Chapter Thirteen
Tristan all but shoved Stacy into her car before rushing back to Joy in his bed under the folds of fabric. There was enough light spilling in from the hallway to spot the sideways bottle on the floor. “Hey, you didn’t save me any wine?” he joked but she was too inert to respond with anything more than light snoring. “Joy? Can you hear me?” He felt bad waking her, but he couldn’t leave her with one limp hand above her head while the other fist curled beneath her chin against the pillow—peaceful yet awkwardly uncomfortable.
She lifted an eyelid and pulled a web of hair from her mouth with the free hand. “How’d it go with your wife?” she spat.
“You mean my ex-wife?” Tristan corrected in a gentle tone, not wanting to stoke the fire of her understandable animosity. “She’s gonna drop off Nicole tomorrow.” His fingers drifted from the warmth of her cheek, down the cool satin nightie he’d picked out that looked better on her than the internet model. “I see you found your Easter basket. Why’d you cuff yourself to the bed?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time. I gotta pee. Please unlock me.”
“Where’s the key?”
“Dunno. Somewhere ’round there.” Joy pointed toward the carpet and drew a wide circle in the air.
“Boy, are you a lucky lady. Be right back.” Tristan sprinted to the entryway table to grab his keyring and returned with his spare universal handcuff key. Holding her delicate wrist, he inserted the skinny key into the tiny hole and turned it until the bracelet opened then massaged the indentation.
“My hero.” She rolled off the bed and zigzagged toward the bathroom. If this were a car stop, no doubt she’d blow high on the breathalyzer test.
The sight of her nearly nude body flitting across the floor made him swell in his undershorts. “My Lord…” Had he known what she was up to this afternoon he would have quit working hours ago.
At the whoosh of the toilet, followed by the splattering of sink water, he rushed beside the bathroom door and flattened his back to the wall, ready to catch a pretend perp.
Joy yanked open the door and paused. “Tristan? Where’d ya go? Please, God, I hope Stacy didn’t come back,” she muttered.
Tristan bit his bottom lip as he waited to pounce, fighting the urge to laugh at the ridiculous role-playing game. But she started it.
When she flicked off the bathroom light and stepped over the threshold, he snatched her elbow and rumbled in his official tone, “You’re under arrest, miss.”
Surprised and off kilter, Joy stammered, “What’re you doing?”
“You have the right to remain silent.” With a gentler than usual touch, he pulled her arms behind her back as he pushed her chest to the wall in a fluid motion. “Anything you say can and will be used against you…” As he rambled the entire Miranda warning, the clicks of steel rings around her wrists sealed the deal, and she was cuffed just like a crime scene.
“Whoa…” A nervous giggle squeaked past her lips. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Of course, sunshine.” His erection strained behind his zipper as he pressed against her scantily clad curves. “I’m not in the business of arresting anyone these days.”
“But you’re gonna go back to it.” Joy glanced over her shoulder at him. “I heard you tell Stacy.”
“I only said it to piss her off. I don’t know what I’m doing yet.”
Her stance relaxed a bit. “This feels a little too real. You must’ve been really good at your job.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to cuff you?”
“I thought we’d just use them in bed.”
“Why? Are you really gonna try to get away from me?”
“No.”
“Then let’s play cops and robbers. That’s more my speed.” Flipping a mental switch, he slipped right into the bad-cop character without missing a beat. “Who’s your pimp?” He gave a gentle shove, hoping she played along.
“My what?”
“Come on, sista. I’ve had my eye on you all week, working this corner.”
“I’m, uh, what should I do?” she whispered.
Tristan grinned. “Just go with it.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. This is my corner. If I don’t score tonight my pimp’s not gonna be happy. Can you help me out?” She glanced over her shoulder, batting her lashes, with a pout that made the powdery soft plea convincing.
Tristan nearly shot the loaded weapon in his boxers. Sucking in a breath, he said, “You’re not propositioning a police officer, are you?”
She hesitated. “Maybe. Why? Is that a bad thing?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s a really bad thing.” Tristan chuckled at her innocence and changed gears, back to cop-mode. “I’m hauling you in. You’ll spend the night in a cell and see the judge in the morning to set your bail. Is there someone you wanna call to let them know where to find you?”
“Well, I guess I could call my folks, but that’ll kill ’em. And my ex wouldn’t even care.” Joy’s voice cracked with weak tears.
Okay. Game over. “Shh…Joy, shh. We’re just playing.” Tristan spun her to face him, consoling her with a hug, but she wasn’t having it. The tears were real and they were coming hard and fast.
“There’s nobody I can call. I don’t like this game anymore.” Her body trembled with despair.
“You can call me anytime. Always. You know that.”
“No, I can’t.” She buried her face into his T-shirt. “You’re the one arresting me.” If her sobs weren’t so heartbreaking the scenario would be comical. “I have no one.”
“That’s not true.” Tristan gripped her shoulders, pushing her arms’ length away to view her damp eyes. “You got me.”
Her tears slowed, and she cocked her neck to the side in doubt. “You’re just sayin’ that because you made me cry.”
“You’re wrong.” All he wanted was to make her happy, bring her joy, and love her like she needed to be loved. So he leaned down and murmured against her salty petal-soft lips, “I love you, Joy. Whether you wanna hear the word or not, I don’t know a better way to say it. I’m in love with you.”
She gasped, releasing another weepy wave.
“Please don’t cry.”
“Don’t worry,” she whispered against his kiss. “These are happy tears.”
“Wait.” He reached for the cuff. “Lemme get these off you.”
“No. I trust you. Let’s imagine the bed is the backseat of your police car.”
While Joy’s tongue explored his mouth with a hunger that matched his own, Tristan inched in reverse, taking her with him. When his legs bumped against the footboard, he spun Joy and put her down on the mattress face first, making sure her head turned sideways so she didn’t suffocate.
“You started this, sunshine. I gotta end it.” With a slow hand, he rubbed a small circle on her bottom raised high in the air. “I gotta be inside you, or I’m gonna explode. You sure you wouldn’t rather do this with the cuffs off?”
“Leave ’em.” Joy’s fingers twitched at the small of her back until she laced them together. “Take me now. From behind. With the cuffs on,” she snapped as eager as he was for this moment. “I wanna know what it’s like to have you in total control of my body.”
“Promise you’ll let me know the moment you don’t like it, and I’ll take ’em off.”
Joy nodded under the curtain of hair covering her face.
Tristan brushed the strands away. “I wanna hear you say it.”
“Yes. I promise.”
As much as he wanted to get this party in his pants started, he was hesitant of her position, with her shoulders supporting the weight of her upper torso. “Lemme know if you’re not comfortable.”
“Shut up already.” She urged with a giggle. “I mean…ohhh, officer, I’m so sorry for breakin’ the law. Teach me a lesson I’ll never forget.”
Rigid to the point of pain, Tristan popped open the top button of his jeans, ripped down the zipper, and kicked them off, along with his boxer-briefs. Free at last. He dug out a condom from the nightstand drawer, tore the foil with his teeth, and rolled it down the tender tip. With a quick dip of his finger, he discovered her coveted slick spot was red-hot and ripe for the taking. As Joy’s hips rocked like a slow heartbeat, guiding him in the right direction, he braced for the plunge.
“You’re absolutely sure you want it like this?”
“More than anything,” Joy moaned with delight. She sat back, getting reacquainted with his anxious arousal.
He nudged her against his lap hoping she’d impale herself before he lost control and skewered her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” She glanced over her shoulder, giggling with an impish smile and hungry eyes. “I know you’d never hurt me. Make me feel good,” her husky voice dropped an octave, “like you always do.”
Her lust-laden words put him over the edge and without thinking twice he drove his swollen sword inside her, slaying the sexy beast.
Joy howled in pleasure-pain—a beautifully aching song he’d grown familiar to since making endless love night after night after glorious night, like it was his job and she was the boss he was eager to please.
Her whole body clenched, melting around his stiff shaft. It was heaven and hell all wrapped up in the back end of this beauty. He slipped out, then in, slow and easy, increasing his delivery to match her rhythm until he pounded her as rapid as his heartbeat.
“You make me crazy, you know that?” He tugged fistfuls of her hair like the reins on a filly.
“Good. ’Cause you make me crazy, so we’re even.” He heard the underlying smile in her voice. “You make me do things I never thought I’d do, Officer Casanova.”
“And you make me do things that would make me lose my job.” With his knees to the mattress, he rocked against her, into her, riding them both to heaven in the back of his imaginary patrol car.
“Harder. Faster.” Joy belted out demands that Tristan was more than happy to oblige with his mind clouded and his libido doing a backflip. “Come for me, Tristan. Please. I can’t take anymore. These cuffs hurt.”
At her plea, he poured into her. “Yesss.”
She went limp first and he rolled alongside her to avoid adding pressure to the restraints.
“You okay?” Tristan pushed the hair from her starry eyes.
Nose to nose, Joy’s sweet breath mingled with his. “That was intense. I’d definitely try it again someday.”
Once he freed her wrists, they scrambled beneath the covers. He cradled her head in the crook of his arm while her fingers caressed his torso.
“So…” She twirled his thicket of chest hair. “I’m the new housekeeping-nanny, huh?”
“I already told you, it’s not that I want to hide our relationship. I just don’t want her knowing my business, like you not wanting your dad to know we’re living together. Same difference.”
“You’re right.” Joy sighed. “It just felt so icky…hearing your conversation. And watching her try to kiss you.”
“I’m sorry about that, sunshine.” Before she made a bald spot, he halted her antsy fingers and wove their hands together.
“Was she hard for you to resist? I mean—I saw her. She’s very pretty. Any guy would find her attractive.”
“What?” Tristan squinted in disbelief, then recalled Joy mentioning her ex-husband’s cheating tendencies, which would explain her silly insinuation. “I’m not Victor. I have no reason to want another woman but you.”
She hesitated, and he read the thoughts behind her eyes as she blinked one, then the other, separate, together, as if calculating the weight of his words. “Want? Or need?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Need is dependent. Want is extra. I need air. I want ice cream.”
“You want ice cream?”
“Not right now. I’m just differentiating. You need a family car. You don’t need a Harley—you want it.”
“Actually, if you’re gonna ride a bike, there’s nothing like a Harley, so I kinda need it.” He chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.
“You don’t get it.” Joy shot from the sheets onto her feet. “You don’t need me. You want me. Like some object of affection. That’s what you just said.”
“I’m not seeing the difference.”
“Need is something you can’t live without. Want is something you desire to possess. Like a mansion. Or a yacht.”
“I don’t want a mansion or a yacht. I want you.”
“Exactly.”
“I still don’t get it.” Tristan got up to stop her from pacing before she stormed out of the room. “I want and need you, does that make you feel better?”
“I dunno. You need me to watch your daughter when you’re at work apparently, according to your conversation with your ex-wife.”
“Technically I don’t need you to watch her ’cause I’m gonna put her in preschool. But I want her to get to know you in case you ever do watch her for whatever reason I’m not around. But if you can’t, I can ask Lily.”
“See what you did there?” Fury flashed in her eyes.
“Nope. Not at all.” Frustration had him gripping his hair at the root. “What’d I do now?”
“You replaced me so easily. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
“What? All I said was I’d ask Lily if you’re busy. Why would I want to put any more on your plate than you already have? I thought you’d be happy I’m not expecting you to be a babysitter. Whatever I told Stacy was to get her the hell outta my house.”
“Ugh.” Joy threw herself onto the bed.
“What’s bothering you so I can understand?”
“I want you to want me.” She sat up with praying hands centered at her heaving breasts. “I need you to need me. Don’t you get it?”
It took everything in his power not to throw her on her back and ravage her again. Instead he chuckled at her plea. “You sound like a Cheap Trick song. What do you want from me, Joy? Tell me, so I know. Do you want me to want you? Need you? Love you?” He threw in the last one, knowing she wouldn’t say it herself.
“I want it all.”
Unable to resist, he smirked and sang, “If you want my love, you got it.”
“Now you sound like a Cheap Trick song.”
“What can I say? We’re a couple of cheap tricks. I don’t want to complicate this amazing thing between us with a boatload of baggage. We’ve come too far to let a little misunderstanding sink the ship. My ex is a pain in my ass. I just want my kid. I’m sure when your ex shows up to deliver your boys it won’t be all lollipops and roses.”
“Victor has no reason to come here.”
“How else are your kids getting here from Florida? He’d put them alone on a plane?”
Joy shrugged. “Knowing him, he’ll send his fiancée.”
“I can believe Vick is a dick, but he can’t be that big of a tool bag.”
“You’d be surprised.”