Officer Off Limits (8 page)

Chapter Ten

“Daniel, wake up!” Story grabbed on to Daniel’s sweat-slicked shoulders and shook him. “It’s okay, you’re just dreaming. Wake up and look at me.”

Startled into wakefulness by the sound of his tortured voice, she’d been briefly terrified before the events of the evening finally caught up with her. Realizing she must have fallen asleep waiting for Daniel to return, she felt momentary surprise that he’d decided to stay the night even though nothing had happened between them. After that, there’d been no time to think.

Daniel continued to mutter the name “Nora” over and over, growing increasingly agitated the longer his dream went on. The sheets twisted around his hips as he thrashed on the bed. Her heart threatened to break at the sight of him in such distress, and she immediately set her focus on breaking him free of the nightmare.

She released one of his shoulders and placed a cool hand on his cheek, repeating his name softly until his eyes eventually opened in the near-darkness. For long moments, he still seemed lost in the dream, until her fingers reached up to brush the hair from his forehead. His eyes seemed to go from unsettled to focused then, under her touch.

Satisfied that Daniel hurting himself was no longer a threat, she reached across his body and turned on the bedside lamp, bathing them in soft light. His bare chest rose and fell with shuddering breaths beneath her, reminding her they were both mostly naked. In the dark, with him half-asleep, it hadn’t mattered so much, but now in the light they could see every inch of each other. Nothing she hadn’t
shown
him just hours before, but an eight-martini buzz had gone a long way in curbing her modesty.

Blushing, she pushed off his chest with the intention of burying herself under the covers, but he grabbed her wrist to prevent her, his grip like steel. Story’s eyes shot to his, startled by the intense emotions swirling in them, his agonized gaze riveted on her face. He looked perilously close to the edge, the effects of the dream etched into his features. Every muscle in his chest and arms felt tight with strain against her body, as if his control could snap at any moment.

The instinct to soothe him rose within her, so powerful she stopped breathing.

Swallowing with difficulty, she tried to ignore the way their bodies were locked together, her breasts pressed against his chest. He needed comfort, and all she could think of was straddling his hips and riding out the frustration he’d stirred in her last night.

Daniel made no attempt to ignore their intimate position, however, his gaze lighting on everywhere their bodies touched. His breathing accelerated, only this time it couldn’t be attributed to his nightmare. Against her thigh, she felt his erection swelling larger and more demanding with each breath. No longer able to ignore the dizzying lust clouding the air between them, she gave in to the urge to press a kiss to his chest, then raised her head to look at him.

“Daniel?” Her voice sounded husky, unfamiliar. “What do you need?”

For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t respond. Then slowly, his hands sank into her hair, gripping the back of her head. “Again,” he said.

She took his one-word command as permission to kiss his chest again, loving the way it rose and fell faster and faster beneath her lips, encouraging her. She used her tongue to bathe his hot skin, then scraped her teeth over the damp flesh she left behind. Daniel’s shuddering groan told her he liked that. His hands guided her lower, toward his belly, but stopped her before she could reach the part of him obscured by the sheet. Her mouth hovered just over his rigid abdomen.

“Lick. I want to see your tongue on my stomach.”

Story was forced to press her thighs together to assuage the fierce throbbing his demand created, but she did as he asked. Her mouth moved over him, nipping and licking his stomach like she couldn’t get enough. And she couldn’t. He tasted like spicy hot male. After one taste, she craved it like a drug. Her tongue began tracing a path down, past his navel, but he stilled her progress and guided her upward instead. She made a sound of complaint.

“What’s wrong, gorgeous? You need a taste?”

“Yes,” she whispered shakily.

Daniel groaned, his hips tilting upward. “No. I can’t allow it yet. I haven’t worked hard enough for the privilege of your lips sliding down my cock.” With renewed determination, his hands urged her head higher until her quick exhales of breath landed on his chest once more. Heat pounding through her in waves, Story leaned close to kiss him again, when an imperfection on his otherwise flawless chest caught her attention. Raised, puckered flesh the size and shape of a quarter just above his right pectoral. A bullet wound?

As Story’s questioning eyes shot to his, Daniel froze beneath her. His expression grew shuttered, guarded. When he spoke, his voice sounded like it could cut glass. “Looks like you got stuck with damaged goods. Disappointed?”

She flinched, knowing he didn’t refer solely to his wound. That he’d been damaged in a different way, too. Had he been shot in the line of duty?

No, she instinctively knew there had to be more to the story. He wouldn’t be reacting this way otherwise. Mere seconds before, he’d lain before her so exposed. How quickly he’d built a wall between them. Too bad she was just as determined to tear it down.

“I’m relieved, actually. Perfect is boring.”

Daniel’s eyes widened, nostrils flaring. His hands flexed at the back of her head. Story finally gave in to her earlier urge and straddled his hips, a shaky sigh escaping her when the damp material of her panties slid over his straining erection. Beneath her, his chest heaved in anticipation, eyes crackling with heat as they devoured the sight of her naked breasts. Having a man like Daniel beneath her daunted and thrilled her at once. A sinfully beautiful male, aroused and ready, just waiting for her to make a move. It filled her with power. Heady, intoxicating power. She leaned down until her lips were a mere inch from his. Her hips swiveled against him once, twice, their groans mingling between them. “Do your worst.”

Before the words fully left her lips, Daniel sprang from his prone position, throwing her down on the mattress and bringing his weight down on top of hers. A string of chaotic thoughts raced through Story’s conscience before her panties were ripped from her body and his mouth opened over hers, tongue licking inside to kiss her greedily.

This is how he hides. The women. The sex. He’s hiding.

Seconds later, she’d been completely robbed of her senses, oblivious to anything but the feel of his hips wedged between her thighs, the only barrier a pair of cotton boxer-briefs he wore.

When Daniel pulled away, Story sucked air into her lungs, trying to regain some semblance of thought, but his mouth descended on her breasts and thwarted her efforts. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, then sucked the peak into his mouth, the vibration of his moan resonating through her. Looking down, she marveled at the ferocity in his expression. Until she saw him shirtless, his sheer size and strength hadn’t fully registered, but atop her smaller, more delicate frame, it occurred to her how much control he had of the situation. She’d put herself completely at his mercy. It thrilled and excited her.

His mouth trailed across her heated skin to her other breast, where he gently bit the underside, then blew against her nipple, watching hungrily as it puckered for his attention. He rewarded her by flicking his tongue against it in short little stabs until she dug her hands into his hair, demanding he cease his torture. Daniel complied by drawing the sensitive bud into his mouth, hands skimming down over her belly to cup her in his palm. She let her thighs fall open in wordless invitation. Anticipating her movement, he’d sunk two fingers inside her before her knees even reached the mattress.

Arching her hips, she moaned. She knew he’d found her wet, could feel the liquid warmth coating her core. Desperate to have Daniel inside her, she rolled her body, pushing her breasts closer to entice him.

He reached onto the nightstand and pulled a foil packet from a paper bag she hadn’t noticed before, and ripped it open with his teeth. “The first time I made you come in this room, I asked you how you wanted to be fucked. Do you remember that?”

His voice had deepened drastically since the last time he spoke, resonating with lust. After he rolled on the condom with one hand, he crooked the fingers of the other, still lodged inside of her, and rotated, finding a spot she hadn’t known existed and stroking it with his middle finger. Story’s hips came off the bed and she cried out, muscles tightening deep within her. A few more seconds of his expert touch and she would orgasm. But he stopped stroking the spot just before she peaked, laughing under his breath.

“We were interrupted before I got my answer. I’d like it now. How would you like me to fuck you?”

“Any way. Every way,” she breathed, her body’s demands leaving little room for thought.

His hand stilled completely and she made a sound of protest. “Be specific. I can make you cry and shake in any position, but I want you to choose.”

“Behind me. I wanted you behind me,” she heard herself say.

With a growl, Daniel flipped her onto her stomach and yanked her hips up into the air, so she rested on all fours facing the headboard. The foreign position increased her feeling of power despite its submissiveness. Imagining Daniel seeing her like this, naked and bent over for him, made a tremor of excitement race across her skin.

She felt his breath against her neck, his massive erection slipping through the dampness between her legs, gliding over her clitoris, teasing it. Starting at the base of her neck and ending just below her ear, his tongue licked her flesh, a hum of approval deep in his throat.

Then he spoke directly against her ear. “Are you ready to scream, gorgeous?”

With a single thrust of his hips, he buried himself deep inside her. She screamed his name, her hoarse cry mingling with Daniel’s shouted expletive. He didn’t stop to savor the moment, however, his hips angling upward and pounding into her in a demanding rhythm, sliding against her exactly where she needed it.

Daniel’s long fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, squeezing, kneading her without a hint of gentleness. “Push your hot ass up against me and take it deeper.” She arched her back to comply, whimpering when she felt herself stretching to accommodate his size. “What’s the matter, Story? Don’t you want me as deep as I can go?”

“Yes!”

“Say it, then, baby. Say ‘Daniel, please fuck me deep.’”

“Daniel…” She trailed off on a moan, wanting to say the words, but hesitating. She’d never spoken like that before. It would be wrong. It would be wonderful.

“Oh no. You wanted to be turned around and fucked like a bad girl. Now you’ll say the bad words that go along with it. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me deep,” she cried.

He drove into her with deeply satisfied growl. “Very good. Now you get more.”

His hand reached around to massage her swollen clitoris with perfect accuracy, building the pressure so quickly her mind could barely keep up with her body. Then he did something that made her mind drop out of the race completely. Gently, with the flat of all four fingers, he patted Story between her thighs, right over the bundle of nerves begging for satisfaction. It turned into a pattern. Thrust, pat, thrust, pat until her hips pumped wildly on his erection, racing toward release.

“You wouldn’t have fallen asleep if you knew what I had in store for you. Isn’t that right?”

Her answer ended in a whimper when he abruptly quit the pattern, circling his hips instead and holding the heel of his hand against her firmly, so that each thrust bombarded her from two sides. Her thighs began to shake as the orgasm closed in on her, turning her limbs into liquid. One arm she’d been using to support her body gave way beneath the force of Daniel driving into her.

He yanked her hips back up without pausing in his assault. “Hold on to the headboard if you can’t take it.”

His arrogant demand did nothing to decrease her need; it might have even wrenched it higher. Wrapping her fingers around the wrought iron bars, she pushed back against him, finding the right angle and keeping it, until finally the climax rolled through her, sending her body into concentrated spasms of pleasure.

“Christ, this is all there is. This is everything,” he grated before thrusting one final time into her. His teeth bit into her shoulder with a growl as he came.

It took a moment for her to recover, eventually returning to reality when his arms circled her, pulling her upright and back against his chest. Softly, he kissed her shoulder where his teeth had been moments before and pulled her closer. He exhaled on a shaky breath and reached over to turn off the lamp, then lay them down together side by side.

A multitude of thoughts raced through her mind, but she didn’t give voice to a single one of them. She wouldn’t have the faintest idea how to begin even if she wanted to. Tonight, she’d gone home with someone she thought was an expert player, but she’d woken up next to someone else entirely. Someone she hadn’t been anticipating. The connection she’d felt, the response he’d wrung from her…she hadn’t been prepared for the depth of it.

Comforted by Daniel’s surrounding heat, she’d already started drifting toward sleep when she heard him whisper against her damp neck.

“Belong to me, Story. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

Chapter Eleven

In a flash of panic, Story looked down to ascertain whether or not she’d remembered to dress herself this morning. Jean shorts, check. T-shirt, check. Ignoring the curious look sent her way from the nurse’s station, she turned down the hallway toward Jack’s room.

After walking the entire twelve blocks to Lenox Hill Hospital only to realize she didn’t remember one single detail about it, she counted herself lucky that she hadn’t been struck by a speeding cab or fallen down a manhole. She held a now-cold cup of coffee, of which she’d forgotten to take even one sip.

Scenes from the night before consumed her every thought, beginning with Daniel’s nightmare and ending with his whispered words in the darkness. And in between, a whole lot of “not safe for work” material that made her blush, even as a main participant. His mouth on her breasts, the forcefulness of his words, the
panty ripping
.

She
knew
that taking last night and filing it away, only to be thought of late at night, alone in a bubble bath, would be the smartest route to take. Maybe even confide in Hayden about her night with Daniel over a good bottle of wine. She should not,
should not
, want to do it again tonight and tomorrow and okay,
now!

Somehow she’d ended up in bed with the man mothers warn their daughters to stay away from. The kind of man fathers go after with a shotgun, their sobbing daughters trailing behind them in a wedding dress. She should have stayed away, because now that she knew what all the fuss was about, she would never be satisfied with anything less. He’d blindsided her, ruined her, and addicted her in one single evening.

Unfortunately, after drawing her in with seductive touches and blunt promises, he’d revealed a completely different man underneath. One she couldn’t categorize quite so easily. Someone harboring secrets. Pain. But she needed to view her connection to Daniel for what it was. A healthy sexual attraction being indulged in by two consenting adults. She couldn’t mistake sexual attraction, albeit a powerful one, for anything beyond a physical craving.

Pausing in the hallway before she reached Jack’s door, Story pressed her hands to her cheeks, certain that thoughts of Daniel had stained them bright red. It didn’t help matters that every step she took reminded her where he’d been, where he’d touched. The jean shorts and T-shirt she’d apparently chosen to wear today felt too tight against her sensitized skin. Getting hold of her rampant thoughts needed to happen immediately, before she walked into her father’s hospital room and blurted, “I had the most mind-blowing sex of my life—of
everyone’s
life—with your protégé last night. Three cheers for me! Oh, and how are you feeling?”

So
not the best way to greet your heart-attack-victim father.

This morning, she’d rolled over to find Daniel’s half of the bed empty, but full-blown panic mode was quickly averted when she’d looked on the bedside table to find a paper bag containing a box of condoms and a sleeve of peanut butter crackers, turning her insecure panic to laughter. Then, discovering a voice mail from him on her phone, she’d listened to it twice before even getting out of bed, his gravelly voice conjuring a delicious tug in her belly. And okay, maybe she’d listened to it three times instead of two.

Hey baby, I just left your place. I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked too pretty lying there… We have a training exercise all day in Jersey or else I’d still be in bed with you, gorgeous. You know that, right? I wouldn’t disappear like that without a reason. Not with you. I’ll talk to you soon… And the next time you fall asleep on me, you’ll wake up to find me licking those tan lines. That’s a promise, Story.

Despite the shiver of pleasure she got from Daniel’s gruff message, she’d felt a flicker of alarm over his words. He was already planning on a next time. God knows she wanted that, too, but where did it lead? Only days since her breakup, she’d barely gotten her head back on straight. For all she knew, her overwhelming craving for Daniel stemmed from the need for closure after Fisher kicked her to the curb.

God, the more she thought about this, the better a stiff drink sounded. At least her thoughts had made the blush flee her cheeks and she could now enter Jack’s room without worrying about last night showing on her face. She pushed off the wall and rounded the doorway into Jack’s room.

Seeing her enter, he turned off the miniature television suspended over the bed and tossed the remote onto the table. “Story.” He smiled broadly. “You look well today.”

“Uh, thanks!”
Don’t vomit. “
So do you. Although I’m told you’re still refusing to eat the hospital food. You know, there’s not always going to be a uniformed officer around to do your dirty work, bringing you corned beef sandwiches on the sly.”

“What? Who told you that?” He looked the picture of innocence.

She dropped into a chair and crossed her legs. “One of the nurses.”

“Which one? The cute one with the glasses?”

Story raised her eyebrows in response.

“I can’t believe she sold me out. I thought we had an understanding.”

“She
understands
you need to change your diet and get healthy or they won’t clear you to return to work.”

“I don’t need them to clear me.” Grumbling, he pushed himself up on the bed. “Hell, most of the time I’m talking into a headset, anyway. Not a lot of strenuous physical activity involved there.”

“Keywords being ‘most of the time.’ I seem to recall three years ago, you got close enough to a perpetrator that you dropped said headset and wrestled him to the ground. Jog any memories?”

Jack looked at her in silence for a moment. “Sure, I remember. Ex-Army Ranger suffering from PTSD barricaded himself inside a church in Staten Island. The question is, how do you know about it? I doubt it made the news in San Diego.”

Actually
, she’d been following Jack’s career most of her life. In addition to writing a best-selling memoir about life as an NYPD hostage negotiator, which she’d read cover to cover, not a month went by that he wasn’t mentioned somewhere in the news. Oftentimes, it felt as though technology was the glue holding her relationship with her father together. No need to fill him in on that minor detail, however. She forced herself to nod. “I might have checked in on you once or twice. You know, we have this fancy new invention called the Internet. Makes it pretty easy.”

Jack snorted a laugh, looking down at his hands. “I might not have been around while you grew up, but I sure managed to pass on the smart-ass gene.” He turned serious then, somber eyes meeting hers across the room. “I’m sorry. About the way things worked out.”

Uncomfortable with his apology, she stood and paced to the window. She hadn’t intended to have this conversation, but now that it seemed unavoidable, she needed to give voice to the question that had always haunted her.

“Why did you stop coming to visit?”

Having been so young when her parents got divorced, she barely recalled the time they’d lived together in one house, as a family. When she’d grown slightly older, she could remember Jack flying to California once a year, usually around her birthday. He would take her to the beach, buy her something, ask about school. She’d looked forward to it with joyful anticipation. Then one year, he’d stopped coming. Lynette explained countless times how busy Jack was in New York and she’d tried to be happy with his phone calls on Christmas, but she always wondered if she’d caused his absence.

Jack blew out a breath. “Well, Story. I honestly don’t have a good enough answer for you. Not that I haven’t had ample time to prepare one.” He lifted a hand and let it fall. “You were so young. Every time I came and left, it confused you further. Once I missed one year, it just never felt right going back.”

“I would have understood eventually.” Story still didn’t face him. “And a few more phone calls or e-mails per year wouldn’t have hurt either.”

“I know that and I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve tried to be involved…in other ways.”

“I guess I should thank you for the money you sent,” she said, feeling kind of numb. “I don’t think I have before.”

“Jesus, you don’t have to thank me. I was happy to do it.” His tone of voice made her turn from the window. “Your mother and I might not have worked out, but I would marry her all over again, deal with all the arguments, to get you. I just want you to know that.”

Her throat tightened. “Thanks, Dad.”

Jack cleared his throat, signaling an end to the conversation, and she felt grateful. Her emotions were on a permanent roller coaster today and it was time to get off.

“So how did you spend your night last night?”

Roller coaster stalled, hanging upside down.
“Uh, my friend Hayden and I went out for drinks, did some karaoke at Quincy’s like you recommended. Nothing crazy.”

“Karaoke.” Jack cringed. “What a godawful pastime.”

Story laughed, glad the mood had shifted back to normal. “See, right now in the light of day, I can agree with you. But last night after a few drinks, it represented immortality.”

Jack adjusted the sensor clamped to his finger. “And what was the crowd like?”

“Oh…er,” she stammered. “Women. Tons of women.”
I sound like a jackass
.

“How unusual for Quincy’s.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. Maybe someday you can introduce me to Hayden.”

“Sure.” She walked to Jack’s bedside, picked up the pitcher full of water, and poured some into a plastic cup. “But I’m warning you, she’ll want to be fixed up with one of your officers.”

“I’m sure we can manage that. Maybe Daniel Chase? I’m told he’s reasonably attractive.”

Story choked on the sip of water she’d just taken, a decent amount trickling out of her nose.

Jack sat up in concern. “Hey. Are you all right?”

She nodded, holding up a finger as she coughed. “Fine.”
Hack, hack.
“I’m good.” Jack reclined once more, watching her suspiciously as she crossed the room and sat back in the chair. “So, um, what’s it like working with Daniel? Is he good at working?”

Oh, real smooth, you silver-tongued devil.

“He’s the best. Besides me, of course.” Jack grinned. “I found him in a negotiation class. He already had the aptitude required for the job and I suppose his past is what gives him the drive.”

Story frowned. “His past?”

Her father looked suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s not really my business to tell.”

“Tell me,” she said, unable to help it.

“I trust you’ll be discreet.”

She nodded mutely.

“Daniel was a foster kid. His mother couldn’t take care of him so he became property of the state very young. He moved around a lot between foster homes.” Jack turned to stare out the window. “When he was sixteen, he witnessed the murder of a foster parent by his foster sister. He tried to talk her down and was shot for his efforts.” Jack paused for a wheezing breath. “Not everything is a matter of record, but from what little he told me, she was an abuse victim who suffered a mental break. He did succeed, at least, in getting her to release three other children being held in the room.” He thought for a moment. “Most people find hostage negotiation as a career, but in Daniel’s case, I’d say it found him.”

Story nearly burst into tears. What a horrific thing for a young boy to experience on top of being alone, without a family to claim him. Is that what his nightmare had been about last night? If so, how often did he have them? The pain mixed with alarm in his eyes when she’d succeeded in waking him now hurt to think about. Minutes ago, she’d thrown herself a pity party over Jack’s absence in her life. Now, knowing what Daniel had gone through made her feel selfish. She’d had a loving mother and advantages while he’d been given nothing.

“Oh, God.” She looked up to find Jack watching her closely. “What a horrible thing for him to go through so young.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah. I wouldn’t feel too bad for him, though. He’s just another jackass with a badge now.”

Story shot to her feet, feeling righteously indignant on Daniel’s behalf. “How can you say that? After everything you just told me he went through, look what he’s accomplished. He’s much more than that.”

Her father shrugged his big shoulders. “If you say so.”

“What…what was her name? The foster sister.” The words felt like they were being squeezed out of her throat.

Jack arched a blond brow at the odd question, but answered. “Nora, I believe.”

Oh, Daniel.
She stood abruptly, in desperate need of something to do. “I forgot your coffee. I’m going to go grab us both a cup.”

“Extra sugar!” Jack hollered at her as she strode down the hall.

…

“You’re fucking late, Chase. Not all of us got laid last night, so I’m not exactly in the mood to wait for your pretty-boy ass,” Brent yelled out the window as Daniel jogged across the street toward his friend’s waiting car.

Daniel tossed his duffel bag into the trunk, closed it, and slid into the backseat. Meeting Brent’s eyes in the rearview mirror, he raised an impatient eyebrow. “We’ve still got plenty of time to make it, unless you feel the need to run your mouth some more.”

Brent shot a puzzled glance at Matt where he sat in the passenger seat. “You’re acting awfully surly after the night you must have had, my friend. Us two assholes went home alone.”

Daniel remained quiet, prompting Brent to turn around in his seat, his face a mask of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t close that deal last night.”

His face turned to stone. “You don’t discuss her like that. She’s not a deal to close.”

With a slow whistle, Brent turned around and started the car. “Relax. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, man. Sorry. I’ve just got a lot of shit on my mind.”

“Like what?” Matt asked.

Daniel’s hand dropped. “Hell if I know. This girl…she’s got me all…” He waved his hand around impatiently.

He watched Brent’s eyebrows shoot up in the rearview mirror. “Shit, she was that good?”