Catch Your Breath (29 page)

Moira watched cars drive past them, people dressed for a night out on the town. She
and Jimmy matched the attire but this wasn’t them. They would never be the couple
who dressed in fancy clothes to hang out at some downtown bar.

A faint buzzing sounded, and Jimmy’s hand left the wheel briefly to fish out his phone.
He still said nothing. The silence clawed at her. She was never good at being quiet.

“Yeah,” he snapped out. “What? Who?”

Moira turned in her seat to gauge what was going on. Jimmy glanced at her.

“Fuck. Okay.” He jammed the off button on his phone. “Change in plans. We’re going
to another hotel.”

“Why?”

“Because we have a tail. Someone is following us and we don’t know who or why. Our
best guess is someone is following because they bought your act as hooker. Good job.”

She shrank back into her seat. This was the side of Jimmy she’d heard about but never
witnessed.

Muttered curses continued to stream from his mouth. He pulled into another fancy hotel
and handed the valet his keys. He strode into the hotel with his arm around Moira,
but she’d never felt him so distant.

At least not since they’d kissed the first time. She watched him closely as he paid
for a room. Most people would see James Buchanan, stiff businessman, but she saw Jimmy
O’Malley, uptight cop. With the key card in one hand, he put his other arm around
her shoulder again. Until they got into the elevator.

He dropped his arm, pulling his warmth away with him. She knew better than to say
anything because they both needed to put on a show, but in the privacy of the hotel
room, she’d tell him exactly what was on her mind.

Which was what?

She stared openly at him, turned on in a way she knew she shouldn’t be, but bossy
Jimmy doing his cop thing was pretty sexy.

Shaking her head when the elevator stopped, she formed more appropriate thoughts.
Jimmy had no right to pull her from the party. She had every bit as much at stake
as he did. They were both trying to build their careers. His was not more important.

He slid the key card into the door, and she followed him into the room silently. She
pushed the door closed with a loud thud, and he reached behind her to utilize the
extra locks.

Moira didn’t even get a chance to make her argument. Jimmy’s body pressed hers against
the door and he kissed her. Hard and desperate. His tongue invaded her mouth and woke
up every nerve in her body.

Her anger dissipated and melted away as she took everything Jimmy gave her. His hands
were frenzied on her body as if they hadn’t seen each other for months. As if he needed
to memorize everything about her. He was rough, but not mean as he grabbed her and
rubbed against her bare skin as he reached under her dress.

When his hand reached for her panties, her eyes fluttered closed. He never moved more
than mere inches away from her, his entire being assaulted her senses, overwhelming
her. Somewhere in the distance, she heard buzzing and thought she was losing consciousness.
Was it possible to get so turned on she could pass out?

Jimmy dragged away from her with yet another mumbled curse. His hand cradled her jaw
until she opened and focused her eyes on him. His other hand held his phone. “Don’t
move.”

She swallowed hard. Moving wasn’t an option. Some of her faculties weren’t in working
order. She no longer had the ability to think or function when his dick was in touching
distance—she’d been dick-motized.

The word popped into her head and Moira giggled. Jimmy shot her a confused look over
his shoulder. She would never let him know he held that power. She’d known girls in
college who had been dick-motized. Moira and Kathy made jokes about it. How could
a cock make a girl stupid?

But now she knew.

Jimmy began pacing farther and farther from the door, and although he’d told her not
to move, she was pretty sure the spell had been broken. He rubbed a hand roughly over
his head and then tugged his tie off.

She eased away from the door and went to the bathroom to get herself together. The
dynamic between her and Jimmy was off the charts. She’d been right when she told him
at the block party that things between them would be explosive. Somehow in her head,
though, she thought the sexual charge would replace the rest of the head butting and
snipping they participated in.

After filling a glass with water from the sink, she sat on the edge of the bed. Jimmy
had finished his call and stood in front of the windows.

“Our tail is sitting outside waiting, so we have to be in here a believable amount
of time. Then . . .” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Fuck. I can’t go home if they’re
still here. James Buchanan wouldn’t live in that neighborhood.” He continued talking
as if to himself. “They must not have followed me before if they’re still interested.
If we’re lucky, the thieves plan to follow me home in order to break in after they
assess my house. See if I’m a good target.”

Moira didn’t respond. If he couldn’t go home, could she? Would it mess up his case?

“I hate to do this, but do you think you can call Griffin and ask him if I can use
his condo? I called earlier in the week, and he hasn’t responded. I need someplace
for James Buchanan to live.” Jimmy still hadn’t turned around to face her. His entire
body remained tense like he was in a constant battle.

“Sure. I think Ryan said he’s been out of town, but I can call.” She dug her phone
out again and dialed Griffin.

“Hi, Moira. What do you need?”

Why did people always answer the phone like that when she called? Then she looked
at the clock and cringed, wondering what time it was for him. “Hey, I hope I’m not
calling too late, but I have a huge favor to ask. It’s gonna sound weird.”

“I’m used to your weird. Shoot.”

“Can Jimmy O’Malley use your condo?”

“Shit. I got a call from him earlier in the week and I sent the request on to my lawyer.
I totally forgot about it. Why are you calling for him?”

“It’s a long story, but he needs to pretend to be rich, and I’m kind of involved in
a story that looks like it’s overlapping with his case. I wouldn’t pressure you right
now, but we’re in a hotel room and he can’t go home because he’s being followed, so
he needs to keep up the act.”

A grumble sounded on the phone, and Moira felt like she was talking to one of her
brothers. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

“No more than usual. This would be a huge help. Free babysitting whenever you need
it.”

“You do that anyway.” He sighed. “I’ll call the building and get him a key. Give me
an hour or so. Just make sure that nothing is destroyed.”

“Thanks. I owe you. Again.” She ended the call and looked at Jimmy, who had finally
turned away from the window. “You’re in. A key will be waiting for you in about an
hour. Don’t ruin the place.”

Jimmy opened his mouth and then shut it. Relief shone in his eyes, but she wanted
the words he held back. He was always holding back. He turned back to the window and
dialed his phone. “Walker agreed. Yeah. No. You follow her. Get someone else then.
It’s not negotiable.” His voice dropped to a near growl. “I don’t give a fuck what
Kittner says. We don’t know who’s in that car. Thank you.”

He disconnected. Moira wanted to go to him, to soothe him, to ease the edginess, but
she had a feeling she was the ultimate cause of the tension.

“Thank you for asking Walker.” His voice was quiet and still held the sharpness from
his phone conversation.

“No big deal. The O’Learys always say if you have a big family, use it.” He came from
a big family, but she didn’t get the impression it was the same for the O’Malleys.

“It’s still more than you had to do. More than most would do.”

She still studied his reflection in the window. The only light in the room came from
the bathroom where she’d left it on.

“Want to talk about it?”

He shucked his jacket and laid it on the chair in front of him. “You know I can’t.”

Her jaw tightened in frustration. “For right now, can’t you just pretend I’m your
girlfriend, not some reporter you don’t want to give information to?”

His head jerked a little when she called herself his girlfriend.

“But you are a reporter. I can’t afford to forget that.”

“I can forget if you can. Jimmy, you look like you’re about to shatter you’re so wound
up. I won’t write a damn thing about this unless you say I can. I would never intentionally
do something to screw up your job.”

He sank into the chair where he laid his jacket. Resting his elbows on his knees,
he hung his head. Moira crossed the room and knelt in front of him. She took his hands
and said, “You can trust me.”

When he looked up, she was lost in the depth of his eyes. Desperation and something
else stared at her, but she couldn’t figure out what. She couldn’t play this guessing
game with him. She leaned up and kissed him, pouring the love she’d always felt into
it.

His hands framed her face again, and she stroked up his legs until she found the button
on his pants. She stroked his dick through the material and then reached in. He groaned
into her mouth. She pushed him back into the chair and tugged the pants down enough
to release him.

He watched under heavy-lidded eyes as she stroked the length of him. Then she licked
her lips and swirled her tongue over his tip, tasting his saltiness. She sucked the
tip of his head into her mouth and then ran her tongue up and down the length. She
caressed his balls and then took his entire cock into her mouth, tapping the back
of her throat.

A deep growl rumbled in Jimmy’s chest, and she opened her eyes enough to see his face
contort. Even with his dick in her mouth, he held back. She began to bob, using her
hands and her tongue.

He grabbed her head and said, “Fuck. Get this thing off.”

Until that moment, she’d totally forgotten about the wig. She was always so much herself
around him that she’d forgotten her disguise. She straightened and his dick slapped
up against his belly. Pulling out bobby pins as quickly as possible, she tossed them
on the table and yanked the wig off.

Jimmy still looked pissed, so she unwound her hair from the bun and let it wave crazily
around her face and down to her shoulders. When she put his dick back in her mouth,
he responded with a yes as his hand threaded in her hair all the way to her scalp.

As usual, Jimmy took control and set the pace he wanted for release. Firm but gentle.
It didn’t take long and his already tight muscles became rocks. His hands fisted but
stilled on her head.

Still fucking holding back.

She shot him a look of challenge. She wouldn’t let him hold back now. Forcing her
head down on his cock, she knew he’d either have to loosen his grip or pull out her
hair. She rammed him into the back of her throat, ignoring the automatic gag reflex.
She scraped her nails gently on his balls, and he jolted, then settled into the sensation.

“Moira, babe, just—” The sounds of his panting filled the room as his balls tightened
in her hand.

The first spurt shot into the back of her throat and she swallowed. He growled and
held her head, pumping into her furiously.

When he finished, her lips and jaw were a little sore, but the complete look of relaxation
that took over Jimmy’s body was worth it. She tucked him back into his pants, but
didn’t attempt the button or zipper.

“Holy fuck,” he said as he still panted with his eyes closed.

His head lolled back on the chair and Moira crawled up his body. “Feel better?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“Good.”

“Come here.” He pulled her up until she was on his lap.

His eyes were barely open, but she looked into them. “Don’t hold back. Not with me,
okay? I can’t live like that.”

J
immy’s chest tightened, his heart constricting so much he thought it might be a heart
attack. Then Moira settled her head on his chest, tucking in under his chin, and every
nerve in his body eased. He loved the feel of her body against his, not just sexually,
but all the time.

Fuck, he was a mess.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Just so you know, Gabby’s going to follow you
home to make sure no one else follows.”

Moira played with the buttons of his shirt. “Why would someone follow me?”

“We don’t know who’s doing the following. We have no idea who the players are and
I’m not taking any chances with you.” He kissed the top of her head. She was safe
now and he’d make sure she stayed that way. “You need to back off this story, Moira.
Not only is it not safe, but it’s stupid and it’s getting mixed up in my case.”

He felt her body stiffen, but he held her in place and rubbed her back, down her arm,
keeping physical contact because he wasn’t ready to let her go.

“My story is not stupid, and it’s not my fault
you
got mixed up in my story. If you hadn’t gotten all grabby at the party, we wouldn’t
be here now.”

He sighed. She was right, but he didn’t feel any better about it. “I know your story’s
not stupid. The way you’re trying to get it is what I take issue with.”

This time she did sit up to pull away, but he locked his arms on her hips.

“If I was a journalist embedded with soldiers in Afghanistan, I wouldn’t be called
stupid.”

“Maybe not by some, but it is stupid. A civilian doesn’t belong on the battlefield
any more than you belong acting like a hooker.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to get a real story.”

“You’ve been writing real stories for a long time.”

She snorted. “Yeah, my real stories are taking me far. No one knows my name and no
one takes me seriously. I’m not some airhead taking notes on my palm. I’m a journalist.”

Her voice rose as she continued and her eyes flashed. Jimmy cupped her jaw. “I know
your name and I take you seriously.”

“No, Jimmy, you don’t, or you wouldn’t assume I should walk away from a story—a valid,
good story—just because you say so.” She stood now and slid back into her sexy high
heels. “I assume it’s safe for me to go? I mean, if I were really a hooker, we’d be
finished, right?”

He laughed. “I think we both know that if we were actually having sex, I wouldn’t
be anywhere near finished.”

She looked pointedly at his crotch. “If you say so.”

He stood, adjusting himself back in his pants. He didn’t want her to go. James Buchanan
had the money that he could afford to have her spend the entire night. The simple
thought of anyone treating Moira like a prostitute burned in his gut. “You don’t need
to leave yet.”

The look she shot him was cold and so unlike Moira. “Yes, I do.”

Jimmy knew he’d be working with Gabby, so he couldn’t have her stay. “Let me call
downstairs and have them get you a cab.”

She nodded.

“I would drive you, but James Buchanan wouldn’t be taking you home.”

She hummed a minor response while she pinned her gorgeous red hair up and tucked it
under the wig. He hated everything about this night.

Well, except for the blow job. That had almost made up for the clusterfuck he was
in the middle of.

He called down to the front desk and had them arrange for a cab. Then he called Gabby
to let her know Moira was on her way down.

“All set?”

Jimmy stared at Moira, knowing he should say something else, but he had no idea what.
Remembering what he’d discovered about her and her writing, he searched for words,
but they were buried beneath his roiling emotions looking at Moira pretending to be
a hooker. The entire image was so wrong. “Moira.”

She looked up at him, and if he could ignore the makeup and the hair and stare into
those baby blues, he could focus and see her. Only her. And what he saw twisted him.
She was wounded. He kissed her gently, hoping to ease the uncertainty from her, to
let her know he’d meant what he said. “I take you seriously. You’re amazing. But this
is complicated. Even if I wasn’t working an overlapping case, do you think I’d ever
want to see you dressed like this? Pretending to be a prostitute? Putting yourself
in danger?”

It was the last one that pushed him over the edge. Experience taught him that no prostitute
led a safe life.

“I’m an escort, Jimmy, not a hooker. I’m arm candy and conversation for guys with
money who don’t want the dating scene.”

When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up a hand. “Don’t treat me like I’m
stupid. I know most of the girls sleep with clients for money. I have no intention
of doing that or putting myself in a situation where I’m vulnerable. I don’t even
plan to do this for long. I’m gathering information.”

“I can’t handle the thought of you doing this, Moira. It’s not like you’re interviewing
people to get the story. You’re doing the job, and it’s not safe. Whatever protocols
you think are in place to protect you, they’re not enough.”

The sadness never left her eyes and now he saw a hint of worry. Worry was good. It
might be enough to protect her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and left without saying
anything else.

He paced the length of the room, feeling useless. He stared out the window as if he
could see Moira leave, watch for someone following her, but that too was useless.
The room didn’t even face the front of the hotel. Impatience tugged at him. Why hadn’t
Gabby called with an update?

He gripped his phone in his hand and forced himself not to dial. Gabby would call
as soon as she knew something. The phone buzzed and he answered.

“The tail is following Moira’s cab. Kittner wants you to stay put in case there’s
a second car.”

Right now, he didn’t give a fuck what Kittner wanted. He needed to make sure Moira
was safe.

“I know you care about her, Jimmy, but she got herself caught up in this. It’s not
necessarily a bad thing. She’ll be more forthcoming with information than some random
girl. We can use this to our advantage.” Gabby was right. He was thinking like a boyfriend,
not a cop undercover.

Fuck. If Moira had been any other girl, he would be using her, but this
was
Moira and they had a personal relationship. This was exactly what Kittner warned
him about. “I don’t like it. We still don’t know who we’re dealing with and what they’re
capable of. If something happens to her, the entire O’Leary clan will descend on me
and the whole department. It’ll be ugly.”

Gabby laughed. “We’ll make sure she stays safe.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do? I don’t have any clothes or anything. I’m stranded
in this room until Walker arranges a key for his place.”

“I’ll go to your house and send some clothes and stuff to Walker’s by morning. In
the meantime, enjoy your night off.”

She disconnected and he flopped back on the bed. He called home and let Norah know
he wouldn’t be home tonight, but that Gabby would be dropping by. She assured him
she’d keep an eye on Dad. He should feel more relief knowing that, but since he was
still so worried about Norah and her pregnancy, the turnaround he’d witnessed just
confused him.

For once, it would be great if things in his life would go the way he planned. This
was supposed to be the year things would smooth out and he’d move forward. Instead,
he was hit with one twist or turn after another.

Moira had the cab drive her back near the escort office so she could pick up her car.
When she’d left the hotel, a flurry of emotions stormed through her. For every step
she made with Jimmy, it felt like he’d given her a shove back.

She’d believed something shifted between them when they’d spoken on the phone last
night. He’d taken the time to actually read her work. Jimmy understood her more than
she’d given him credit for. She thought he understood how important her career was
to her.

She’d allowed people to make jokes about her job for so long that she’d forgotten
how much she did love it. When was the last time she talked seriously about writing
with anyone? Jimmy had been the first person she could remember wanting to share that
part of herself with.

Yeah, she had it bad. And it no longer felt like the teenage crush she’d always harbored.

And then tonight he ruined all the progress. She must’ve only been a good writer when
she covered safe topics like abandoned animals.

He’d actually called her stupid.

The cab pulled up in front of the building and Moira stepped out. She glanced up to
the office and debated going in to see Billie. At some point, she’d have to let Billie
know who she left the party with. It was too much for her right now.

“Excuse me,” a soft, elegant female voice called from the curb. Moira turned and tried
not to swallow her tongue. It was the mystery woman she’d been looking for, leaning
against a sleek sedan. Moira cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“My name is Gail. You’re Grace, right?” The woman spoke with confidence, the question
just a formality.

Moira nodded, feeling quite uncomfortable with this woman knowing her name, fake or
not. She had to have followed Moira in the cab, which meant she’d followed her and
Jimmy when they left the party. How did they not notice?

Gail pushed back her auburn hair, darker red than Moira’s, and tilted her head. Light
brown eyes focused on her. “I don’t mean to alarm you. I spoke with some of your colleagues
at the party and they passed on your name.”

Moira waited. She pictured Jimmy playing James Buchanan and masked her expression
as best she could, but her heart slammed in her chest.

“I can’t help but feel we’ve met before.”

Moira swallowed hard, grateful for the long shadows on the street. Even with the disguise,
Gail might be able to put two and two together. “I don’t think so.” She pulled her
keys from her purse. “Was there something else?”

“You left the event with James Buchanan.”

Moira straightened her back. “I don’t think it’s any of your business who I left the
party with.”

Gail waved her hand as if Moira needn’t answer, and then stepped closer. “I wasn’t
asking. What I’d really like to know is whether you have a personal or business relationship
with Mr. Buchanan.”

Moira summoned every ounce of courage she had. She cocked an eyebrow and pointed up
at the building behind her, where Billie’s office was located. “Like I have time for
personal relationships?”

Gail smiled then and a scheming look came into her eyes. “If you think Mr. Buchanan
will be contacting you again for your services, I might have a proposition for you.”

Intrigued, Moira stepped closer to Gail and lowered her voice. “I know he’ll be calling
me. He made sure to get my number and asked when I’d be available.”

“Do you already have plans?”

Moira shook her head. Her heart continued to pound and her palms were sweaty. She
had no idea where this conversation was going or what the right answers were. “He’s
supposed to call me tomorrow.” Moira paused, remembering what she knew of the other
victims in Jimmy’s case. “His wife is out of town, and he’s trying to squeeze in all
the fun he can.”

“Perfect.” She held out a business card. “Call me when you set up the date with Mr.
Buchanan. You will be compensated well for your help.”

Moira took the card. “I’m not doing anything illegal like drugging him or blackmailing
him. This is just a job to me like anything else. No one is worth going to jail for.”

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Then why are you so interested in . . . James?” Shit. She’d almost said Jimmy.

“We’ll talk more when you call me.” Then she spun on her incredibly high heel and
returned to her car.

It was like something out of a movie. Secret meetings, hidden agendas. This might
be the information Jimmy needed for his case. A nervous flurry skittered through her
body. Moira raced to her car. She needed to see Jimmy.

No, she couldn’t see Jimmy, especially if Gail continued to follow her. Plus, she
didn’t know where Jimmy would be. Probably still at the hotel. She flipped the business
card between her fingers. No name, no identification, only a phone number.

As she sat behind the wheel, a wave of nausea rolled through her. Taking a deep breath,
she started the engine and blasted the air-conditioning. The unexpected meeting had
her so rattled her hands shook.

Being undercover definitely wasn’t her strong suit.

How did Jimmy do this without having a nervous breakdown? She closed her eyes again
and focused on Jimmy. Always cool, controlled. Those were words that didn’t apply
to her.

Thoughts of Jimmy in cop mode kind of turned her on again. As much as she didn’t like
being bossed around—she’d had more than enough of that growing up—his demands stirred
something besides the usual resentment in her. A chill shivered down her back, so
she turned the air down. That had to be the cause. She pulled out into traffic and
headed home. She’d calm her body and her imagination and then she’d call Jimmy.