HotTango (3 page)

Tanya wiped her hands off, staring at him as if she didn’t
know who he was. “You know what has to happen in order to have kids?”

Danger!

That tone was downright scary. There were two exits from the
kitchen, if he didn’t count leaping over the bar that partitioned off half the space.
From there he could make a tactical retreat to the backyard, the hallway or the
den. Cole took a deep breath and shoved aside the urge to flee.

“What?” he asked.

“Sex, Cole. People have to have sex in order to make
babies.”

“Well, not technically. This is the twenty-first century.
People get shot up with sperm all the time now.”

“Oh my god, just forget it.” She threw the towel on the
counter and began to storm off, but he caught her wrist and swung her around.
The way her eyes flashed shouldn’t make him hard, but it did.

“Hey now, it’s just a joke.”

She tried to jerk out of his grasp but he kept his hold on
her. Not enough to bruise, just contain. “No it’s not. I’m trying to be
understanding of all the stress you’re under and still talk about stuff like
grown-ups, and you’re evading the discussion without even knowing what I want
to talk about.”

Put that way, he was being a shithead.

He took a deep breath and reversed his hold on her so that
their fingers laced together. He could take anything she had to throw at him if
it wasn’t kids. “Okay, what did you want to talk about if not kids?”

“Sex.” Tanya tried to pull out of his grip again, but he
clutched her hand harder. “We aren’t having any. Hell, if we don’t fight we
seem to not even talk, so maybe I’m getting ahead of myself and should just be
asking you for a conversation about the weather every now and then.”

“Wow. Wait. Back that up. Sex?” Color him surprised.

“Yes, sex, Cole. Is that such a shocking thought?” She
wiggled her hand free of his and crossed her arms over her chest, plumping her
breasts.

Sex, her boobs—it made for a distracting cocktail.

“Well, uh—”

Tanya steamrolled over him. He’d opened the door and she’d
stepped through. There was no shutting it now.

“I miss you actually talking to me. God forbid, I miss sex.
I miss feeling like we’re a goddamned couple. And this is not how I wanted to
have this discussion.” One of the hair ties that were all over the house seemed
to appear magically in her hand, and up went her hair.

The truth was he missed those things too, but any time he
opened his mouth or got the urge, she was busy. If he were honest with himself,
he could do more. He knew it and still he pulled back.

“You know what’s embarrassing? The girls took me to an adult
novelty store today and I actually bought their crap thinking it might help.
But no. Never mind. Go to bed. You look exhausted.”

“You bought stuff at a sex shop?” Suddenly he didn’t feel
quite so tired.

Tanya busied her hands with the dishes again, but her cheeks
were turning a bright scarlet. The idea of his wife surrounded by dildos and
masks was going to fuel a good laugh—later. Right now his shortcomings as a
husband were glaring at him.

“Yes, okay?” The anger seeped away, replaced by her
signature frustration with compressed lips, high color and refusal to look at
him. Tanya could never stay angry long, for which he was eternally grateful.
He’d never slept on the couch as a result.

“What did you buy?”

“Nothing.”

“Yes, you did. You said so.” He stepped behind her and placed
his hands over her hips, pulling her firm ass against his groin. Her scrubbing
rhythm faltered. “Come on, tell me what you bought.”

“Forget it. It’s stupid.” Her voice quavered in the telltale
fashion that foretold tears.

Shit.

He reached around her and unplugged the sink.

“Cole.”

He turned her in place so she faced him. “Babe, it’s not
stupid. I’m sorry we don’t talk as much. We’re both busy and—”

“And you’re my husband. We should make time for each other.”

Busted.

There was no denying the truth. He kissed her forehead in a
silent plea for forgiveness. She answered it by looping her arms around his
waist and hugging him, her head tucked perfectly under his chin, their bodies
lining up just right.

“You’ll show me?” he said into her hair.

Tanya turned her face into his chest and muttered something
that sounded like, “Yes.”

“I’m going to take the trash and recycling out. Why don’t
you go get your new toys ready and I’ll be back in a minute?” He would need a
moment to get his head screwed on straight. Besides the weird stuff her friends
had given her before their wedding, they’d never brought anything into the
bedroom with them. They’d never needed toys or anything to get off, so he
didn’t see the point. Still, the novelty was appealing.

“Okay.” Tanya pivoted and walked swiftly out of the kitchen.

Cole watched her leave, committing the image to memory.

What kind of an asshole was he that he ignored his wife’s
needs and made her genuinely embarrassed to approach him about something like
sex?

He stalked across the kitchen, dug the trash and recycling
bags out of the receptacles and took them to the garage.

Early on, when they lived in Nowhere, USA, the sense of
wonder that she loved him, Cole, the guy who could barely graduate high school
by the skin of his teeth, never ceased to amaze him. Hell, he’d only passed
because his grand scheme of getting the pretty girl to tutor him had worked out
so well. Not only had she tutored him, she’d given him her heart. Even after
thirteen years he was still waiting for her to wake up and realize her mistake
and divorce him. Waiting for it was wearing him thin. The higher she rose, the
farther he had to fall, and that would kill him.

He reentered the house with a dark mood clinging to him.

How fucked up was he? He had a hot piece of ass for a wife,
whom he was in love with, and he was trying to get out of their marriage.
Something had to be seriously unhinged upstairs.

Cole flipped the lights and radio off, taking his time
progressing down the hall to the square of light that taunted him.

He could face down drug lords and armed robbers, but his
wife left him anxious and uncertain. He sucked in a deep breath and strolled
through the bedroom door.

Tanya glanced up from where she sat in the middle of their
bed, still wearing the soft green dress from dinner. Two boxes sat in front of
her on the bedspread, one red and the other black.

“What’s this?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

She sighed and picked at her nails. “It’s called Pandora’s
Box and it promises to equip you with challenges to spice up your sex life.
Dumb. I know.”

“It’s not dumb. I just don’t get it.” He picked up the box
and popped open the magnetic top.

“The instructions say that you should give all the
challenges a go to properly explore your sexual adventures.”

He picked up the black box and turned it to read the script.
“What about this?”

Tanya snatched it from his hands and bounded off the bed.
“I’m returning this.”

Now his curiosity was piqued, but he didn’t want to make her
any more uncomfortable than she already was. He held up his hands. “Okay.” He
turned his attention back to Pandora’s Box. “So do you or I pick the
challenge?”

“Whichever.”

Tanya didn’t seem that interested in the box or amorous
activities.

Cole peered into the box. There was a booklet he skipped,
dice, a feather, some black folded stuff and a deck of cards.

Tanya deserved to be treated to pleasure, and if she wanted
to use the box, he’d get on this train. He was aware of her gaze tracking his
movements as he investigated the cards. They seemed to be ideas, suggestions
for something a little out of the ordinary. A few of the cards were downright
ridiculous, but the rest he could work with.

Cole peered at her over the top of the cards. A light bulb
went on. He fanned them out, displaying the image on the card to Tanya but the
text to him.

“Pick one,” he dared.

Tanya’s brows rose and her mouth formed a little “O”. A
thread of tension, sensual and full of lust, stretched between his wife and
him. He held her gaze and neither breathed as she selected a card with two
people, arms wound around each other, on the brink of kissing. He took the card
from her, placed the others in the box and cleared his throat. He peered into
the box.

Why not?

Cole pocketed one of the dice.

“Rediscover the sensual pleasure of kissing. Frequent
kissing can improve the appearance of the face, giving the thirty muscles a
workout. The racing pulse of a passionate kiss boosts metabolism and helps burn
calories. And lastly, kissing is nature’s antidepressant, releasing the feel-good
chemical oxytocin into the bloodstream.” He chuckled at all the data, but the
reality was that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed Tanya with
anything more than a quick peck.

Tanya’s brow wrinkled. “That’s it?”

He shrugged and placed the box on the bench at the end of
the bed. “I’m resourceful.”

“This is silly. Let’s just go to sleep.”

Cole circled the bed, watching how Tanya kept her gaze
anywhere but on him. “I think we should give it a try first. Come on.” He
stopped inches away from her.

Tanya’s gaze landed on his chest and he watched her trace
the SWAT letters on his shirt with her eyes.

Sometimes he wondered if she resented his job and how much
it took him away these days. It was an odd exchange for them, but he couldn’t
deny that she was getting a taste of what the first ten years of their marriage
had been like for him. But he wasn’t about to hold it against her. He’d never
wanted to stand in the way of her dreams and, in the end, she’d pulled him with
her. Making him who he was today. So he could help her.

Cole tugged the elastic band out of her hair. The way the
light shone off her wavy tresses mesmerized him.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

Embarrassment.

Hope.

Shame.

Frustration.

Lust.

A hundred different emotions warred within Tanya’s breast.
She watched through her lashes as Cole wrapped a lock of her hair around his
finger and lifted it to his lips. She drank in the sight of him kissing her as
if she were a dehydrated plant.

She hadn’t realized she missed being kissed until she grew
jealous of her damn hair.

Cole tugged the lock, tipping her head forward. He pressed
his lips to her forehead and kissed a line to her temple. Her skin tingled
everywhere he made contact. She leaned forward into his touch and tilted her
head to the side, acquiescing to his questing mouth.

“Where should I kiss you?” he whispered.

I have a choice?

There were a couple of options, but she couldn’t bring
herself to say them.

Cole produced a die from the Pandora’s Box and tossed it on
the bed.

“Neck,” he said.

Tanya sucked in a breath.

Cole was doing it. He was playing along. She didn’t know
what to think or feel or even do. It was as if she’d never had sex with her
husband before.

He hooked his fingers in the straps of her dress and pulled
her forward against his chest. She gripped his shirt in both her hands and shut
her eyes.

Tanya loved Cole’s strength, the rough quality of his
personality and how no matter how long they’d lived in the city, he was still a
small-town boy at heart. But right now she loved his mouth the most. The way he
didn’t rush this silly request of hers, but paid special attention to her
cheek, jawline, the tip of her nose.

And now her neck.

He started at her collarbone and kissed around the base of
her neck, turned her in place and trailed kisses up her spine. She shivered and
leaned against him, relishing the way his arms closed around her, supporting
and protecting her. He pulled her head back against his shoulder, exposing the
column of her throat.

His lips moved over her skin, caressing, planting kisses
here and there. Each time she felt the contact, her breath shuddered in her
throat.

She turned her face toward him, seeking his mouth, but he
straightened out of her range.

“Cole.” She hated the whining quality to her voice, but damn
it, he was teasing her.

The twinkle in his gaze told her he knew what he was doing
to her and meant to keep going.

He tapped her lips.

“Not yet. Dice didn’t say to kiss you there. Where should I
kiss you next, hm?”

Cole picked the die up from where he’d tossed it on the bed
and let it fall again.

“Thighs, huh?” He sounded amused, and she could only guess
at the evil ideas running through his head.

Tanya glanced from the die to her husband.

Cole twisted the straps of her dress and bra off her
shoulders. Thighs be damned, her breasts ached.

Her breathing hitched as he dipped his head to press kisses
to the fronts of her shoulders and along her collarbone. Cole turned her and
pushed her back against the mattress. The room spun; her heart was pounding too
hard against her ribs. Her nipples were tight, sensitive buds against the
abrasive fabric of her bra.

Cole grasped one ankle. She propped herself up on her
elbows. He caught her watching him and held her gaze while he brought her foot
to his lips. Tanya held her breath as he kissed the top of her foot and up to
her ankle. He grabbed her other leg and repeated the worshipful treatment.

Tanya’s panties were soaked. Honest-to-god wet. She couldn’t
remember the last time arousal had ruined her underwear for a night. The damn
box was worth every penny on these grounds alone.

Her husband didn’t stop at her ankles. He pushed her knees
farther apart and peppered her calves and shins with more kisses, running his
hands over her skin, investigating the ticklish crease behind her knee. She
giggled and tried to roll away, but Cole surged up and pinned her to the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A smile the likes of
which she hadn’t seen in ages graced his face.

Looping her arms around his neck, she felt the dusty cobwebs
of her heart loosen their hold, as if someone had opened a window and a fresh
breeze blew through. “Nowhere.”

“Good.” He kissed one cheek then the other. His dark gaze
promised more than his smile foretold. “I’m not done with you yet.”

God, I hope not.

“Now where was I?”

Cole pushed to his knees and studied her for a moment. He
shoved her skirt up to the tops of her thighs and she shivered. Tanya licked
her lips and forced herself to relax. Enjoy what her husband was doing.

He slid his hands up and down her thighs, from the outside
in, working his fingers higher and closer to her pussy with each motion. She
shifted her hips, silently begging for more.

She grabbed the die and pushed it into his hand. Cole
chuckled at her and let it drop onto the bed again.

Did it have “pussy” on it anywhere? She prayed it did.

“Fuck yes,” Cole muttered, his voice low and rough.

“Huh?” She pushed up to her elbows, finding it hard to focus
on his face.

Cole grinned at her and tugged the top of her dress down. When
her bra didn’t go south willingly, he yanked the fabric down around her waist,
freeing her breasts.

Tanya gasped, surprised by the aggressive move and
overwhelmed by the riot of sensation radiating from her nipples.

“Breasts,” he practically purred as he crawled over her.

Cole’s mouth closed around one peak and the brush of his
teeth had her back arching off the bed and her hands cupping his face. She
could feel his thick erection against her thigh. Knowing he was aroused just as
she was only turned her on more.

He took his time with one breast before switching to the
other. He moved his knees between her legs, so she hooked her ankles behind his
thighs and clung to him. Not that she moved him an inch, but she needed to hold
on to something and he grounded her.

Cole reached between them and rubbed his hand over the
crotch of her panties. When had they rolled the die again? If pussy was on
there, she was a lucky girl.

“Fuck,” he growled out.

“Yes, please.” Tanya panted and shifted her hips.

“I’m going to—”

Bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do?

“No,” Tanya wailed.

Cole’s head jerked up and he stared across the room at his
dresser where his phones were charging.

Every profane word, curse and vile utterance she knew rushed
through Tanya’s mind. She wouldn’t say them, but Cole’s job had shit for
timing. She flopped on the bed, resigned to another night alone.

“Sorry, babe.” Cole bussed her cheek with a kiss and was
gone the next instant.

Tanya could hear him hurriedly changing clothes. He spent
all of ten seconds on the phone, but that was all it took. She rolled over and
watched the transformation. His dark socks were on, as were the navy uniform
pants, and he was halfway done buttoning his shirt. She sighed and consoled
herself that her husband was damn fine in uniform.

Cole shoved his shirttails in his pants and winced as he
adjusted himself before zipping and buckling himself in.

“If it’s any consolation, I now have to go to work with a
raging hard-on.” He gestured at the pronounced bulge between his legs.

She couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m sorry—I think.”

“No you’re not.” He made quick work of his boots, belt and
the odds and ends he shoved in his pockets. The rest of his battle dress
uniform would be in his vehicle.

Tanya shrugged back into her dress and went to him. No, they
hadn’t gotten anywhere close to having sex, but they were headed there and
that’s what mattered. The sense of want in her body would only make next time
better.

She tugged his belt so it was perfectly center. “Will you be
safe?”

Cole cupped her shoulders. “This is a planned raid. It’s
that drug bust I told you we’ve been working on. Just moving on it earlier than
expected. I’ll be home late, but tomorrow we’re going to put that box to good
use.”

Tanya went up on tiptoes and he acquiesced to her plea. His
lips were hard and unyielding, the kiss short, but it stole her breath away.

And then he was gone.

But she still felt his touch.

The way her heart burned for him.

And tonight—it was enough.

* * * * *

Cole adjusted the bulletproof visor on his Kevlar helmet and
surveyed his entry team. The helmet was close to fifteen pounds, but in a
situation like this where bullets and God only knew what else would be flying,
it was worth wearing. His balls were blue and his dick ached from the lack of
release. It was not the best way to go into a mission, but there had been worse
situations.

Tanya wanted him. She was going to get a lot of him when he
got home.

He shoved the memory of his wife’s wet, willing body away
and focused on the mission at hand. As team leader, Cole carried a lot of
responsibility on his shoulders.

“Everyone stick to the plan.” He checked his handgun for the
second time before continuing, “Nine male suspects are in the house. The pizza
delivery guy patrol pulled over confirmed there was drug paraphernalia inside.
An asset has confirmed they have cooked meth on the property.”

The nondescript white van the team was packed into turned
the last corner. If it weren’t for the open doors they would be sweltering in
the heat. As it stood, the breeze made it bearable.

Their driver called back a ready and the tension cranked up.
Adrenaline made Cole’s sight sharper, the world narrowing to the control of his
weapon and the awareness of those around him.

The van braked with the left side door lined up almost
perfectly to the sidewalk leading up to the house.

“Go,” he yelled.

The team poured out from the rear double doors and the
single side entry. Because meth houses were highly explosive, they wouldn’t be
able to smoke the suspects out. Instead, they had double the normal number of
support surrounding the house.

Cole sprinted to the door, barking, “Open up! Police!”

Not that they expected the suspects to do as requested. It
didn’t matter. They were going in no matter what.

The breacher, Aaron Griffith, was right behind him with a
twenty-pound door ram. The breacher’s job was a simple yet dangerous one
because they had an average of five seconds to take control of a site before
things went south. Using a variety of tools, the breacher would either break a
door down or make a hole for the team. Though everyone could technically
perform all roles on the team, each had their specialty, where they were more
comfortable in the scheme of things.

Cole held the bulletproof shield at the ready and stood
aside as Aaron pounded the door.

Other teams surrounded the house, providing cover and
readying to follow behind the entry team. Glass broke and, from the sound of
yelling, Cole guessed several suspects made the unfortunate decision to run for
it.

There was no escaping SWAT.

Wood splintered and the door caved inward as the hinges gave
way. Aaron stepped back, giving Cole the opening he needed to step into the
void, the rest of the entry team at his back.

Two men were on the ground, screaming with their hands over
their faces. Tear gas was a horrible thing the first time around. Cole hated
the shit, but he powered through.

A third suspect crouched behind a flower-patterned couch
covered in cigarette burns, a six shooter in hand.

“Put the gun down, now.” Cole advanced on the man who was so
strung out he couldn’t hold the gun straight. “Put it down now.”

Another team member circled around the lone gunman and
tackled him from behind. Cole kicked the weapon away from the suspect’s
grasping hands and another officer scooped it up.

“Room’s clear,” he called.

Cole and his team progressed through the kitchen while more
officers moved in to secure the front of the house.

“We’re unarmed,” someone called from a backroom.

“Come out with your hands up, where I can see them, one at a
time.” Cole gestured for his team to fall back. They took up defensible
positions in the kitchen and living room facing the back bedrooms and den.

“I’m coming out,” the same voice called from the den. A
moment later a black male in his late thirties came out, his head ducked low
and arms up high.

“Keep coming, through the hall and into the living room,”
Cole directed. This would put the suspect out of the line of sight from the
room to where the rear guard could take him into custody.

Cole held his breath as the man passed, smelling of meth and
pot. It turned his stomach.

“Who’s next?” Cole yelled.

“I have a baby, don’t shoot,” a female voice shrieked.

The woman’s voice made his blood run cold. A baby? No one
had said anything about a woman, much less a baby. All nine suspects were
supposed to be male.

“Come out slowly, ma’am,” Cole bit out without grinding his
teeth.

A plump Caucasian woman with wild curling hair and crazed
eyes edged around the corner, a bundle on her shoulder. She had to be in her
thirties, though meth had aged her and he could make out marks on her skin
where she’d picked at herself. Meth bugs. Enough of the drugs made a person see
things that weren’t there. The baby in her arms didn’t squirm or make any
sounds. Not even with all the commotion going on around them.

The woman crept past him and he listened to the sounds of
scuffling as officers descended on her. The nails-on-a-chalkboard squall of the
child was a relief.

“Anyone else back there?” Cole yelled.

“No one else here,” the black man said loud enough for Cole
to hear.