.” London’s shocked expression stood as testament to the totally fucked up nature of his brother’s revenge.
“Dillon didn’t die in an accident or from some cancer, London.” He gazed down at her, needing to see her face as he said the words. “He took Harper hostage and was going to kill her. He’d already murdered three other people by the time we found them in a warehouse.” He paused, watching her confused frown turn into wide-eyed horror. “We had no choice. Lincoln, Adam and I shot him.”
And took out their brother.
“He, he killed people?” The horrified tone in her voice reflected the feeling in Heath’s gut. “But, hang on, who’s Lincoln? Another cop?”
Christ, he’d missed that step. “Lincoln is Seth’s brother. They were separated as kids. Lincoln tracked him here to Seattle.” At her raised eyebrows, he explained. “The guy’s in the Australian SAS. He doesn’t take no for an answer. And he wanted to find his brother. Everything happened at the same time.”
“And this was a month ago?”
“Yeah. And now Harper’s dad turns up murdered.” He sighed. “There’s…a lot going on right now. Stuff I can’t share. But I can say Adam’s been hired by Harper’s mum to investigate her husband’s death.”
“Holy cow.” London did a slow blink. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing to say.” And he’d said more than he’d intended to. “Life happens, and you deal with it and move on.” He rolled onto his back and tucked her into his side, done with this topic—and the feelings the memories had stirred up.
“Heath—”
“Red, you asked me about my family. I shared. And that has more to do with me thinking you have a right to know since I’m liking you, enjoying our time together, and what I told you about Dillon would come out sooner or later, and I’d rather you hear it from me.” He squeezed her with his arm. “I’ve had a really good night with a great girl, and I don’t want to spend the next hour picking over the details of a man who, it turns out, never wanted me as a brother in the first place. What I want to do is hold you while we both get some sleep.” He rubbed the back of his knuckles over her hip. “Can you do that for me, babe?”
Her body softened against him, and she rested her hand over his chest. “Yeah, honey, I can.”
“Look, up,” he ordered, before he caught her mouth in a kiss. If he was honest, the gesture was more for him than her. He wanted the taste of her sweetness and the memory of her soft lips filling his head and banishing away other thoughts. For a few hours at least.
Hours later, the ring of his phone woke him. He reached over, muttering a soft apology to London who stirred, then rolled back to sleep.
He glanced at the caller ID and then answered. “Adam?”
“We got a lead on Fox’s deal with the Russians,” he stated. “About to see a contact. You want in?”
Heath swung out of the bed. “Of course.” Then a thought struck him. “Have you called Agent Tollison? What about Kennedy and Faulkner?” His fellow detectives would want to be included.
“No, I want to check this out first. Meet us at The Brown Jug in thirty minutes.”
Heath froze in the process of reaching for his pants. “That’s Declan Bishop’s place. The only time a cop visits the Bishops is because he’s on the take or arresting one of their family.”
“Haven’t you heard? The Bishops are legit now. Declan inherited the family’s business ventures and is modernizing.” Adam could probably guess Heath’s reply and didn’t wait to hear it. “Don’t be late.” He said before ending the call.
Fuck. Heath wanted to stay with London, to hold her in his arms and wake up with her wrapped around him. But the chance to get closer to solving the mystery of Fox’s death and, therefore, provide answers for Harper won out.
He dressed before scribbling a note to London on a notepad he found in the drawer of the nightstand. He leaned over and kissed her forehead before reluctantly leaving the bedroom.
Taking care to make sure the front door locked behind him, Heath drove away. Whether the Bishops knew anything about Fox and the Russians was up for debate, but one fact wasn’t. The Bishop family was as corrupt now as ever.
And if they were stupid enough to provide any evidence of same, Heath would use it to his full advantage to bring them down.
If for no other reason than taking him away from London the morning after their first night together.