ARRESTED: A Stepbrother Cop Romance Read online

  I hear the words coming out of her mouth but I don’t know how to reply. I run my fingers through my hair, frustrated. How can I tell her I haven’t stopped thinking about her for the past two months? How can I tell her I her that I want more of what we shared together, not as a friend or as some pseudo-relation? I know she’s still recovering from her ordeal and telling her that I missed her might driver her back to a dark place. I have no idea how she feels about relationships now. Has she linked what happened with Drew to what happened between us? Does she associate me with the terror of that day? I don’t ever want her to go back to that place again, emotionally.

  Instead of confessing, I nod and lean back in the seat. “You didn’t seduce me, Allyson. I was there with you every step of the way. If anything, I feel guilty that I didn’t realize what you were going through. I feel guilty thinking that maybe what we did made you feel worse.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Just know that I’ll always be there for you. Whatever happens. Whatever you need. You know that, right?”

  She nods, almost thoughtfully and the limo returns to awkward-silence-mode as it cruises through the streets toward the reception hall. I wish that she’d tell me another of her ridiculous cop jokes, anything to make me feel that we still have a connection. When the car pulls up, the driver opens the back door before I can. He helps Allyson out then I step out after her.

  We walk into the hall together, the music from a DJ booming already. Pre-dinner music to keep the guests occupied until they’re fed. We find our way to the head table, but we’re sitting on either side of our parents so I don’t get to talk to Allyson at all. When the speeches are done and the newlywed couple kisses I catch her eyes and she smiles warmly.

  As dinner wears on I notice how many times Allyson’s wine glass is filled. The beaming smile is back and when a funky beat pulses through the speakers she jumps out of her chair and practically runs to the dance floor.

  At first, she’s out there alone among a crowd of other guests, happily dancing by herself. The more her hips swivel in time to the music the more I notice other men watching her. One of my dad’s friends sidles up to her and dances beside her. He’s respectful at first, maintaining an appropriate distance but when the song changes, so does my dad’s friend. Now he’s swiveling his hips in time to hers, his hands are on her hips. Anger pulses through me as I watch him.

  She stumbles, covers her mouth with one hand as she laughs and uses the other hand to grab onto the guy’s arm to steady herself. My dad’s friend grins at her and puts his arm around her waist. What the fuck does he think he’s doing? He’s old enough to be her father and this is a wedding, not a nightclub.

  I stand quickly, ignoring the glances from the others at the table, and march to the dance floor. The guy is pulling her in close to whisper something in her ear. Allyson giggles and swats his arm. I can see by her movements that she’s had too much to drink. By the time I reach her, dad’s friend is about to whisk her away on the dance floor. I grab her hand.

  “Hey,” the guy says.

  “I’m cutting in. Best man, maid of honor.” I point to myself and then at Allyson hoping he’ll get the message and back off.

  He holds his hands up in the air and smiles. “Sure, Cory. Whatever you say.” When he backs off I’m filled with a surge of relief so strong it hits me in the gut.

  “What’s that all about?” Allyson asks, resting her hand on my chest. She’s wasted and cute but I can’t leave her out here so vulnerable.

  I pull her away from the dance floor and she follows me without question. When we get close to the bar she slows down and looks over but I tug gently and we continue out of the hall, through the lobby and to the gardens in the back.

  We have some talking to do.

  22

  ALLYSON

  I follow Cory out to the garden. Not that I have a choice. His hand grips mine firmly but I’m happy to finally be touching him again. The air in the garden is warm, heavy with the perfume of the flowers, and I take a deep breath enjoying the play of fragrance and the soft evening breeze. Lights dotted through the bushes illuminate the greenery and help mark the path. Despite the warmth of the evening, I shiver. It’s been months since I felt Cory’s big strong hands on me and watching his broad shoulders and the purposeful way he moves along the path reminds me of the night I watched him walk back to his cruiser.

  I wonder where he’s taking me but instead of protesting I decide to let it play out. What he said in the car, about how he’ll always be there for me really touched me. And the way he blushed, high on his cheeks, melted my heart. Since the incident, I’ve tried my hardest to isolate myself. I needed time to deal with the fear and the hurt, the terrible betrayal and the lingering sense of hopelessness. It’s taken therapy and lots of time with my mom for me to work through what happened to me and why I made the choices I did. I understand myself a whole lot better and I don’t blame myself now for what happened with Drew. He took things too far. It was him who has problems. Sex isn’t shameful. I feel at peace about that.

  When we’re around the side of the building deep into another section of the garden and out of sight from the rest of the guests, Cory stops and lets my hand go. There are no benches in this part of the garden so we stand to face each other and I wait for him to talk, wondering what he’s going to say that he didn’t already get off his chest in the limo.

  I sweep my gaze over his face and stop at his eyes. Fierce passion stares back at me. I remember that look from the time we spent together in my room, and from the first night we met at the side of the road. Half of me is willing him to gather me in his arms and lavish me with kisses, and the other half wants to put my hands on his chest so I can keep him at arm’s length. Although I feel a lot better, I’m not sure I’m ready to be making big decisions, and something about the way Cory is looking at me feels serious and weighty.

  Instead, he turns away from me, rubbing his hand over his face in a way that screams frustration. I may be tipsy but I recognize the signs of an impending conversation that has the potential to not go well. I don’t want there to be tension between us.

  Silence hangs in the air. I don’t want to push him but he obviously had a reason for dragging me out of the hall. I wait a little longer but he still seems to be warring with himself.

  “What are we doing out here, Cory?” I ask when I can’t take the tension any longer. He turns, and puts his hands in his pockets, looking a little lost.

  “I thought you needed some air.”

  He’s probably right. I know I’ve had too much to drink but I wanted to have a good time, for my mom’s sake as well as my own.

  The air begins to clear my alcohol-induced fog and I eye him more carefully now. His jaw is clenched and I can bet that muscle was twitching earlier when I was dancing with that middle-aged guy. I can’t even remember his name. Did he even tell me? I remember the look on Cory’s face when he arrived on the dance floor and grabbed my hand. He shot daggers at the guy who was quick to dance away.

  We watch each other and I feel naked as though he can see all over me and I can’t conceal what and who I am no matter how much I might want to. I sigh and turn away from him. That old worry is back. The one that tells me that no one who has seen the pictures or heard about what happened to me can ever see past that. I’m forever going to be the girl whose photos are on the internet. The damaged one who was kidnapped. I can’t handle the way he’s staring at me so I turn to face the garden, focusing on the moths that dark around the lights on the side of the building. I know how they feel. Sometimes I feel like a moth. I’m too easily dazzled by charming men. Like the moth, I fly trustingly forward, then crash and burn.

  I take a deep breath and turn to face him again. We have to have the conversation. We have to face the demons still crowding us. I just don’t know if we’re ever going to get past them.

  Will he leave now that he’s rescued me again?

  Communication works both ways.
In those two months, he could have reached out to me too. But I know he’ll say he was giving me space, time to heal. How can I be angry at that?

  “How are you?” he says quietly. “I mean really, how are you? Not the bullshit answer you’d give the woman at the supermarket. The real answer.”

  I turn away from him again not wanting him to see that I am still affected by the events. Every time I think about it, my heart races, my palms sweat and panic closes in on me until I feel I can’t breathe. I am so much better but it’s all still there, waiting behind my thin veneer of normality, to press back in and make me anxious.

  Cory steps closer to me and the air between us gets warmer as though his body heat is seeping into me to chase the chill of memories away. He cups my cheek and turns my face toward him.

  “I’m better,” I whisper. “But it still hurts to remember. I don’t know if that will ever stop.”

  “I wanted to kill him,” Cory says. “I still do. It took every ounce of restraint I had to care for you and let another officer take him away.”

  Shocked at his statement I blink and stare as his eyes search my face. There’s pain in his expression, real pain. “Why didn’t you call me after I came to your house to visit?” he asks.

  I’d wanted to. Even though he didn’t stay long, I knew he’d come by. But the truth is that even though I’d wanted to, I hadn’t been ready to see anyone, least of all him. “I told you,” I say looking away from him.

  “I know what you said.”

  I sigh and my shoulders slump forward. I shake my head. “I couldn’t face you. After you saw the photos. I felt so ashamed of everything. What I’d done to make Drew so awful. The things I’d made you do too. I couldn’t bear to see the disgust on your face.”

  I try to turn away again but he gently encircles my arms with his strong hands and holds me in place. Forced to stare at him or the ground I choose the ground. I can’t face him, knowing he’ll see the rawness of emotion in my eyes.

  “What are you talking about?” he asks quietly.

  I shrug out of his hands and he lets me go. I walk a few paces away from him, thinking it will be easier to talk about it if I’m not looking at him. Seeing those eyes staring back at me makes it almost impossible.

  “I saw the way you looked at me at the station when you saw the pictures.”

  I feel Cory standing right behind me. He takes my wrist as I try to walk away again. We both look down at his hand, remembering another time and another man who did the same thing with so much venom. Cory releases me and yanks his hand away as though he’s afraid he’s hurt me. I can feel how much he doesn’t want to step into Drew’s shoes and how much he doesn’t want to hurt me and it makes me feel so much more for this man who has to deal with the most brutal of society but can still treat me gently and with great kindness.

  Cory could never be like Drew. I know this. Even when he’s rough, he’s kind. Even when he wanted to be in control, he was always looking for my consent, and always seeking my pleasure before his own. I grab his hand and wrap it around my wrist again with a little nod, needing him to understand that I know him. He’s nothing like Drew.

  He cups my face and stares into my eyes. “I would never think badly of you for what happened.”

  “But, the pictures,” I say.

  “But nothing. Drew was a sick man who took advantage of your trust. He abused the power he had over you and twisted something that you enjoyed into a weapon. I know after something like that it will take time for you to trust again. But you need to understand that nothing that you did, nothing that happened would ever make me think lesser of you.”

  I nod, lost in the soothing sound of his voice and the words that I hadn’t realized that I needed to hear. The heat spreading from his hand into my wrist is like pure energy pulsing between us. It brings back memories of the moments before we kissed; static electricity that needs to be released.

  He’s right about trust. When it is lost it is hard to find again. Wounds to a person’s faith in other human beings are a terrible thing to bear. He’s wrong about how I feel about him, though. Even with my hands cuffed behind my back I trusted him. Trusted him to give me pleasure, to take pleasure, but to not hurt me.

  “Trust does take time,” I say.

  “I would never do something like that to you, Allyson.”

  “I know.”

  His hand still grips my wrist. His other hand cups my face. I peer at his lips, remembering how they felt on mine. I feel his breath gust softly against my cheek. He’s hesitating so much that I can almost feel him vibrating.

  I move closer to him until our bodies are just about touching. I smile, tilt my head, but before I can lean in Cory groans deep in his throat and captures my lips in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth dancing with mine. He tastes of red wine and sorrow. Behind all the physical fierceness I can feel the powerlessness he felt at being unable to find me for so many hours. A shiver races through me and I wrap my arms around him, clutching him for support and to let him know that I understand. I get it. He needed to protect me and he couldn’t.

  My eyes flutter closed and the garden melts away. I savor the flick of his tongue over mine, the light sweep of his lips that turn hungry and devouring. It’s as though he’s been waiting for this kiss for years.

  Maybe I have too.

  When we’re in our teens we get told by our parents and teachers to be sensible, find a partner and be monogamous to be safe. We so desperately hope that the person we have chosen to be with will care for us both physically and emotionally. Our heart gets involved whether we want it to or not.

  I followed the advice, but somehow it didn’t work out in the way everyone claimed it would, until now.

  My psychologist told me that it is quite normal for girls to replicate the mistakes of their mothers. We learn young what to expect of men. We seek in our partners what we learned was normal from our fathers. At first, I felt so stupid for that, taking the resulting escalation of violence and intimidation as something I had brought on myself. It took time for me to realize that I have to let everything go. I need to move forward to heal the wounds of my past.

  I see in Cory a good man, who puts my needs and emotions first. I see a gentle man with a darker side. The yin and the yang. I see two people who are complementary in many ways.

  If I’m brave enough to hold out my heart in my hand, the person who takes it will need to hold it gently. I know Cory would wrap it in silk, put it in his pocket and keep it with him always.

  His arms roam over my back, possessive and gentle, squeezing and needing to show me how much he wants me, conscious not to be too forceful. His careful approach makes me want to ditch the rest of the reception and have him tie me up and take me again.

  He pulls me in tighter to his body, his hand stroking over my hair like a father would soothe a child.

  Finally, he breaks the kiss and we stand there breathing heavily, staring at each other. I feel awakened inside. Small fragments of my soul have been picked up and placed back together.

  A smile turns the corner of his lips up and his eyes sparkle.

  “I’ve got you, babe,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose.

  And I know that he has, in all the ways that count.

  EPILOGUE

  ALLYSON

  ONE YEAR LATER

  I take a corner at medium speed and smile as the red and blue flashing lights bathe the inside of my car. I peek in the rear view mirror. When I see Cory’s grin I pull over to the side of the road. It’s the same road he pulled me over on a year ago. The traffic stop that changed my life.

  I turn off the ignition and rub my hands over my skirt. My nipples are already hard as I wait for him to sidle up to the car. My skin feels hypersensitive, knowing what’s coming.

  I roll down the window as soon as he approaches the driver’s side door.

  “Do you know how fast you were going, Allyson?” A grin turns up the corners of his mouth. His eyes flash
with desire.

  “Too fast?”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the car.”

  I unbuckle my seatbelt and bat my lashes at him until he moves away from the door. I get out and lean against the hood waiting for what he’ll do next.

  “I’m going to have to check you for weapons.”

  My heart races. A jolt of awareness crashes through me, settling between my legs. This is my favorite part.

  “Stand facing the car with your hands on the roof and spread your legs.”

  I do as Officer Carlisle asks, biting back a sassy remark. I flash him a grin instead and get into position, setting my legs wider than he needs for a routine weapons check.

  He starts at my ankles and feels his way up my legs. His touch is light, soothing, and it makes me so hot I want to spin around and pull him into my arms, but I wait until he gets to the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I tremble as his fingers knead the muscle.

  “Should you be doing that?” I ask.

  “Don’t try to act innocent with me. You want it,” he says. “A bad girl like you needs to know who’s in charge.”

  He moves his hand up higher, under my skirt, his thumb almost grazing the aching lips of my pussy. I spread my legs even more, leaning over against the car, resting my head on the roof with my hands splayed out.

  “I don’t want you to do that,” I say, loving every second of my fantasy coming to life.

  “Then you shouldn’t have been speeding.”

  He skims up higher and encounters no barrier. I hear his sharp intake of breath and I grin. Leaving my panties at home was definitely a good idea.

  His fingers get so close to my pussy that I start to ache. My legs tremble even more. I fight the urge to bend so I can pull him into me. He flicks his thumb over my clit and I suck in a breath.

  “You like that, don’t you? You want me to fuck you here on the side of the road.”

  “I don’t like that,” I gasp but my voice sounds more excited than scared. “I don’t want you to do that to me.”