Decker Page 8

  I reach the desk and place my hands on the shiny wood, needing the support before I raise my gaze to stare at the looming portrait of my mother.

  My heart climbs into my throat as she peers down at me.

  She’s ethereal up there. Heavenly with her gentle smile and loving eyes. I’d do anything to get her back. Maybe then the family I was always sworn to honor wouldn’t be riddled with lies and betrayal.

  She could’ve kept us whole.

  She could’ve protected me and my siblings.

  “I miss you, Mom.” I walk toward her, struggling to remain composed as I grab the heavy frame encasing her and take it off the wall. “I wish you were here.”

  I place her on the desk, her gaze tracking my every move as I turn and face the safe I’ve revealed. The dark gray metal looms before me, the keypad cold to the touch as I enter the family pin code.

  The door releases, and I pull it wide to expose a stack of cash and a gun. But the item making my pulse pound is the phone laying almost camouflaged against the black velvet interior.

  “Thank God.”

  I snatch at the device, sweet relief rushing through me as I turn it on and wait for the software to load. When the screen brightens, it shows a depleted battery with less than forty percent charge. But that’s okay. I can make this work.

  I pat my hand around the bottom of the safe, searching for a power cord that isn’t there.

  Damn it.

  I’m determined to remain positive, even though forty percent won’t get me far when I have to search to find the numbers I need. I keep scouring the office, checking my father’s desk drawers and the empty filing cabinets. I even rush to the kitchen to scour there, too.

  Nothing.

  There’s no way to charge the cell, which means my time is limited.

  Shit.

  I open an internet app and type in familiar businesses and contact names. I work frantically, jotting down notes and people of interest until the battery life is dwindled by half. I’m about to connect my first call when a ringtone breaks the silence, the sound coming from the far end of the house—Sebastian’s phone.

  Fucking hell.

  I stare at the device in my palm, wanting and needing to use it, but I’m not willing to get caught making the necessary calls. I can’t risk being overheard.

  With a huff of frustration, I turn off the cell and place it back in the safe. It will have to stay there until later. Then I tiptoe down the hall toward Sebastian’s room, the sound of his sleep-roughened voice tickling the hair at the back of my neck as I approach.

  “What’s up, Hunt?”

  I stop before I reach his opened door and plaster myself against the wall, listening to the one-sided conversation.

  “I was good until you woke me,” he growls. “I haven’t had a lick of sleep.”

  There’s a pause. A rustle of sheets.

  “Have you found any leads?” He sighs. “There’s gotta be something. Who owned the car?”

  I tilt my head, needing to hear every roughly mumbled word.

  “Well, if it was stolen, who did they steal it from?” He huffs. “I need to get my ass back home to help you guys look. I can’t do dick here when I don’t have a computer.”

  My heart clenches. He wants to leave?

  “She’s good. Taking everything in stride.”

  My pulse increases at the change in topic, and I guess it’s also from the softness in his voice when he talks about me. I want to understand him. I need to. Even more so now that he’s pushing to go home.

  “No. I slept on the sofa, asshole. I didn’t go anywhere near her rocket pocket.”

  I press my lips tight and struggle not to laugh.

  “Torian doesn’t need to worry,” he continues. “I’ll protect her. As long as there’s air in my lungs, Keira will be safe.”

  My laughter fades. Evaporates. I stare at the wall opposite me, trying not to become overwhelmed by his adamant conviction.

  He’s vowed to protect me.

  He’s vowed, even if his own life ends in the process.

  Why?

  The conversation continues, turning into snide banter as I become lost in the darkened forest of my thoughts.

  I can’t remember ever hearing someone speak about me like Sebastian just did. Yes, my brother values my safety. He demands it. But my protection in the eyes of my family is more of a strategy.

  If we all stay safe, we all stay strong.

  Not even my father has spoken about protecting me the way Sebastian has—As long as there’s air in my lungs.

  My chest tightens.

  Again, why? I don’t know if I should be comforted or concerned.

  There’s another rustle of sheets and the squeak of the bed frame. I panic, unsure if he’s about to catch me spying.

  I push from the wall and enter the doorway with a forced smile, but my expression doesn’t matter. He doesn’t turn to me. He sits on the edge of the mattress, hunched over, his head in his free hand, his bare feet on the carpet.

  “She’s here now. Do I need to pass on any messages?”

  He tilts his head, meeting my gaze. His demeanor doesn’t change. He barely acknowledges my presence. He still looks weary. Entirely drained. The lines of exhaustion in his features beg to be touched. Gently softened with the glide of a finger.

  My palms tingle. My pulse increases as I move closer.

  “Fuck off, Hunt.” He lowers his focus to the floor, his tone still holding the lingering gravel of sleep. “I told you, I’m treating her like a queen. Unlike you, I know how to look after a woman.”

  He doesn’t shift as I approach. There’s not even a ripple of muscle. And there are so many muscles—back, arms, stomach, and God, his legs.

  I bite my lower lip and wonder what it would be like to sink my teeth into him instead.

  “Tell him I look forward to speaking to him,” he drawls. “Call me if anything changes.”

  He lowers the cell, presses a button, then throws the device to the pillows before lifting his chin to look at me.

  “Hey,” he murmurs.

  “Hey.”

  I itch to touch him.

  “How’s Hunter?”

  He huffs out a tired breath. “Annoying, as always. But he said I might be able to take you home tomorrow if things stay quiet.”

  “Okay.” I keep my emotions in check. Every single one of them. “Is he any closer to finding out who was responsible?”

  “No, not yet.”

  I nod, becoming endeared by the lazy softness of him. With the raise of a hand, I could run my fingers through his hair. I could feel the heat of his skin. He’s there. Right there in front of me.

  He frowns. “What’s going on, sweetness?”

  I shrug and pretend those endearments don’t hit me hard between the thighs. “You still look tired.”

  “It’ll take a few minutes for me to wake up.”

  I want to be the one to wake him. I want him to trust me enough to remain tired and lethargic, too. It’s a strange feeling, and I’m not sure if it’s due to strategy or emotion, but it’s there nonetheless, the delicious thrill curling its way around my belly.

  I reach out, unable to hold back any longer, and run my fingers through the dark strands of his hair. It’s my first deliberate touch. The connection made due to something other than fear or reliance. I’m sending a clear message, one I see reciprocated in his expression as he holds my gaze.

  “Keira…” My name is a warning that brings a delicious thrill.

  “Mmm?” I scrape my nails over his scalp.

  He groans, the deep sound vibrating from his chest. “You’re going to send me straight back to sleep if you keep doing that.”

  “Really?” I cock a brow. “That wasn’t my intent.”

  His eyes narrow, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to call me out on my flirtation. Going down this road isn’t a good idea. Not for either of us.

  “What is your intent?” His gaze is sharp, read
ing me, trying to figure out what’s going on in this messed up brain of mine.

  “I don’t know.” I’m stuck between wants, needs, and responsibility. Morality, necessity, and danger. “But I should stop, shouldn’t I?”

  “Yeah.” He leans his head into my touch. Not backing away. Not retreating.

  I literally have him in the palm of my hand.

  Power bleeds through me, coursing from the inside out. I tingle. Everywhere. My stomach flutters with the strength of a thousand butterflies. My skin burns.

  “And what if I don’t?” I ask. “What happens then?”

  His nostrils flare, his hands tensing as they lay against the bed covers. “I think we’re both well aware of what happens then, cupcake.”

  8

  Decker

  Her nails against my skin… Her gentle, seductive words… Those eyes. Fuck. Those gorgeous innocent eyes.

  All of it messes with my sleep-addled brain.

  I’m hallucinating. Or worse, she’s playing me, and I can’t even decipher the deception.

  “You were in here earlier.” I hold her gaze, looking for a glimpse of betrayal. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “Of course you were still awake.” She chuckles, her nails still trekking a deliriously intense trail over my scalp. “I came in to get your clothes. I’ve already washed them. It shouldn’t be long until they’re dry.”

  I smother my surprise. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to. It’s the least I can do.” She inches closer, her legs brushing my bent knees. “Not that I’m the best at laundry. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”

  I don’t care about the clothes. I wouldn’t give a shit if she shredded them to pieces. “Sure is.”

  With the way she’s looking down at me, her appraisal delicate and pure, I’d settle for walking around half-naked until we have to go back to Portland.

  “I also found the money Cole was talking about in the safe.” Her nails rake deeper, the bite of pain an intoxicating thrill. “I can repay you for all the cash you’ve spent.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “It’s not my money. It’s yours. I owe it to you.”

  “Fine,” I mutter, no longer willing to be distracted from her touch. “We can sort it out later.”

  She smiles, slow and sweet. “You’re still exhausted. Why don’t you get some more sleep?”

  Getting horizontal is the only thing on my mind, but sleep has nothing to do with it. I can feel her everywhere—in my blood, with each beat of my heart, in every twitch of my fingers.

  I want her.

  I fucking need her.

  I stare into those eyes, trying to determine what’s being hidden by her seduction. She entered my room for a reason, and I’m not delusional in thinking it was for sex. “What are you doing in here, Keira?”

  Why is she touching me?

  Tempting me.

  Playing games.

  She waits, taking her time to form the perfect answer. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s not like you,” I keep my voice low. “You’re not indecisive. You know exactly what you want. So, tell me. What are you hiding behind those ocean eyes?”

  She sucks in a slow breath, her nails pausing at the back of my scalp. “I find it hard to read you. Usually, people aren’t that difficult to understand. But with you I’m struggling.”

  My pulse rises, eager for her to continue the trail of those fingers. “Is that all this is? You’re trying to read me?”

  “No.” She rakes her teeth over her lower lip. Sweet. Uncharacteristically virtuous. “It’s more than that.”

  I’m struggling to read this situation myself. She’s not usually like this. Close. Soft. Almost malleable. I’m seeing it more and more. First, in the shower last night, now here, in my room, while I’m half naked.

  I’m tempted to grab her. To pull her close and drag her down to the mattress on top of me despite the stupidity. And there’s so much fucking stupidity.

  The temptation before me is enough to have me brushing aside the threat of her brother. Fuck Torian. Fuck her entire family. As long as I can fuck her, right?

  Wrong.

  Focus, asshole.

  There’s too much at stake to literally blow this now. “You should get out of here, hot stuff. You don’t want this.”

  “I told myself the same thing.” Her nails working in circles. “I keep telling myself. But here I am. And I can’t seem to find the will to leave.”

  Her fingers move behind my ears, the scrape igniting a shiver that rushes through my chest. She treks her touch to my neck, along my jaw, and stops at my chin to nudge her knuckles into my skin and tilt my face closer to hers.

  She’s unpredictable.

  Undeniable.

  “Do you want me to fuck you, Keira?” I murmur. “Because that’s what’s going to happen if you don’t get out of here.”

  She swallows and shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to be fucked.” She leans in and glides the delicate pad of her fingers over my growing stubble. “I want to get to know you. The kind Sebastian. The protective guy I glimpsed the first night we met.”

  “There’s nothing kind about me, honey.”

  “Just charm and sarcasm, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She smiles, but the humor doesn’t reach her eyes. “In fact, I think that’s another reason why Cole doesn’t trust you. You’re too sweet. Too nice. You don’t fit in.”

  That may have been the case years ago.

  It sure as shit ain’t now, though.

  Life circumstances have made me the perfect player in this crime-riddled family. I’m here because I fit like a fucking glove.

  I grab the back of her thighs and yank her forward, trapping her between my legs. She gasps, those baby blues flashing as she grabs my shoulders to stabilize herself.

  “If you’re looking for nice, you’ve come to the wrong guy.” I grab the front of her blouse and tug her close. “If you want sweet, I’m not that guy either.”

  There’s no room for weakness in this world. Not around her family and definitely not in the bedroom. If she expects a limp dick, she’s got another thing coming.

  “I just want you,” she whispers. “The real you.”

  I tug her blouse harder, forcing her lips to mine. She whimpers as our mouths collide, and I keep tug, tug, tugging her forward until she climbs onto the bed. Onto me. She straddles my hips, her skirt creeping higher up her perfect thighs.

  There’s no sweetness. Not one fucking thing kind about our kiss.

  I part her lips with my tongue, demanding entrance she allows too easily. There’s no fight in her, only surrender. The sweetest fucking surrender I eagerly devour as she nestles on top of my crotch.

  We’re chest to chest, not a breath of space between us, and still she’s not close enough.

  I want more.

  I need everything.

  I shove my hand into her hair and fist the long strands. I palm her ass, guiding her into a gentle rock against my pulsing cock.

  She’s perfect. She’s always been perfect. And having her nestled against my shaft, her lips on mine, is the sweetest fucking victory I’ve ever tasted.

  But we’re not supposed to be together.

  Never were. Never should be.

  If only the lust coursing between us didn’t feel like divine fucking intervention brought us here.

  She places her hand on my chest, lightly pushing, breaking the kiss. “Why did you save me last night?” Her panted breaths brush against my skin.

  “Why?” I find it hard to concentrate when her kiss-darkened lips are a constant distraction. “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “But why? Why risk your life to save mine? You barely know me.”

  “I know you, Keira. It feels like I’ve known you for a long time.”

  She shakes her head, our noses brushing. “No, you don�
��t. I barely know myself.”

  I don’t buy it.

  I can’t.

  “Then maybe it’s a gut feeling I have,” I hedge. “I’ve been infatuated with you since the first night we met. That doesn’t happen for no reason.”

  “I’m sure there are many reasons—the thrill of the chase… The desire for something you’re not supposed to have… Lust…”

  I incline my head. “It could be all the above. And the list wouldn’t be complete without noting how devastated I would’ve been to see your perfect body marked by a bullet hole.” I slide my hands down her back and over her tailbone. “I’ve pictured a lot of things going into this ass of yours, but a bullet ain’t one of them.”

  Her lips quirk and she rolls her eyes. “Always with the humor.”

  “That wasn’t humor. That’s the God’s honest truth.”

  She chuckles and brushes her lips over mine. “You’re not putting anything in my ass, Sebastian Decker.”

  “Maybe not today or tomorrow. But if we go down this path, I most definitely will, my sexy goddess.”

  She pulls back, scrutinizing me with a mix of concern and exhilaration. There’s innocence, too.

  “You’ve never let anyone play there before?” I squeeze her ass. Hard.

  She sucks in a breath and shakes her head. “No.”

  My pulse pounds harder. The desire to claim her becomes a living, breathing thing inside my chest, demanding action. “You have no idea how fucking hard that makes me. I’m—”

  My cell rings, cutting off my words and stealing the lust-filled mania.

  Keira glances toward the pillows, then back at me, wrapping her hands around my neck, her fingers playing with the hair at my nape. “Ignore it.”

  “Why? Who is it?”

  She leans in, reclaiming my mouth, deliberately trying to distract me.

  I groan and struggle to fight temptation. “It’s Cole, isn’t it?”

  She keeps kissing me as the trill continues.

  Goddamn it.

  “I can’t ignore him.” I pull back and meet her gaze. Unwanted clarity sinks into my veins, smothering the lust.

  “Go on, then.” She climbs from my lap and moves to stand beside the bed.

  “Have I told you how much I despise your brother?” I snatch my cell from the pillow.