Night Games Read online

  She flinched as if he’d slapped her, and he wanted to take the words back, but he felt too angry and betrayed himself to back down now. Her mouth worked for a moment, and her voice came out a strained whisper. “It wasn’t about you. I would have made the same choice with anyone. Sleeping with you didn’t change anything.”

  The words were a blow to the chest, especially after he’d opened up to her that morning. He felt gut-punched, hurt, and that just pissed him off even more.

  “Right.” His voice dropped to a low hiss. “Of course not, because I’m just a quick fuck for you. What did you call it? Food followed by anal sex. Message received. My mistake. It’s so nice to know you would have deceived anyone to get what you wanted.” He leaned closer to her, until there were mere inches between their faces. “It’s professional courtesy to let someone know before you fuck over their investigation. Even if we weren’t sleeping together, I had a right to know about this.” He slapped the rest of the pictures down on the desk in front of her.

  Her gaze dropped to the photos and her face went deathly pale. Swaying on her feet, she put one hand on the back of a chair to steady herself. She swallowed hard, then clamped her free hand over her mouth.

  “Selina?” He looked down and saw a close-up of Bess’s dead face. But Selina had seen all these before, hadn’t she? She’d probably been there in person.

  Spinning on a heel, Selina walked over to the trash can in the corner, bent forward, and vomited. He watched her back heave as another spasm racked her, and she hit her knees.

  He was around the desk in a split second, kneeling beside her. She didn’t resist when he drew her against his chest. He rocked her lightly, his chest tight. He didn’t know why her reaction was so violent, but he couldn’t stand aside and watch her suffer. Maybe that made him weak or a fool, but that was how it was. It didn’t matter how angry he was with her. “Shh. Selina, shh.”

  “I just—” Her muscles locked, and he leaned forward with her, held back her shirt and necklace so she didn’t get puke on them. A rough sob broke out of her, and she threw up twice more, until there was nothing left in her stomach and she dry-heaved. She was shaking when she slumped back against him.

  A soft knock sounded on the door. Jack looked up to see Peyton standing there. He had a leather jacket slung over one arm. “I was on my way out and I heard ... Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine.” Selina’s voice was a gritty rasp, and she swiped her arm against her mouth.

  Jack added, “Food poisoning. She’s going home.”

  The wolf nodded as if that made perfect sense, though Jack was damn sure Peyton had heard them yelling and that was what had brought him running. He reached over and picked up Selina’s bag. “I’ll take you home.”

  “I’ll drive myself, thanks.” She hauled herself out of Jack’s arms and rose to her feet, weaving a little unsteadily.

  Peyton retained his hold on her messenger bag. “Fine. I’ll follow you and make sure you get home safely.” He lifted a hand to ward off any protests. “Then I’ll go straight to the pack for lockdown, I promise.”

  “Fine.” She didn’t look at the pictures or at Jack as she marched out the door.

  Jack stood slowly, met Peyton’s gaze. “Take care of her.”

  “I will.”

  Because he couldn’t. Because she didn’t want him to. He could feel her retreating behind those walls of hers, locking him out. It was two steps forward and five steps back with her, and he just didn’t have the energy left to deal with it today. If she needed to retreat and lick her wounds, that was her prerogative. He couldn’t force her. It was a lesson he should have learned with his wife. If a woman didn’t want to stay with him, he couldn’t make her. At least this one hadn’t chosen death as a better option.

  That evening, Selina stood in front of Jack’s front door. She lifted her fist to knock, hesitated, let her hand drop. Grim parked himself beside her, leaning against her in support. He barked once to encourage her. Pain in the ass he might be, but he was loyal to the core, and she could use the bolster to her courage right now. Selina took a deep breath, raised her hand again, and stumbled back a step when the door flew open.

  Jack frowned down at Grim but reached out to ruffle the dog’s furry head. “I thought I heard a mutt on the porch.”

  “Hi,” Selina squeaked.

  His blue gaze rose to meet hers, his expression inscrutable. If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t show it. His dark hair was rumpled as if he’d run his fingers through it multiple times, and while he still wore the clothes from the office, his tie and jacket were gone, his shirt was untucked, and his feet were bare. “Hello. You’re supposed to be home recovering from food poisoning. Did you need something?”

  “I don’t know.” Pressure had built and built inside her since she’d left him, after she’d upchucked in his office and he’d lied to protect her pride from Peyton. It had been ... kind, when she didn’t really deserve it.

  Still, she couldn’t get the image of her cousin out of her head. It had always been there, lingering in the background for thirty long fucking years, but seeing the pictures again made it feel as though the image was seared into her retinas. That night played in a loop in her head. Getting the call that there’d been another one. Realizing that she knew the address and having to call Holmes to let him know before she raced out the door. It had been the longest ten-minute drive of her life to get to Bess’s house. Some part of her had hoped, prayed that someone else had died, not her baby cousin. Her aunt had been the one to find the body, and the venom she’d spat had been nothing compared to the horror that froze Selina inside when there was no more denying the devastating truth. Those staring, blank eyes had made her vomit then, too. She’d come back and done her job, but the violent reaction had been as beyond her control then as it had been today.

  Jack watched her, waiting. Then he silently stepped back and held the door open for her. “You might as well have some coffee while you’re here.”

  A pathetic amount of gratitude flooded her that he wasn’t just going to slam the door in her face. He had every right to, and they both knew it. She stepped in, Grim preceding her. “Coffee’s good.”

  But it wasn’t what she wanted. She’d become addicted to having him as a distraction. Talking to him, sexing it up with him. Hell, there’d been a couple of especially long days when they’d just sat beside each other and watched television, making sarcastic comments about whatever they happened to be watching. Mostly, she just wanted him to strip her and fuck her hard until there was no past or present or future, until she didn’t have to think about a damn thing.

  She wanted to use him, just as he’d accused her of earlier. It made her feel like shit, but her insides were twisting and writhing so badly she’d go crazy if she didn’t get some relief from her own thoughts. She only knew of one distraction powerful enough to take her mind off of this. There were several men she could have called to take care of her needs, but she didn’t want them. She wanted Jack, no matter how pissed off he was at her, no matter how complicated things were between them. The idea of any other man touching her right now was repugnant. She only wanted Jack.

  “Forget the coffee.” She caught his arm when he would have turned toward the kitchen. “You know why I’m here.”

  “Ah, yes. Your convenient fuck buddy.” There was a sting in his voice that lashed at her.

  “That was all this was ever supposed to be.” Her tone was almost pleading, and she hated herself for the weakness, but she couldn’t make herself walk away.

  “It’s more than that now.” And he didn’t sound very happy about it. She couldn’t say that she blamed him. Right now, she was a bad bet, for so many reasons.

  “I know.” Confessing it hurt. She should never have let it get to this point, and she had no one to blame except herself. As usual. She was her own worst enemy.

  His chin dropped to his chest and he sighed. “I’m still pissed. I have every right to be.”

/>   “I know.” Gods, she did. In his position, she’d have already kicked her ass to the curb.

  “You should have told me.” He looked at her, and the pain in his gaze made her flinch.

  “I know.” She swallowed, telling herself to leave it at that. But she couldn’t. “At the time, I made the decision I thought was best. Given the same circumstances, I would probably do the same thing again. I didn’t know you, and I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

  “And you had to be on this case that badly, no matter what the cost?” His gaze drilled into her, daring her to look away.

  “Yes. For Bess. For all his victims I couldn’t spare.”

  Even now, she had to see this through to the end. It wasn’t in her to let it go and walk away. Just being who she was had pushed more than one man away over the years, and it added more weight to her chest to realize Jack might be another.

  “Are you going to make me beg?” She wanted the question to be glib, but instead it broke in the middle.

  “No, I’m not going to make you beg.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. His touch was gentle when he brushed her hair back. His gaze searched her face, but she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t deal with the questions in his eyes, couldn’t deal with the storm of emotions that rocked her.

  Fisting her fingers in his shirt, she tried to pull him down for a kiss, tried to lose herself in him and bury everything that she didn’t want to feel.

  He resisted, kissing her so sweetly it made her breath catch and her eyes sting. He bent and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom and laying her across it. His lips played over hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth to twine with hers. Her breathing sped, her nipples tightened, and the desperation faded, replaced by the hot lust he never failed to inspire. This. This was what she’d needed. She slid her fingers into his hair, the warm silk of it soft against her palms. The stubble on his jaw rasped against her skin, the feel delicious.

  Blindly, they tugged at each other’s clothing, pulling off a piece at a time between long, drugging kisses. The taste of him intoxicated her, made her crave him even more. The feel of his naked body moving against hers was something she’d never get enough of, not if she had a hundred more years to try. But she didn’t. Squelching that thought, she nipped at his lower lip, pushed her tongue in to slide alongside his and take in the flavor of him. So perfect. Her heart squeezed tight enough to make her breathing hitch.

  He slipped his hands up her arms, drew them away from his body and over her head. He broke the kiss, and before she could blink, he’d snapped a metal cuff around one wrist, looped the chain around the wrought-iron bars in his headboard, and closed the other cuff around her free wrist.

  “Oh, really?” She arched her eyebrows and tugged at the bindings. “You think these things can hold me? I know the spells to get out of even police issue handcuffs.”

  “These aren’t exactly department issued. These were elf-made just for me. Bespelled to keep even the most powerful and unruly Magickal under wraps. A Normal like me needs all the advantages he can get.” He leaned forward to blow a slow stream of air against her sensitive ear, then flicked his tongue against the delicate point. “Besides, you don’t want to escape me.”

  She shuddered, arching her body toward him. “No, I don’t.”

  “Good.” He sat back to trail his fingers from her collarbone to her breast. His face was shadowed in the dark, only thin shafts of light coming through the bedroom doorway. “Close your eyes.”

  She hesitated for a moment, but then did as he bid. He’d make it good for her, she knew it, and she refused to think about why she trusted him so implicitly.

  Testing her magic against the bindings, she found he wasn’t lying. They were built to nullify magic. If she shoved every ounce of magic she had at them, she might be able to escape. Maybe. It looked like no pleasure spells for her tonight. She just got to lie back and relish whatever he had in mind for her. A shiver went through her and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

  He blew another breath against her ear, and she writhed on the sheets, the cuffs clanging as they drew taut. Gooseflesh burst out on her arms and legs, and her nipples drew to painful points. That she couldn’t see him made it all the more erotic, and her sex throbbed, aching to be filled.

  The tip of his tongue followed the path his fingers had taken, sliding over her collarbone and slipping down to circle her nipple, then he bit down. Her breath caught at the sharp sensation, the pleasure with the sting. She tried to push her breast deeper into his mouth, bowing her back, but the handcuffs jerked tight, kept her from forcing him.

  “Shh. Just enjoy it.” His breath rushed against the damp flesh of her nipple.

  Shivers went through her, and a needy noise slipped from her. Tonight, she didn’t even care if that made her weak. She needed him now, needed what he could give her. Release. “Suck me, Jack.”

  His lips opened over her nipple, and he sucked the tight crest, batting it with his tongue, shoving it against the roof of his mouth. Switching to the other breast, he offered it the same treatment. She panted, twisting against the restraint of the handcuffs. The binding only accentuated her helplessness, and it excited her more. Sweat beaded on her flesh as her desire reached a fever pitch. Her pussy was so wet, shivers racing through her body.

  “Mmm.” He hummed, letting her nipple slide from his mouth. The sheets rustled as he sat up to strew kisses down her torso. Sliding one muscular thigh between hers, she felt him move to kneel in the vee of her spread legs. “Now would be such a good time for that pleasure spell of yours, where we get to feel each other’s lust.”

  She choked on a laugh, opening her eyes to look at him. “Undo the cuffs, and I’ll make it happen.”

  “Nah. I like having you tied up and at my mercy. It’s fucking sexy.” His hard cock twitched and seemed to expand even more. His hands closed over her thighs and shoved them wide. “I can do anything I want to you now.”

  Her heart thumped at the expression on his face, so hot and worshipful at the same time. She didn’t remember a time when a man had looked at her that way. “Jack.”

  “Hmm?” He brushed his fingers through the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs, dipping in to circle her clit. He pressed down directly on that tight bundle of nerves, then moved his finger over it in rapid strokes that had her hips arching off the bed.

  Moans poured out of her, heat streaking over her skin. Her lids drifted shut again, and she steeped herself in what he was doing to her. He wasn’t even inside her, and she could feel orgasm beginning to build as she undulated under his hand. The muscles in her thighs shook and her arms ached from yanking on the metal bindings.

  “Jack, please!”

  Pulling her legs up, he rested her ankles on his shoulders. “Look at me.”

  She did, dazed with the lust humming through her. His gaze locked with hers, the blue deep enough to drown in, the intensity electric. Rubbing the blunt crest of his cock against her slick lips, his gaze never wavered from hers. They groaned together when he pushed into her pussy, filling her as exquisitely as he always did. The expression in his eyes demanded that she stay with him, that she not look away. He withdrew, slow enough to drive her wild, then plunged back in, hard enough to make her sex clamp down on his thick cock.

  Sweat trickled down their flesh, one more sensation to heighten the others. The friction from his thrusts drove her to the edge of climax, but she wanted this to last. Her body stretched taut, and each time he entered her, the cuffs squeaked against the wrought-iron headboard. Still, she didn’t look away from him. She could see everything he was feeling. The craving, the strain of holding back his own orgasm. Laying his palm on her lower belly, he eased his thumb between her thighs, stroking her clit in time with his thrusts. It was too much. Far too much. Her hips heaved upward, and she came hard.

  A scream ripped out of her, and she arched hard against the restraints. A single wave of magic burst out, golden light
that bathed their skin, melded their pleasure, amplified their orgasms so they groaned together. Her sex pulsed around his cock, milking his hard length. His come pumped into her, a hot flood of fluid. He shuddered over her, continuing to rock himself inside her. And still they stared at each other until he dropped his forehead between her breasts, panting. She shook where she lay, her body wrung out, her mind as blank as she had hoped when she arrived at his house.

  The cuffs jangled for a moment before they fell away, and he tossed them onto the nightstand. Her body went slack against the bed, relaxing bonelessly. He drew her wrist to his lips and kissed it. “You’ll be bruised.”

  She shook her head, licked her lips, and focused her magic for a moment. Warmth seeped beneath her flesh, and the pain in her wrists faded. Healed. “A little Magickal first aid. All better.”

  “Nice.” He brushed his lips over the repaired skin.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He pulled her against him, rolling them so that her back was to his front. He wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her pressed to him. Silence descended on the room, and she could hear the steady cadence of his breathing, the tick of the clock on the nightstand, the click of Grim’s nails as he walked down the hallway.

  It was peaceful.

  She’d thought she wanted rough, fast sex, but instead he’d given her a connection that shattered her. He’d given her exactly what she needed. How he’d understood that when she hadn’t, she’d never know, but she was glad.

  His fingers drifted up and down her arm, and maybe it was because he didn’t demand any information, or maybe it was because she needed to give it voice after locking it away for so long, but there in the dark where no one could see her cry, she could finally talk to someone about Bess.

  “She was named after Queen Elizabeth—the first one, not this one.” Gods. Just that one sentence hurt. Opening this festering old wound hurt. No, forget hurt. That was a pansy ass description for it. It fucking burned a hole in her soul that could never be filled.