Holding The Line: A romantic suspense that will get your pulse racing. Kierney Scott
I could tell you.”
Torres put his hand on her. His palm was rougher than she remembered, even more callused. Her skin warmed under his touch. “Don’t tell me then. I don’t need to know. You need the lies you tell yourself; maybe I need mine too. You’ve moved on, I know. I see it, I don’t need to hear about it.”
“Please don’t stand so close to me.” She couldn’t breathe. He was too close. She remembered this, his smell, the way she was drawn to him even when she fought it. There was a safe zone with him, where rationality prevailed, but once he was close, all higher reason broke down and she was propelled by something primal. “Torres. We can’t go back.”
Beth stood. She needed to create space between them again. But instead of moving further away, Torres used the opportunity to close the gap between them. “I don’t want to go back,” he assured her.
His breath was hot on her neck. She shivered at the sensation. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him. My God how she wanted to stroke his skin and run her hands through his hair. He was too close for her to think.
“Things have changed,” she said again.
Half his mouth rose in a grin. “Not the way I feel. Not the way you make me smile. Not the way my body responds to you.” He stepped closer. She could feel his body pressed against her. He was too close but she wanted him closer.
For a long moment she couldn’t move. He was so close. Torres was back, here with her. Her lids gently closed as she breathed him in. Her body softened…reflex…muscle memory…instinct.
But then she remembered.
Beth pulled away. “No. I can’t do this.” She picked up her glass and took another drink. She wasn’t anywhere close to numb yet. She couldn’t do this. Their time had passed, that bridge had been well and truly burned.
Torres took the glass from her. “Getting drunk isn’t going to solve anything.”
Beth clenched her hands into fists to keep herself from reaching for him. He lowered his head and kissed her neck. The caress of his tongue on her delicate flesh sent a bolt of desire to her core.
She needed to stop.
But she wanted him.
She tried to push him away but her arms would not listen. “It might make me feel better.” It might make me want you less.
He shrugged. “No it won’t. It will just give you something different to feel shitty about.”
Beth’s eyes flew open. If he only knew. “Trust me, I have plenty to feel shitty about.” She pushed away from him and grabbed her wine glass.
“Beth, stop it! I’m not going to let you do this to yourself. You’re not even enjoying it. You’re just drinking to get drunk.”
Beth laughed but there was nothing joyful about the sound. “Now you’re here to save me from my mistakes. Where were you all the other times? Where were you when I let my mom be institutionalized? I needed you then. Where were you?” She threw her head back and downed the contents. Her throat burned.
“I’m sorry.”
She held up her hand to cut him off. “No, there is more. You’re back and you think we can go back to the way it was. Before, you would just have to look at me and my panties would come off. That is how it was then. But it can’t ever be that way now. You wouldn’t want me if you knew. Ask me why, Torres!” she demanded.
“Stop. You’re drunk. Don’t say things you’re going to regret.”
“Ha! I wish words were all I had to regret,” she scoffed. “Maybe if you had been here, I could have limited my regrets to only stupid drunken words. Where were you when I needed you, Torres?”
She pushed him. Her hands struck into the solid wall of his chest. He didn’t budge but his strength only served to ignite her smoldering anger. The pain was fresh as the day he left, like acid on a paper cut.
“Where were you when I was fucking Patterson?!” There, she’d said it. It was out there and she could never take it back.
Torres’ face changed, went impossibly dark, his eyes glazed over.
She struck her hands into his chest again. “Where were you? I needed you then.” Beth struck him again. “Say something, you son of a bitch. Where were you all the times I was fucking Patterson?”
Torres pinned her arms to her sides. “Shut up,” he seethed. His voice was ragged. “Don’t say any more.” His body shook as he tried to control his anger. There had never been any love lost between Torres and Patterson; they hated each other actually. Her partner had been against recruiting Torres from the beginning, he thought he was too unpredictable, too emotionally invested, too much of a liability. And for Torres, any shred of goodwill towards Patterson had been lost when Patterson let Beth take the blame for the ambush in Mexico.
Beth knew sleeping with Patterson would hurt Torres, more than if she had slept with anyone else. And maybe that is why she picked Patterson. Or maybe because it was because he looked at her the way Torres once did. Or maybe it was because she knew it would never be messy with Patterson. He made her feel good, desired. Sometimes he even made her forget. And Patterson knew the rules; what happened off the clock would never affect their professional relationship.
She pulled against him but she was overpowered. “No, you need to hear about it. Four years is a long time. Did you expect me to be waiting for you? Ask me when the first time was.”
“Stop it,” he commanded through clenched teeth. The muscles in his jaw knotted. He pushed her against the wall, pinning her in place. “I don’t want to hear it.”
The air was being squeezed from her body; every breath was a battle. Her body ached. It took all her strength to fill her lungs enough to say, “Two days. Two days before he was fucking me. Two days.”
“I told you to stop.” Torres pulled her away from the wall. She could finally breathe, but not for long. He gathered her against him. “I told you to stop,” he said again.
He pushed her back until her knees hit the couch. She fell back. His hands reached for his zipper. In an instant, his cock was free, long and hard.
Beth opened her mouth to speak but Torres covered it with his hand. “No more,” he rasped. “I can’t hear any more.”
With one hand he clasped her mouth, with the other he yanked up her skirt. He pulled at her panties. She bucked her hips. The movement was enough for the satin to give under the strain. Over his ragged breath she heard the fabric rip and then she felt the rush of cool air against her naked flesh.
With a single stroke he penetrated her, filling her completely. Her eyes widened with pain as the head of his cock battered against her cervix. He took his hand away from her mouth. “No more talking,” he said.
Wordlessly she nodded. He withdrew slowly until just the tip of him sat poised at the entrance of her body. “I’m here now,” he said as he slid into her again. Her legs spread to make room for him. “I’m here now.”
Beth’s hands went to his hair, fisting in the dark length. Slowly he moved in and out of her, claiming her. In that moment she belonged to him. Her body wasn’t ready, but she didn’t fight him. He was here now, with her, in her. She could worry about things later. Tomorrow their relationship would still be over, tomorrow she could still drown in regret. She could cry tomorrow.
Right now he was inside her and that was all that mattered. It was the thing she had trained herself to stop wishing for. But her body still craved it, still knew how to respond to his touch.
His pace grew faster, less restrained. Her hips bucked to match his thrusts. With a final powerful thrust, he came, his cock pulsed as warmth filled her.
He collapsed on her. They lay together, him still inside her, his cheek pressed against hers. The only sounds were his ragged breaths. Neither dared