My tongue darted out and pressed against the tender skin just under her ear. The salty taste of her caused a low groan as I imagined how the rest of her tasted. I felt her hands both come to rest on my forearms, then slide slowly up my shoulders.
"If you weren't holding that cup of coffee, I'd ask you to carry me upstairs right now," she whispered, her breath hot on my ear. My hand moved up, grabbing hold of her ponytail, pulling it down and forcing her eyes to look into mine. I dropped my cup filled with coffee to the sand and pressed my now free hand to the swell of her backside, pulling her in to me, letting her feel my erection.
"Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart," I muttered, just before bending down and capturing her with my arms, and turning to carry her up the stairs. She immediately started squirming, laughing and mildly complaining as I climbed the stairs with her in my grasp.
"Preston, this is ridiculous," she laughed, kicking. Lena was a strong woman. She ran regularly and took care of her body. But compared to me, she was slight, and she stood no chance against my arms when they wanted her close. One hand reached out and opened the door to my apartment and once we were inside, I used a foot to slam it shut, wasting no time walking back to the bedroom.
"I missed you when I woke this morning to an empty bed," I said after I laid her down and covered her with my body. She was breathing hard, but it wasn't from her run; it was her body reacting to mine.
"I didn't want to wake you," she whispered. "You looked so peaceful."
My eyes ran over her face, trying to read her expression. I'd had a hard time being away from her since I'd come here. At night, my body wound itself around her, my arms and legs sought her out, making sure she was next to me while I slept. She'd probably wanted a few minutes alone; a few minutes where I wasn't claiming her with my hands or holding her to me in my sleep.
My eyes roamed over her face, trying to read her expression, trying to figure out where her head was at. Lena had always been forthcoming with me, never shied away from telling me what I wanted to know-sometimes I just had to ask.
"Is it difficult to be around me so much? Would you rather go back to staying in the apartment with Piper?" Ever since we'd reconciled, she'd been staying with me in the apartment Parker had originally taken. Sam and Piper were staying in the two bedroom. I'd ambushed her. Shown up when she thought she'd gotten rid of me forever, and I'd practically held her captive since. I knew I was clinging to her, knew I was keeping her close, trying desperately to make up for the two months I had been away.
Her brow furrowed at my words and confusion became evident in her expression.
"Why would I want to move back into that apartment? I want to be with you." She sounded convincing. In fact, she sounded almost a little offended I'd asked.
"We've been together almost every spare moment since last week. I just want to make sure you aren't feeling smothered or in need of some space."
"I had two months of space that I didn't want to begin with." Her hands moved around my waist and up my back, urging me closer to her. "I want to be with you. It was just a jog."
She was right, I was being paranoid, but I would give her anything she wanted. I pressed my lips to hers, kissing her lightly, not entirely finished with our conversation.
"I just want you to be happy," I said, my mouth just a breath away from hers.
"I'm happiest when I'm with you," she breathed, her words making me lighter somehow. We'd met in a very unconventional way, started a ridiculously unconventional relationship, and then everything had gone to shit. She'd been convinced I was the worst man on the planet and there were times I worried her mind was still tainted with those thoughts of me-consciously or not. But I exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, my forehead falling gently to meet hers.
"Same goes, sweetheart."
"Preston?"
I lifted my head to look at her. "Yeah?"
"One of two things needs to happen here. You either need to take my clothes off me and follow through with your threat, or I need to take a shower."
A slow smile crept across my face and I leaned back so I was sitting on my ankles, her legs spread out around me. Her body was flushed from her run, a pink hue stretching from her chest up her neck. She bit her bottom lip, waiting for me to decide what I would do with her. To her. I reached behind me to grasp her ankle, bending her knee and pulling her foot in front of me. I removed her shoe and sock, then placed her foot back down and did the same with her other leg. She squirmed a little each time I removed her sock and I assumed she was ticklish, storing that information away for another day.
Once her legs were bare, I bent lower and put my mouth on the skin just below her sports bra, my tongue darting out, eager to taste the salt on her skin. She hummed as my mouth moved lower, stopping just above her shorts. Goose bumps broke out over the soft skin of her stomach and I smiled against her, my mind drifting back to the first time I saw her body and knew she'd be mine.
***
When I'd purchased my baby, my brand-new jet-black souped-up Lotus, I'd imagined myself in lots of scenarios. Sure, I was a private investigator, but the job was less glamorous than one might imagine. I spent more time tailing old married men than gangsters or criminals. The color of the car came in handy at night, but I had to be creative to utilize the speed and sexiness of it. I might have been guilty of happening upon street races or driving recklessly late at night, just to feel like I was using the car to its full potential. But sitting outside of a bar, waiting for some poor unsuspecting woman, was only made better by the car I was sitting in.
This wasn't my usual job. No. I had always kept my professional and private lives separate. No need mixing the two and creating unnecessary messes. But I'd do anything for Piper. Even if it meant seducing a woman. Even if it meant having my picture taken while I was inside of her-job's terms, not mine. It was a very specific job. Not just "sleep with the target." No, it was unusually more in-depth than that. More like, "sleep with target in her own bed, allow photographs to be taken in which it's obvious and undeniable that sexual intercourse is occurring, deliver images to target's husband." What kind of man wants that type of explicit photographic evidence?
As if I couldn't get more confused about why a man would want someone to purposefully sleep with his wife, she appeared in front of the bar and I was speechless. Her long, black-as-night hair was tied up high, but still hung to the middle of her back. The knee-length skirt hugged her slim thighs as she walked toward the doors, and her sky-high heels made what I could see of her legs look fucking fantastic.
As she reached to pull the door open, she turned toward my car, her eyes scanning the sidewalk, and I knew-from that instant-my life had just been hijacked by a woman I was hired to ruin. Never before had I felt such instant ownership over anyone, but she belonged to me. The way she put herself together, the way she tried to portray herself to the outside world, was a juxtaposition to the softness of her face. Her outfit, so stark and cold, hell, even her hair was tight and unobtainable. But her face, it was searching for something, longing and hope prevalent in her expression. She needed someone to help her and I'd be damned if it was anyone but me. In that moment she became my exclusive property.
Chapter Two
I woke to the sound of the front door opening and then closing, and my body shot up from the bed, my instincts taking over. I reached for the gun in the drawer of my bedside table, my fingers nearly on it when I heard Piper's voice.
"Preston," she shouted, "are you here?"
I shut the drawer and sighed heavily as my hand ran over my face, my heart pounding. I looked at Lena; she was still asleep. Usually I'd marvel at her ability to sleep through the ruckus, but we'd spent hours earlier wearing each other out in bed, so I understood how she was dead to the world. I stood up, grabbing my jogging shorts from the floor where Lena had thrown them after taking them off me, and pulled them on before heading into the living room.
"Preston?" Piper called out again just as I entered the room.
"Shhhh," I hushed her quietly, my finger to my lips. "Lena is sleeping," I said, walking past her into the kitchen and flipping the switch on the coffee maker.
"It's the middle of the afternoon," she said, her voice teasing. I could hear the smile on her face, and could tell by the tone of her voice she knew we'd been in bed all day and Lena was sleeping off sex.
I turned toward her. "And your point is?"
"I don't really have one," she said, laughing. "Just giving you a hard time." She came up next to me and took the coffee from my hands, finishing the task for me. Piper had always been louder than I was, more expressive, more forthcoming. I was the quiet one, the one who was thoughtfully silent. Most of the time, at least when we were younger, we were thinking the same thing, our minds always on the same page, but she was just more vocal about everything. There were advantages to being a twin, but those came with disadvantages as well. Even so, I wouldn't trade her for the world. Having a twin was like having a built-in best friend for life.