Officer Off Limits (4 page)

“Would you like to come now, gorgeous?”

Story’s answer sounded breathless. “What do you think?” Her head fell back against the wall with a thud. One of his hands slid up her bare thigh, higher and higher until it reached her ass. She felt him gather the backside of her thong in his fist, twisting the fabric until it wrapped around his fingers once. The silky material pulled taut, sliding over the most sensitive part of her and making her head spin. His teeth scraped against her neck, sending a thrill of sensation shuddering through her body.

“Say please, baby.”

“Please,” she moaned.

Then he tugged on the thong and her mind went blank, oblivious to everything but the pleasure coursing through her. She shook against him as her orgasm battered its way through her system, prolonged by the calculated tugging of material between her legs. His mouth latched onto hers, absorbing her cries, groaning at her wild response.

When her shaking subsided, Daniel released her mouth, his panting breaths matching her own. “Set it again. I haven’t even gotten started.” He thrust himself, hard and thick, against her thigh. “
More
.”

More?
Story’s world tilted. What in the hell had just happened? She’d been standing on terra firma carrying on a conversation with him and a minute later he’d managed to give her the most powerful orgasm she could remember.
In over her head?
What a gross under-exaggeration on her part. Daniel was operating on an entirely different level. One that her sleep-deprived, recently dumped brain couldn’t begin to comprehend.

More than likely, his skill had been perfected with hundreds of women. And she’d just inflated his ego even more by acting out her own amateur version of
Gone in Sixty Seconds
against his leg.

Oh God, could I be more pathetic?

“Hey. Come back to me, Story.”

Something knotted in her throat at the earnest plea made against her neck. The events of the last twenty-four hours suddenly landed on her head like a ton of bricks. She could barely get oxygen into her lungs. If she allowed herself to think clearly for even one more moment, every ounce of pain and humiliation would rush to the surface. She would drown in tears and self-pity, forcing herself to admit that the last three years were a waste of time and a drain on her spirit. So she wouldn’t think. Not yet.

Daniel could distract her. Make her feel like a desirable woman if only for one afternoon. Prevent her from thinking too much about her mistakes and shortcomings. Threading her fingers through his hair, she tugged until his mouth left her neck. He raised his head and looked at her questioningly, eyes dark and heavy, mouth damp from kissing her. He appeared drugged in his arousal. For her.

She’d done that to him. The knowledge filled her with desperately needed confidence. Hadn’t she made the decision last night to stop sitting idly by while life happened around her? She didn’t want to be the girl who played it safe anymore. In the end, hadn’t her “safe” choice in Fisher come back to bite her in the ass? Right here, in this moment, she wanted Daniel.

“There you are,” he murmured, golden-brown eyes heating. He ducked his head to scrape his stubbled chin across her cleavage. “Whatever is going on in your head right now, keep thinking it.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “I’m thinking about you taking me to bed.”

Daniel’s big body shuddered against her in response. His hands caressed the sides of her thighs, sliding up and around to palm her bottom. “Tell me. In your mind, what are we doing in that bed? Are we fucking nice and slow or are you making me sweat for it?”

“I’m…you’re…” Story tried to form words and failed as he kneaded her flesh.

The timer went off on her phone, but he continued as though he didn’t even hear it. “Am I under you, watching your breasts bounce as you buck those hips? Or am I on top of you the first time? I could force those thighs wide and bury myself deep in between them.” He leaned forward to lick the curve of her ear. “Maybe I’m behind you. Ah, fuck, I could get in so deep that way, gorgeous. Tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen.”

The answer materialized in her mind. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him, somewhere in the room a cell phone rang, loud and siren-like. Daniel dropped his head forward with a sharp curse, fist pounding against the wall above her.

Looking as though he wanted to ignore it, he finally reached into his back pocket to extricate his phone. “It’s work. I have to answer,” he explained through clenched teeth.

Nodding mutely, Story slid down his thigh until her feet touched the floor and she stood. He made a sound of protest over their separation, but the incessant ringing interrupted him.

“Chase.” He barked into the phone. After listening for a moment, his eyes slid shut. “Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” As he hung up, his hot gaze swept her from head to toe, lingering on her still-hiked-up skirt. Cheeks heating, she quickly pulled it back in place. “I have to go.”

Avoiding his stare, she nodded. “So I heard. Um. Thanks for everything.”
Oh my God
. “I mean, thanks for dropping me off and carrying the suitcase and all that. Not thanks for the orgasm or whatever.”
Shut up. Shut up now.
“Well, I mean, thanks for that, too. I guess.”

Mortification complete
.
Kill me now.

Daniel’s eyebrows rose and the corners of his mouth quirked up. “You’re welcome.” He took a step toward her. “I really don’t want to leave.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she rushed out before he came any closer.

His face darkened. “We’ll talk about this later. There’s a situation where I’m needed or we’d discuss it right now.”

Suddenly wanting nothing more than to be alone, she nodded in response. He looked as though he wanted to say more, but with one last glance in her direction, he left the room. A moment later she heard the front door open and close.

“Thank you for the orgasm?
Really?
” Story wailed at the ceiling.

Chapter Five

Story gazed up at the ceiling of Grand Central Terminal, the green and gold constellations running the length of the busy concourse. Hundreds of people rushed past in every direction, some talking into cell phones, all studiously avoiding eye contact with one another. She felt invisible and energized all at once. The sheer magnitude of the station and the constant rumble of sounds drowned out her problems until they ceased to exist.

Peering down at her frayed jean skirt and sandals, she felt hideously out of place among the sea of business suits, but no one seemed to notice. It made her want to return in a clown suit juggling pineapples to see if she could garner the attention of at least one cool New Yorker, but somehow she doubted it.

After Daniel left, she’d felt the need to escape. Jack’s apartment, being far from cheerful to begin with, had felt too quiet. A perfect space for dark thoughts to fester. So she’d unpacked and started walking, finding Grand Central quite by mistake. It turned out to be the perfect match for her current state of mind. Jumbled, chaotic, confused.

Sighing, she leaned back against a marble pillar, the passing mob altering its course slightly to avoid her. Less than one day had gone by since Fisher broke up with her. She could hardly believe it. In that small space of time, she’d jumped on a plane to New York, shocked her father by showing up unannounced, and made out with an insanely hot hostage negotiator. Her father’s protégé, no less.

At the memory of Daniel’s mouth on hers, his hands moving possessively over her skin, Story felt her blood heat. Pressing a cool hand to her cheek to relieve the spreading pinkness, she tried to think of something,
anything
, else. Austin Powers. Rotten bananas. Beatlemania. Scabies.

Nothing worked.

She even tried thinking of Fisher, but it only led to one hideous realization. In three years, he’d never once scrambled her brain the way Daniel had earlier that afternoon. Not even close. She hadn’t thought of him even once while Daniel kissed her. It was almost enough to make her feel a tiny bit guilty. Almost.

All at once, Story felt foolish. She’d been about to settle for someone who’d hardly even kissed her toward the end. Of course, she held no delusions that Daniel would somehow be a better choice. She’d never met a man more suited to playing the field. But if nothing else, he’d given her some valuable perspective. In addition to one seriously mind-blowing orgasm.

Feeling fractionally better, Story pulled the cell phone from her hoodie pocket and frowned when she saw a missed call from Fisher. Why would he be calling her? He’d made it clear last night that he’d moved on. Probably something concerning the wedding and the dozen or so cancellations they had yet to make. She couldn’t deal with him right now—or ever—so she went into the settings on her phone and blocked his number. Then she scrolled through her contacts and selected a different name. Someone she actually wanted to speak with. Smiling, she held the phone to her ear.

Hayden, her college roommate, answered on the second ring. “Bitch, if you’re calling to tell me how great the weather is in San Diego, I’m hanging up.”

Story pushed away from the pillar with a laugh and walked toward the exit, dodging bodies as she went. She and Hayden had attended UC Berkeley together, sharing a dorm the first year and an apartment the remaining three. A Manhattan native, Hayden had returned to New York after school to be near her incredibly wealthy family, who held the purse strings with a tight fist. They’d wanted Hayden at home to assist in running their various charity organizations, and she’d been given no choice but to obey. It had broken Story’s heart to watch her best friend leave.

“The weather is probably perfect as usual, but I’m not there to either confirm or deny.”

“Huh. Are you already in Maui? The wedding isn’t for another two weeks.”

“Actually, it’s never. I hope your plane ticket is refundable.” Story took a deep breath as the line went silent. “Weddings are boring, anyway. I decided to come to New York and hang out with you instead. Did you know your fellow citizens have fully embraced public urination?”

After a long pause, Hayden finally spoke, her voice crisp and businesslike. “Exactly how wasted drunk will we be getting? Just ballpark it for me.”

“Obliterated.”

“Fabulous. Does tomorrow night work? Mommy dearest roped me into hosting a benefit tonight. Gag.”

“That’s perfect, actually. I need to sleep. We’ll text tomorrow about a plan.”

“Deal.” Hayden paused. “Hey, honey, I’m glad you’re here. You’re going to be just fine. And if you need an extra push, we’ll burn Fisher in effigy. Right in the middle of Times Square.”

Feeling tears threaten, Story laughed. “I missed you.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Story pushed through the doors of Grand Central leading to the equally busy sidewalk, her mood dramatically improved at having something to look forward to. Taking a minute to orient herself, she walked back toward Jack’s apartment on the East Side, stopping only to pick up groceries. Very
expensive
groceries. Six dollars for cereal? Apparently in addition to living space, corn flakes came at a premium, too.

With the bags loaded under one arm, she fished the keys out of her pocket and entered the building. Seeing two people enter the elevator, she called out for them to hold it. A hand shot out, preventing the metal doors from sliding shut.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

A balding man in his early forties looked back at her from behind dirty glasses. To his right, an elderly woman stood hunched over, using his arm for support. Story smiled at them both, punching the number for the fourth floor.

“Hi, I’m Story,” she said quickly, to fill the silence. “Just visiting my father for the week.” Neither of them responded and the man aimed a dark look in her direction, preventing her from saying anything else. Unnerved by his unwavering stare, she averted her gaze, praying for the elevator to hurry.

When the doors rolled open, the man and woman exited slowly behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that the woman was having great difficulty walking, even with the younger man’s assistance. Not in the best shape, he labored underneath her weight.

After setting the groceries down outside Jack’s door, she turned and jogged back toward them. “Can I help?”

The man looked mildly startled by her offer, but nodded and shrugged. Story took the woman’s arm, helping them down the hallway.

Muttering to himself, he dug in his jeans and pulled out a set of keys to unlock the door. “Thank you. I can take it from here.”

“Okay, sure, no problem.” After a brief hesitation, she turned to leave. The woman appeared ready to collapse, but she didn’t want to force her help on them. He’d seemed reluctant accepting her help in the first place.

“Damned insurance company,” he suddenly called after Story, forcing her to turn back. He nodded toward the woman, who didn’t seem capable of speaking for herself. “They won’t cover her hospital stay any more. I had to miss work today to bring her home. Damned crooks. Damned
crooks
.”

A little startled by his vehement tone, Story edged toward her apartment door. “Sorry to hear that. Let me know if I can do anything to help out.”

“Thank you,” he said finally, studying her long and hard enough to discomfort her.

Story gathered the groceries and slipped inside, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. Locking the dead bolt quickly behind her, it occurred to her that maybe New Yorkers avoid their neighbors for good reason.

…

From where he was parked across the street, Daniel watched Story disappear inside the apartment building. He’d caught sight of her approaching two blocks away, her blond hair standing out like a beacon against the gray backdrop of the city. His fingers curled into his palm. He desperately wanted to follow her into the building, finish what they’d started earlier, but he couldn’t.

Minutes later, the light flicked on in Jack’s apartment and Daniel relaxed. After being called to a convenience store holdup in Midtown that the Emergency Services Unit, himself included, had resolved in under an hour, he’d come straight back here to find Story gone. And despite the intensity of his disappointment, he knew now it was for the best. The time he’d spent waiting for her to return safely had given him ample time to think.

Being recruited at age eighteen by the department had given Daniel purpose, but becoming a hostage negotiator saved his life. And he had Jack to thank for that. For everything. Before learning the careful control and reasoning ability it took to solve a hostage crisis, his dark past had threatened to swallow him whole. Moving between foster homes his entire youth and turning eighteen without any sense of direction, Daniel had been cast adrift like so many orphans who’d grown up without the benefit of parental guidance.

He would never fully escape the memories of his time being passed around the five boroughs between overcrowded homes. And one painful memory in particular. Learning to negotiate had given him a sense of control. Helped him cope with the pain of those years.

In the space of one afternoon, he’d jeopardized the very glue holding him together. Not to mention his relationship with the man who’d seen fit to pass on his hard-won wisdom. Despite his indebtedness toward Jack, he’d wasted no time in coming on to Story like a prisoner receiving his first conjugal visit in a decade. If Jack knew, he’d cut him off fast enough to make his head spin. Where would that leave him?

Against his will, Daniel’s mind drifted back to Story. Had it been temporary insanity or could she possibly be half as sweet as his memory reflected? Despite her initial bravado, he could tell she’d been surprised by her response to his touch, and that honesty had shaken him, inflamed him, until he’d taken it further than intended. If his cell phone hadn’t rung at that precise moment, Daniel held no doubts that he would still be upstairs exploring the staggering attraction he felt for her. Thoroughly. Repeatedly.

An image of Story’s head thrown back as he drove into her made Daniel slam the steering wheel with his fist. Getting physical with her had been one hell of a mistake. Because now that he’d been given a taste, his craving for her was nearly unbearable.

After a childhood spent being told he’d never amount to anything, he’d learned to earn approval through sex. But somewhere along the line, he’d stopped gaining any pleasure from his conquests until they all blurred together into a whirlwind of female voices and faces. Sex without connection. Cheapening him, but giving him nothing in return.

Not so with Story. With her, he’d been present. In the moment. He hadn’t been dreading the inevitable aftereffects. There hadn’t been room in his head for anything besides her.

Until last night, another man had called her his fiancé. A man whom she possibly still loved and cared for. Daniel’s jaw flexed at the reminder. Just the thought of some bastard’s hands on her hindered his ability to think clearly. A reaction unlike him on so many levels. One, his profession dictated that he keep a level head at all times, never allowing his emotions to outweigh his ability to reason. A trait that normally carried over into his personal life.

Two, he’d never given a damn before who his conquests were with before or after him. It never entered his mind once they left his apartment to catch a cab.

Daniel recalled the flicker of uncertainty he’d glimpsed on Story’s face after he made her climax. Almost as if she’d been embarrassed by her body’s needs. She lacked the confidence that a woman of her beauty typically possessed when it came to men. Apparently on top of being a bastard, her ex-fiancé had been a shitty lover, something for which he couldn’t exactly muster any outrage.

It shouldn’t matter, moron. You can’t have her.

Jack knew exactly what Daniel was. He’d been right to warn him away from Story. Who would want a masochistic man-whore anywhere near their daughter? He’d somehow managed to earn an inkling of trust from Jack from their years of working together, and in under an hour, he’d betrayed that trust. Proving his sickness, he wanted to do it again.

It totally figured that the only woman to shatter his control would be the daughter of the man who’d taught him the importance of discipline and restraint in the first place. He almost laughed at the irony of it all. Almost.

He wanted her. So goddamn bad. To show her what her body was capable of. To extinguish any trace of insecurity foisted on her by her previous relationship. Maybe her ex-fiancé had held her heart, but Daniel knew he could own her body if given the chance. He would have the pleasure of teaching her how to satisfy him in return. Not that it would take much. Simply being in the same room as Story aroused him to an agonizing degree. The thought of her, naked and eager to please, robbed him of breath.

In the name of self-preservation, Daniel put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb into the flow of traffic. If he sat outside the building any longer, he would be pounding on her door and demanding she let him in. In more ways than one.

She’d go back to California in a week or so once Jack recovered, and everything would return to normal. Daniel could go back to meaningless sex with near-strangers and over time Story’s image would fade from his mind.

Even he didn’t believe his own bullshit.