“Evie, we can’t. Not here.”
The fire was starting to light in his eyes. His breathing deepened and seeing that, knowing the fear was changing to desire and it was me doing that to him, had my throat growing thick. There was no way I was stopping now.
“Yes we can,” I insisted with a slow smile.
I tugged my hand out of his grasp and slowly unzipped his jeans, rubbing the hard bulge that strained against his boxer-briefs.
He sucked in a shaky breath. “Someone could walk in.”
“No they won’t. The door is closed,” I murmured as I licked my way gently along his neck, my hands gripping the hot, hard length of him as I moved my hands firmly and lovingly along the silky skin. “You make me feel so cherished, Jared. So cared for. I want you to feel the same. I love touching you, just let me touch you.”
“Oh, baby,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he swallowed hard. At my words, he went from caring that someone would walk in the door to pushing himself harder in to my hand. He moaned my name, his voice hoarse, and when he came, he buried his face into my shoulder and bit down on my neck. I shuddered at the heat swirling in my body from his teeth on my skin, and tears welled up in my eyes at how good it felt to have him wrapped around me. The depth of my feelings for Jared were only getting deeper, and right at that moment I knew that even a lifetime with his man would not be enough.
Chapter Twelve
We were smack bang inside the heart of the Sydney Police Centre, sitting in the designated waiting area. I’d dressed in what I considered was appropriate police interview attire: a mustard coloured pencil skirt and short sleeve black knit top with my hair a loose knot of curls at the nape of my neck.
I smoothed my skirt nervously. Having Jared sitting next to me, the warmth and comfort of his shoulder down to his thigh pressed against mine, helped keep my breathing deep and even. Various police type personnel eyeballed Jared and I curiously, and I fidgeted in my seat, texted Mac and Henry continuously, and watched suspicious wrongdoers with equal parts fascination and apprehension.
I met Jared’s eyes when he took my hand in his and squeezed it tight. He smiled at me, soft and reassuring, and I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in my body ease.
It wasn't like the gritty award winning cop drama I'd expected. People looked neat and tidy as they sat about their desks. No shouting detectives, urgent team huddles, or perps struggling to escape from handcuffed confines as they spat on the floor in anger. The overall mood was the only thing worth noting. The atmosphere was rife with irritation as piles of paperwork, in the space of twenty minutes, continued to pile higher or simply shifted to another pile.
Jared suffered my enthusiasm with quiet patience as we waited for Mitch. Mitch was going to formally take down the information relating to the dodgem car skirmish with Jimmy. Sitting there, I reflected back on my date with Jared two nights ago.
I had been standing under a steaming hot shower wondering, now that I was better, how I could manage to keep taking advantage of my injury. Having people wait on me hand and foot was unheard of, and I decided I liked it so much I wanted to keep the dream alive a little longer.
Mac had barged in to the bathroom and dragged me out of the shower.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
She reached in to turn off the hot spray and threw a towel at me.
“Shut up. You’ve been in there forever. You’re a prune.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a prune,” I said snootily in defence of pruned people everywhere as I dried myself off.
“Come on,” she said and shoved me out the door and into my bedroom. “Let’s get you dressed.”
“What are you doing, Mactard? I can get myself dressed.”
She blinked her wide eyes at me, her shrug exaggerated, once again aiming for nonchalance and falling far short of the mark. “You’re injured, Sandwich. I’m just trying to help you.”
I looked at her suspiciously but nodded in agreement. “Yes, I’m injured...” I feigned a wince and a hand to the temple for added believability “...but you’re acting shifty.”
“Now, now, don’t be like that.” She waved at the bed where a new black shift dress was laid out neatly. “Look, I bought you a lovely new dress.”
“You’ve been shopping without me again? Why is it okay for you do that to me, but if I do it you, you unleash the hounds of hell?”
She sighed. “Sorry, Evie, but you were in the hospital, and I needed to cheer myself up.”
I huffed. “Nice to see you looking out for yourself.”
“Hey, I bought this dress for you!”
“Thanks, Mac.” I arched an eyebrow. “And you didn’t buy anything for yourself?”
“Why are you being so snarky? You usually love it when I buy you stuff.”
“Christ, Mac, slap me, would you?” I hissed out a breath and tried to let the rabid feelings go. “I don’t know why I’m feeling out of sorts. I think it’s delayed shock or something. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, Sandwich. You’re allowed a free pass after getting your head mashed in by a truck. Sit down on the bed. I’ll do your hair and face nice for you, okay?”
I shrugged on my robe, and she proceeded to blow dry and straighten my hair until it fell like a like a sleek waterfall down my back. I heard voices downstairs and someone started playing my favourite Lana Del Rey CD.
“What’s going on down there?”
“Nothing,” Mac replied, dragging my makeup bag over to start working on my face.
“Turn it up!” I shouted down the stairs when my favourite song came on. Someone must have heard me because the volume kicked up a notch, and I sighed in pleasure.
“Mac, are we having a party? Because I’m a bit tired.”
“Of course we’re not,” she reassured me. “We’re just going to have a quiet dinner, that’s all. I thought you might want to look nice after being confined to your bed for so long.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I was a little disappointed. A party was what I’d been expecting and gearing up for since being dragged out of the shower. A little “welcome home from hospital we’re glad you didn’t get dead” kind of affair would have been nice.
She finished dusting the blush across my cheeks and sat back on her heels. “All done,” she said, admiring her efforts. “Now hurry up and put that dress on. I want to see you downstairs in ten minutes.” She stood up and left, shutting the door quietly behind her.
When I slipped on the short, silky black dress and wandered down the stairs the duplex appeared empty. “Hello?”
Jared walked out of the kitchen in jeans and a fitted green vintage t-shirt that matched his eyes perfectly, and I decided then and there I needed to buy a set of sheets in rich emerald green.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“You look beautiful.” He took my hands in his and pressed a kiss on my lips. “I thought that since we never got to have our date, and you’re not quite up to going out, we could do it here. I kicked everyone out.”
I looked at him in wonder. “You did that for me? And cooked for me?”
I racked my brain and couldn’t think of a single time that someone had cleared a house and cooked a romantic dinner for me.
My heart filled with admiration at his thoughtful effort, and I bit down on my bottom lip in an attempt to fight the tears that sprang to my eyes.
He shrugged modestly. “Mac might’ve helped a little. Drink?”
“Yes, please.”
I followed him to the kitchen, and he poured two glasses of chilled, white wine, handing one to me, and picking up the other.
“To you, Evie,” he said, lifting up his glass, his green eyes soft as they met mine. “The bravest, funniest, sexiest woman I have ever met.”
I flushed at his praise and sat my glass down to take his hand in my own. “Thank you, Jared. For being there.”
“Don’t thank me, Evie. I’m always here for you.” He smiled before adding seriously. “I admit I wanted to throttle you when I heard you were trying to run Jimmy off the road, but what you did…” His voice was unsteady as he trailed off and cleared his throat. “I admit I was impressed at your driving, but don’t try that again. I don’t think my heart could take it. Though even with that reckless manoeuvre, you managed to stay calm and controlled. If you hadn’t, it could have resulted in something worse, something that doesn’t warrant thinking about. You kept yourself alive and Henry and Jake safe, and I’m so proud of you. I care about you so much.”
With our fingers still linked together, he lifted them and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of my hand. Then he leaned forward, ducking his head and pressing a kiss to my throat. I closed my eyes at the sweet touch, my pulse pounding rapidly where his lips met my neck. I opened my eyes and Jared stepped away, leading me over to the table filled with flowers, candles and a delicious looking dinner of…
“Pizza?” I squealed in disbelief and let out a laugh. “You made pizza! How did you know it was my favourite?”
“I asked Mac,” he said.
Bless you, Mac. I gave it a suspicious look and immediately noted the parts that belonged to Jared. “Is that pumpkin? And spinach?”
“Just because its pizza doesn’t mean it can’t be healthy,” he said, winking at me as he held out a chair for me to take a seat.
I chuckled at his words and sat down, taking a swallow of wine. I could at least see the excessive amounts of cheese and pieces of prosciutto that Mac obviously had a hand in.
We chatted quietly over dinner and wine as my favourite CDs kicked over in a random shuffle. “My favourite wine, favourite food, favourite music. What are you buttering me up for, Jared?”
He came around from the table and pulled me up with both hands, leading me to the lounge room. “Your body obviously, and all the wicked things it does to me.” He winked and a slow song kicked over. “Dance with me?”
After a slow dance about the room, which was more of a sway after two bottles of wine, Jared let go of my hands to sit down on the couch. He crooked a finger at me and plastered a sexy grin on his face. “Come here, I want to do dirty things to you.”
Unable to resist his offer, I rushed towards him, tripped the corner leg of the coffee table, and managed to tackle him on the couch. We rolled to the floor with a thud. “Oops,” I whispered. “I think I might have had a little bit too much to drink.”
He chuckled as he lay on his back with my body over his. “Well, at least we’re on the floor.”
I blinked to focus on his face. “Why?”
“Because Mac made me promise at least ten times that I wouldn’t do you on the couch or she’d never be able to sit on it again.”
“Do me?” I snorted.
“Her words, not mine,” he said, reaching up to run his tongue along my neck and I leaned into it. He moved me onto my back, and I was pinned underneath his weight as his hands ran up my outer thighs, sliding the silky skirt of my dress up and around my h*ps along the way. I moaned at the feel of rough hands on smooth skin. When his hand slid inside my knickers, I closed my eyes with a shaky breath and tilted my head back, wrapping the length of one leg around his hip. His touch was feather light, skilled and perfect. I felt like I could have stayed there under the weight of him forever.