Kaleidoscope

Chapter Seven


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Five hours later…

“Deck,” Chace warned low, his hand in Deck’s chest, holding him back from Kenton Douglas.

“Tell me you’re shitting me,” Deck demanded, his eyes locked to Douglas.

“She was in the possession of physical evidence that linked Dane McFarland to a crew of thieves who have been working this county for six months, recruiting vulnerable high school students to do their dirty work,” Douglas replied. “That evidence had to be collected, as did her statement. Jesus, Decker, you told us about the ring yourself. And I took her statement with a deputy, and you’re right. She corroborated your report that she thought it was a gift he purchased and was visibly stunned by the news it wasn’t. It’s clear she has no knowledge of what’s going on. So clear, we didn’t even ask her to go to the station.”


The news Emme was “visibly stunned” made Deck, already unhappy, seriously f*cking unhappy.

“You approached her without telling me,” Deck shot back. “And I told you when I told you about the ring that in any dealings with Emme, you don’t do shit without telling me.”

“You’re not running this investigation, Decker. We can’t sit on evidence,” Douglas returned.

“An hour after you visited her, I handed you enough to bring them all in without that f*ckin’ ring,” Deck snarled.

“She can’t keep stolen property,” Douglas retorted.

“I didn’t say she’d keep it,” Deck gritted. “F*ck, she didn’t even want it when she thought it was a gift McFarland bought her. But I wanted to be the one to tell her her ex-boyfriend was involved in that mess.”

“I’m thinking maybe you should have divulged how deep your link to her was before you signed the contract,” Douglas fired back, watching him closely.

“That wasn’t pertinent to the investigation,” Deck replied.

Douglas’s brows shot up and Deck knew why. That was bullshit and they both knew it.

He just didn’t give a f*ck.

Deck continued, “I told you I wouldn’t blow your investigation. I also told you I’d clear her. I didn’t say smack about the investigation and I cleared her within twenty-four hours. You yourself questioned her and you know she’s an innocent in this whole gig or she’d be being booked like the rest of them are right now. You have not one material or circumstantial piece of evidence that ties her to that f*cked-up shit. But she was mine to handle. I made that clear and you visited her at her goddamned house.”

“You’re right. We don’t have any evidence and that’s why she’s not one of the five people arrested tonight,” Douglas returned. “But that ring is evidence and it needed to be procured, today, not whenever you got around to it.”

Deck growled.

Chace said, “Kent, give me a minute with Deck, will you?”

Douglas looked to Chace then to Deck. He jerked up his chin and walked out of Shaughnessy’s office, leaving the two men alone.

Chace dropped his hand and stepped away but held Deck’s eyes.

“What the f*ck is goin’on?” he asked low.

“Emme’s mine,” Deck answered and watched Chace’s head jerk.

“Yours?”

“Mine,” Deck bit out.

Light dawned so Chace started, “I thought you said—”

Deck cut him off. “Things changed.”

Chace’s brows went up. “In seventy-two hours?”

Deck moved to the whiteboard, ripped off the black-and-white picture of Emme and threw it at Chace. It sliced through the air and landed on the floor, faceup.

“That,” he pointed to the picture, “comes with all that’s Emme, and all that’s Emme has f*ckin’ been Emme for f*ckin’ years. Had dinner with her twice. Talked to her on the phone a lot more than that. So, yeah, in seventy-two f*ckin’ hours, and I wish I had seventy-one of them back.”

“She’s not arrested, Deck,” Chace said carefully. “She’s cleared. She isn’t even a suspect. Douglas and his deputy talked to her less than an hour. You said she wasn’t tight with this guy and that she’s even breakin’ up with him. This is done for her. What’s the big f*ckin’ deal?”

“The big f*ckin’ deal is, she’s supposed to be at my house and she was supposed to text me when she got there four and a half hours ago. She didn’t. I called. She picked up and then she hung up on me without even sayin’ hi. This happened five f*ckin’ times. That’s the big f*ckin’ deal.”

“Oh shit,” Chace muttered, knowing what that meant.

“Yeah. Douglas shared and she’s got ideas seein’ as me and McFarland are probably the only two who knew about that ring. She doesn’t know about my work, but she isn’t stupid. Even not knowing, she knows. I asked Max to go to her place to check she’s okay, she wasn’t home. No Bronco. Made calls. Got boys lookin’ everywhere, not hard to spot a bronze Bronco with a f*ckin’ glittery butterfly hangin’ from the rearview. Hours. Nothing.”

“You told me things changed, I could have finessed that for you,” Chace told him.

“Sorry, man, I was too busy solving a case in three days you and a task force of your brethren couldn’t solve in six months. Should have kept you up to speed on who I decided I’m gonna take to my bed. I’ll do that next time.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Chace clipped. “You know your relationship with someone involved with someone involved in an investigation is pertinent to that investigation. You also know it’s seriously pertinent to me partnerin’ with you on this investigation and if you’d shared, I could have f*ckin’ finessed it.”

F*ck.

He was right.

And that sucked.

Deck said nothing.

Chace studied his friend.

Then he murmured, “Jesus, she’s it for you.”

“Look at the picture, Chace,” he pointed to the photo on the floor. “All that’s been there fourteen years and I didn’t see it. F*cked around, pinin’ for f*ckin’ Elsbeth and I didn’t see it. She kept it hidden from me. From everybody. Now, for some reason, she’s let it out. But what’s worse, she’s been a town over and I didn’t know it. I didn’t know she took down the veil. Part of that, I’ll add, is thanks to you not sharin’ that info. Now I’ve had it without havin’ it for seventy-two hours and she’s disappeared.”

“You’ll find her.”

“And what do you think I’m gonna find?” Deck asked. “You know her history. You knew her before. She tries it with Dane, finds out he’s f*cked. She was willin’ to go there with me, not eager, freaked, but I got her there, and she thinks I played her. What am I gonna find, Chace?”

“Just talk to her, man.”

“This kinda shit can take her right back behind that veil she’s been hidin’ behind since that shit happened to her when she was twelve.”

His friend’s eyes lit with understanding, Chace moved closer and his voice got lower. “Then find her and talk to her, man.”

Deck held Chace’s eyes then it occurred to him Emme was out there pissed, maybe hurt, and he was wasting time. So he jerked up his chin.

But he didn’t move to the door.

He stated, “Kenton Douglas knew he didn’t approach Emme. He knew she was mine. He’s not stupid either so I reckon he also knows how she’s mine. He’s impatient to make his mark. I think he’s got good in him. I think he’ll do good things for the office. But you, Henry, Shaughnessy, Carole, watch out. Enthusiasm like that can turn bad.”

“He jumped the gun and Emme’s Mick’s, Deck. You don’t know Mick well but he considers every citizen of Gnaw Bone his personal responsibility. You weren’t here when Douglas got back from talkin’ to Emme, but Mick was not real pleased because Douglas didn’t even tell Mick he was makin’ that ride. Mick also understood you had a connection and he’s the kind of man who would have told you he was rollin’ out in a cruiser so you’d have a heads-up. So, what I’m sayin’ is, this isn’t lost on us.”

They held each other’s gazes for a moment before Deck murmured, “I gotta find my girl.”


“You want my help?” Chace offered.

“You feel like cruisin’ a few streets before goin’ home to Faye, yeah.”

Deck knew the answer before Chace gave it to him.

“I can do that.”

Deck nodded. They moved out and Deck avoided Douglas as he did so.

No one stopped him. His file was thorough. Officers went out to pick up suspects after three pages were read. They were busy following leads Deck gave them and corroborating evidence he supplied.

But Deck’s job was done.

So it was time to find Emme.

* * *

Four and a half hours later…

As Deck’s truck moved down the street to his house, he knew why neither he, nor any of his boys, nor Chace, nor anyone he’d put a feeler out to could find Emme.

Because she was at his house.

He did not know if that was good or bad.

But he reckoned it was bad.

He hit his garage door opener, drove by her Bronco in his drive and parked in the garage.

Snow was being forecast for the night. He’d move her truck in after they had the conversation he figured they were going to have.

He found her in his great room, no jacket, no scarf, no purse. She’d lit out so pissed she likely hadn’t grabbed anything but her keys.

She was sitting on one of his denim-covered sofas, Buford sitting on the floor by her side, his head on her knee, her hand scratching behind his ears. His dog didn’t move anything except his eyes to Deck when he walked in, that was how much he liked exactly where he was. Hell, Deck reckoned this could have been their positions for the last seven hours, Buford liked to have his ears scratched that much.

He stopped moving, they locked eyes and before he could say a word, she started.

“You knew me for five years, didn’t even mildly flirt. You,” she lifted her hands and did air quotation marks, “run into me three days ago when I’m with Dane, after nine years of nothing, you’ve got all the time in the world for me.”

“Em—”

She interrupted him, saying, “Don’t even start. Whatever you’ve got to say will be full of shit.” He took two steps toward her but she halted his progress by hissing, “Don’t bother. I’m leaving.”

She gave Buford one last stroke and rose from the couch as he spoke. “Emme, listen to me.”

“No f*cking way,” she told the floor, eyes to her feet, feet moving fast.

Deck moved faster.

He cut her off and she tried rounding him so he shifted and cut her off again.

She took two steps back and squared off, eyes slicing back to his.

“Let me pass, Jacob,” she demanded.

“Baby, you gotta—”

He didn’t get that out. For some reason, his words tripped something in her and she advanced, fast. Shoving a palm into his chest, she pushed hard. He rocked back and caught her wrist in his hand.

“Emme—”

“I missed you.”

F*ck.

“Em—”

She leaned into him and her hand. “You played me.”

His hand tightened around her wrist and he growled, “I f*ckin’ did not.”

“Bullshit,” she snapped.

“Listen to me.”

“F*ck that,” she bit out. “This is for the birds. Next time I’m puking my guts out and so goddamned tired, I want to cry because I have to pull myself out of bed to get a 7Up to settle my stomach but I’m too f*cking tired to even cry, I won’t lie there and think how f*cked-up shitty it is to be so goddamned alone and so f*cking lonely. Scared I’ll die, no one will care. No man. No kids. F*ck that. I’ll lie there knowing all I had and all I ever had to depend on is me and that’ll get me through.”

F*ck!

“Emme, shut it and f*ckin’ listen to me,” he ordered.

“No f*cking way,” she hissed. “Let go of my hand.”

“Listen to me.”

“Let go!” she yelled, twisting her wrist to get away.

But he took a step back at the same time yanking her with him. Then he took a step forward so she collided with his frame. Her other hand came up to break her fall so when he let her wrist go and clamped both arms around her, she was stuck, her arms caught between them.

She struggled.

His arms got tighter.

She stopped struggling and her head jerked back. “Let me go.”

“I can’t talk about my work.”

“Yeah,” she tossed back. “Bet that’s even more so when it’s a mark you’re playing for your work asking about said work.”

“Emme, you weren’t a mark. Honest to God, I was as surprised as you when I met you on the street, and I didn’t know you were involved in the investigation they were contracting me for until ten minutes after we made plans for dinner.”

“Now I bet you were glad you made that date,” she shot back with extreme sarcasm.

“Yeah, I was, babe, because,” his arms grew tighter and his face dipped closer, “I missed you too.”

“Well, you know, seeing as you lived not far away for a while and you have awesome powers, I figure if you did miss me so damned much, you could have done something about it. That was a door you had to open, Jacob, and we both know it. But you didn’t. Not until I was dating a felon you were investigating. So forgive me if I find the coincidence too much to take. But I f*cking,” she got up on her toes, narrowed those f*cking beautiful eyes, her fire dancing in them, and she finished, “do.”

She wouldn’t shut up and listen?

He’d shut her up and communicate a different way.

So he did.

He slid one hand up to cup the back of her head, tilted it and crushed his mouth to hers.

She struggled, opening her mouth to protest and he slid his tongue inside.

F*ck, she smelled of strawberries and tasted like them too. Fresh, cool and sweet.

At the touch of his tongue, Emme went completely still.

Deck pressed his advantage and deepened the kiss, drinking from her mouth, taking all he could get.

Christ. Unbelievable.

It became more unbelievable.

Because two seconds in, she… went… wild.

Fingers fisting in his shirt, pulling him to her even when he had nowhere to go, she rolled further up on her toes, tilted her head more, tangled her tongue with his and pressed everything she had deep, her whimper filling his mouth.

Not unbelievable.

Phenomenal.

Without releasing her mouth, Deck shifted back an inch to give her her arms and she instantly tugged them out but only to curl her fingers in his jacket and yank it down his arms.

He let her go and shrugged it off. Mouths still connected, after his jacket dropped to the floor, he walked her backward.

Her hands went back to his shirt at the sides, wrenching it up, pulling it out of his jeans then they dove in, skin against skin, her touch warm, light, slightly tentative, definitely searching, discovering.

He steadied her with an arm around her waist, bowing his back to keep her mouth, and walked her down the three steps to his great room before he angled her to the couch.

She pulled one hand out of his shirt and slid it up his chest, it curled around the side of his neck then slid up in his hair and she held his mouth to hers.

He twisted them and fell back over the arm of the couch, taking her with him.

She landed on his body and he rolled instantly, trapping her underneath him, all the while he kept at her mouth.

She didn’t deny him, one hand roaming, losing the shyness, becoming confident, another little mew slid down his throat and her nails dragged down the skin over his spine.

He tore his mouth from hers to mutter, “F*ck, baby.”

Eyes closed, she lifted her head and pressed her lips against his, this time her tongue slid into his mouth.

He growled and pressed her deeper into the couch. His hands moving to her sweater, he yanked up.

Her arms flew up and she arched her back. He pulled it off and bent to her. Lips to her jaw, he touched his tongue to it, trailing down the salty skin, smelling her hair, tasting her neck, down to her chest, down, his path defined.

“You know what I want, Emme,” he said against her skin, and she did. He knew it when her fingers curled into the cup of her bra and pulled down.

Her breast was as gorgeous as the rest of her.

He closed his mouth over her nipple and drew in hard.

Her back arched, her soft hips grinding into his hard ones and she moaned a sexy-as-f*ck moan he felt in his dick.

He drew her nipple in harder.

“Jacob,” she breathed, fingers sliding into his hair.

“Other one,” he ordered, then circled the tight bud with his tongue and he felt her resulting shiver.

Without delay, her other hand lifted to pull down the other cup of her bra and he switched sides.

She bucked underneath him.

F*ck, so goddamned hot, he needed to know what that was doing to her and he needed to know immediately.

So he set about finding out.

Rolling so she was on top, he knifed up, undid her bra and pulled it away, tossing it aside. He lay back, taking her with him. Rolling again, he got her under him, put his hands under her arms and jerked her all the way up the couch so her head was on the armrest, the sexy little gasp this caused he also felt in his dick.

Then he slid down, yanked down the zippers on her boots, tugged them off, then socks, jeans, panties, all cast aside.

“Spread,” he growled.

On another sexy mew, Emme spread.

Deck bent forward and fed.

Christ. Hot. Drenched. Pure beauty. Absolute.

Hands in his hair, one leg over the back of the couch, she shifted the other over his shoulder, digging her heel in his back as she rolled herself up, offering her p-ssy, seeking his mouth, demanding he take everything she had.

He took it until her movements and noises got desperate.

Then he rolled off the couch.

Her head moved his way, those exotic f*cking eyes of hers closed but she opened them to blink in surprise and he reached down and took hold of her arm. She cried out, the noise part turned-on gasp as she came up fast. He caught her bare, round ass in a hand, his other hand drove into her hair and tipped her mouth to his.

He felt his gut tighten when, even with the taste of her in his mouth, she let him take it as she wound her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips.

Kissing her, he walked her through the house to his bed.

Putting a knee to it at the foot, he walked her up, rested her on the pillows then slid away. He stood at the end of the bed, hands going to the buttons of his shirt as she looked down the bed at him. Eyes lazy. A blush in her cheeks.

She was gone.

F*ck him.

“Jacob,” she whispered, starting to close her legs.

“Stay spread for me, baby.”

Her teeth found her lip, her cheeks got pinker, she hesitated but let her legs settle open for him.

Christ.

Her hair all over his pillow, her sex glistening wet and gorgeous, the taste of it still on his tongue, her eyes half closed, her face flushed, his dick started to throb.

He wasted no time taking off the rest of his clothes and joining her. Reaching beyond her to the nightstand, he opened the drawer and left it open after he grabbed a condom.

Kneeling between her opened legs, he held her eyes as he rolled it on.

“You’re beautiful, Emme,” he whispered.

“Jacob—”

He fell forward and covered her, lips to her lips, he rolled his hips and positioned the tip of his cock inside.

“I’m big, honey,” he murmured against her mouth.

“I noticed,” she breathed, her arms rounding him.

He slid an inch deeper.

Tight.

Heaven.

F*ck, he wanted to bury himself inside.

“You can’t take me, tell me, or you can’t talk, bite my shoulder.”

“More,” she panted, lifting her hips.

F*ck yes.

He slid an inch deeper.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.

Slick. Close.

F*cking heaven.

“More, honey,” she begged.

He gave her more, slid out and partially back in.

“Jacob—”

“We go slow.”

He gave her more, slid out and then partially back in.

She squirmed under him, tipping up her hips.

Beautiful.

F*ck. Killing him.

“Jacob—”

“Slow.”

“God,” she whimpered as he gave her more, slid back out and then in.

Her legs rounded him and her nails again scraped his back.

“Jacob—”

He opened his eyes. “Slow.”

“But—”

He slid out and back in.

“I—” she began.

“Sl—” he started to repeat, but she tipped her chin, caught his lower lip between her teeth, locked her eyes with his, let his lip go and begged, “Please, honey, f*ck me.”

Her words, her actions broke his control and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He thrust in savagely and buried himself to the root.

Her neck arched back, mouth open, moan silent, limbs convulsing, sex rippling, she took all of him and liked it.

F*ck.

“More,” she breathed.

That was all Deck needed.

He pounded deep, watched and felt her reach for it, take hold and slide over the side, crying out, her neck arced, the elegant line of her jaw exposed, then her head shot forward and she buried her face in his neck.

He rode her hard, harder, then he planted himself, and Emme’s fire dancing behind his eyes, Emme his entire universe, Deck exploded on a long, deep groan.

After it left him, he felt her p-ssy slick and tight around his cock, her body soft and yielding under his, her limbs wrapped around him tight and her face was still buried in his neck.

He turned his head so he could find her ear with his lips and when he did, he whispered, “Like I was sayin’, Emme, you were not a mark.”

Her body tensed under him, her limbs starting to release.

He pressed his hips into hers, she stilled and he growled, “That went a lot faster than I reckon you were ready to go, but doesn’t matter. This is where we are now and this is the beginning. And don’t piss me off by stayin’ angry when you now know you got no call to be and tryin’ to push me away by tellin’ me that wasn’t as hot and f*ckin’ great for you as it was for me because I won’t believe you.”

She said nothing.

So he went on.

“And, babe, you’re pissed, you got a filthy mouth.”

Again he felt a tensing of her body before she relaxed.

“You curse all the time,” she whispered.

“I’m allowed. I’m a guy.”

This time, her body jerked, her head snapped back and her eyes found his.

Hers were sated, surprised, confused and peeved.

It was a hot look. It also was a cute one.

He grinned at her.

The peeved left, soft came in and she whispered, “You’re teasing.”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes moved over his face, around his head, then back to his before she asked, “Did we just do what we just did?”

His grin got bigger. “Oh yeah.”

“I’m not sure I can face Buford again. He saw me naked.”

Cute. Sweet.

Emme.

F*ck.

He was buried inside Emme.

Sweet.

“That’s not good, babe, ’cause I’m not gonna lock him outta my room seein’ as it’s his room too so he’s gonna see a lot of that.”

Her expression shifted in a way he didn’t like and she started, “Jacob—”


He had a feeling they were getting into the confused part of her earlier look, which could mean Emme’s retreat. Something he was not about to let happen.

Not after the beauty she just let loose and gave him.

To stop it, he dropped his mouth to touch it to hers, lifted up and said, “I gotta get rid of this condom. Then I gotta put on my jeans and make a dozen calls to guys I got all over the county lookin’ for you. Then I gotta pull your Bronco in the drive ’cause we’re gettin’ weather tonight and I got a three-car garage so I don’t have to scrape the windshields of any vehicle. I’ll get you a tee. You get your ass to the kitchen because I haven’t eaten dinner seein’ as I’ve been all over the f*ckin’ place lookin’ for you. So as penance, you’re gonna make me a sandwich. We’ll talk while I’m eatin’ it.”

“You and a bunch of guys were looking for me?” she asked, her eyes bigger, her look stunned.

“Babe, you don’t gotta be a genius to know something’s up when you call me at the drop of a hat to connect and suddenly you’re hangin’ up on me after you get a visit from the sheriff about a ring you told me about. But, reminder, I am a genius so I figured it out. I got worried. You were pissed. Probably hurt. And not home so that meant both of those and in a car. So I sent men searching.”

“I don’t know whether to laugh because you’re funny. Apologize that I put you to that trouble. Or be hurt and angry because you didn’t tell me Dane was a serious bad guy and not only does he work for me, I was seeing him.”

F*ck. It appeared he’d solved one problem giving her an orgasm, now he had a different one.

He slanted his head, brushed his lips up her jaw and, in her ear, whispered, “We’ll talk over a sandwich.”

She hesitated before she agreed, “Okay.”

He slid out and liked the way her limbs tightened around him as he did. Then he slid his lips over her chest as he rolled them across the bed and finally pulled her out of it.

He put her on her feet, grabbed her hand and led her to his chest of drawers. He opened one and yanked out a tee but he didn’t give it to her. He shook it out, bunched it up and pulled it over her head.

Emme pushed her arms through and the tee dropped down to her thighs.

He cupped her jaw with his hands and bent close.

“You want me to go get your panties?” he asked.

“I’ll get them,” she whispered.

He nodded, lifted up, kissed her forehead, let her go and moved to the bathroom.

He had his jeans on, pulled on a sweater and had his phone to his ear while he was making his way through the house to the garage when he saw Emme in his kitchen, her back to him. She was at the counter with bread, condiments and Ziplocs of deli supplies spread around her.

All that was Emmanuelle Holmes in his kitchen in his tee making him a sandwich after he’d f*cked her and they’d both come hard.

That did not suck.

He grinned at his phone as he told one of his boys to go home.

Then he saw her jeans folded on the couch, made a correct guess and found her keys in a pocket. He went out and pulled in the Bronco. It hurt, even driving a few feet in a Bronco with a butterfly hanging from the rearview mirror, but he survived it.

He did this on the phone and by the time he got back to the kitchen, she had a sandwich on a plate with chips, pickles and an open beer on his bar and he was on his last call.

“Right. Thanks. Later,” he said into his phone, his eyes on her where she was all the way across the kitchen, facing him, back to the counter, arms wrapped around her stomach, eyes on him.

He disconnected and put his cell to the bar.

Then he said gently, “Come here, Emme.”

“I made roast beef and Swiss, seeing as you had them I figured you liked them. But I didn’t know what condiments to use. If you were a beef and mayo man. A beef and mustard man. Or other,” she informed him.

“Come here, Emme.”

Uncertainty moved through her features and she whispered, “That never happened to me.”

“We got chemistry. Personally, babe, I’m not surprised,” he replied.

“Not that.” She was still whispering.

He took a guess and went to her.

He was intense during sex. Their late-night conversation the other night exposed she had concerns about pleasing him, and he deduced this was because she wasn’t exactly experienced. This was not a surprise. But it was something he told himself to have a mind to. When she went wild on him, he’d forgotten that.

He stopped close to her, but not too close, curved his fingers around her hips and dipped his face to hers.

“Right, honey. That got outta hand and I saw your indecision when I told you to expose yourself to me. Just know, I know what I like in bed. I get it even if that means I give orders to get it. But I hope you get with what just happened, even though I control everything there, I’ll always take care of you, and no matter what I ask or do, you’re safe.”

“Not that,” she repeated. “The orgasm.”

His chin jerked back.

“What?”

“I… um… no one’s ever…” Her eyes went anywhere but to his. Then, pure Emme, she couldn’t hold evasive for more than a few seconds, they came back to his. “I was concerned it was me,” she finished quietly.

Deck stared.

“No shit?” he asked.

“Well…” she trailed off.

“No man’s ever made you come?”

She tipped her head to the side and shrugged.

He couldn’t believe this.

“Seriously, you light up like that and no man’s ever taken that home?” he pressed.

“I don’t, well… normally light up like that.” She took in an unsteady breath and stated, “I don’t know what came over me.”

Deck f*cking loved this.

He fought a grin as he suggested, “Maybe because it’s never been me?”

Her head jerked, her eyes flashed and she replied, “You think a lot of yourself.”

“Babe, you got your tits out for me. You spread yourself over my couch for me. You opened yourself for me in my bed. And you begged me to f*ck you and you came hard and fast for me. Yeah. After that, I do.”

Her peeved expression came back.

“I hardly need a blow-by-blow, Jacob. I was there,” she snapped.

“Well, I don’t want you to forget any of it seein’ as I won’t and we’re gonna act out that scenario again. It was so hot, maybe repeatedly.”

“Jacob—”

He rounded her with his arms and pulled her into his body, one hand sliding up her back into her hair.

He quit f*cking with her and gentled his voice when he said, “Emmanuelle, that was good. Explain to me why you seem conflicted.”

“Because I was really angry with you and then I was all over you. Then you were all over me and I liked it and I’m not sure angry sex is healthy sex.”

Yeah. Definitely inexperienced. Angry sex arguably could be the best sex you could get.

Teasing but hoping she took his point and it eased her mind, he replied, “Then I’m f*cked because, with you, angry sex is f*ckin’ great sex and I hope it happens a lot.”

“I’m being serious,” she whispered.

“So am I,” he replied, and she blinked.

“You are?”

“Babe, you’re here, in my tee, I think you get I didn’t play you, so we worked it out.” He gave her a squeeze. “In a good way. So I’m not complaining. We argue, that’s the end of the argument, I won’t complain then either.”


Again, her eyes roamed to anything but his and he gave her another squeeze.

“Talk,” he ordered.

Her eyes came back to his. “I don’t have a lot of experience.”

“I know. You did, I wouldn’t have gotten that phone call late the night before last that was not about what Elsbeth said about me but about you worried you weren’t gonna please me. I got it then. I got somethin’ that pleased me fifteen minutes ago. Better yet, for the first time, you got somethin’ that pleased you.” He moved his face closer and finished, “Honey, it’s all good.”

“You need to eat your sandwich,” she informed him, blatantly changing the subject.

Deck denied the subject change. “Not before you tell me you’re good.”

“I’m good… ish.”

He fought back another grin then demanded to know, “Explain the ish part.”

“Dane.”

It was definitely time to get conversation about that moron over and done with. So Deck sighed, turned them, rested back against the counter and pulled her close so her body was resting on his. She allowed it and he spoke.

“I know you’ve heard this more than once but I can’t talk about my work.”

She opened her mouth. He shook his head.

“Give me a second, Emme.”

She shut her mouth.

“Within a day, you’d decided to break up with him. You weren’t broken up about it. You hadn’t been seein’ him long. You were more worried about workin’ with him once it was over than hurtin’ his feelings or nursing your own hurt. You weren’t sure. You were right not to be sure. You were gonna end it. I was workin’ on ending other things for him. So even if I could have talked, for you, there was nothin’ I could say. If you were in deep with him, that would have been different. But straight up that first night you stated you weren’t. Fifteen hours later, you were done with him. You did my job for me ’cause knowin’ what I knew and not likin’ the guy even if he wasn’t a felon, I intended to make you done with him. Either way, it got done. In other words, baby, this point is moot.”

She held his eyes then she looked to his sweater. Seconds later, she collapsed into him. Her weight pressing deep, her forehead to his chest, she pulled in a breath that hitched and his arms got tighter.

“Emme,” he whispered.

“He was creepy because he’s creepy,” she told his chest, her head jerked back and she cried, “That boy shot himself because of stuff Dane’s involved in! And I slept with him!”

Deck was having great difficulty dealing with talking about this guy, knowing McFarland had her and had her recently.

For Emme, he pulled it together to keep dealing and lifted a hand to her hair.

He slid his fingers through it and murmured, “You sensed it, you were gonna end it. Now it’s all done, honey.”

She shook her head even as it drifted to the side, stammering, “I… I…” She looked back to him. “That’s gross, Jacob.”

“He’s a good-looking guy, Emme. Lots of women would go there. He’s a dick. He’s a criminal. He’s a liar. And I learned tonight he’s shit in bed. But none of that is on you. You felt it. You were making moves to end it.”

“You don’t think this reflects on me?” she asked.

“I don’t think you should care what people think,” he answered.

“I don’t care what people think. I’m asking you because I care what you think.”

That meant so much to him, his frame froze solid.

She was detached and had always been that way. Her cadre was small and tight and she didn’t often let people in.

But even if she let you in, even though she was warm and affectionate, it was strange, but she still somehow managed to be distant. Therefore, not always, but sometimes with Emme, you had to search for clues that something you said or did meant something. And since he told her where he was going to take them, he’d been searching. She gave it to him, but he’d also had to look for it.

Except when she told him she missed him, wanted the change in their relationship and, just now, telling him she gave a shit about what he thought.

“So, do you think this reflects on me?” she pushed, feeling the tenseness in his body, her eyes filling with concern she didn’t hide.

He forced his body to relax.

“I think you traded up and that works for me,” he answered and moved to conclude discussion about f*cking McFarland by saying with finality, “That’s what I think.”

She studied him a moment before her body melted against his and she smiled, the dimple appearing.

F*cking finally.

“Now can I eat my sandwich?” he asked on a grin.

“I saw the kaleidoscope by your bed,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

“Just now and when I spent the night before.”

“Yeah,” he repeated.

“I wasn’t a mark.”

Irritation flashed and he gave her a warning squeeze. “Emme, I told you—”

She cut him off, “Just my way of saying I’m sorry, honey. I should have thought about that before and known I was wrong. I just,” she shrugged, “got bad news, reacted and by that I mean flew off the handle. I’m sorry I put you to trouble and lost it with you.” Her head tipped and her eyes lit. “Though, maybe not so sorry, considering how that concluded.”

He’d been worried for hours.

He’d just had his girl, gave her her first orgasm during sex and now they were cool.

So he was over it.

Before he could tell her this, Emme rolled up on her toes, touched her mouth to his, pulled back and asked, “Now, do you take mayo or what?”

Deck looked into her now just inquisitive eyes a second before he burst out laughing.

After he was done, he saw her smiling at him, gave her brief kiss getting a hint of the strawberry of her hair as he did it and liking it. He set her away from him and grabbed the mayo in answer to her question.

He went to the sandwich.

She went out of the open kitchen and he watched her walk to her clothes on the couch.

Then he watched her pick them up and start heading toward his room, Buford following her.

“Emme, where you goin’?”

She turned and looked at him. “Getting dressed then going home.”

He stopped squirting mayo and felt his eyes narrow. “Babe, just put Cletus in the garage.”

“Sorry, right, you probably didn’t have to do that. And her name is Persephone.”

Deck ignored that and stated, “You’re spendin’ the night here.”

Her head tipped to the side. “Why? Dane’s behind bars so I’m safe to go home.”

Why?

“Emme, you’re not spendin’ the night here because I want you safe from McFarland. You’re spending the night here because I want you in my bed.”

Her body froze.

“Oh,” she mouthed as he saw her lips form the word but he didn’t hear it.

Cute.

Little experience and no man had even made her come.

It was up to him to get in there and teach her. Something he liked. Something he looked forward to.

Something he was starting now.

“Have you had dinner?” he asked.

“I was too angry to eat. I thought I would, well…” she threw out a hand, “get something when I got home.”

“You’re not goin’ home so get something here.”

She stood there unmoving before she said, “Okay,” and moved.


Buford followed her.

He probably liked the smell of strawberries too.

She dumped her clothes on the couch, made a sandwich and slid on a stool beside him at the bar.

He swallowed his bite, looked at her and asked gently, “Is my girl good?”

She had her sandwich to her mouth. She took it away, looked at him and replied, “Your girl’s good, honey.”

“Good,” he muttered, bent in, touched his mouth to hers before she took a bite and he went back to the remnants of his sandwich.