Stripped, page 26
Brooke’s eyebrows rose. “Was he . . . was he helping us? That makes no sense.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t.” She shook her head. “We’ll unpack it all later, with Jack and Amelia and the captain.” He nodded and a silence fell between them. Brooke bit her lip, a nervousness he wasn’t used to seeing flickering across her features.
“Sawyer, I . . . I’m so sorry.”
He opened his mouth to tell her that he got it, that she had nothing to be sorry for, but she pressed a finger to his lips.
“Just let me say this, okay?”
He leaned back against his pillows, studying her. She was so beautiful. So strong and brave. Amazing, in every single way. The beeps on his heart monitor picked up.
“I’ve never been good at letting people in. Losing my parents was hard, and I think because of it, I walked around with these invisible shields up. I mean, I didn’t even know I had them up a lot of the time. But I was protecting myself, because I knew how much it hurt to lose people you loved. I was scared to open myself up to someone.” She paused and then shrugged. “And then you came along, and you challenged me on every level, and I didn’t know what to do with that, because it was like . . . like my shields wouldn’t hold. And I panicked. I thought maybe if I just held on long enough, I’d figure something out. But then I lost Nan, and everything just got so hard.”
“Brooke, I—”
“I’m not done.” She took a deep breath. “I liked being with you, from the moment I met you. Even when I wanted to strangle you, I liked being with you. And then things got more intense between us, and it freaked me out. So when we got caught, and got suspended, I didn’t know what else to do besides push you away.” She looked down and shook her head. “But that was a mistake. A huge mistake. Because I love you, Sawyer. I love you so damn much.”
She looked at him with glistening eyes, and even though she’d said a lot, he could see all the things she wasn’t saying, too. She’d been scared to lose him, and hated that that’s what it had taken to wake her up.
He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, grimacing. “I know.”
“Are we . . . I mean . . . can you forgive me? I’m so sorry. I love you.” She let out a small laugh. “Now I can’t seem to stop saying it.”
“Yeah, Brooke. I forgive you. Because that’s what you do when you love someone.” He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up. We’re human. It’ll probably happen again. But here’s the thing. You, Brooke Simmons, are it for me. And I think I’ve known that since the night I met you. So I’ll be an asshole caveman, and you can try to cut and run, but we’re in this together. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not giving up on you.” He tugged her close, brushing a kiss over her lips. “I don’t know if I believe in fate, but I sure as fuck believe in us.”
She kissed him back, her lips warm and gentle against his. He pulled her against him, not caring that it hurt. He was willing to put up with a lot on what had turned out to be the best-worst day of his life.
Epilogue
Detective Sawyer Matthews stood stiffly at attention as sweat trickled between his shoulder blades. The spotlight shone down on the stage, blinding him so he could see only the first few rows of people seated in the main hall of the Georgia Congress Center. Captain Hill stood at the podium on the far end of the stage, his voice booming as he spoke into the microphone.
“Today, we pay tribute to two members of our own who risked their lives to make our city a safer place. We are all inordinately proud of Detectives Sawyer Matthews and Brooke Simmons.”
Sawyer glanced over at Brooke, wondering if she found this moment as surreal as he did. She stared straight ahead, her throat working as she swallowed. They’d both been reinstated shortly after the rescue, but had been told they’d need to switch partners. In the future, Brooke would work with Jack, while Sawyer would work with Amelia. So far, the new pairings were going well.
“These detectives exhibited bravery in the face of extreme danger and loyalty to fellow officers, going above and beyond the call of duty. They also did so while defying orders. Apparently, the key to getting the best out of your team is to tell them they can’t do something.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd and Sawyer glanced down, hiding his smile.
“Because of their bravery, one of the most dangerous drug cartels in Atlanta’s history has been crippled. Because of their honor, our city is now a safer place. Because of their commitment, they’ve shown others what it means to be part of a team. And so, I invite you all to stand as we recognize Detective Sawyer Matthews and Detective Brooke Simmons as recipients of the Atlanta Police Medal of Honor.”
Being awarded the medal while standing beside Brooke was one of the happiest, proudest moments of Sawyer’s life. Even though he wasn’t done with his grief over Ryan, he was working through it. Slowly, with Brooke by his side, he was learning to live again.
After the ceremony and shaking hands with the brass, he grabbed Brooke’s hand and led her through the crowd, excited to introduce her to his family—his parents and his brothers, who’d all come up in support. They only had time for brief introductions before he and Brooke were called away for pictures. But it didn’t matter. He was willing to bet his shiny new medal that they’d be seeing a lot more of Brooke in the months and years to come.
After he’d been released from the hospital, he’d asked Brooke if he could stay with her. The cartel had known where to find him, leaving him feeling unsafe, and some of the key members, including the Sheriff, were still out there, so he wasn’t willing to take any chances. It had been a month, and he was still healing from his last run-in with them.
“Let me know when you’re ready to get out of here,” Brooke said once they’d finished posing for photographs with the chief and members of the police board. “I have a surprise waiting for you at home.”
That was all it took to start the round of goodbyes—to his family, to Jack and Amelia, to the captain—before he was practically dragging Brooke back to his truck. In the recent past, her surprises had included a massage—which had ended in sex. Cooking a meal for him wearing nothing but an apron—that had also ended in sex. Giving him an up-close-and-personal demonstration of her vibrator—you’d better believe that had ended in sex.
Yeah, it was a safe bet that Brooke only had to say the word surprise and he was half-hard.
When they arrived back at her place, she tossed her keys on the little table by her front door and then pointed at him. “Strip down to your boxers and sit on the couch.” She disappeared into her bedroom.
He didn’t know what she had planned, but he liked where this was going. As he tossed his clothes on the floor, a wide grin spread across his face. If someone had told him a couple of months ago that life could be this good, he wouldn’t have believed them. Wouldn’t have believed that he’d be in a better place with his grief over Ryan. Not over it, necessarily, but finally in a healthy enough space to start processing it. He wouldn’t have believed that he’d be awarded the Medal of Honor for killing the man responsible for Ryan’s death. And he definitely wouldn’t have believed that he’d found the love of his life.
Yeah. Life was pretty fucking great.
He sat down on the couch, spreading his arms out over the back of it. His shoulder still ached, but he’d made good progress with his physical therapy. Within a week or two, it probably wouldn’t hurt nearly as much anymore.
Music started playing from the little Bluetooth speaker on Brooke’s coffee table, and he recognized the song instantly as “Bad Girls.” And then Brooke appeared in the doorway, wearing her police hat, her old uniform shirt, a corset, and black lace panties.
She cocked her hip and smiled at him, a coy, sexy smile that promised everything good. “I figured it was about time I return the favor and give you a show,” she said, taking a few slow, sexy steps toward him.
“Yeah? You want some pointers?”
She stepped up in front of him and turned in a slow circle, running her hands up her body and into her hair, tossing her hat aside and letting her hair fall around her shoulders. Her shirt slipped down her shoulder, exposing her creamy skin. “Do I look like I need some pointers?”
He made a low rumbling sound and reached for her, needing to touch her. He pulled her into his lap, his cock twitching to life at the feel of her pressed against him.
“No,” he said as she worked her hips against him, popping open the first few clasps on her corset in time with the music. “I think you’re perfect.”
She leaned forward and kissed him, a hot, lingering kiss that promised all kinds of filthy things. “I should get that in writing.”
“You’re not supposed to kiss the clients,” he teased, his eyes raking over her. Savoring this insanely gorgeous woman he’d somehow earned.
“What can I say, Matthews? You bring out the rule-breaker in me.”
She tossed her police shirt to the floor and ground against him. “Was it worth it?” he asked, tugging her earlobe between his teeth.
She stilled and cupped his cheek, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, Sawyer. You were worth it. Every maddening second. Now help me get this corset off.”
Acknowledgments
The original idea for this book came to me a long time ago, and I’ve been dying to write this book for some time. A huge thank you to my agent extraordinaire, Sarah Younger, for all of your hard work, encouragement, patience, and support. This project wouldn’t have found a home without you. Thank you, also, to my amazingly talented editor, Nicole Fischer, for your enthusiasm for this project and insightful feedback that made my idea shine. I’m so thrilled to be working with you. And thank you to the entire hardworking Avon team for everything you do.
Thank you to my family—especially my husband, Graham—for your tireless support and encouragement over the past few years. Knowing that you’re all behind me means the world to me.
Shout out to my crew, my squad, my girls: Amanda, Robin, and Sarah. The past year has been a tough one for all of us, and I’m so glad we all made it through together. I love you guys.
A special thank you to my amazing community of writer friends, especially Harper St. George, my critique partner; Nicki Pau Preto, my BAE; Eve Silver, who kicks my ass when I need it; Kelly Siskind, who is beyond kind; Brighton Walsh, who encouraged me in the San Antonio airport after RWA 2014 to “write that fucking book, girl!”; and the wonderful members of the Toronto Romance Writers, who inspire, teach, and motivate me each and every month.
Special shout out to Shannon Richard, who was there for me when I needed her most, who cheered me on, who gave me a shoulder to cry on, and who loved this book from the very beginning. Tough times often show us who we can count on; Shannon, with you I ran out of numbers.
Bonus shout outs: Channing Tatum, pinot grigio, fuzzy unicorn slippers, Chris Hemsworth, and Schroeder, the world’s cutest dachshund and furriest muse.
Announcement to Schooled
Don’t miss the next suspenseful, sexy romance in the Blue HEAT series!
SCHOOLED
Coming soon!
Preorder it here and read on for a sneak peek . . .
Jack Ward is one of Atlanta’s most successful detectives, and he’s on a mission: bring an end to the drug cartel responsible for the death of his friend and colleague. While tracking the financials of several shell corporations believed to be tied to the operation, Jack spots an anomaly, with funds being diverted to an elite private preschool. The best way to get the information he needs is to go undercover as a teacher at the school. For designer-suit-wearing Jack, a preschool is the last place he wants to be, but he’ll do anything for intel, including getting close to the gorgeous assistant principal . . .
An Excerpt from Schooled
Chapter One
Detective Jack Ward slowly stretched his arms above his head without opening his eyes, basking in the last few seconds of the warm, hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. As he lowered his hands back down, his fingers brushed the bare skin of a naked female back, warm and smooth. He felt Simone stir and he opened his eyes, turning his head on the pillow to look at her. She shot him a sleepy, sated smile.
“Morning,” she whispered, snuggling deeper into her pillow. Her big brown eyes drifted closed again, the silhouetted feminine planes of her face just visible in the shadowy light spilling in through the edges of the blinds covering the floor-to-ceiling windows. Just then, the automatic shades began to open with a soft whir, and Jack sat up with a sighing groan, pushing a hand through his hair as he squinted at his watch. It was already 7:30.
“Damn,” he whispered, both at the fact that it was time to get up and that Simone had just stretched, causing the white sheet to fall below her full breasts topped with delectable light brown nipples. Despite all the fun they’d had the previous evening, his cock twitched at the sight. At the thought of last night, he glanced to his right, trying to remember the name of the stunning redhead Simone had brought over with her. Carla? Carly? Carmen? Something with a “car”—he was about ninety percent sure. He stared at the sheet of red hair spilling over the white pillow, wondering if it should bother him a lot more than it did that he couldn’t. Shit.
With careful movements, he crawled to the edge of the bed, stepping around the piles of discarded clothes and condom wrappers, leaving the two naked women sleeping in his California king, sheets rumpled around them. The corner of his mouth kicked up, a self-satisfied smile breaking through his morning fogginess. Even though there were two of them and only one of him, he was the one who’d worn them out, not the other way around. He quickly picked up the condom wrappers, not wanting to leave them for Mildred to deal with later. He stepped into the bathroom, closing the door with a quiet snick behind him.
After tossing the wrappers, he opened the large glass shower door and reached inside, turning the water on. It flowed from the massive waterfall showerhead, the water pattering softly against the marble. A tendril of steam curled up over the glass and Jack stepped under the spray, washing away last night’s debauchery.
Jack stretched as the hot water worked its magic on his tired muscles, turning over the word debauchery in his head. Some people—maybe even most people—would associate the word with something dirty. Something wrong, and taboo. Something excessive. But he didn’t see it that way. Debauchery, as far as he was concerned, was just another word for fun, and as long as that fun was consensual and wasn’t hurting anyone, he didn’t have any issues with it. It was immensely satisfying, living life to its fullest, experiencing all the pleasures it had to offer. Debauchery was freedom, and that freedom was everything. The key to happiness. Shackling himself to some woman—only one woman, God, he shuddered at the thought—because it was what society (and worse, his family) expected of him was a one-way ticket to misery. He’d seen that scenario play out first hand, more than once, and just like he’d turned his back on the family business, his refusal to settle down was both a declaration of freedom and act of pure rebellion.
He snorted and shook his head as he shut off the shower and stepped out, wondering how many other people walked away from running a multimillion dollar corporation in order to become a beat cop. But he’d never regretted his choice, not even for a single day. Thanks to his trust fund, he’d never have to worry about money for the rest of his life, and thanks to his job as an elite undercover detective, he got to spend his time cleaning up the streets of Atlanta. And because he’d refused to entertain his family’s expectations, he got to wake up with not one, but two beautiful women in his bed.
His life, as far as Jack was concerned, was perfect. Complete. Not lacking in a single damn thing.
He dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist, then rubbed a bit of pomade between his palms and then ran his hands through his thick hair. He stepped out of the bathroom, happiness washing over him at the view. The empty bottles of Moet & Chandon. The gorgeously sated women still sleeping in his bed. The sunshine streaming in through the windows of his penthouse apartment. He strode to them, taking in the impressive view of the Atlanta skyline. His city, the one he’d sworn to protect. A sense of pride and duty filled him, and he took a deep breath, soaking it in.
He heard a soft rustling noise from behind him and turned. Simone sat with the sheet twisted around her, her knees pulled up to her chest and her head resting on them. Her halo of messy curls fanned out around her pretty face.
“Enjoying the view?” she asked, her voice rusty with sleep. He nodded and she bit her lip. “Me too.” A playful glint flickered in her eyes, and Jack shook his head and moved toward the walk-in closet on the far side of the room. He caught Simone’s pout out of the corner of his eye and smiled.
He grabbed a black V-neck T-shirt and tugged it on over his head, and then pulled on boxers and a pair of jeans. As he zipped up, he glanced wistfully at his row of suits, knowing he’d catch endless amounts of shit from his team if he showed up to the station in Armani.
“Are you sure you have to go?” asked Simone, smiling ruefully at him. He gathered up his phone, wallet and keys and then slipped his badge into his pocket. He walked over to the bed and kissed her forehead.
“Bad guys aren’t going to arrest themselves.” And while he didn’t need this job, it needed him. What he did made a difference, and to him, that mattered.
“You mind if I hang out here for a bit? You know I love that bathtub.” She pointed toward his master bath, which held a massive freestanding tub nestled against windows that provided a bird’s eye view of the Buckhead neighborhood.
“Sure. You and . . .” His eyes darted to the redhead, who was still snoring softly. He winced slightly. “Your friend can stay as long as you like. Help yourself to whatever. Mildred will be here around noon, I think.”
