Confess (The Blue Line Series Book 1) Page 10

  The way most men constantly needed to be reassured in bed made her sick. In fact, she’d never made it past foreplay and oral before a guy would ask if she was all right and her geek-dar would send her running from the bedroom.

  Mitch didn’t ask for permission. He took complete control, leaving her no room to question or fear. And the best part--the clincher for her--was he didn’t ask for anything more than sex.

  His fingers slipped off her arm, his prints burned into her skin. “I still owe you eggs.”

  “Forget the damn eggs,” she breathed. A glance around the bar proved what she already knew. The night was a complete loss tip wise. Charlie would forgive her if she left, eventually, and Connie wouldn’t mind the extra tips.

  Driven by a need to know just how far Mitch planned to take her, she tossed her bar apron on the counter. “Meet me out back in five.”

  ***

  Five minutes stood between him and holding the woman who made him feel irritated and ignited at the same time. Five minutes might as well have been an eternity in hell the way he was feeling watching her disappear behind the swinging door to the kitchen.

  “Buck up, Cowboy.” Connie slid a drink to a customer and leaned over with a wicked smile. “You’re not the one she’s leaving behind to fend off the drunks.”

  “Sorry about that.” He broke out his best forgive-me smile.

  Connie poured two beers at once. “You make her happy, so I’ll forgive you. But one wrong step with my girl Lace-”

  “Message received. She’s in good hands.”

  He half expected Connie to crack a smile and lay some sophisticated threat on his life, but she went for the guilt trip instead. “She better be because good hands isn’t something that girls had a lot of experience with. You’d better be the real deal.”

  He saluted and tossed a healthy tip on the bar to make up to Connie for stealing Lacy and spun on his stool in time to catch Stetson cruse through the front door already leaning on the walls for support. Stuck between Lacy’s guard-dog best friend and the nightmare kid with the hard-on for his girl, he sighed and slid off the stool.

  He’d been on the lookout for the kid at the chief’s party but even the chief had enough taste to avoid him.

  Not tonight. Stetson would have to be Connie’s or the bouncer’s problem. And the sliver of guilt he had over the thought vanished with a glance back to the bar and Connie dressed in head to toe black leather with a dog collar around her neck.

  Connie could take care of Connie. No guilt needed.

  Now he just had to get by the kid without starting something and leaving Lacy waiting. He ducked his head as he passed, hoping to avoid a confrontation, but Stetson spotted him through the crowd of women and staggered over.

  “Hey. I know you.”

  Mitch plastered a smile on his face and forced his voice to sound light. “Yeah, man. I’m sure you do.” He patted the boy’s shoulder and pushed passed, letting the crowd separate them.

  The bouncer, a large guy in a button down western shirt and jeans swung the door open when Mitch approached. Almost the clean getaway he’d hoped for until Stetson yelled at his back. “No man. I really do think I know you.”

  Mitch slipped out and around the brick wall to the parking lot. He had much better things to do than get into another scrap-up with the kid. He’d just rounded the second corner to the back of the bar when he first heard the footsteps at his back. Too heavy to be a woman. Too unsteady to be anyone trying to kill him. He spun in time to catch the flash of white in the darkness.

  Stetson.

  The kid jerked to a stop an inch from Mitch’s chest. His sour breath blew across Mitch’s face. “I do know you. You’re that kid. The one with the dead girl. Or,” he rubbed shaking hands over his face leaving streaks of red on his cheeks, “I mean, you were that kid. The one in the woods who found the dead girl. You’re him.”

  Mitch’s stomach clinched. He locked his jaw and spoke slow through clenched teeth. “How would you know about that?”

  Stetson’s smile widened, and his eyes danced in the thin veil of light from the street lamp. “We studied the case in criminal law at the community college. You were a legend. The biggest fuck-up ever. Let some little kid run off into the woods knowing a killer was out there waiting.” He laughed, one beat and harsh.

  “What makes you think that was me?” Not even Andrews, the man who’d comforted him, who’d been the only one to give him any attention at all during those long hours after Sadie’s body had been found recognized him. He’d taken on his mother’s last name to distance himself as far as possible from the boy who killed his cousin. Even with a new name and thirteen years of hard won manhood on him, the chief should have seen through to the kid.

  Mitch repeated his question, slower this time. “What makes you think I’m him?”

  Stetson’s face sunk. “I didn’t until some guy at a bar suggested it.”

  Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. He stepped closer. The tension on his face readable. His hand itched to gather the slack in Stetson’s collar and shove the guy against the brick wall. Oh what the hell, the kid deserved a little rough handling. He fisted Stetson’s shirt and lifted him off the ground. “What guy? What bar?”

  Stetson’s eyes widened as his back hit the bricks. “The biker bar on the highway, Bullets. I didn’t get the guys name, but he’s there all the time. He’s a cop or something. Henry or something like that.”

  “Helms maybe?”

  “I don’t know.” The kid laughed. “It’s not like we go by names there or anything. Just some guy.”

  He wanted to ask for details. Get a mental picture of the guy before he stormed down there and checked him out, but in the darkness, metal scraped the brick. In seconds Lacy would walk out the back door of Charlie’s, and the last thing Mitch wanted her to see was Stetson.

  He dropped Stetson’s shirt and straightened the collar. “Go home kid, you’re wasted.”

  “Not too wasted to put a make on you.” Stetson’s head tilted in Lacy’s direction. “She doesn’t know, does she? Wonder what she’ll think about you when someone finally tells her?”

  Mitch ground his teeth. He wanted to grab the kid again. This time give him a good shake. Maybe even knock some sense loose.

  Lacy appeared from the shadows, and he thought better of manhandling the kid. “If you like breathing, she won’t find out.”

  Stetson’s eyes watered with the dull haze of alcohol. He gave Lacy a quick glance, pushed off the wall, and stalked back to the bar with a grunt of disapproval.

  “What’d he want?” Lacy stopped at Mitch’s side. Even in the darkness, Mitch could tell she’d taken time to freshen her make-up and hair and something citrus scented radiated off her skin.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He turned to her and stepped forward until her back pressed into the wall. “He knows your mine now. He won’t be back.”

  “Yours?” She laughed. She reached for his shoulders. “I don’t belong to anyone, Mitch Kilpatrick. Least of all domineering troublemakers like you.”

  “Oh.” He bit the side of his lip to keep from grinning. Just like last night, the urge to take her in the parking lot proved almost too much to avoid. He pressed his knee between the apex of her thigh and was rewarded with the growing heat of her arousal. “You are mine. Body and soul. No one else’s. Mine.”

  “Re—” She started to protest, but the words were lost when his mouth closed over hers.

  He kissed her hard and deep, letting the firm feel of her under his lips melt away the anger from Stetson’s accusations.

  Mitch let his hands roam her, feeling her. Taking her in one fingerful at a time until he’d claimed every part of her with his touch. Only then did he stop kissing her long enough to speak. “For the foreseeable future, Angel, you belong to me. Understand?”

  Her mouth hung open in a half pout, half shocked expression, and her gaze stayed glued on his, but she managed to nod.

  He smiled and smoot
hed loose hair from her face with his thumb. She’d given in easy enough this time, but Lacy was a fighter. It wouldn’t always be this easy, and he’d have to be creative with taming her. “Now. What did you have in mind?”

  She pressed her chest into him. “Breakfast. I’m starved.”

  “Breakfast?” He growled under his breath. “I just kissed the hell out of your mouth and you’re first thought is food?”

  “Not exactly my first thought.” Her gaze dropped to his inseam, and he felt himself bulge. “But I have a feeling I’m going to need the stamina.”

  She turned to walk away, and her ass swayed, mocking him under too-tight shorts. No man should have to put up with that much temptation and teasing without responding. He reached a hand out and smacked her, hard, on the left ass cheek.

  Lacy scrambled to cover her ass with a cupped hand and turned.

  For a second, his heart stopped, fear clenched his throat, but there was a smile lingering playfully under her pouting lips. “What the hell was that for?”

  “That’s for playing games, Angel.”

  “Oh. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

  Breakfast wasn’t what Mitch had in mind when Lacy suggested meeting behind the bar, but when she insisted, he couldn’t say no.

  “The diner is only two blocks away and it’s a nice night. We can walk.” Lacy tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled that down-home-back-country smile that unraveled him where he stood.

  God, she made him melt from the inside out. Made him want to slow down, take things easy. Enjoy himself and the limited time they had together. Not the feeling he was used to having around women, but he didn’t hate it.

  The five blocks that encompassed downtown were mostly comprised of boarded up buildings with the occasional little boutique or struggling restaurant. He could see Lacy leading the charge to revitalize downtown so she and Connie could open their wine bar here; a sheik little hole-in-the-wall with mix matched glasses and high end appetizers. He could even see himself talking up prime real state at the bar on a favored stool.

  Every third streetlight was dark, leaving pockets of blinding darkness along the sidewalk.

  They passed a small billiards bar with music thumping from the open doors followed by cattle calls thrown at Lacy.

  Mitch’s fists balled in reflex.

  “Calm down, Cowboy.” Lacy dropped her hand to cover his. “It’s innocent fun. They’re regulars at the bar.”

  Fun wasn’t what any of the guys whistling from the open bar windows had in mind. He passed with a possessive stare. “Tell me you don’t walk here at night, alone?”

  “Okay.” She grabbed one of his fists and loosened his fingers enough to slide her palm inside his. “I won’t tell you.”

  With his grunt of disapproval, she added, “Seriously lighten up, Detective. It’s Rebel Rapids, and I’m practically royalty. No one in their right mind would mess with the chief’s daughter. Not when everyone in town knows everyone else.”

  He was ready to give her a reality check when she flashed her sarcastic little grin in his direction and pulled a mini can of police issued pepper spray from her pocket. “Besides, I’m packing heat.”

  “You like pissing me off, don’t you?” His voice lowered.

  She tugged on his hand and pulled him under the overhang of a diner door. “Pissing you off is a dangerous sport, but I’ve found the rewards can be worth the risk.”

  He couldn’t answer before she swung the door open and sauntered in, swaying her tight body as she passed.

  Dangerous sport indeed, but somehow he doubted she was the losing kind.

  Lacy slid into a booth in the back and plopped a menu from the holder on the table down in front of him. “McDougall’s is a Rebel Rapids staple. The cook’s amazing. Been here as long as I’ve been alive.”

  “That’s not very long.” He couldn’t help the stab. Her age hadn’t been an issue for him. She was younger by a few years, but what she lacked in experiences, she more than made up for in willingness.

  “Is it my age that bothers you, or the fact that you’ve been whipped by a younger woman?”

  Wow, Lacy was coming out all swings and hits tonight. The sassy little country girl sitting across from him pissed him the hell off and turned him on at the same damn time. His erection wedged against his zipper.

  “Whipped?” He grinned. “I seem to remember someone else getting whipped tonight. By my hand.”

  Her boot toe raked up his lower leg. “I’m kidding, Cowboy. You’re not that old.” She smiled. “I get punch drunk this time of night. I can’t help it.”

  The redheaded waitress finished topping off a mug at a booth in front and made her way over. She put two mugs on the table and filled them before producing a pencil from her hairdo and taking their order.

  Lacy spoke up before Mitch had a chance. “Two specials, extra side of bacon for mine.” She grinned at Mitch. “And eggs for him. The guy has a thing about eggs.”

  He wasn’t used to a woman taking control, but he had to admit he enjoyed watching Lacy giving orders. As long as she knew in his bedroom, the only orders given would come from him.

  The waitress scribbled down the order and gave him a once over that earned her a prudent stare from Lacy. Jealous.

  Lacy had no reason to be, but he couldn’t discount the thought added to his already heightened sexual state.

  “So how old are you, anyway?” Lacy redirected her attention to him. She cocked her head to the side, making her hair pool on one shoulder.

  “Twenty eight,” he answered.

  “Too young to be so serious.”

  Her lips tightened into a smart smirk that made him want to pop her behind, again. Maybe they’d have to make this a thing; Lacy’s forwardness grating on his nerves and he correcting her with a smack on the ass.

  “Why Rebel Rapids?”

  “Why Rebel Rapids, what?” The way she jumped from one subject to another kept his head in a constant spin cycle. He’d no sooner stop to fantasize about the many ways he could keep her in line, then she’d jump to a new topic. He had to rally to catch up.

  “I’m sure there are bigger cases in Nashville in need of your super detective sleuthing skills. Why’d you pick to come here?”

  “I didn’t pick. I was assigned.”

  Her gaze narrowed on him. “Nashville doesn’t assign officers to Rebel. Or, if they did, it was penance for a massive mistake. Detective’s like you don’t end up on small town witch hunts unless they’ve fucked up royally somehow.” She sipped her coffee, her eyes heavy but thoughtful over the rim of the mug.

  He hadn’t noticed before, but the way she looked at him, the soft expression on her face, she’d let her guard down if just a hair, and fallen into a comfortable rhythm with him. The sudden need to curl her body up against his chest and protect her unnerved him.

  “Now who’s the perceptive one?” A low grumbled laugh rose from his throat. “The truth is I fucked up royally.”

  Her eyes flashed wide, mocking. “Really? You?”

  “Emotionally unavailable got thrown around the department a few times. You’d think being able to detach yourself from emotions would be a good thing in my line of work but people complained.”

  The waitress returned with their food, saving him from having to dig deeper into a lie he already hated throwing between them. She dropped both plates to the table and winked at Mitch before walking away.

  He checked Lacy’s reaction and found her frowning and shaking her head at the waitress’s turned back. “She’s got nothing on you.” He doubted anyone in the state of Tennessee could even come close, but he’d keep that to himself, for now.

  “Don’t change the subject. How did you mess up?”

  Mitch stabbed his eggs and brought the full fork to his lips. “That’s a story for another time.” He sank the hot food in his mouth.

  “How do you expect me to sleep with you if I don’t know all your secrets?” Her toe ventured up
his leg again, this time working up to his outer thigh.

  “I told you before, Angel. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  Her lips curled. “That’s right. You’re a finisher. I remember.” She pressed the sharp toe of her boot between his knees, and he let them fall to the sides, challenging her to keep moving forward. “So finish the story. What brought you here?”

  “A mistake.” Lacy had his body tight and his brain loose. She could ask him just about anything right now, and he’d tell her the truth as long as she kept her foot pressed to his leg.

  “What kind of mistake?” She ran her toe down his inner thigh, stopping at his inseam. He reached under the table and pulled the boot free from her foot. Above the Formica tabletop, her gaze connected with his. Below, her toes flanked his growing length and massaged. If she kept it up, he’d have one hell of a walk of shame out of the diner when he came in his jeans. Hell, it might even be worth it. He shifted to give her a better hold.

  Mitch eyed the bathroom, a unisex one-stall box in the back of the restaurant. It could work in a pinch.

  “So.” Her voice was silk. “Tell me. How’d a guy as controlled as you fuck up royally?”

  “I let a murder get to me.” His body flexed at her touch. He’d never admitted as much to anyone, including himself. Lacy had a dangerous effect on him. He could get lost in her and forget why he’d come to Rebel Rapids in the first place. He could let Sadie’s killer walk again if he wasn’t careful.

  “So you’re more than just a macho, chauvinistic detective? You’re passionate. I can see how that would happen. But I wouldn’t call that emotionally unavailable. Something else must have happened.”

  It felt like she’d taken a fist full of his armor and pealed it back to expose a part of him he’d rather stayed untouched. He leaned in over the table, sparring to regain control of the conversation in the only way he knew how with Lacy. “Your smart mouth is asking for all kinds of trouble, you know that right?”

  She grinned over a crisp slice of bacon. “Exactly what kind of trouble are we talking about here, Detective? Are you going to spank me again?”