Bound to Her by Deborah Pin (popular books to read .txt) 📖

with her just because some dumb fucking lunatic suggests it?” His voice was raised and he was struggling not to yell.

“I think you’re treading on thin ice with her. I’ve seen you with her.

You can pretend it’s innocent all you want but there’s nothing innocent

about it.” Stephens stood and stalked from the room.

He had no business going after her and he didn’t. At least not for a couple of hours. But the moment he was out the door of the precinct in

his car, the war in his mind started and he fought with himself half the

way home until he finally turned around and headed to Imogen’s house

instead. He had no business at all doing this. He wasn’t treading on thin

ice—he was jumping up and down on it, daring it to break through and destroy his career.

Chapter Fourteen

 

When there was a knock on the door that night, Katrina nearly

jumped herself right off the couch and onto the floor. She was grading—

or trying to grade, though she couldn’t concentrate on anything. Imogen

had a date and was gone for the evening, leaving Katrina alone in her veritable fortress on the water.

She peeked through the peephole and there he was. The man who

had her guts wound into knots, her heart trying to pull apart at the seams

and her panties soaked through every time he was near her. She was pathetically attached to him—the man who didn’t want to be her friend.

Was it this damn case, the security he exuded perhaps? Or was it just him?

Her heart had sunk on the way home from the precinct. It was just a

damn lousy way to end an already-shitty day and as she pulled the door

open for him, she fought all the bullshit spinning through her mind. She

wanted to give into it and fall apart. It had just been one of those kinds of days. But she didn’t. She offered a small smile and stepped back so he could enter. He watched her carefully as he passed—he wasn’t buying her feigned smile.

“Are you okay?”

No. It’s what she wanted to say. Instead she nodded slowly and led him to the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and she leaned against

the opposite one. It was silent and after a moment, she walked to the fridge, grabbed a couple of beers and handed him one. She opened hers

immediately and took a big swig. He looked at his for a moment before

setting it unopened on the counter next to him and then returned his eyes to her.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I only talk about things like that with my friends.” She was throwing

his bullshit in his face but she felt guilty the moment she said it.

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, you were right.” Her eyes stared at the ground for a few

seconds. “Heard a story on the radio on my way home today. Young woman, abducted, beaten, raped, murdered. Her body was just dumped

on the side of the road like garbage.”

“Yeah. I know that case.”

She found his eyes. He was watching her cautiously. He looked

suspicious of where she was going with this. “Just got me thinking.”

“Katrina, don’t do this.” There was a warning in his voice but he didn’t know her moods—and when she was in a mood like this, she

wasn’t going to be stopped.

“I could turn into a dead body one of these days, couldn’t I?”

“Please.” He sounded desperate.

“That girl was alive too. She was alive just like me—until…she

wasn’t.”

“Don’t.” He sounded like he was damn-near begging.

“My body could just end up being part of a crime scene. All of those

crime scene technicians who picked through those fucking disgusting

pictures could end up picking through a crime scene with my dead body

in it one of these days.”

“Stop it!” Now he was angry.

The tears that had been threatening and pricking at Katrina’s eyes since that damn radio announcement hours before finally appeared. She

could feel them sitting on her lower eyelids and yet she felt oddly calm,

as though she couldn’t really cry if she wanted to. The tears sat there as

she took in his glare. It wasn’t a mean glare—it was loaded with some kind of emotion she couldn’t even begin to guess.

“I get it.” His brow wrinkled at her words. “I get why we can’t… You

were right.” He slowly shook his head as his eyes fell to the ground. He

was finally catching on and he didn’t like what she was saying. “If we were…intimate—hell, even friends—how much more difficult would my

death be for you?” It wasn’t really a question that needed an answer and

given the shake of his head and the purse of his lips, he had no intention

of answering it. “Best to hold me at arm’s length.”

She wasn’t trying to be rude. She was dead serious. The thought of him having to see her in death left as much sadness in her for him as it

did for herself.

She didn’t expect the explosive movement of his body toward her. He grabbed her by the waist, lifting her easily to the countertop and pushing

his way between her legs before his hands found her hips and gripped her tightly. “No. I was wrong. I mean I’m right but I—I need more.” His

head was dropped to hold her gaze harshly. His voice was just as harsh

when he spoke again. “But don’t you dare assume your importance to me is about sex. If anything happened to you… It doesn’t matter if I fuck

you or not. It would destroy me.”

His grip on her hips was possessive and tight. He was pulling her body toward the edge of the counter and straight to his groin. Her tears

were falling pathetically and he was refusing to look away from her.

When his hands met her cheeks, he clutched her face so close to his. Their

mouths were nearly touching and she could smell the scent of mint on his breath. His deep breathing was a metronome that started to soothe her panicked and defeated mind and when his warm lips touched hers,

her despair melted away.

He was gentle and slow as his mouth tugged on first one lip then another. But as gentle as his kiss was, when he dropped one hand to clutch her by the lower back, he was not gentle in the least. He pulled her

body to his, forcing the space between them to disappear. She didn’t care

though—she was melting away to a place that felt so much better and safer than life and what he was doing to her body was the key to it all.

He pulled her body to teeter on the edge of the counter and his hold

on her pinned her firmly between his hand at her back and his groin in

the front. He was aroused, hard and tightly restrained by his jeans but he

made no move to touch her body further. He was only interested in her

lips. His tongue dipped between hers, slow and cautious at first and then

invasive and aggressive.

She wanted to look at him but she was afraid he’d stop if she broke

whatever spell he was under. She’d meant it when she said she

understood why they couldn’t. She did. She completely got it and her brain was screaming at her to stop before they both ended up regretting

what they were doing but his mouth felt so good, so possessive and powerful and she just didn’t want it to end.

He finally did pull from her mouth. The pad of his thumb ran over the skin of her cheek as he held her gaze. She was damn near holding her

breath, waiting for him to walk away but he didn’t.

“Oh fuck, what am I doing?” He muttered it under his breath as his

eyes glanced down at their bodies held so closely together. When he looked back to her, his brow flinched for half a second and she knew it

was over. But then slowly, so slowly she could watch every last inch of

space between them disappear, he leaned to her mouth again.

She focused on the wet smacking of their lips over and over again as

she tasted him. Dear God, he was good at this.

The door being slammed open startled them both. “Calls himself a

chemical engineer! He develops pictures at a drugstore. Arsehole liar is

what he is!” And then Imogen rounded the corner to them. They were already frozen, staring at each other but with their bodies still snug together. His lips glistened beautifully and her lips were throbbing and

sore. They both looked to Imogen but his hands remained on her hips and he closed in closer to her as though to shield her in some way.

“Oh! Well I saw your car outside but I didn’t expect—but you two just…you should just, uh…” She held up her index fingers bringing them

together as Katrina’s cheeks started burning hot. “I’ll just, uh— I’m going

to go. To the other room.” Her finger shot up in the air like a general ready to lead a charge. And then she literally ran from them toward her

bedroom. Damn it. That was humiliating. That was Imogen.

Well now it was going to happen. Now he was going to pull away.

He’d found his bearings without doubt thanks to Imogen and it was over. When he leaned to her mouth once more, planting a gentle kiss on

her lips, she moaned quietly against his mouth.

“Two years is just too fucking long.” He muttered it as he brushed the

hair away from her cheek. She had no real idea what he was talking about but the tone of his voice was just right. The smile he offered her was gentle. The hesitance or maybe even shock was there but he seemed

intent on keeping it to himself.

He kissed her forehead one more time and she followed him to the front door. “I’ll talk to you soon.” He held her eyes as she nodded and then he was gone.

She practically collapsed against the door once it was closed behind her and in a millisecond she heard Imogen’s feet stomping toward her in

a mad race. “What the—I mean, what the…” She pointed to the door and

then she pointed at Katrina as she walked toward the kitchen and then she finally brought her index fingers together again. There was no denying Imogen could be quite the child at times. Then again, so could

Katrina. “Spill it, bitch!”

Katrina shook her head, a bit dumbfounded, and after a moment she

gave up trying to come up with some rational explanation for what had

just happened and she collapsed on the couch. Imogen just sat and stared

at her.

Eventually, Katrina picked herself up off the couch and stumbled

upstairs to bed. Imogen never had really found her voice again but then

Katrina had never quite figured out what had happened. She just knew

she wanted it to happen again. Boy did she ever want to be that man’s friend.

Chapter Fifteen

 

“So are you going with us to San Francisco?”

“Do you think Seth would mind if I didn’t?”

“Hmm.” Molly was feigning contemplation. “Let’s see. Do I think a

thirteen-year-old boy would care if his father spent spring break with him at his grandparents’ house in San Francisco? Really? Jake and Seth likely won’t even want me around. Or Mom and Dad for that matter.

Trust me, they’d prefer to take vacation without us entirely at this point.

We’re grownups and that means we’re the most uncool people on the planet.”

He chuckled at her but it didn’t ease the guilt one ounce. She was right. Seth wouldn’t care at all, but Dillon did. Dillon also cared about a

certain beautiful woman’s safety and the idea of trusting her safety to some uniformed officers for ten days wasn’t going to happen.

“Is this about her?” He nodded slowly as he let his eyes travel out the

dining room window to see the boys playing basketball in the driveway.

“I feel guilty though. This is spring break. I’ve been planning on going and I’m choosing to stay here.”

“Okay, well think about it this way. If she were safe—without a

question safe—would you go to San Francisco?”

“Of course.” And then as an afterthought he muttered, “I might try to

drag her along too for my own enjoyment but yes. Of course.”

Molly laughed. “My little brother’s