Chance Collision (14 page)

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Authors: C.A. Szarek

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

BOOK: Chance Collision
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Yes, she should have. Then again, if she
had
, he wouldn’t have been able to taste Nikki. Hold her, kiss her like he’d been dying to all day.

Dumbass, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt if Lee had been there. What’s happening to me?

Sucking in a breath, he banished the internal monologue and ordered himself to get it together.

“Well, in your defence, I did chase you off. I knew he’d followed us when I took her to her apartment, but I wasn’t able to spot him. I was a fool to think we were safe.”

“Not a fool. But hey, now it’s one down, one to go.”

Pete managed a small laugh. “I know it. I guess I should thank the guy before we cuff him?”

“Yeah…about that…” Lee’s eyebrows were knitted.

“What is it?”

“I called Downs to brief him when Lucas told us who we’re up against.”

“And?”

“My partner said pretty much the same thing as Lucas about our dude. Ruthless. But he also gleaned some info from the inside this morning. There’s been some more movement. We were right about something.”

“Vying for second in command?”

“Yup. I knew you were a bright one.” Lee flashed a smile.

“I hear a
but
.”

“Got me again, Detective.” She nodded. “Luciano Marchetti won’t come quietly. If he fails to kill Berto—like he failed with the guy’s wife—he doesn’t have much to go back to. Plus my gut tells me Caselli’s gonna be pissed about Donati. Blood’s thicker than water and all that.”

“Right. So this is Marchetti’s final chance, right?”

“That’s what me and Downs think. I’m sure Lucas will agree when we conference in the morning.”

“So we’re looking at a shootout—at best.”

“I don’t see him offing himself, so yeah.”

Pete sighed and reclined back. “We’ll be careful. And bring a body bag.”

“I like the way you think.”

“Cole’s always said you were a badass.” He winked.

“I prefer the term
practical
.” Lee laughed. “Besides, you said it, not me.”

He smirked and Lee chuckled again.

Chapter Fourteen

Pete sighed and rolled over. He’d woken from the third naked-Nikki dream, hard and aching, unable to banish his memories. No matter he’d decided that was exactly what he needed to do.

The leather couch creaked as he shifted his weight, willing his cock to soften.
Nada.
Ignored all commands. Throbbed for attention. But not from
his
hand.

Releasing a breath, he lay flat on his back. His stupid blanket was tented. He stared at the vaulted ceiling of his living room. Better than the safe house?

Hell no. Nikki’s in your bed. And you are not.

Trying to make himself think like a cop, he rewound the evening in his head. Unfortunately, the first thing that popped up was Nikki’s soft bare skin. Her taste on his tongue. Her feel beneath his fingertips. She’d been so wet for him. Tight. Hot. She’d come hard, her sex squeezing his fingers like a glove.

His cock pulsed.

“Dammit.” Pete punched the back of his couch. “Seriously, think of something else.”

Be. A. Cop.

Closing his eyes, he put himself back in the house on Montgomery. Heard the gunshots, heard the window shatter. The door had exploded like a bomb. Instant sensory overload.

He’d jumped off the couch and pulled his forty-calibre SIG, ordering Nikki to cover. When she’d screamed, his heart had stopped. Pete had squeezed the trigger to return fire, only to find her unconscious halfway behind the couch.

Blood. All he’d seen was
her
blood.

When the bastard had shown himself, they’d entered stand-off territory. Pete had recognised Mickey Donati immediately. His first thought at seeing the guy alone was that Luciano Marchetti must be at the rehab centre to finish off Gram. Thank God that hadn’t been true.

Marchetti had been ballsy—killing Donati and not even taking one shot at Pete or Nikki.

I told you to stay away from this.

“What’s your game, Luca?” The impression he’d got from Cole was that his partner’s husband hadn’t known the guy really well. Hopefully he’d still have an insight.

Sitting up and stretching, Pete swallowed back a yawn and pushed his shoulders into the cushions of the couch. The house made a settling noise and he looked around his living room. There was nothing, no danger, but as his eyes swept the large room, he couldn’t help but feel an emptiness in his gut.

He’d had the big house built when he’d made detective at the age of twenty-four. Naïvely, he’d imagined it filled with a family—someday.

Then he’d broken up with the first serious girlfriend he’d had after college. Less than two months after he’d moved in. She’d never set foot in the door. Turned down his marriage proposal as well as his home.

That’d sealed the deal. Changed his mind about wanting
things
for himself. For his life…his future.

He hated to admit it, but even years later, her rejection smarted. How could he have read her so wrong? He’d been devastated
.
Cara had ripped his heart into a million pieces. Then she’d put it in a blender and handed it back. He hadn’t had a relationship since then.

Pete didn’t see the wife and kids in the distant picture anymore. Besides, Andi and Ethan had always seemed enough, filling the void, even though they didn’t belong to him.

‘Everything happens for a reason.’ How many times had his brother, Nate, said that to him? Who was supposed to be the older brother, anyway? The guy sounded like their mother
way
too much.

The four-bedroom house was just a building filled with stuff he’d accumulated over the past ten years. Too big for one person, but it was his.

Shaking his head, Pete wandered into the kitchen. Sprawling and pristine, with stainless steel appliances, his kitchen was a cook’s dream. He hardly ever used the place. Preparing meals for one was depressing.

The breakfast nook sat barren in the corner, but he ignored it and opened the refrigerator. When nothing food-wise appealed, he closed the icebox, encased in the darkness of the room. Not even light from the street lamp leaked inside. The clock on the microwave said it was just past three.

Great, the morning was going to suck.

His feet took him up the stairs without thought. Pete paused on the top step. The room Lee slept in was at the end of the hall on the right. Farthest away from the master suite. The door was closed.

His office was made up in the smallest of the bedrooms, and it was to his immediate left. The door was open and the nightlight on the wall illuminated his desk in the corner. Usually left neat and tidy, as he didn’t spend much time there, preferring to use his laptop in the comfort of the recliner in the living room.

The silence could have swallowed him whole as he walked down the hall, staring at the door of his own bedroom.

Nikki’s in there. Go back downstairs.

But his hand turned the doorknob anyway.

She slept on her side facing away from him, her beautiful red hair loose and spread out on his pillows. His masculine black and blue striped comforter covered her, but one arm rested on top of it, as if she was too warm.

Pete stared, frozen just inside the room.

Nikki belonged in his bed.

Shaking himself, he hastily shut—and locked—his bedroom door.

Seriously, get out of here.

Evidently his conscience was in the off position, because Pete went over to the bed.

She was in a deep sleep, her breathing even, the rise and fall of her gorgeous breasts barely visible beneath his blanket. But he knew what they looked like. Craved touching them, touching her. Tasting her.

After staring down at her for what seemed like hours, he chided himself and scooted around to the other side of the king-sized bed—oddly enough, the normal side he slept on. He sat as gingerly as he could as to not disturb her.

What are you doing?

Pete sucked in a breath and covered his face with both hands. What an apropos question. But his conscience should have inserted a
hell
in there somewhere.

Nikki made a sound in her sleep and he stilled on the edge of the bed.

The rustle of the comforter and sheets made him close his eyes.

Go downstairs. Now.

“Pete?” Her whisper was heavy with sleep.

He couldn’t look at her.

More shifting of the bedding and Pete could feel the heat coming off her sleep-warmed body through his ribbed tank.

God, he wanted her. His cock jumped, making the crotch of his navy sweats move. The slight friction only made the ache in his balls worse.

“Is something wrong?”

Finally, he managed to shift his body and look at her. He propped his bent knee on the bed, sitting half on, half off. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice his britches. “No,” Pete croaked.

“Okay.” Nikki yawned.

Innocent. Adorable. Beautiful.

From the glow of the nightlight on the wall as well as the dim illumination coming in from the window, he could see her sleep-tousled red locks resting in waves around her shoulders, teasing him as much as her creamy skin did. Her pyjamas consisted of a skimpy pale green tank that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Not that you need imagination. You have a great memory.

His cock stood at attention all over again as he fantasised about what she had on below the blankets and how fast he could get it off her. “I should go. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“What time is it?”

“After three.”

“Oh. Late. Are you sure you’re all right?” She sat up and the comforter slipped to her waist, exposing the curve of her braless breasts through soft cotton. He could see the dark outline of her nipples.

“Yup,” Pete forced out, tearing his eyes away from what he shouldn’t look at.

As he went to stand, Nikki’s hand shot to his forearm. “Don’t go.”

“I need to.”

“Why?” Her brown gaze was earnest.

It’s the right thing to do.
But he couldn’t say the words when she looked at him like that.

He should open his mouth and apologise for what’d happened at the safe house—between them as well as the shooting. Needed to explain it couldn’t happen again. No kissing. No touching. And most definitely no sex. Which was exactly what would’ve happened if Caselli’s guys hadn’t burst in.

Pete had let his guard down and she’d been shot.
His fault.

Tell her all that. She deserves to know.

“It’s late. I really should go.”

“All the more reason to stay. It’s your bed after all.” She took a deep breath that had him gulping. Nikki lifted his comforter to invite him into his bed. “I don’t want to be alone.” The tremble in her voice made Pete snap to attention.

Honest vulnerability. Also his fault.

Nikki was scared, and he was the biggest jerk in the world.

Instead of pushing off the bed and leaving, Pete pulled his other leg up. He got under the covers beside her, his stomach fluttering at her smile.

“Pete…” His name on her lips was breathless as she moved closer to him.

His cock twitched.

“Y-y-yeah?” He cleared his throat.
Man up and keep your hands to yourself.

“Can you hold me?”

Shit. Kill. Me. Now.

* * * *

A knock jolted him awake. But something solid and warm kept him from sitting up. Light streamed in from his bedroom window and Pete cursed not drawing the curtains the night before. How had he forgotten that?

The sleepy female moan stirred his cock again. Nikki had her head on his chest, her arm flung across his middle like she owned him. Somehow the notion appealed, but then reality swallowed him whole.

Nikki was in his bed.

Shit. Shit.

When the night came barrelling back into his head, Pete blew out a breath. He hadn’t had sex with her. That he would have remembered. But holding her…falling asleep with her in his arms…it was right.

Knock knock.
This time it was more insistent.

Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he winced at the offensive time of five after six and gently disengaged himself from Nikki.

She sighed in her sleep and burrowed into his pillow. Pete smiled a little and wandered to his bedroom door. Braced himself for Lee.

He looked down and cursed his hard-on, willing it to soften. No juice. His cock was saying good morning.

Maybe she won’t notice. Yeah. Right.
His sweats made it pretty obvious.

“Sorry.” Lee looked him up and down, her gaze stopping for a split second below his waist.

Sonofa—
Hiding half behind the door hadn’t worked.

“I looked for you downstairs, but…” Her expression was chagrined, and her eyes darted everywhere but his face—and his crotch, of course.

Pete shifted on his feet anyway. Like his mom had caught him in bed with Nikki. “It’s not what it looks like,” he blurted.

“Uh. I needed a towel. About to take a shower, if that’s all right with you. None in the bathroom.” At least she looked at him, but Lee’s dark eyes called him a liar.

“Shit. Of course. Sorry, I don’t have any in there. Let me get you one from my bathroom.” Leaving the door ajar, he sprinted into his bathroom and grabbed two grey towels.

“Thanks,” Lee said.

“Welcome. Eggs in the fridge. I’ll make us something to eat in a few.”

She nodded, pausing as if she was going to say something.

“Really, it’s not what it looks like,” Pete said, swallowing back a wince at his defensive tone.

Lee gave a half-smile. “See you downstairs.”

He groaned as he closed the door.
Fuck. Today’s gonna be a blast.
Leaning on the cool wood, he shook his head. The hard door at his back bit into his shoulders. Instead of being an irritant, it felt good. Grounded him.

Should have never come into the room—even if Lee hadn’t been down the hall.

Nikki yawned and stretched, arching her back so he saw her breasts first.

Great, like morning wood needs more help.

She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Morning.” Her sleepy smile had his stomach fluttering. Nikki looked warm and happy and all he wanted to do was crawl back into his bed and hold her some more.

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