PLAYED - A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE (49 page)

“Change the future,” I finished for him. “Yeah. I
know. But it doesn’t make it better.”

“Not if you don’t let it,” he said. “Sandra… what I
did… what I
didn’t
do… that’s going to take a long time for me to
forgive. And I’ll work through it, someday. But what happened to you and your
sister? That was a lifetime ago. That’s something you’ve paid for time and time
again. I can see it in your eyes. Haven’t you punished yourself enough? What
would Jenny say?”

“Jenny’s dead,” I said. Even though it had been years,
tears sprang to my eyes like I’d lost her just yesterday. “She can’t say
anything.”

“But
you
can,” he insisted, standing up from
the table and walking to my side. He knelt down on the ground and took both my
hands in his, and I gasped audibly. “You can tell yourself you’re forgiven. You
can
stop
telling yourself that you’re worthless and to blame. You can
tell yourself it’s time to move on and that you’ll never make the same mistakes
again. And you can tell yourself that you’ll always be there for young people
like Jenny who got lost along the way, and that you’ll use your position in the
police department to offer them a way out.”

I looked down at our hands, my vision blurred by my
sorrow. This was the first time since I’d known him that Nathaniel Hale took
the time to ask me about my past. It was the first time I genuinely believed he
was listening to me. Staring at our entwined fingers I just wanted to cry. It
was beautiful.

“Doesn’t that seem a hell of a lot more fair to you
than spending your whole life as a prisoner of your own guilt? And doesn’t that
seem more fair to the lives you could save by doing so?”

I stared into his eyes, into those gold-green gems
glittering in the candlelight. I was looking for the lie, for the thing that
would tell me he wasn’t sincere. I didn’t believe anybody could know what I did
and tell me to forgive myself. I didn’t believe anyone could look at me the way
he was looking at me right now and really mean it.

But I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find anything but
honesty and acceptance. This was a man I’d known only as a sexual fling and a
childish asshole, but now, looking into his eyes, I felt like we were one and
the same. We were both looking for redemption. What if we’d found it in each
other?

“You deserve better than this,” he said to me, and I
couldn’t help it; I threw my arms around his neck, and without giving myself
even a millisecond to reconsider, I kissed him as hard as I could.

Our lips crashed together, but somehow fit as
perfectly as they always did. I felt fireworks go off in my chest and stars
burst behind my closed eyelids. I felt the heat of his body pressed against
mine, the scorching ferocity of his mouth blending with my own, his arms moving
around my waist to cradle me, comfort me, make me whole again.

As his strong fingers clutched at my back, I pulled
away, trembling violently. I looked again into his hazy, lust-filled eyes. His
jaw was clenched as he searched my face, looking very much like a man doing his
best to hold his desires back.

“Sandra,” he whispered, “we shouldn’t do this…”

“I know,” I told him, my lips aching for another kiss.
But it wouldn’t be right—not like this. Not when I was still assigned to his
case and sworn to protect him. I couldn’t do that if I was compromised by my
feelings. I’d broken things off with Nathaniel Hale for a good reason, and I
had to keep a professional distance no matter what my body was telling me.

I stood up, liberating myself from the circle of his
arms and wiping my eyes with the back of my wrist. Every cell in my body
screamed for me to return to him, but I couldn’t let my heart overrule my head.
I couldn’t put Nathan in potential danger by letting myself get distracted, and
after what I’d just done, I couldn’t bear to sit there and take another bite of
dinner.

“I’m going to bed,” I murmured, ignoring the longing
pulsations between my thighs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Nathan nodded slowly. I could see his rippling muscles
bunch up like he was ready to pin me to that couch and fuck away every bad
feeling and thought threatening to destroy me. I could almost feel the weight
of him on top of me, pushing me down, sinking into me as he made me his again.
I could taste his lips again, or feel the flame of his tongue darting against
my own. I could almost feel his flesh beneath my nails.

But no. Not
now. Not yet. Not until I knew he was safe.

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice strained as he watched
me pull the screen around the couch so I could change into my pajamas.

“Goodnight,” I echoed, slipping under the blanket I’d
brought from home. As I listened to the sounds of him cleaning up the table, I
tried desperately not to touch myself and drifted off into a restless night’s
sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE

Morning
came far too
quickly for a girl who’d spent the evening entrenched in nightmares.

I’d been dreaming about Jenny, of course, and my
mother, too. I’d dreamt their corpses were in our old living room, stuck with
the thousand needles they’d used to keep their demons at bay. They were bloated
and bruised, but all smiles, with teeth too bright for dead girls.

And all the while, they kept asking how
I
was,
if
I
had made myself a hero yet. And in my dream, all I could do was
say, “No, Mom,” and “No, Sis,” like some shameful little girl, and they laughed
and laughed and laughed.

Why the hell did you kiss him?
I thought to
myself, pondering my own stupidity as I sat up on the smelly couch. I guessed
the only good thing about last night was that the department was fighting a
budget crisis and probably didn’t have any ears in this room.

“Stupid,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure if I was talking
to myself or to the man still entombed in a sea of Egyptian cotton. We’d told
Nathan to pack for a week, and he apparently used most of his luggage space to
stow away miles of white sheets with an almost impossibly high thread-count. No
sleeping like a commoner for that man.

I didn’t need this. I didn’t need any of this. My life
was complicated enough without trying to jump back into bed with someone who’d
probably cut himself on cheap toilet paper. I’d learned my lesson once, and I
didn’t need to be reminded.

Did I want to
do it anyway? Yes. Was I going to? Hell no.

The sun was coming up, and he was still sleeping as I
began my little ritual. I spent five minutes at each window surveying the
ground, taking note of everything worth noting. Cars parked in the lot by make
and model, loitering individuals with their general descriptions, places
someone could hide… Captain Pierce would expect an update with his morning
coffee, and I wanted to be the detective on top of this case, not the woman who
spilled her heart out and kissed the star witness.

And there
was
a problem out there. There were
at least a dozen men posted about in unusual places. Not police, that much was
certain. I could spot an undercover from a mile away, but these men were
different. I spotted another one out on a little patch of grass on the edge of
the property, his back leaned up against a tree, hands in front of him and his
head slowly turning from one side to the other as if searching for something—or
someone. A moment later, a pair of men came rounding the block again, walking
calmly down the sidewalk. That was the third time they’d passed.

They were ex-military. No question. If I could see
twelve of them, there were probably a dozen more being a little less
conspicuous. With the entire apartment being too small to allow me a quiet
place to make the phone call, I decided the little area that doubled as a
living room was probably best. I lifted the phone to my ear.

“Detective, I
expected this call ten minutes ago.”

Captain Pierce
was being his usual rosy self.

“I have eyes on some men downstairs. At least twelve,
well trained. They appear to be holding position around the building.”

“Yes, Sandra. Mr. Hale insisted on private security.
We have a few trusted officers posted in the building, but we can’t afford to
throw an entire squad at this problem. The world doesn’t stop being a bad place
when a rich asshole needs protection. Mr. Hale has invested a small fortune in
protecting himself since your little visit to his house,” the Captain replied
gruffly.

“And you’re going to tell me these men can be trusted,
and that they aren’t potentially compromising this entire operation?” I asked
indignantly. How in the world could the Captain be okay with this? Mercenaries
were in it for the money, and if there was one thing Mr. Wallace had in
abundance, it was money. We were supposed to be running a low-profile
operation, not informing every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the tri-state area of
our location.

“How’s Mr. Hale holding up?” the Captain asked,
changing the subject without answering my question.

“He’s settling in,” I replied, staring over at the
lump under the sheets.

“Excellent.
Stay put and try not to worry, Candy.”

I cringed, biting my tongue and trying not to give the
Captain my what-for. He knew what he was doing. I could practically see the
sneer on this face, could practically hear him biting back a chortle in his
tone. This was going to be a long day…

“Morning,
sweetheart.”

I jumped two feet into the air, smacking my head
squarely on the slowly rotating ceiling fan that hung perilously low in the
shitty little living room. My head thrummed with pain as it came down into the
half-wall, half-counter that separated the efficiency, and my vision dwindled
into a tunnel as I hit the floor.

Click… Click…
Click…

The sound was aggravating. It wouldn’t stop, just an
incessant noise that was keeping me from enjoying this moment of rest. I
blinked, staring through hazy eyes at the ceiling, the rotating blades spinning
round with a lopsided motion and causing the metal chain that operated the fan
to smack against the lighted glass dome.

Click… Click…
Click…

“Are you okay?” Nathan asked softly. His face appeared
above me, a look of concern painted across it.

The fog was still lifting from my freshly-concussed brain,
but already I was identifying things that were wrong with my current situation.
For one, I was laying on the dirty-ass floor. For two, my eyes were locked on a
rather enormous and exceptionally erect penis. It had been awhile since I’d
stopped my little visits to Mr. Hale, and even longer since I’d been with a
man. For a brief moment, I considered doing something about that.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, his
balls jiggling as he moved.

“Oh, for God’s sakes, put some clothes on!” I shouted,
sitting up and rubbing my head. “Were you…? What the hell were you doing over
there?” I said, inadvertently glancing back at his erection.

“I… uh…”

“What, you can’t even make it one day? It’s bad enough
I have to share a space with you. You’d think you could at least keep your hand
off your dick while I’m around!”

My brain was sorting everything out, the cloud lifting
as I stared at this man. It didn’t matter that I was practically drooling—that
was probably thanks to the brain injury I’d just experienced. The icing on the
cake came as he started to laugh.

“No, you don’t get to laugh at this. I’m in here
trying to keep you alive. You don’t call me ‘sweetheart,’ and you don’t scare
me like that!”

“I’m sorry.
It’s not like you haven’t seen it before…”

“You’re
sorry
?
What exactly are you
sorry
about? Are
you sorry about last night? Are you sorry about the men outside, or the way
you’re risking this whole operation by telling every private security firm in
the region where you’re hiding?”

I was fuming now. I could hear my mother’s voice
pouring out of my lips as I chastised this entitled asshole.

“I trust those guys. I’ve used them in the past.
Besides, do you think the cops your captain posted in this building would stop
the Paddies? Maybe you weren’t paying attention last time Wallace went on
trial.”

He still made no attempt to cover himself, his cock
swinging side to side as he talked, drawing my eyes again and again like the
mechanized sweeping of a metronome.

“Trust me,” he
whispered, a grin spreading on his face.

He was doing this on purpose. I wrenched my eyes away
from his genuinely delicious-looking body and tried to calm my breathing.
“Clothes on. Now. No more secrets from here on out. If you intend to do
anything to change the nature of our living arrangement or our security, you
need to inform me immediately. And… no doing
that
,” I said, waving at the God-given gift between his thighs.

“I thought we were only supposed to be pretending?
You’re starting to sound like a nagging wife,” Nathan laughed. I hissed,
hackles rising as I realized the only way he’d take any of this seriously was
if the threat to his livelihood seemed real.

I stood up, crossing the space and wrapping a hand
around his most sensitive exposed parts.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, Nathan,” I said,
clamping down harder and listening to him yelp. “In here, you’re going to do
what I say, or I’m going to throw you to the wolves. Now, put your pants on.”

I released him, turning away and trying desperately to
ignore the burning desire inside me. I’d just touched his cock, and even though
I’d meant every word of my threat, all I could think about was how the smooth,
supple skin of his dick had felt so right in my grasp. The pleasurable
pulsations kissing him had inspired in me last night returned with a vengeance,
and I grimaced, trying my best to once again ignore them.

What the hell is wrong with you, Sandra? Don’t let
this man affect you like this. Hold it together…

I didn’t have a chance to revel in my little show of
force. Nathan’s hands swept up behind me, grasping at my wrists and lifting
them, throwing my hands against the wall as he pressed against me from behind.
I could feel the heat of his dick against my ass and his breath catching just
behind my ear.

“Jesus Christ, Sandra. Do you even understand what you
do to me?” he whispered, holding my wrists tighter as my palms pressed against
the cool wood paneling. His breath swept through the hairs at my nape, sending
goosebumps over every inch of my skin. “Women fall over themselves to be with
me. Bag the rich guy—that’s the game, isn’t it? They play pretend. They want
something. All of them want something. You were always different. You never
asked me for anything...”

“I only wanted you.”

“Then why the fuck did you break it off with me?”
Nathan said, straining against me.

“Because you were too self-obsessed to give yourself
to anyone. All we had was sex and lies. I hated your immaturity. I hated
everything about you,” I said, my body practically purring with excitement.

He released my wrists, but I kept my palms firmly
planted against the wall, rocking my hips ever so slightly against him and
gasping as his fingertips brushed slowly down my sides. He paused at the edge
of my breasts, feeling them through the thin t-shirt I’d slept in, teasing the
rounded edges before moving on to my hips.

“I’m not that man anymore, Sandra,” he said huskily,
his voice strained as he pressed his fingertips into the soft spots at the
front of my hips. I could feel the slight tremor of his touch—he was so close
to losing control. He pressed harder, and I knew there would be bruises in the
shape of his fingers by the afternoon.

I didn’t care. In fact, I realized, I
wanted
them. I wanted to look into the
mirror later and see the remnants of when Nathaniel Hale’s lust had gotten the
better of him—and of me. Every time I looked at my hips for the next few days,
I wanted to shiver at the reminder of all the dirty, filthy things this man had
done to me.

I moaned as he pressed his lips into my neck, gliding
them over my flesh. He left scorching trails wherever he went, like he was
setting fire to my very being with only the power of his caress. I could feel
my pussy pulsing with want—no, with
need.

I wanted to hate-fuck Nathaniel Hale into oblivion,
and maybe even beyond.

I wanted to take out all my frustrations on this
spoiled brat. I wanted to make
him
want for something, for once, something I’d deny him until he was begging and
pleading and broken beneath me. But as much as I wanted that, I wanted him to
take me, too, to show me what I’d been missing since the day I left him high
and dry in his fancy little castle on the hill.

“You always been so fucking beautiful,” he whispered,
biting ever so softly on the slender expanse of muscle between my shoulder and
neck. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, my knees trembling as he blew warm
air over his teeth marks. “I can’t control myself around you, not since that
first time,” he added breathily, his hands forcing my loose flannel bottoms
down over my hips, the pants pooling around my ankles as my skin tingled in the
cool air.