His Risk to Take (3 page)

A frustrated sob broke from her lips. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“What am I doing, baby?” He hooked his arms under her knees and pushed them up and back toward her shoulders, opening her for his continued assault. “Making you come?” With a final push of his hips, Ruby spiraled into another release, legs and stomach vibrating as it mowed through her. Troy dipped his head to bite the inside of her thigh, unbelievably prolonging her tremors longer than she thought possible. Struggling to find purchase, she sunk her fingers into his hair and pulled him toward her mouth for a long, hot kiss. He returned it hungrily, sucking at her tongue with a growl.

Without breaking their kiss, Troy grabbed her hand and brought it down between their sweat-slicked bodies. He wrapped her fingers around his straining erection as far as they could go and pumped into her fist. “Stroke me.
Now
, Ruby. Tight and fast. And remember that’s how I like it for next time.”

She didn’t think. Simply obeyed. Her hand worked him how he wanted it, loving the weight of him, his gruff moans against her ear on the pillow. Knowing he’d gotten to that deeply aroused state by looking at her body, touching it, made her desperate to fulfill his needs. The feel of his barely leashed restraint in her hand sent a rush of power through her. She felt consumed with the need to give him the same pleasure he’d given her. He swelled in her hand. His hips bucked into her fist wildly.

“I’m going to come on your panties. And the next time I see them, I’m going to rip them off with my fucking teeth. Is that clear?” Her breathy reply was lost in his groan of completion as he finished in her fist. She could feel the heat of his release on that part of her still shielded by blue silk and closed her eyes to revel in the decadence of it. She’d done that to him. Driven him to this point. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the fact that he’d maintained his self-control the entire time turned her on even more. This man wasn’t typical, in any sense of the word.

Possibly, he’d been right in waiting to go any further. Because tomorrow, inevitably, she would look back on tonight and regret letting him order her around, arouse her to the point that she’d begged. But right now, she felt depleted. A foreign sense of contentment that should have alarmed her, but she couldn’t find the strength to battle with. She felt…conquered. If she’d stopped to ponder an hour ago whether or not she’d enjoy being dominated in bed, she would have laughed until her ribs ached. Now? If she had a tiny, white flag in her hand, she would be waving it in the air in surrender.

Troy rose from the bed and walked to his chest of drawers. He pulled a pair of black boxer briefs from the top drawer and handed them to her, watching her warily for some type of reaction to what they had just done, before turning his back. She shimmied out of her underwear and slipped on his, glad for the warmth they provided. After a minute, he climbed into bed and pulled her back against his chest to plant a kiss on her shoulder. Ruby automatically stiffened at the tender gesture.

He laughed under his breath. “Now you’re shy? What happened to the girl who walked out of my bathroom naked?” When Ruby didn’t answer, Troy sighed. “Sleep now, hustler. You can go back to being your difficult self in the morning. I’ll even let you run your mouth as much as you need to. All day long. But when the time comes where I take you to bed, that’s when I put a stop to it. Can you live with that?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” she whispered, grateful for the darkness.

“Fine. Good night, Ruby.”

“’Night.”

Chapter Five

Troy pulled his collar up to block the cold wind as he ducked into the police station, cursing under his breath. God help anyone who got in his way today. His mood could only be described as black, and it would still be a vast understatement. He’d woken this morning to an empty bed. No sign of Ruby. Not a trace of their crazy-hot night together. No note. Nothing.

As a law-enforcement professional and a light sleeper in general, the fact that she’d managed to sneak out on him, over countless creaky floorboards thanks to the ancientness of his apartment building, irritated the shit out of him. Infinitely more irritating than that, however, was the fact that she’d left at all. He didn’t need her reassurance that they’d set the sheets on fire. They had. And he’d been more than ready for a repeat performance this morning, without the panties to get in his way. But she’d been long gone, her side of the bed barely slept in.

One worry in particular ate at him, burning a hole in his chest. Had he misread her enjoyment and pushed too far? Been too forceful? His usual need to take control in bed had been compounded by her challenging attitude. Her penchant for putting herself in danger had heightened his need to dictate her actions in the only way he could. With his body. He hadn’t been able to help himself. Add in her unrestrained response to his touch, the mewling noises coming from her throat, and he’d been lost. It had taken every ounce of his discipline not to shove aside the silk between her legs and sink deep enough to lose himself. Forget his pain and responsibilities. Focusing on only
her
would have been so easy.

Another reason he’d held back.

If she’d been a different woman he’d brought home from the bar, one who didn’t inspire the same possessive instincts in him, he would have had no problem removing the tiny patch of silk barring his entry. But he’d brought home Ruby the skeptic. Ruby the untrusting. She’d made him want to earn her confidence, exercise his self-discipline, and prove he was worthy of it. His restraint had been rewarded by her pulling a disappearing act, making him wonder why he’d bothered in the first place.

Luckily, Ruby wasn’t the only one who made a habit of looking through people’s wallets. When she’d gone to the bathroom to change into his shirt last night, he’d flipped open her wallet to find a student identification card for Baruch College in Manhattan, which had surprised him. As he’d suspected, there was much more to the sexy pool hustler than met the eye. He intended to find out just how much more. She wouldn’t walk away from him quite so easily.

Troy turned the corner leading to his desk on a brisk heel, nodding curtly at a passing Emergency Services member he’d met last week. Wisely, the man didn’t try to engage him in conversation. He pulled open the door of the main command area, which housed several desks and offices occupied by higher-ranking officers. The usually noisy room felt still, quieter than usual. Normally, loud phone conversations took place, interspersed with the occasional insult or ribbing of another officer. As Emergency Services occupied this part of the station, he was surprised to see detectives and officers from other departments huddled around various desks, talking rapidly.

Brent appeared to his right, holding a cup of coffee. His usual, easy smile had been replaced by a grim expression.

“What’s going on?”

“One of our ESU guys was found beaten last night. Adam Tenney. Not sure if you’ve met him.” Troy gave a single, curt nod of his head. “Guy’s in a freaking coma. He’s got a wife. Kids. We’re trying to figure out what the hell happened.”

Brent’s words hit way too close to home for Troy’s comfort. “Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his suddenly dry throat, trying to maintain focus. “Did he put somebody away that was recently released?”

Brent shrugged one shoulder. “We just heard the news, so everyone is still scrambling. I’m sure they’re going to send us all out in different directions any minute now, so be ready to roll.”

“I’m ready.”

Brent walked away then, leaving Troy stewing in silence. He didn’t know the injured detective very well, but it didn’t matter. The situation felt too familiar. Involuntary images of Grant’s wife and kids crying at his funeral months earlier flashed through his mind. His chest constricted painfully. He was saved from his dark thoughts when Lieutenant Rhodes called his name from across the station, gesturing for him to enter his office. Pushing aside the fog of his memories, Troy headed in and took a seat.

Rhodes took no time getting to the point, a trait that reminded him of his former lieutenant, Derek Tyler, back in Chicago. “Listen, Bennett. You came with a glowing recommendation from Chicago. They said you weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty.”

“That’s right.” At least, he hadn’t been at one time. His first few years on the force, he’d quickly gained a reputation for being fearless when pursuing criminals, without sacrificing careful planning and execution. Having found a daredevil in his partner, Grant, they’d gained the respect of their colleagues and moved up through the ranks, being placed on an elite detective squad focused on regulating the gang wars taking place in Chicago’s worst neighborhoods. They’d jumped in head first, never backing away from a single dangerous situation. Troy always provided the plan and kept Grant reigned in as much as possible. They’d balanced each other perfectly. Until the night it all came crashing down.

“Good. I’ve got a lead I need you to run down.” The lieutenant blew out a heavy breath. “I received an anonymous tip claiming Officer Tenney had gotten into some financial trouble, possibly taken a loan from a man named Lenny Driscol. If you’d been in New York a little longer, you would have heard about Driscol by now. A real jack-of-all-trades type. Loansharking, bookmaking, you name it. I thought Tenney would’ve known better.”

Troy absorbed the information. “You want me to question Driscol. You think he’s responsible for Tenney ending up in the hospital?”

“I don’t
want
to think that, believe me. But they found Tenney’s body in the Brooklyn Navy Yards early this morning, right at the edge of Driscol’s turf. It can’t be a coincidence.” He gestured down to the case file open on his desk. “It’s probable that Driscol didn’t realize Tenney is a badge. Tenney would’ve kept his identity hidden.”

“That only increases the probability that Driscol had something to do with it.” Troy stood up from his seat. “Where can I find him?”

…

Ruby gathered her notebook and pens as the professor wrapped up his lecture. Around her, fellow students followed suit, eager to escape the confines of the windowless room after the two-hour class. Even she, who normally soaked up every word and took detailed notes, felt restless and edgy. As she had for the previous two days since leaving Troy sleeping in bed.

She’d woken with a jolt around four o’clock in the morning, momentarily forgetting why she’d fallen asleep somewhere besides her own tiny twin bed. Wondering whose arms were wrapped tightly around her. The memories had bombarded her all at once, sending a hot flush racing over her skin. Troy’s mouth, his promises and commands, the things he’d made her beg for. Lying there, she’d waited for the embarrassment to come. But it hadn’t. Only the desire for more. And that’s when she knew she had to get out of there. She didn’t recognize herself around him. Going home with a stranger, a
cop
, was unlike her in itself. Throw in the way she’d walked out of his bathroom naked and her shameful begging and you had someone she barely knew.

Ruby Elliott didn’t beg.

So why did the thought of doing it all over again leave her breathless?

Over the weekend, she’d waited for the sharp longing for Troy to fade, but it only grew stronger every day she stayed away. She didn’t want to anymore. As soon as she left class, she’d go find him. It wasn’t as though she’d left him a way to reach
her
, so if they were going to see each other again, the ball was in her court. With Troy, that was how she wanted it. She’d relinquished too much control to him on Friday night, but by leaving and reappearing at will, she hoped to take a little bit of it back. She’d check Quincy’s first, maybe rake in a few bucks on the pool table while she waited. If he didn’t show, maybe she’d pop by his apartment real casual-like. Pretend she’d left behind a scrunchie.

What makes you think he’s still interested?
Ruby gave her subconscious a mental one-finger salute. He’d implied there would be a next time more than once, right? So why were her nerves suddenly getting the best of her? Damn him for making her second-guess herself. Something she never did.

Deciding that if the worst possible outcome was rejection, she could live with it, Ruby stood and walked out of class, avoiding eye contact and conversation with the other students who stood in groups making plans to grab coffee together. At twenty-five, she was only older than them by a few years, but the chasm felt much, much wider. After high school, she’d spent the years wherein she would have attended college on the road. She’d only recently started making up for lost time.

The second she stepped outside the room, someone draped an arm across her shoulders, pulling her into their side. Reflexively, she jammed her elbow into the unknown person’s stomach, hearing a satisfying
oompf
for her efforts.

“
God
. What the fuck, Ruby Tuesday?”

She reared back. “Bowen?”

His hands dropped to his knees as he tried to regain his breath, his dark blond hair sticking out from under a baseball cap. “In the flesh.”

Glancing around, she lowered her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, thought I’d take a pottery class, you know, just to broaden my horizons a little.” Ruby tilted her head at him skeptically as he straightened. “Why do you think I’m here? I came to see you.”

“What for?”

“Damn. Thaw out a little, ice princess.”

She sighed through a smile in spite of her irritation. Bowen, her childhood friend and all-around goofball, tended to deflate her anger quite easily. “I’m sorry. It’s just, the last few times you’ve come to see me, it’s been to convince me to come back to work for your father. And as I told you before, I’m not interested.”

He made a sound of acknowledgment, turning his head to check out two of her female classmates. When they looked over, he winked, sending them into a fit of giggles. Bowen had that effect on the opposite sex. “I know. I know. You’re on the straight and narrow now. You used to be fun, Rubik’s Cube.”

“Can you settle on a nickname at some point?”

“Rubella. Righteous Ruby. Barney Rube-el.”

“Don’t turn my name into a disease, and that last one didn’t even work.” She sniffed. “Righteous Ruby we can talk about.” Heading toward the building exit, she gave Bowen no choice but to follow her. “So what’s your father’s offer this time? Let me guess, he’s gotten word of a cash game in Jersey he needs me for. Why didn’t he just come see me himself, as usual?”

Bowen looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “He’s lying low at the moment. Waiting for a little trouble to pass.”

She stopped him with a finger to her lips. “I don’t even want to know. I’m not interested in hearing about any
trouble,
and I’m not interested in any games he wants to arrange so he can take a cut of my winnings.” Ruby scrutinized his expression. “Just tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I didn’t.” Bowen answered with grave seriousness, a shadow passing through his deep brown eyes. “Not this time.”

With a nod of satisfaction, Ruby turned and kept walking, considering their conversation over.

“Look, we know you’re still working around the city. I even heard you had a little trouble the other night.” He called after her. “What’s the difference how and where you play? At least this way I can watch your back.”

Ruby stopped abruptly and turned. “Where did you hear I ran into trouble?”

Bowen gave a quick shrug. “People like to tell me things.”

She breathed a curse. “Stop listening, then. I work for myself. I don’t have to answer to your father anymore. Or mine, for that matter.”

“Have you heard from him lately?”

“No.” She looked away on a shrug. “Last I heard, he was working his way through Miami.”

Bowen cupped her cheek in his hand in a platonic show of comfort. “You know, we could hop a flight down there and chill on the beach for a few weeks. Work at night. It’ll be just like the old days. You make the cash, and I take care of any unwanted trouble. You can’t admit that’s not tempting.”

She jerked her head out of his palm, but his hand only landed on her shoulder with a squeeze. “Why can’t you just accept what I’m trying to do here, Bowen? I’m not going to hustle forever. I’m going to school so I don’t have to anymore.”

“You’d deny the women of Miami their chance to meet and fall in love with me?” He sighed when she didn’t smile at his attempt at a joke. “Come on, Ruben Sandwich. This isn’t you. What’s your end game here? A boring-ass desk job where you answer to some jerk-off boss? How is that any different than working for us? If anything, it’s worse.”

“You know me better than that.” Ruby had no intention of punching a clock or wearing a sensible business suit to work. Never going to happen. Her plans were quite different. She placed her hand on top of his larger one. “You know, just because he’s your father doesn’t mean you have no way out. You’re capable of more than being his muscle, Bowen.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed with emotion. As he started to answer, a man behind her cleared his throat. Awareness prickled the skin of her neck. She knew who she would find if she turned around.

Bowen looked over her shoulder, his compassionate expression transforming into belligerence. “Help you, buddy?”

“Doubt it,” the voice answered. “I’m here to see her.”

Ruby turned to find a rigid Troy, blue eyes locked on Bowen and the hand resting on her shoulder. Just as she remembered, he really needed a haircut, his dark brown hair a little shaggy around the ears and neck. He wore a suit and tie as if he’d come straight from work, five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw. Involuntarily, she dropped her gaze to his mouth, the hollow of his neck. She wanted to press her face there, inhale his scent, knowing he would smell as edible as he looked.