Uncuffed Page 6

  The moment I reach the town’s limits, memories flood me that cause my breath to catch. The last time I was here I’d had to clear out my brother’s house and sell it. He never settled down, much like myself. It was about two years ago. Two years since I had to say goodbye to him. Two years since he was buried in the ground beside our father. With every mile I drive, another memory slams into me that I buried long ago. Then another. Too many to count. As I turn down Hope’s street, I wonder if my brother drove this same route to deliver the news to her. Telling family they’ve lost a loved one is never an easy task. It’s something that stays with you all your life.

  I reach her house and pull in the driveway. I thought about parking around the corner, so she wouldn’t see me coming, but fuck it. I’m here, and I’m blocking the only car in the driveway. The outside of the house is well-maintained: the grass cut short, shrubs trimmed. The house is an older, brick ranch.

  Walking around the front, I stop when I reach the door and ring the doorbell. The door swings inward, confirming for certain that Ashlyn is Hope. I had wondered if it was just coincidental. Hoped is more like it. That maybe this woman I was getting to know wasn’t lying to me. Wasn’t pretending to be someone she’s not.

  The moment her eyes land on mine, she gasps and steps back. “Wh…what are you doing here?”

  I hadn’t thought about what I was going to say. And now that I’m here, anger laces my words. “Why did you lie to me?”

  “I didn’t…”

  “Don’t! I’m a fucking detective, Hope! I know Ashlyn isn’t your real name!” She stumbles back, her eyes wide. My voice is getting louder and louder with each word I say. “I know you don’t live in the city and that you were paying your rent one month at a time! What the hell are you doing? Why the fake name?”

  Unshed tears fill her eyes, but then something else takes over. Resolve. She straightens her back and balls her hands by her side. “I don’t have to tell you shit,” she says angrily. “I don’t owe you any explanation. Sure, we had sex, and I slept in your bed. Big fucking deal! You aren’t the first man I’ve been with and won’t be the last.” She tries to slam the door in my face, but I hold my arm out to stop it.

  I step through the doorway and continue forward until I’m backing her against the wall. My face is in hers. Trepidation is mixing with her anger. “Don’t talk about sleeping with other men in my presence.”

  “Why? I’m not yours, Rowe!”

  “Not fucking yet, but you will be.”

  My rage at her lying to me has quickly switched to her needing to be mine. All I can think about is how I don’t want any other man touching her. No one else feeling her curves or sucking those gorgeous nipples of hers into their mouths. I sure as fuck don’t want any other guy’s dick in her. Hell, no. Only me.

  “Where do you get off coming into my home and acting like I owe you anything? Screw you! Get out!”

  “The fuck I will.”

  “Fine. I’ll call the cops.”

  I laugh loudly. “Go right ahead, darlin’. When they get here, I’ll be sure to tell them about your other identity, and then they can work with my department and see what else we can find you’ve been hiding.”

  Her lips part as she sucks in a sharp breath. “You wouldn’t.”

  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do where you’re concerned. You either tell me everything or I’m camping out here until you do.” She shoulders me away. I let her. I’ve made my point. Now it’s time to see what she has to say for herself.

  “No one knows everything,” she states with her back to me, her voice losing the abrasive tone.

  She’s standing in the middle of the living room, amid furniture that doesn’t look like it’s been updated in twenty years. In fact, nothing in this house that I’ve seen so far appears current. Has she not changed anything since her parents died?

  “Tell me about your parents,” I say evenly.

  She turns. “How did you know?”

  “How did I know? I’m a detective. I have access to stuff normal people don’t. Plus, once I found out your real name, I searched you on the Internet, and the article about your parent’s death came up. Then I put the pieces together and figured out that my brother was the one who came to your door and told you what happened.” Empathy is clear in my voice. “I’m sorry that happened. I lost family, too. It’s not easy, and it changes you.”

  “That picture of your brother…” A tear falls down her cheek. I take a step forward, but then she takes one back. “I can’t believe it was him all those years ago. I was only nineteen. I didn’t know what to do or how to live without them. I was numb, though. Numb everywhere. People talked to me, tried to help, but I didn’t hear them. All I could think about was how my parents were here one minute and gone the next.”

  Chapter Nine

  Hope

  “Numb is normal,” he tells me.

  “Maybe, but for how long? I didn’t feel anything. Pain, heartache, exhaustion. Nothing. Then one day, when I was starving, with no food left, no money, and my stomach in cramps, I felt. I felt what it was to be truly hungry.”

  “You had no money? Your parents didn’t leave you anything?” His voice is curious, not like he’s taking mental notes of everything I’m saying and judging me. He genuinely wants to know what happened, and I’ve been holding it in for so long. It’s nice to talk to someone, even if I can’t tell him everything.

  “They did, and I spent what there was.”

  “How did you get food then?”

  “I robbed a convenience store.”

  “Hope…”

  “I know, you’re a cop and what I’m telling you is admitting to a crime. But I need you to understand. I’m not a good person. I did things I can’t take back. Not just this, but other things. Ones I won’t speak of.”

  “You were starving and desperate. Those two things would make you do something you normally wouldn’t.”

  “So that explains one time, what about everything else I’ve done? There is still so much you don’t know. You can’t make excuses for my entire life. You can’t stand here and justify every wrong I’ve committed.”

  “I don’t need to know everything. Only what you’re willing to tell me.”

  I scoff. “So you can haul me off to jail?”

  He holds out his hands. “Do you see cuffs? Do I look like I’m ready to arrest you?”

  “You can’t ignore what I’ve told you. You should take me in and file charges.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Then you’re as guilty as I am, and I can’t stand here and let you into this life I lead.”

  “I already forgot what you said. My memory isn’t the best.” He offers a sad smile.

  I cast my gaze down to my feet. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

  “Do you have money now?”

  “My parents didn’t let me have all the money upon their death. It was split in half. Half, I got when they passed. The other half, I got when I hit the age of thirty. So, yes, I’m fine. My parents were doctors. They were well off. The house is paid for. The other house as well.” Shit. Why did I mention the second house? Fuck it. If he dug, he’d find it. He doesn’t need to know I still steal and that even though I am thirty now, I haven’t touched that money. The high from stealing is too great to let go of. I’m an addict but of a different sort than alcoholics or those hooked on drugs. We all are chasing something, sure. A high, to feel nothing. In the end, all addicts have one thing in common—they crave their next fix.

  “Then why the fake identity?”

  I shrug. “Why not? Didn’t you ever want to live another life? One where no one knew you and you could escape?”

  “No, but I grew up knowing I wanted to be just like my father. It would be a dishonor to his memory if I pretended to be someone I wasn’t.”

  I walk toward him and notice how his eyes are drawn to my hips. When I am directly before him, I place my hand on his chest. He reaches up to hold my palm
there. Our eyes meet. “This is why it wouldn’t work between us. We’re not the same. Not even close. You uphold the law, and I’ve been on the wrong side of it. We lead two different lives.”

  “What if I wanted to lead my life with you?”

  “You’ve only known me for a few days. It’s lust you’re feeling—nothing more. I’m not the kind of girl you settle down with or bring home and show off.”

  “I already have. I brought you to my town and staked my claim over you in front of anyone who was nearby. I’ve never brought a woman around there. Not on a date.”

  “You’re a good man, Rowe Falk. This can’t continue, though. Nothing good will come from it. You should go. It’s a long drive back.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving. Let me stay the night. Just one night.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. One night will make me want him even more. One more night with him and I could lose my heart, and I’ve never lost it to anyone. The man standing before me is everything that’s good in the world. He is out there every day fighting for his community—defending them against people like me. When it boils down to it, I’m a thief and nothing more. I’m the scum on the side of the streets he patrols.

  “No,” I whisper. “I can’t.”

  “I’m not leaving, Hope. This is where I want to be.”

  I open my eyes, unable to hide the emotion which I’m sure is visible in them. “And what happens after that? When you go back home? Where does that leave me?” Why am I entertaining this? I know why. Because I’ve been on my own for so long, it’s nice to have someone warm and caring who wants to be with me. Not Ashlyn, not Riele—Hope. And not because it’s an obligation like I’m some charity case.

  “You can come with me. Stay with me.”

  I laugh sadly. “There’s no way that will work.”

  “We’ll do it together. I’ll be there for anything you need.”

  I slowly pull my hand from his grasp and take a few steps back, no longer able to keep the tears at bay. “There is no us,” I cry. “We’re not together.”

  He walks toward me and, with every step he takes, I retreat. We continue to do this until the back of my legs hit the recliner and I fall back onto it. Rowe drops to the ground before me and braces his hands on either armrest, caging me in.

  “I’m not ready to let you go, Hope. Stop fighting me.”

  Shaking my head, I close my eyes again. I can’t bear to look at him. Then he grips the back of my neck and pulls me into a heated kiss. I try to resist the temptation to melt into him, but it’s futile. Right now, when he’s over me, the world ceases to exist. It’s only us and his lips on mine. My body reacts to his like a magnet.

  While his lips work my mouth, his hands descend on the front of my jeans to undo them. Never breaking our kiss, he nudges me to lift my ass so he can slide my jeans and panties down my legs. When I’m bare from the waist below, he leans back to look me over.

  “You’re stunning,” he murmurs.

  He reaches forward, lightly brushing the backs of his fingers down my hip to my toes, then moves them up the inside of my leg. Once he reaches my center, he lightly traces his finger over my clit then down to dip inside of me. I moan low when he curls his finger forward, stroking me just right. Pushing myself into his hand, he inserts another finger and begins to slowly fuck me with them. With his free hand, he caresses my breast through my shirt and bra, teasing me, amping up my desire. My fingers grip the armrests hard, and my legs tense as he builds me toward orgasm faster than anyone ever has.

  I lift my shirt from my body and unclasp my bra, dragging it down my arms and tossing it to the floor. I want his hands and mouth on my skin; nothing between us. His lips kiss a path from my collarbone to my nipple. I cry out as he gently drags his teeth over my taut peak. Rowe pulls back to shed his clothing. When he’s on his feet in front of me, his jeans and boxer briefs on the floor, I reach forward and grip his dick in my hand. God, he’s impressive. Muscular thighs and a thick, long cock. I stroke him up and down a few times, collecting the precum from the tip with my thumb and rubbing it over the head. Then I slide toward him and capture him in my mouth. Strong hands immediately go to the back of my head as I work him over. Every time I withdraw, he thrusts back in. There’s something very sensual about him fucking my mouth. Every movement, every glide of my tongue on the underside of him, is causing the fire in my veins to blaze hotter. My nails rake the underside of his balls. He shivers and tries to nudge me away. I shake my head with him still in my mouth.

  “Darlin’, you have to let me go, or I’m going to end this before I’ve had a chance to be back in that beautiful pussy of yours.”

  He takes my hands in his, lifting me up, pulling me from what I was enjoying. With our eyes locked, he switches our positions and sits, bringing me with him. My legs straddle his waist; my hands find his shoulders to hold me in place, his dick trapped between our bodies. I’m slick against him, rubbing myself up and down.

  “I need to be inside you,” he murmurs with his lips pressed to my neck. “Do you have a condom?”

  “We don’t need one. I’m on the pill. I want to feel everything. Every slide of you, every delicious inch. I want you to drive me higher than I’ve ever been.”

  I’ve never slept with anyone without a condom. Ever. But Rowe is different. He knows some of my bad and still wants me. Though, there’s a small voice in my head warning me that this could all be for show. That after he fucks me, he’s going to arrest me. It’s his way of getting close to me so I’ll let my guard down and confess more.

  He doesn’t know which store I robbed or the date, but he could easily press me for a confession. At this moment, however, I want him. I don’t want to think about the bullshit I live with every day: the people I’ve stolen from, the money I’ve made. I want to feel that high from something other than stealing. Even if he arrests me when we’re done, it will be worth it for this moment in time with him.

  He pulls back to look me in the eyes. “Are you sure?” I nod. “You slay me, darlin’.”

  Fisting his dick, he holds it up so I can lower myself onto him. I take my time sliding down, enjoying the pleasure of having him inside me with nothing between us. It’s better than I could have imagined. So hot, so wet, and we fit perfectly. When I’m fully seated on him, I take a moment to absorb everything. My fingers thread through the hair on the top of his head to draw his lips up toward me. The kiss starts off slow, like we’re both savoring each sweep of our tongues. But it quickly escalates, and we devour one another.

  His hands find my hips and I grind onto him, but I need more. I need it faster—harder. Lifting my body, I go as far as I can without him leaving me, then slam back down. I repeat this over and over, until my body is slick with sweat and my breath is coming in fast pants.

  “You have to come, darlin’. I can’t hold off much longer,” he rasps. I’m so close, but need more to push me over the edge. I reach down and start rubbing my clit in quick strokes. Within seconds, I’m flying over the edge, my body trembling as my climax takes hold.

  Rowe’s fingers dig in to my hips, moving me how he wants. Faster, rougher, then he grips me hard and calls out my name—my real name—as he comes.

  Chapter Ten

  Rowe

  For the second night in a row, I’m lying in bed wide-awake, but this time it’s not in my house. I’m in Hope’s bed. Correction, I did sleep for a bit, but now I’m lying here while my mind spins, as the sun’s rays start to lighten the room.

  I still can’t wrap my head around everything that happened. Her real name, her real address, details of her past, how she met my brother, and under the circumstances in which she did so—it’s all crazy.

  She stirs beside me, which is good. I have to make the drive back home soon and want her to come with me. I’m not sure if she will, but it’s worth a shot.

  I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her back to my chest, inhaling her sweet scent. “Morning, darlin’.”

&nbs
p; “What time is it?” she mumbles sleepily.

  “Five-thirty.”

  “Why the hell are you awake?”

  “I have work today. I need to leave soon.”

  “Can’t you call in sick or something?”

  “Too much to do. Crime happens, and I need to be there to solve it.” She tenses in my arms. “I wasn’t referring to you. I told you, I don’t even remember what you said.” I lie for both of our benefits. I’m not a stupid man. Getting wrapped up in her isn’t one of the smartest things I’ve ever done, but since when do matters of the heart make you think logically?

  She starts to sit up, but I hold her in place. “Let me up.”

  “I meant it. What happened in your past isn’t my concern. You’re here with me now, and that’s what matters.”

  “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew everything.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe it’s better this way.”

  She finally breaks free. “It’s not.” Then she’s off into the bathroom.

  I dress and sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to appear. She’s still naked when the door opens. I could devour her on the spot, but I need to stress to her there’s more I want from her than sex. Once she’s dressed, I reach for her arm as she walks past me and bring her down to my lap. “Come home with me.”

  “No,” she says adamantly.

  “One time. Tomorrow, I’ll bring you back home. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

  “I told you this wasn’t a good idea. We shouldn’t be together. Last night was a mistake.”

  “Do you really believe that?” I know she doesn’t, but I need to hear it. Last night was amazing.

  “I believe it’s better if we don’t see each other anymore.”

  “Better for who? Because it’s not me. In fact, it would be worse for me if we didn’t see one another. I want you. Not just your body. I want you with me.”