Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (23 page)

Chapter Twelve

Joshua

“Oh, Joshua!” She screams out my name as we explode in each other’s arms and her orgasm seems to go on forever as she clings to me, her fingernails digging into the flesh of my back as her enchanting green eyes never waver from mine. Fuck, yes!
Say my name, baby!
I collapse on top of her, my face buried in the crook of her neck as we struggle to catch our breath. I can feel her body tremble with aftershocks, and each time, it makes my cock twitch inside of her.

I have never had sex like this before in my life. It’s always been good. Fantastic even. But it just seems to be so much more intense with Samantha. So much more … powerful and … emotional? I can’t explain it. This woman has done things to me that I don’t understand, and it is so much more than physical. I thought that’s all it was. I thought once I’d fucked her I would get whatever this is out of my system but, that hasn’t proven true. Being with her has only seemed to make me want her more. I can’t get enough of her. Even now … even after taking her in the kitchen and again up against the wall in the hallway as we made our way to the bedroom … lying here in her bed still buried deep inside her, I can feel my desire for her building again already. This is crazy. It’s like she has me under some kind of spell.

I slowly pull out of her and remove my condom, tossing it to the floor near our discarded clothing. Then I take her into my arms and roll over onto my back, bringing her with me. I thread my fingers in her silky, sweet-smelling hair as my other arm tightens around her waist and she snuggles in close to me, her head resting on my chest. God, this feels good.
She
feels so good in my arms and I find myself wishing that this could last forever. My sentiments are echoed in the song that’s just ending on her iPod in the background – the voice of an angel asking if she can hold her love and look into his eyes forever. A question that I have been silently asking myself all night long. But I know that I’m only fooling myself if I think the answer is yes. There is no way that this can work.

As I hold her close to me, my mind can’t help but wander back over our dinner conversation and her subtle reminders that we are from two different worlds. Studying in Paris? A house on Martha’s Vineyard? I shake my head slightly, feeling discouraged as I look up at the ceiling. There is no way this girl will want to be with me for long. I know that she is slumming right now and I’m just some exciting walk on the wild side for her. A sexy story she can tell her rich girlfriends about how she lost her virginity. I frown to myself as I struggle to understand why that thought makes me so uneasy.

The next song on her iPod begins to play and I take in the words as I listen, my fingers still playing in her hair. It’s a song I’ve never heard before but the lyrics seem cosmically suited to this moment in time, a lovely female voice singing about how wrong it is that she’s lying here right now but she just can’t stay away from her lover.

“That’s an appropriate song,” I mutter absentmindedly, speaking only to myself, and Sam utters a soft knowing sigh. “Who is that?” I ask her.

“The Veronicas,” she answers quietly, offering no further information, and I continue to listen to the words of the song thinking about how they perfectly describe this situation I’ve gotten myself into.

“Josh?” Her voice is soft and hesitant and it brings me back to the now.

“Yes,” I answer.

“What are we doing here?” she asks softly, and I’m not sure I understand her question. “Two nights ago you said that this couldn’t happen because of my case. And yet, here we are.” She sounds as confused as I feel.

I sigh heavily, kissing the top of her head. “I know what I said two nights ago, Samantha. And I tried to comply with that. I really did. I have stepped so far over the line with you, I can’t even see the line anymore. But I just … could not make myself stay away from you,” I say, echoing the words of the song.

She leans up on her elbow and looks down at me, her bright green eyes boring into mine. “Do you regret it?” she asks me sadly. And I get the feeling she’s dreading my answer.

“No, Sam,” I reply without hesitation. “I don’t regret it for a minute.” She smiles and I think I see relief in her eyes.

“Will you get in trouble for this?” she asks me with a sudden look of concern.

I nod slightly. “I could be reprimanded for it. Even written up if my lieutenant happens to be in the right mood when he finds out.
If
he finds out. But the real trouble would be in damaging my reputation at the precinct and compromising the integrity of this case.”

Her expression grows more grave as she looks down at me. “I don’t want you to get into trouble,” she says quietly, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s getting at. Is this her way of ending it? It’s a nice, neat excuse. One that doesn’t make her sound like a shallow rich girl just looking for a wild ride.
Knock it off, Pierce. You know that’s not what this girl is about. You’re just angry because you’re about to get the boot. Suck it up. You knew this couldn’t work out anyway, not with your fucked up issues.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, a slight bitter hint to my voice. “It’s my problem, not yours.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head slightly. “It’s our problem.” I frown at her words and she continues. “I mean … I’ll do whatever you want me to in order to keep anyone you work with from finding out about us.”

She is gazing at me, waiting on a response I think. Only I’m still waiting for the kiss off to come. But she doesn’t say anything else. She just looks at me. And I blink at the realization that she’s not ending this. Not yet anyway. I reach up and run my fingers lightly across her forehead, moving a wayward strand of her beautiful brown hair out of her eyes. “Sweet Sam,” I whisper. She smiles and leans down and kisses me lightly on the lips. Then she lowers her head to my chest again and snuggles close, prompting me to tighten my arms around her once more.

We lay this way in silence for a long time, the only sound in the room the softly playing music in the background. Janet Jackson explaining how love goes. I frown again. “That’s quite an eclectic mix on your iPod,” I say with mock disapproval and she giggles. It is such a lovely sound and it makes me smile.

“My tastes are all over the place,” she says by way of explanation. “I don’t care about genres or generations. I just love great music.” I nod, kissing the top of her head and inhaling deeply. “What about you, mister musician? What type of music do you prefer?”

I chuckle at her, squeezing her to me once more. “Well, I am the lead guitarist in a metal cover band in my spare time so … I think you can probably deduce my tastes. And let’s get this out of the way right now, all right? Just so you know, in my opinion, Aerosmith is
the
greatest rock band ever.”

“Ever,” she says sarcastically, and I can tell she is laughing at me.

“Ever,” I reply definitively. Her giggling continues. “Oh, and Slash is clearly God.”

“Slash?” Her tone is incredulous. “Not Joe Perry? I’m shocked,” she says, still giggling.

“Yes, Slash,” I say laughing. And I realize that I’ve laughed a lot tonight with her. In fact, I don’t ever remember laughing so much. It feels good. “I get the feeling you disagree?” I ask with a smile.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I guess I’ve never really been into rock much.”

“Hmm. Well clearly I’m going to have to enlighten you a little bit,” I say with a quiet smile, “or this relationship is doomed before it even begins.” She gasps softly and raises up onto her elbow again, looking down at me.

“Is this a relationship, Josh?” she asks softly. “I mean … is that what you want?”

I am surprised, both by her question and by the level of hope I hear in her voice. Is she for real? Is this incredible, amazing young woman – this beautiful goddess who could have any man she ever thought about wanting – is she really implying she wants to pursue a relationship with me?
Me?
A fucked up grease monkey with a badge. And my heart starts to pound as I wonder … what the hell do I tell her? How do I answer that question? Is that what I want? A relationship? The very thing I have avoided all my adult life. If I say no, I’m certain that this will end right here tonight. But, what if I say yes and I end up hurting her?
Physically
hurting her someday?

I think my hesitation upsets her and she sits up abruptly, moving to the edge of the bed as if she’s about to stand. And I can tell from the look on her lovely face that she’s near tears. “Sam, wait,” I say urgently, sitting up and moving over to her. Tentatively, I wrap my arms around her waist and gently turn her to face me. I place a hand beneath her chin and lift her face to mine so I can look into her eyes. I swallow nervously and say, “You don’t understand. Yes,” I tell her earnestly, “a relationship is what I want.”
Did I just say those words out loud?
“But you have to remember that this is all new for me. I have never done this before. And I will be honest with you, Samantha,” I say looking deep into her eyes as my heart continues to pound in my chest. “This scares the hell out of me!”

“But I don’t understand why, Josh,” she says sadly, her voice small and uncertain. “Why have you never wanted a relationship before? And please don’t get angry with me for asking. But I need to know.”

She is looking at me with the saddest eyes I think I’ve ever seen and it makes me hate myself. But I can feel my jaw tighten and I know that I have to fight back the anger and the bile rising in my throat right now. “Samantha … it’s complicated. I can’t explain that to you right now,” I say through clenched teeth and her sadness deepens. “Please, Sam,” I say caressing her face with my hand. “All that’s important right now is that my answer to your question is yes. I do want a relationship with you. Please … can’t that be enough for now?”

I wait with bated breath for her to answer me, staring into her magical green eyes, so full of sadness and uncertainty. Finally she nods her head, and I let out a heavy sigh of relief and take her into my arms, holding her tightly. I know that at some point, I am going to have to come clean to her. Tell her exactly why relationships scare the shit out of me. But I know that when I do it will end. There’s no way in hell she will ever want to stay with me once she knows what’s in my genes, in my family history. Once she learns all about the illustrious Danny Pierce and the legacy he left me, she will walk … no, she will
run
away and never look back. And I can’t say I blame her. She’d be crazy not to.

Fuck.
I should never have let it get this far; I should just do us both a favor and walk away now. But even as the thought floats through my mind I know that I won’t. I can’t. There is something about this girl that calls to me on some deep, basic level and I can’t even begin to understand it, but I know without a doubt that I will do just about anything to be with her for as long as she will have me. Maybe that makes me a selfish bastard.
Fitting
. Another fine personality trait passed down from Danny Pierce.

Samantha slowly pulls away from my arms and looks at me. She smiles slightly but I can still see the trace of sadness and uncertainty behind her eyes and I wish I knew what to say or do to make that go away. I swallow nervously again.

“Is it okay if I go grab a glass of water?” I ask her.

“Of course,” she says softly. “In fact, I’ll go get it for you.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I want to grab my gun anyway. I left it in the kitchen. Makes me uneasy,” I say as I stand.

I bend and kiss the top of her head and venture, naked, out to the kitchen where I’ve left my gun in its holster at the dining room table. I grab the holster and turn toward the fridge when I see Samantha enter the kitchen. She’s wearing nothing but my discarded black shirt and she looks so damn fine, her long brown hair all tousled and sexy. I watch in silence as she takes out a small tray and then opens the fridge and gathers a bowl of fresh strawberries and small container of cream. She places them both on the tray and then pulls out two bottles of water and places them on the tray as well. I grab the small vase that holds the single rose and set it on the tray as well and she looks up at me and smiles, her eyes holding no trace of the sadness that I saw there moments ago. I grin at her and reach out to caress her face, leaning down to kiss her.

“Let me get that,” I say, taking the tray from her, and I follow her back to the bedroom. As we reach the hallway I glance over to the staircase that I noticed the other morning and remember that I wanted to ask her about that. We enter the bedroom and I sit the tray down on the bed and my holster and gun on the floor beside me, and climb in, getting comfortable. “Hey, where does the staircase lead?” I ask, opening my bottle of water and taking a sip.

“Oh, there’s a whole second floor up there, with a bathroom and everything,” she says, taking the rose and setting the vase on her bedside table. “It’s this great open space, sort of like a loft, and I use it as a studio. I have all my art supplies up there; the light is perfect for painting,” she finishes with a smile.

“Wow, this place is bigger than I thought,” I mumble. But I decide not to dwell on our obvious social and economic differences right now and stay in friendlier territory. “A studio for painting, huh?” I ask, taking a strawberry and popping it into my mouth. She nods, looking at me shyly and then she blushes a little, lowering her eyes. It makes me smile and I remember my own discomfort when she interrogated me about the guitar. “Oh, no you don’t, Miss Colby,” I say jokingly. “You don’t get to play all shy and embarrassed with me. Not after you put me on the hot seat about my guitar playing.”

She giggles and licks a bit of cream from her thumb. “What do you want to know?” she asks softly and I grin.

“Well, back at you,” I say with an indignant smile. “Are you any good?” It’s the same question she asked me earlier and she blushes even more.

Then she takes deep breath and lets out a sigh and bites her lower lip. Damn, she is such a sweet young thing. I want to be inside her again.
Concentrate on what she’s saying, Pierce.
“Well … yes and no,” she says with a frown. “I mean, sort of … maybe.” She is so cute; I chuckle at her lack of confidence.