“I didn’t mean it to come out likethat. I was just trying to be clear that we couldn’t keep doing…exactly whatwe’re still doing.”
He sounds disappointed in himself.He’s worried about his job. He’s worried about how this will complicate things.Can’t say he’s wrong since this has already complicated things as it is.
I roll so that I’m facing him andset my elbow on my pillow as I rest my head on my palm. “I’m not trying to makeyou lose your job here, Bryce.”
His gaze shifts to me, seeming tosee me for the first time since we fucked. I wonder what he’s thinking…whathe’s heard about me on some blog or YouTube video. Is he judging me for the well-publicizedJordan shit? Does he think I’m this insatiable whore? I know the answer, anddespite my desire to say something, what’s the point? A defense isn’t going tomean much to someone who has so much evidence to suggest that he’s right aboutall his preconceived notions.
“I am an adult here,” I say. “Andin case you missed the headlines, I don’t have an issue with developingattachments.”
“I don’t doubt that.” He can’trealize how much those words hurt me, but it’s because he doesn’t know me.Because he’s bought into the lie.
“It’s a little more than that,” hesays. “I don’t know how much your private investigator told you about whathappened…”
“It was an email. A mention that youguys had a big disaster while you were working to expose a drug cartel in NorthCarolina.”
“Jeff was his name. Jeff Morgan. We’dbeen together for a while before he was hired to go undercover in Fayettevilleto break up a drug ring that ran out to the west coast, covering over elevenstates. We hadn’t told anyone in the department what we were doing privately,so it wasn’t much of an issue for me to get on the same gig. And I mean, theonly reason we’d even ended up together was because everyone acknowledged thatwe worked so well together. They just didn’t understand how well. In a lot ofways, it felt like we were undercover twice over because we had to makeeveryone at the department think that we were just coworkers and act like justbuddies with the Cossettos, the family that ran the North Carolina branch ofthe cartel.
“It was a messy operation. Wedidn’t know this at the time, but the cops in were in on it. The Cossettos werecutting them a deal, but I think we underestimated how well-connected thefamily was when we went in. We got away with our covers for about four monthsbefore someone discovered us, and one night, a night that we believed we weregoing to be witnessing one of the major deliveries that would have helped usfind out where their shipments went from the Cossetto’s warehouses inAsheville, we discovered it was a trap. One of Cossetto’s sons turned a gun onme, and Jeff jumped in front of it. Took the bullet himself. Gave me time topull out my own gun and turn it on the son and then one of his goons. There wasone guy left, and he tackled me. While we were fighting, he knocked my gun outof my hand. He pulled out a blade from his pocket. Cut me.”
His scar.
“Fortunately, Jeff managed to grabmy gun, and he shot the guy before he had a chance to off me. And I took him tothe hospital that night, and…and he didn’t make it.”
His eyes water, and his jawtenses, assuring me that he’s fighting back the tears.
“That’s terrible,” I say. My wordsdo little to provide him with the consolation that I’m sure he needs right now,but I don’t know what else to say to something like that.
“Jeff saved me twice that night,and I couldn’t even save him once.”
I’m about to say something aboutthe morbid thought when he says, “Sorry. Guess that kind of shit’s what therapistsare for, right? I just…this situation…hooking up like this, reminds me of allthat hiding with Jeff. Sneaking around. Having to keep everything we’re doingfrom everyone. And I know we’re just talking about hooking up here, but I thoughtyou should know what happened to me the last time I had a hard time separatingmy work from my personal life. That’s why I left that night. Don’t even knowwhy I’m telling you any of this.”
“I know I may come across like Idon’t give a shit about other people’s feelings,” I say, “but I do have thecapacity to sympathize with other humans.”
He smiles. “No, I know.”
“If you really think that we don’tneed to do this anymore—”
“I’m not sure that’s an option atthis point,” he says, his expression serious as he looks into my eyes. I knowwhat he means. I’d hoped he’d been feeling the same thing as me—that the sex istoo hot, too intense for him to push away. I’m relieved to know he doesn’t wantto give this up either.
“It’s just sex,” I assure him,hoping he’ll see the difference between what he had with Jeff and what we’redoing. That he’ll allow us this, because after what we’ve shared, I feel likeif he denies me again, it’ll hurt…physically hurt because of how badly I wantto fuck him again. “And I mean, it would probably keep me out of trouble if Iknew I could get it right when I wrapped up a game, you know?”
He grins, and I’m pleased knowingthat my joke managed to snap him out of our intense conversation about hispast.
“So I would be doing myself afavor if I kept fucking you?” he asks.
“For sure. I mean, if you playyour cards right, I might never need to leave the hotel rooms if we fuckenough.”
He leans forward and scoots towardme. “Oh, really?” he says, his lip curled upward slyly as he approaches. “Maybeyou’ve just found a way of making both our lives a little easier.”
He stops so that his lips areright before mine. I’m waiting for him to kiss me. To take me again. He sitsthere, looking down at me as if he knows how powerful his hold on me is. Howimpossible it is for me to fight this powerful magnetism that he emits.
“I have a reputation for beingeasy,” I say, “and I would hate to disappoint you.”
He doesn’t make a move, so I leanforward and kiss him.
The sensations that prick throughme remind me of just how powerful a hold he has over me, and I’m relievedknowing that it sounds like there will be many more experiences like this.
Eighteen
