Hard Beat

So long as it doesn’t get her killed.

“What about life in particular?”

“I enjoy watching people, documenting their lives, seeing the things that others don’t see in the looks in their eyes and lines of their faces.”

“And you’re good at it – your eye is exceptional, but let’s try to keep it to a minimum, please,” I tell her. “Life is harsh here and dangerous, and you never know who is or isn’t your friend, so I’d prefer —”

She stops my brotherly speech by pressing her lips to mine. I resist at first, try to talk through her sensory onslaught, but after she keeps at it, her lips vibrating against mine from her laughter, I allow myself to slip into the kiss. And it’s the farthest thing from a hardship, to let her pull me so handily from everything outside of these hotel walls with a single kiss. Damn does it feel good.

There were so many other things I wanted to say to her, so many questions I wanted answered about where she goes at night and how in the hell she plans on defending herself if she’s scared at the sight of a gun. So how does this singular woman make me lose my need-to-know attitude that I’ve built a career and a reputation on? It’s almost as if I’m blinded by her – and that’s never a comfortable place to be when you’ve lived your life trying to see for everyone else.

And yet, I’m completely content with it.

Our kiss softens to brushes of lips while her fingers weave into the hair on the nape of my neck where her fingernails scratch gently, and my body wants so much more than what she’s offering. I start to deepen the kiss, my hand finding her breast beneath the sheet so that my thumb rubs back and forth over the peak of her nipple.

She slides her hands down to my chest and hot damn, just when I think she’s go

“While we’re making requests…” She raises her eyebrows, and I love that her breathing is labored because it means she’s just as affected as I am.

“Mmm?”

“I’m really enjoying whatever this is between us… but in order to keep up my credibility, that I got this job on my own merit, can we please keep this on the down low?” She averts her eyes, cheeks flushing with embarrassment over a request that’s completely valid. And she’s so damn adorable, giving me a glimpse of vulnerability in her otherwise badass facade.

“Never mind.” She shakes her head, and I realize that I’m so mesmerized seeing her like this that I didn’t respond. “Forget that I —”

“No. I’m okay —”

“Just drop it —”

She’s so damn flustered that I can’t get a word in edgewise, so I do to her exactly what she did to me. I grab the back of her neck and bring her mouth to mine to shut her up. She resists at first, but I love how it’s only fleeting. And just when we fall so deep into the kiss that we’re almost to the point of no return, all greedy hands and needy sighs, I pull back from her and look her in the eye.

“I’m okay with down low,” I murmur, and brush a gentle kiss against her lips. A soft laugh turned moan falls from her mouth as my hands find the wetness between her thighs. The arch of her hips calls to me, and I’m more than willing to be pulled under her hold. “I especially like your down low.”

Chapter 15

“Smitten, huh?” I must be, because it’s been almost two weeks since Beaux and I fell back into the sack together, and she’s all I can think about.

“Yes. You definitely sound smitten with whoever she is,” my sister says, her voice holding a trace of amusement.

“It’s just different here. Same people day in, day out. It’s —”

“Six weeks’ time? Hmm, I’d call it accelerated dating.” I chuckle into the phone at her assessment of the situation that’s correct in a sense. “Well, I’m right, aren’t I? When there’s nothing to do but get to know each other and waste time together, it’s like a relationship on speed.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a relationship,” I start, but then stop to think about the notion, because in a sense that’s exactly what Beaux and I have together.

“Uh-huh,” Rylee says, and I can tell she’s having fun with this, enjoying questioning me about whom I’m dating because I’ve never really cared before. I mean yeah, I’ve dated and fallen in what felt like love at the time, but no one has ever made me feel like a giddy teenager at the same time as we’ve shared such an intense co

“Jesus Christ, Bubs.” I choke on my nickname for her because I am not discussing my sex life with my baby sister.

“Don’t Bubs me. That’s not going to get you out of this conversation.”

She’s got my number. Fuck. “You really want me to answer that?” My voice cracks on the last word.

“So that means yes.” She laughs thoroughly, and I picture her ticking off the first question on one of her always handy task lists. “Do you have a pet name for her?”

I swear silently into the empty room. “No, not a pet name. Just a nickname. And who are you to ask these questions, huh, little Miss Married?”

“And that’s another yes,” she says smugly. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

“Well, considering the options are slim here, what do you think?” She’s starting to get on my nerves. I love and I hate this inquisition from her all at the same time.

“True.” She snorts.

“Are we really doing this, Ry? I’d rather hear about home. How are Colton and the boys? Is the project still full steam ahead?” I attempt to change the topic and ask about the endeavor to build more houses for underprivileged boys; the project itself brought my sister and her now-husband together in an amusing set of circumstances.

“He’s good, the boys are great, and the project is challenging and incredible all at the same time. We can talk about them later. Don’t think for a minute I’m going to pass up the chance to make you squirm.” Her laugh is maniacal at best.

“You’re getting back at me for all the times I put those rubber snakes in your sheets, aren’t you?” The memory of her shrieking and throwing them at me brings a smile to my face some twenty years later.

“Paybacks are a bitch, aren’t they?” she says, her voice dripping in false sympathy. “Have you taken her on a proper date yet? I mean that’s super import —”

“Hey, Ry, I don’t mean to cut you off, but I have to go. Work’s on the other line,” I tell her as I glance quickly at my phone’s screen and see Sarge’s number.

“Convenient.” But I know she’s not really mad.

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Be safe.”

“Always,” I tell her before ending the call and accepting the new one. “Sarge? How goes it?”

“It’s going, brother. Another day in paradise, right?” he snorts, a sarcastic laugh following the noise.

“What can I do for you, man?” The hair on the back of my neck has started to stand up in anticipation as I hope for the holy grail here. Another embed mission where we can report in the thick of the action versus going out solo on our own to the safe and approved locations where you get the same old shit day in, day out.

“Just giving you a heads-up that things have gotten awfully quiet this week. Chatter is nil, so we’re thinking the meet’s going to happen soon.”

“And…?” I respond, knowing he’s asking something of me but wanting to make sure it’s exactly what I think it is. Need to know what chips I hold and how to play them to my advantage in the future when I need them.

“Just making sure that you pass along any information you may get from that source of yours. We wouldn’t want to get caught with our pants down.”

“Mmm-hmm.” It’s the only response I give him, my mind going a hundred miles an hour. Wondering if their intel has gone dry and now he’s fishing with me to see if I know something I’m not telling him.

“Hope to be talking to you soon, Thomas.”

“Sarge.” I know that’s his way of saying good-bye and giving me a warning all at the same time. Something’s going on, and now I just need to figure out what.