Chapter 8

Nathan let out a slow sigh and watched Jen sleep in his arms. She curled closer, nuzzling into the side of his neck.

He didn’t need a psychology degree to figure out what was going on here. Worrying about Tanner, rightly or wrongly, had shredded her to the point that she had fallen asleep on his couch with him, the security and safety he offered enough to push her into doing what she shouldn’t do. Another time and place would have her headed for the door, shouldering the pink backpack with a mischievous grin and wink.

But she was here.

With him.

He shifted his hips, his arousal from the session slowly waning and twisting into a slow burn. Usually he’d have raced to his bathroom within minutes of the door closing behind her but this…this was a totally different type of experience.

It was refreshing. It was—

Wonderful.

Her lips parted, and she exhaled, the light minty breeze drifting over his senses.

When he’d been married, he’d never felt this good.

This right.

This contented.

Problem was, he didn’t know what to do.

Wake her up from a much-needed sleep to help her out the door, or let her rest.

The cop side of his mind kicked in, pointing out it’d be unsafe to let her drive in such a dozy state. It would be wrong and dangerous.

The submissive part of his mind agreed and upped the ante, noting it was his job to keep her safe and letting her get some much-needed rest was obviously the right choice.

His entire mind knew he’d regret this, but it was well worth any punishment she’d deliver down the line.

She woke in near darkness, her head spinning. Her fingers clutched at the ground under her and found it soft and giving, bunching up in her grip.

A quilt.

I’m in a bed.

She drew a sharp breath and tried to remember driving home. A brief surge of panic threatened to overwhelm her, twisting her stomach into knots as she wondered if she’d suffered either some sort of accident or worse—had blanked out the entire trip home.

The last few minutes of consciousness rushed in on her, filling in the details.

Nathan.

This is not my bed.

This is Nathan’s bed.

The truth didn’t help her feel any better.

Jen cursed as she sat up too quickly and then lay down again, head spinning with the mild disorientation. While her head and stomach settled, she looked around. The dim light from the wrought iron lamps helped her adjust and see what was around her.

It was neat and tidy at first glance. A gray track suit lay neatly folded at the bottom of the king-sized bed, obviously intended for her.

The wooden headboard was deep rosewood. She reached up and stroked it, enjoying the smoothness. It matched the side tables and the dresser, the entire set giving the room an earthy feel.

She felt the comforter under her. Thick plushy goodness.

With her mind and body more settled, Jen sat up.

The pile of dirty clothing in the far corner of the room made her smile, the familiar track pants atop the stack announcing the owner.

Nathan.

She rubbed her eyes, feeling better and worse at the same time.

She was in his house.

In his bed.

But she couldn’t fault the results.

Jen stretched out her arms and yawned. It’d been a good sleep, a healing sleep, and she felt like she could take on the world.

The aroma of spaghetti sauce drifted in under the closed door, and her stomach growled with anticipation.

She stood and walked to the edge of the bed where the track suit lay.

Jen measured it against herself, finding it only slightly oversized. The soft material reminded her she’d fallen asleep in clothing definitely not intended to be slept in.

She pulled at the ends of her corset, wincing as she spotting the pink lines on her abdomen where the straps had cut into her skin. They’d fade with time, but she made a mental note never to fall asleep in her gear ever again.

It took a few minutes to strip off the corset and garters and to put them into the waiting pink backpack, a few more to pull on the large sweatshirt and matching pants. A quick tug at the string tightened the waistband to the point where she could walk without fear of them falling down.

Jen rubbed her arms, the soft fabric soothing her even as she berated herself.

You fell asleep.

In a client’s house.

Smooth move, idiot.

She straightened out the quilt and placed her backpack at the edge of the bed. Her cell phone lay on the side table within reach.

She picked the phone up and noted it’d been six hours since the end of their session.

Six hours?

Damn it.

The sad thing was she felt great. The deep sleep had replenished her lagging energy levels, her mind finally clear and quiet.

The realization didn’t make her feel much better.

Her stomach growled again, and she gave in to its demands.

Jen walked out of the room and headed down the hall. She passed the bathroom on the way to the stairs and looked in, noting the old-fashioned bathtub against the wall and the more modern shower stall beside it.

She followed the delicious smell down the stairs to the kitchen, where Nathan was finishing setting two places on the marble island taking up most of the kitchen. A small breakfast nook sat off to one side, unused. Freshly showered and dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, he hummed a jaunty tune as he turned to her.

“Hey. I was about to come up and get you.” He smiled. “Lasagna is almost ready. Just putting out the salad.” He paused. “You do eat salad, right?”

“I eat everything.” Jen rubbed her face. “Thanks for—” She gestured at the loose-fitting track suit.

“I figured you’d like to be comfortable eating dinner. It’s just a guess, but I can’t see that outfit being something you’d wear around the house all the time.” He gave her a sly wink. “If it is, please correct me, and I’ll add it to my dream inventory.”

Jen laughed as she slid onto one of the waiting stools. “Nice try. No, I don’t wear it when I’m not working. Too hard to keep clean.” She frowned. “And those nylons are always tearing.”

“You’re spoiling my fantasies.” Nathan opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of salad. He placed it on the table next to the smaller bowls. “I’ve only got balsamic dressing. Hope that’s okay.”

She nodded, taken aback by the sudden domesticity. She didn’t assume he was the typical bachelor-cop slob, but this was refreshingly normal.

“I know I shouldn’t have taken you upstairs, but you were starting to snore.” Nathan grinned as he plucked a pitcher of cold water from the counter and filled the two water glasses. “And I was beginning to cramp up.”

Jen brushed her hand through her hair, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It just—”

“No, no.” He waved her off with a chuckle. “You needed it. Obviously.” Nathan turned to the oven and opened the door to peer at the contents. “I get exactly what you felt. I get that way at times after a rough shift or a stressful situation. Can’t sleep for days, and then it overwhelms you. I’ve lain down on the couch and passed out for almost all of my day off. It’s your system’s way of dealing with stuff and you don’t get a choice.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Given the stress you’ve been under, it was bound to happen.”

Nathan held up a hand as he reached for the oven mitt on the counter. “And I already called in to HP and paid. Told them we’d totally forgotten about it in the emotion of the moment and all. Not sure if she believed me, but she sent an email, and that’s all taken care of.” He reached into the oven. “Didn’t want them coming after you or I thinking something was off.” He let out a low laugh. “I forgot to mention you were asleep upstairs. Figure that was no one’s business but ours.”

Jen took a sip of water and watched him retrieve the bubbling tray of pasta.

Into the fire.

Nathan placed the lasagna on the counter. He deftly sliced two fat squares out and laid each on the waiting plates.

Jen forced herself to stop twirling the fork between her fingers, her mouth filling with saliva in anticipation.

The man can cook.

Nathan put the loaded plate in front of her. “I usually put the rest of the tray in the fridge for meals during the week. But it doesn’t mean you can’t have seconds if you like it.” He filled both salad bowls with the mixed greens.

She stared at the car-sized portion. “You’re kidding, right? I’ll be lucky if I get halfway through this.” Her hunger turned from a howling wolf to a purring kitten as she assessed the task in front of her. “I assume you allow takeout.”

Nathan laughed as he drizzled the dark oily dressing over his salad. “On demand. At least you’re not refusing to eat because it’s got too many carbs or the color red or whatever the current dieting craze is. I’ve seen too many women nibble on a lettuce leaf and call it lunch or dinner.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Aside from not being healthy, it’s not appealing at all. I like my women to have a bit of meat on their bones, thank you very much.”

She took a tentative bite of the layered pasta and meat before diving in with gusto. The comfort food stuck to her ribs, a perfect fit. Her stomach gave a last grumble of annoyance for being forced to wait so long for such excellent food.

Beats a microwaved mac-and-cheese bowl.

The salad was crisp and crunchy, the perfect counterpart. She wasn’t a big fan of balsamic dressing, but this combination worked.

They ate in silence, Jen not wanting to break the domestic spell by saying anything.

Nathan refilled both water glasses. “Sorry there’s no wine, but I have a midnight shift.”

She paused, fork in midair. “Then I’m in the way. You should have told me.”

His shocked look both thrilled and terrified her. “You’re not in the way. I was going to make this anyway, and it’s nice to have someone to share it with.” He gestured at the large tray on the counter. “Can’t make a little bit of lasagna. It’s either go big or don’t bother at all.”

“True,” she agreed.

“Besides, you’re helping me out. I usually end up tossing some out when I can’t stand eating it anymore.” Nathan paused, and she saw the shift in his attitude, the way his shoulders straightened.

Playtime is over.

“Are you going to get in trouble for this?” He gestured at the meal with his empty fork. “Being here and all.”

“No. When I sent my safe code to the office, the session was over and my connection to HP done. The payment thing—they won’t care as long as they get paid. As far as Dispatch knows, I’m home lounging on the couch with a good book.”

Nathan smiled. “So I’m substituting for a good book. Nice to hear.” He shot her a wink. “Hope you’re reading one of those hot romances from the top of the best-seller list.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I only read the best.”

He laughed and took another bite of lasagna.

She busied herself with the remains of the salad, enjoying the last of the freshly cut tomatoes.

“So how do you feel about your current—” Nathan frowned, searching for the right word. “Mental state?”

“I’m okay. I’m being alert, and that’s all I can do. Paranoia isn’t going to do anything but make me sick—I believe you just proved it.” Jen felt like scraping the plate for the last dash of sauce but settled for cleaning out her salad bowl. “There’s two ways this can go. If he’s changed, I’ll never hear from him again. If not—” She paused, fighting to keep the darkness from her thoughts. “The authorities will take over.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been changing your routine. More alert about your surroundings.”

“Bear repellent in my knapsack or in my jacket pocket at all times.” She resisted the urge to lick the fork clean of the last bits of dressing. “I want to think he’s rehabilitated or whatever the current term is. I want to believe that.” Jen placed her fork on her plate. “I can’t let myself think any other way. But—”

“Okay.” Nathan interrupted her. He collected her plate and bowl and placed them in the sink along with his own. “I have a confession to make.”

She frowned, unsure of what she’d heard.

Her heart sank.

“The scene? Did you—”

“No.” He returned to sit across from her again, leaning forward on his elbows. “It’s not about that.” He drew a ragged sigh. “It was wonderful. And I thank you again.” His expression turned serious. “You know I’m a cop.”

She pulled back a laugh. “So I’ve heard.”

“You know I care for you.”

Jen swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Because of the first, because of the second, I went and called in a few favors. The file arrived by courier while you were sleeping.”

He didn’t have to clarify what he was talking about.

Rage burned through her, hard and fast like a lightning bolt, before it resolved itself in the pit of her stomach.

He hadn’t done it to be nasty or to hurt her.

He did it because he cared for her.

“Okay.” Jen licked her lips. “Tell me what you found out.”

Nathan nodded. “Lucas Tanner was paroled over a month ago. He was assigned to a halfway house and has, by all reports, stayed out of trouble.”

She studied his expression. “But you don’t believe it.”

Nathan shrugged. “I’m only going by the parole officer’s reports. And he’s only going by what he picked up from Lucas’s visits.”

Jen paused, weighing her next words.

“You think he’s still a bad man?” The simple terms seemed the best to use.

“I don’t know. I can go by the halfway house if you’d like and—”

Jen put up her hand. “Stop. What do you think you’d accomplish by going to see him?”

“I’d scare the crap out of him.” The emotion crept into Nathan’s voice, the intensity surprising him. “I’d tell him to stay the hell away from you.”

“Okay,” Jen said. “And when he asks how you know him, how you’re involved with this case, you’ll say—” She left the sentence hanging.

“I can tell him I’m a friend of one of the women working at the clinic. It’s not a lie.”

“And then you get in trouble when he reports you for harassment.”

Nathan blinked.

Didn’t think of that, did you? Jen mentally yelled.

You should have.

Your desire to help me distracted you from the obvious.

Jen reached over and touched his hand. “It was dangerous for you to get this information. What reason did you give?”

“Told them I was curious about an old case. Nothing more.”

“And that’s where it’s got to stay.” She squeezed his hand. “Imagine if you go to see him and he squawks to his parole officer a cop’s bullying him, a policeman’s going beyond his authority to harass him. Maybe the parole officer decides to go up the chain of command and tell your superiors, who want to know, rightly, what your stake is in this case.”

She saw the realization come home.

“They might find out about us,” he answered.

“They would find out about you,” she corrected him. “Exposure wouldn’t affect me much. I’m not doing anything illegal.”

“Neither am I,” Nathan said.

“Except, as you know damned well, exposure could cost you your job. At the least, it’ll make it difficult, if not impossible, for us to keep seeing each other, and it would put pressure on you at work.” She cocked her head to one side. “I can’t let you risk it to bully a punk who might well have forgotten about me and wants to change his life for the better. Please leave it alone for now.”

“But—” He shook his head. “You can’t let this asshole define you or your relationships with your friends, your family, your—” He caught himself before finishing the sentence.

Boyfriend? Lover? Clients?

Jen wondered which word he’d bitten back.

“I’m not going to let him. And neither should you.” She dotted her mouth with the paper napkin left on the table. “I’ve got to get going. You’ll need to rest before you go in to work tonight.” She looked at him directly. “Thank you. For everything.”

Jen leaned across the table and kissed his cheek before she could talk herself out of it.

Walking on fire.

He beamed. “Don’t worry about me. I napped a bit on the couch while dinner was cooking. But I do need to get ready.” He tapped his temple. “Up here is what’s important. Get your mind in the game, and your body will follow.”

Jen smiled. “You’re good at your job.”

“As you are at yours.” Nathan smiled. “Let me go get your backpack.” He walked out of the kitchen before she could reply.

Sunday dinner with a man.

It’d been a long, long time since that had happened. All she needed now was a nice cup of coffee, and she’d be fi—

She yawned and caught herself.

Home, girl. No more lounging around here.

You’re already on shaky ground as it is.

Jen wandered into the hallway and saw her high-heeled shoes neatly lined up with his runners and heavy-duty winter boots. She slipped them on and spotted her coat hanging on a hook. She put it on and found her car keys in the pockets.

“Next week, then?” Nathan bounded down the stairs with her phone and bag. He skittered to a stop in front of him. “You can bring my clothes back then. No use getting changed just to get in your car.”

“True.” She pulled at the soft gray fabric. “You didn’t have to do that. I usually sleep naked. It’s how I’m most comfortable.”

The words were out of her mouth before she caught them.

You did not just say—

“I can guess.” Nathan nodded. “I know I can’t wait to get out of my uniform when my shift is over.”

The awkward silence drifted around them.

She felt strange leaving like this.

It wasn’t a date.

It sure as hell wasn’t the usual visit.

It was some unknown creature she wasn’t ready to identify.

He tilted his head to one side, smiling, and for one amazing, terrifying second, she thought he was going to kiss her again.

Or at least try to.

Her mind spun as she shuffled through the mental index cards, trying to figure out how to react to that.

Do I let him?

Do I stop him?

Do I—

Nathan leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek, his chin stubble rubbing against her skin.

Jen closed her eyes and sighed, the electricity sparking between them.

If only—

He handed her the items and stood back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He cocked his head to one side and smiled, obviously as confused as she was.

She wavered, unsure what to say.

He took the initiative.

“Thanks for the extra company,” Nathan said. He reached behind her to open the front door. “See you next week.”

“Thanks for dinner and the conversation. And yes, I’ll see you next Sunday.” Jen turned to go. “Have a good shift. Stay safe.”

She forced herself over the step, her high heels jutting out from under the gray sweat pants.

You have to go.

Now.

She didn’t turn to wave, afraid it’d give the wrong impression.

Even though she wasn’t sure what the hell the right one would be. This was nothing she’d ever considered happening and nothing she had ever prepared for.

“Good night, Jennifer.” The words followed her down the stone path to her car.

Nathan closed the door and watched her through the curtains as he usually did. The black car pulled onto the street and out of sight. The streetlights were coming on, illuminating the light snow fallen while they’d rested and chatted.

Just like any old couple finishing off a Sunday afternoon date.

Except she was his Domme.

Domme-for-hire, his subconscious bleated. You pay her along with other men to get what you won’t dare go to the club for. She’s only yours for two hours every week.

She’s not really yours.

Nathan sighed, drowning out the critical voice with a soft, simple statement.

But I’m hers.

His thoughts wandered back a few minutes, the scenario taking a dramatically different turn.

He kissed her cheek and moved in on her lips, the bruising kiss pushing her back against the wall.

Jen let out a weak sigh as he devoured her mouth, his arms wrapped around her and tangling up in his own sweatshirt.

Nathan gripped her waist hard before slipping his hand under the soft material and cupping her ass.

She wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Jen’s hands pulled at his hair, sending jagged streaks of pain over his scalp as he pulled her hard against him, his body instinctively reacting to the stimulation he’d endured for hours.

He wanted her.

Here.

Now.

Jen gave a long-drawn-out moan as he pulled the sweats down and fumbled with his own pants, her hands scrabbling for purchase on his shirt as he—

Nathan pulled himself out of the dream with a shout and a jerk of his head.

Not for you, buddy.

The harsh reality killed off any residual feelings as he maintained his watch through the curtains.

Not for you.

Mentally, he turned the clock back a few hours as he watched the street for any other sign of activity.

He’d given her a half hour to wake up, and she hadn’t moved, hadn’t done anything but snuggle farther into his lap, driving his senses wild.

I can’t send her home like this.

She hadn’t flinched when he picked her up in his arms, hadn’t fought to break free as he maneuvered up the stairs to the ground floor and then higher to the next floor and his bedroom.

She was obviously mentally and physically exhausted. She could have begged off their appointment, but Jen had come to him and felt comfortable enough not only to relax but to fall into a deep sleep.

Except, after he’d tucked her into his bed, there was a raging need to be dealt with.

No matter what he might try to tell himself, she was his Domme, and she’d pushed him to the brink numerous times during their session. There was no way that was going away with a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek.

He had his post-visit routine, and it didn’t include having her so close, the scent of her clogging his mind and sending his libido into overdrive.

It’d taken the last of his self-control to place her in his bedroom with her phone and backpack before quickly going to the bathroom and taking care of business. It wasn’t hard to get to the edge and over with her lying on his bed only a room away.

Jamming his knuckles into his mouth made it even better. It was easy to imagine Jen standing behind him and giving an order for total silence, riding crop at the ready to punish him if he made too much noise.

Grunting and biting down on his hand helped push him over the edge in record time. He came with a ragged growl, his knees weak and threatening to give out as he bucked and spurted into the toilet.

Exhausted, Nathan had retreated to the couch. His mind had been filled with erotic thoughts and dreams about the two of them together in his bed, pushing him back to the edge for a second time with surprising speed.

As he groaned and shot into his hand, he wondered if women knew the depth of their sexual powers over men.

She’s upstairs sound asleep, and I’m coming like a horny teenager with his first porn magazine.

He’d forced himself up from the couch to clean up and prepare dinner.

Idle hands—

The courier had arrived a half hour later, handing Nathan the thick packet.

All erotic thoughts vanished as he opened the envelope and started digging through the past.

I’ve got to do what I can to protect her.

Nathan brought himself back to the present with a shake of his head. He looked out on the empty street, straining to hear the car’s engine.

Nothing.

He glanced up and down the street.

Nothing.

After closing the door Nathan went back to the kitchen. He retrieved the microwavable containers from the cupboards and set out to divide the remaining lasagna into smaller meals. The mundane task tamped down the worry he had about Jen.

He’d held back a truth learned on the job.

A man could change.

But only if he wanted to.

Nathan had seen it happen. Gang members getting out after a short stretch in juvenile detention and turning their lives around to become good, smart adults. Drug addicts cleaning up and going straight, recovering their lives to get back with family and friends. Drunk drivers headed into rehab after a close call sending them to jail for a few months.

It could happen.

But he wasn’t sure if Tanner had reformed or was waiting for the right time to attack the woman who had broken his nose. Nathan knew it would have been a constant sore spot for the criminal while incarcerated, the others around him mocking his manhood because he’d been taken down by a woman.

That might be a bit harder to get over than the actual arrest and trial.

And an incentive to take revenge.

He resisted the urge to look outside again.