Toeing the Line (The Complete Serial) (9 page)

Chapter Twelve

Riley didn’t want to go through the front door. She didn’t want to do this in front of Archer and every other customer in the shop, but Zane was in there, behind the counter, not looking quite genuine as he laughed with his friends. She pushed inside, and Archer grinned.

“Hey. Are you here for the manga after all?” he asked.

She was there for her drawings, but she knew that wasn’t what he meant. She looked at Zane, hoping her expression conveyed how desperately she didn’t want to discuss details. “Technically.”

Zane straightened up. “Hey.”

“I need back that thing you borrowed yesterday.” It took a force of will to keep the tension from her voice. She didn’t care that Zane still had her sketchpad; she
didn’t want to talk about it with an audience. Her ego was bruised enough without another dig from Archer. But asking if she and Zane could talk privately would expose
as much of her.

“So this is what it’s like to be on the outside of her vague questions.” Archer looked back and forth between them, his tone too light, given the tension in the room.

Zane rolled his eyes and turned to Riley, expression softening. “It’s in my apartment.”

“Sounds perfect.” She ignored the way Archer clenched his jaw, and followed Zane upstairs. When he held his apartment door open for her, she brushed past without a word, pacing the short distance between the living room and kitchen areas before turning on her toe and heading in the other direction.

He leaned back against the door, hands in his pockets. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing. Just… Nothing. I need my sketchpad back.”

He kicked away from the door and crossed the room to stand next to the kitchen table, directly in her pacing path. “It’s obviously not nothing.”

“You think?” She came up short, a few feet back. “You really can’t figure it out?” An irritation she hadn’t realized was there surged forward.

He shrugged.

“You can’t just go around telling everyone what I’m trying to do with my art.”

“I won’t, if you ask me not to, but can I at least know why?”

She clenched her teeth. How could he not get it? “Because of conversations like this. Because even though it’s awesome that you support my decision, you don’t understand what it takes. Kenzie and Archer—they don’t get it. Every time they voice their opinion, it’s another layer of doubt, taunting me and telling me I’m making a mistake. It’s more pressure and doesn’t help that I’m terrified of showing my work to a lot of people.”

The confession was out, and though it left a gnawing in her gut, it also felt good.

The corners of his mouth drooped. “I didn’t realize.”

She sighed. “I adore you—you know it—and I’m flattered you think I’m talented. I’m not sure you’re right, but I like hearing it.”

He closed the distance between them. “You should have told me sooner.”

“I’m telling you now.”

His smile grew hopeful. “I promise I’ll try to keep it all in mind. Are we’re good again?” Zane asked.

She smiled. “Yeah, we’re good again.”

“Which means make-up sex.” The way he raked his gaze over her, lingering on each curve, contradicted his teasing tone.

She couldn’t help her relieved laugh or the flush of heat the idea brought with it. “Technically, I don’t think we get make-up sex without a breakup, and we can’t have one of those..”

“Okay.” He traced a finger down the side of her face. “Then best-friend sex.”

“Is that a thing?”

He brushed his lips along the outside of her ear. “Isn’t it? Besides”—his voice dropped an octave—“I can’t stop thinking about how tight and wet you were last night. How you let me take control.”

The confidence in his words made her skin tingle and her pulse race. “It was pretty amazing.”

“Amazing.” He trailed his fingers up her spine. “I like that. Would you let me do it again?”

Warmth spread deep in her belly. “Maybe.”

“Uh-uh.” He broke contact with her but didn’t pull away. “
Yes
-or-
no
question. I know what I want, but I’m not doing it unless you’re sure.”

She swallowed, body humming in anticipation. “I’m positive.”

Her comment was cut short when he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. He twisted his fingers in her hair and pulled her back to him, crushing his mouth against hers. The smell of sweat mingled with the scents of musk and deodorant. An insistent need grew between her legs.

She covered his other hand and pushed it farther up her thigh, hooking her knee on his hip. Something whispered in the back of her mind that they couldn’t keep toeing this line. She ignored it. This was exactly what she wanted. She needed to be closer to him.

He slid his hand along her ass and up over the curve of her hip, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. He moved his mouth back to her neck, his breath tickling her skin. “During the entire movie, I couldn’t stop daydreaming about how it felt to be buried inside you.”

The confession in his words made her thoughts melt and her skin ache for more. She fumbled for a good comeback, but her attempts failed when he grazed the soft spot between her neck and shoulders and sucked on the sensitive flesh.

He found the seam of her jeans that ran between her legs. She whimpered when he applied pressure with his fingers, rubbing her already wet slit through denim. She dug her nails into his back, squeaked, and shifted her weight until her aching button settled under his touch. He massaged harder, and she ground against his hand, feeling her climax build.

Her breathing came in short gasps, so many points of contact making her light-headed. Disappointment washed over her when he pulled away.

He kissed her pout and then moved to stand behind her, leaving her between him and the table. He brushed the outside of her ear with his lips and rested his hands on her stomach. “You trust me, right?”

She swallowed, mouth dry from anticipation, not doubt. She made sure her answer was clear, without any waver. “Yes.”

His chest was hot against her back. “And you’re okay with wherever this goes?”

“More than okay.” Her heart hammered, as a million images of what he meant taunted her simultaneously.

He tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. “No bra. Makes this easier.”

He moved his hands to her breasts and kneaded the soft flesh. She arched her back against him when he finally reached her nipples. He pinched both at the same time and fire spread through every inch of her. He bit the soft skin between her neck and shoulder, sucking in time to her moans. His hard arousal dug into her ass. She wanted more, but she also wanted to stretch the moment out and enjoy the prolonged teasing.

He dropped his hands to her waist, not fumbling at all as he undid her jeans. He hooked his thumbs over the waistband and tugged everything to the floor, leaving her exposed from head to foot, and binding her ankles.

Cool air rushed in around her, and her pulse pounded under her skin. She’d never had a guy take control like this before. She and Zane had talked about it several times. Now that it was actually happening, it made her head fuzzy, and she wanted more.

He cupped her ass before sliding his hand between her legs. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” His growl vibrated through her back.

“I think you had a lot to do with that.” She closed her eyes, focusing on as many sensations as she could.

He massaged her slit, not dipping inside or reaching high enough to brush her clit. He placed his free palm against her spine and pushed her forward.

She did as prompted, bending at the waist and leaning over the table. The hard oak pressed into her chest and aching nipples. He held her in place. Her desire swelled when he dropped his hand from between her legs, and the faint but familiar sound of a zipper greeted her. A few seconds later, she heard the crinkle of cellophane.

He ran his hands from her shoulders down her arms, and pulled her wrists together. He grabbed both hands in one of his and pinned them in the small of her back. He spread her lower lips with his fingers, teasing her entrance.

She couldn’t hold out much longer. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me.”

He chuckled. There was no warning before he pushed inside, and her moan echoed off the table at the exquisite pain of being stretched out so much, so fast. He didn’t let up, grunting as he pounded against her. The friction of having her legs together, combined with the spot he hit in her pushed her toward climax hard and fast. Her breathing came in short gasps, and she couldn’t hold back the cries as she came.

She clenched around his cock, his erection buried deep inside her. She gasped when he found her clit at the height of her orgasm, and he rubbed the throbbing button. Part of her wanted to pull away, because it was almost too much, but the pleasure continued to assault her in waves. He slammed inside her, and her nipples scuffed against the wood grain with each new thrust. Another orgasm taunted her, bringing her right to the edge, but not further.

His breathing grew shallower, his thrusts more abbreviated and frantic. “I want you to come for me again.” It was a command, not a request. Instead of teasing, he pressed his fingers roughly against her clit.

The sensation tore a climax from her, and she came hard, tightening around him. He pulled his fingers away from the now too-sensitive region between her legs. His grunts were fast and heavy, ending with the sound she knew so well and loved hearing on the phone. Hearing him get off was even better in person. The pounding slowed and then came to a stop.

He let go of her wrists and moved his hands to her hips, as he and she struggled to catch their breath. She pushed up to her elbows, wincing as her legs wobbled and threatened to give out. He collapsed into a nearby chair, and was tender, helping her find her balance and then tugging her to sit on his lap.

She rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. His heart hammered against her palm.

He brushed his lips along the outside of her ear, his teasing voice barely a whisper. “I know it’s not why you came over, but it’s definitely a plus.”

She smiled at the gentle sensation and struggled to find her voice. “I can’t believe you did that.” It had never felt so good in her imagination.

He traced his fingers up her bare spine. “It seemed appropriate.”

“I’m not complaining. You should trust your instinct more often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” A tiny waver lined his laugh. As if he held back… again. Or she was imagining things that weren’t there, when she should be falling into this moment and enjoying it as the flash in time it was.

He tightened his grip around her, and the feeling echoed in her chest, squeezing around her heart. She snuggled closer and tried to blank out her mind.

Chapter Thirteen

Zane struggled to bring focus to his jumbled thoughts. He trudged from the glass building, toward his truck at the back of the business-center parking lot. Another interview down.

Fuck.
He wanted to yell into the wide open space. All the people coming and going might not appreciate that, and the last thing he needed was to make his situation worse.

He’d been doing great in there, as far as he could tell. Getting along with the panel of interviewers, comprised of a manager and several peers. He’d aced all the technical questions. They were a little easy, but he couldn’t be picky at this point. Then the manager asked about on-the-job experience, digging for details. Zane gave them as much as he could. The way the conversation closed off after that point told him it wasn’t enough.

Maybe he’d hear back from them. He doubted it. His mood shifted another notch closer to
irritated
when he saw the woman leaning against his truck. Slacks. Long legs. Black hair pulled into a tight bun. His former commanding officer… And ex-girlfriend.

A rush of images surged into his thoughts. Plaguing. Taunting. Tormenting. Digging into his core, until the graphic images and guilt threatened to devour him. He swallowed down the memories her presence summoned, pasted a cool smile in place, and paused when he was within conversation distance. “Sabrina.”

She pushed away from the truck, and gave him full salute. “You wear the suit well, Sergeant.”

The formality burrowed under his calm. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t returning my calls, so I’m trying a new approach.” Her tone was pleasant and smooth. He knew the voice—it was the one she used when tried to coax something out of someone. To figure out how they ticked. To glean enough to shift the conversation in her favor.

He wasn’t interested in letting that happen. “And if you track me down, say, in front of a potential employer’s office, rather than at home, you figure I’ll be polite. I’ll rephrase my question. How did you find me here?”

“I’m a spy.” A tiny smile danced on her lips, and a giggle laced her words.

A few years ago, he fell for the act. He knew better now. “I have someplace else to be.”

“If you were me, how would you have found you?” Her tone went flat, and the teasing vanished.

He ticked through a mental list of the options. She might have used the same methods they did back then, when they worked together. Gotten to know a friend of his and dragged out enough information to penetrate his computer. His ego wouldn’t let him believe that could slip by him. “GPS on my phone.”

“See? This is child’s play for you. How’d the interview go?”

He stepped around her. “Have a nice day, Captain.”

“The job won’t be on the table much longer.”

He paused with his hand on the door of the truck. “Which is fine. My answer hasn’t changed.”

“Let’s go somewhere and talk. Coffee, conversation, catching up… It’ll be like old times.”

He clenched his jaw at the fresh wave of
old times
memories. Not just the results of his actions, but the relationship he had with her. “Not interested. If this is a limited-time offer, pull it now and go find someone else. Unless there’s a reason you want it to be me.”

Her bitter chuckle was enough to draw his gaze, and he turned to face her again. She clucked. “Check your ego at the door, Sergeant. You’re not the best. Not anymore. But you’re still incredible, and your motivations go beyond cash.” The word
incredible
rolled off her tongue with smooth sensuality.

He never should have gotten involved with her. “Most people know that about me.”

“Fine. I’ll drop the pretenses. You’re not going to find better somewhere else. This position will push your limits and give you access to top-secret technology. And don’t bother playing the
morals
card. We both know that’s a fuzzy line for you. If you’d walk away from your unrealistic fantasy of a civilian life, you could admit you’re perfect for the kind of work I’m proposing.”

“I’m not.” He yanked the car door open harder than he intended. “The answer’s still no. Have a good afternoon.”

His hand shook as he started the truck and backed out of its spot. The confrontation wasn’t a big deal. A stilted conversation, at worst. Her words haunted him though. The certainty he’d cave again. That regardless of how hard he tried to convince himself he wasn’t that man, her offer was more tempting than ever. Not only because he couldn’t find work, but because she was right. It would push his limits. He’d gain so much experience.

He stowed his doubt under familiar reassurances. There was no reason for him to go back to that. He’d learned that lesson. The words repeated in his head as he drove home, running round and round until he believed them.

 

****

 

The familiar scents of paper and glass cleaner greeted Riley when she pushed into the comic store. Archer looked up from his spot across the room the moment the door chimed, and his smile grew when he saw her.

“Hey.” His greeting was warm.

“Hey, yourself.”

His smile wilted a little. “You’re not here for me.”

Guilt that it was so obvious tickled her senses. She could at least make small talk. “I didn’t say that. What’s up?”

He shook his head and stepped aside. “Nice try, but I’m not buying it. He’s upstairs.”

“Archer.” She reached out but dropped her hand before it connected with him. What was she going to say? She couldn’t give him false hope. An apology didn’t sound appropriate, since she hadn’t done anything wrong.

He stepped farther away. “No big deal. I have work to do, anyway.”

Relief at the quick reprieve made her guilt grow, and she wove her way through the store and toward the back stairs without much more than a quick goodbye. She should have gone through the back entrance and avoided Archer altogether, but old habits died hard.

She still struggled with feeling bad about not feeling bad for brushing Archer off when she knocked on Zane’s door.

“’S open.”

She pushed inside, latched the door shut behind her, and flipped the lock into place. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her it might be a good idea.

Zane stood at the opposite end of the room in the kitchen area, leaning against the counter near the sink, and eating a Popsicle. He gave her an exaggerated wink. “Do anything for you, baby?”

Some of her tension evaporated at the display. She laughed and crossed the room. “Are you saying you’re interested in letting me watch you lick phallic things?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” She pushed out her lower lip. Stepping forward, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and sucked the sweet slowly into her mouth, devouring the entire length before pulling back with a slurp. A low groan tore from his throat. She licked her lips, eyes wide and—she hoped—innocent, as she looked at him again.

He tossed the Popsicle in the sink. “You’re evil. Like a hundred and twenty percent.”

She stepped away, thumbs in her pockets, tugging down the waistband of her jeans. “Are you complaining?”

“Not even close.” He nudged her toward the couch and nodded at the laptop on the coffee table. “Watch with me.”

She dropped onto the futon next to him, her arm brushing his. “What are we watching?” She blinked and looked a second time.
He wasn’t.
Really?

Thin, animated girls, with Crayola-colored hair and skirts so short they didn’t even cover their asses, battled evil cartoon villains. “Why are you watching
Sailor Moon
?”

“I wanted to see something.”

“The subtle lesbian subtext?” She knew a lot of people loved the show and considered it their introduction to anime—Japanese cartoons—but she’d never been able to get into it.

“Honestly…” He shifted in his seat and rested his arm on the back of the couch, his attention on her. “It’s really a more in-your-face kind of thing. Also, I was thinking about how cool it would be if that were your stuff. Can you imagine them animating your drawings?”

She could. She had. “It’s still an excuse.”

He shrugged. “It is. I was bored. I didn’t know what you’d want to watch, so I grabbed something I thought might make me laugh.”

She leaned her head on his arm, enjoying the warmth of his skin against hers. “Did it work?”

“Absolutely. It’s hilarious. You should try it.”

She twisted her mouth. He knew how she felt about the show.

He pulled his arm away so he could turn back to the laptop screen, but settled his hand on her leg. “Give it a try, keeping in mind you’re supposed to laugh.”

She rested her fingers on his. Had they always been this physical and intimate, even as friends? The question came from nowhere, and she pushed it aside. “All right. I’ll try.”

He glanced at her. “Just remember, if any of the intense battles get to be too much, I’m here for you.”

“You’re such a gentleman like that.”

Intense battles. Dork
. Still, it gave her an idea. He let his attention drift back to the show, and she did the same. Her opportunity was coming soon. The music and creepy feeling on the screen helped the cartoon-tension build.

The moment the villain burst onto the scene, flamboyant and sparkling with black glitter, she screamed and buried her face in his chest.

He jumped. “Holy shit.” His out a frantic rhythm. “You scared the crap out of me.”

She laughed, face against his ribs. Warmth seeped into her ear, as she listened to his racing heart. She inhaled softly, breathing in the comforting scent of body wash and deodorant. “Sorry.” She didn’t sound remotely apologetic. “You sure you’re not the one who needs a place to hide?”

“I’m good like this.” His voice took on a husky tone, and he trailed his fingers through her hair.

She pulled away, retort catching in her throat when she saw the way he watched her. Heat spread over her face. She adjusted her weight on the futon, turning to face him. Snippets of the day before flashed through her mind, making her body tingle. She kissed him, not resisting when he ran his hands up her arms and then held her in place by the back of her neck.

She broke away, loving the question and want in his eyes. Smirking, she trailed her finger down the side of his face. She shifted into his lap and straddled his legs. “Getting comfortable.”

He moved his hands to her lower back, pulled her close, and returned the kiss, scraping her bottom lip with his teeth and not letting her go.

She pressed her chest against his, their thin tees not providing much of a barrier. His heat mingled with the brush of fabric on her nipples, and she moved against him to build the friction.

He slid his hands to her ass, making her arch her back. She broke away long enough to look him in the eye, her breath coming out in needy bursts. “We seem to be making a habit of this.”

He nipped at her lower lip, and then glided his mouth down her jaw, until his lips found the hollow at the base of her neck. “It’s because you’re so addictive.” His words vibrated against her skin.

Desire thrummed through her, leaving every nerve ending screaming for more. Heat pulsed between her legs. She didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but she had to know what this was. It would be all right. He’d confirm they were still friends and give her a hint of where this was going, and they could keep making out. “For how long?”

“I don’t… I mean…” He pulled away, uncertainty marring his smile.

That’s not how he was supposed to respond. She went rigid. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

A frown slipped in, to obliterate his amusement. “We’re just fooling around. That was the deal.”

“Yeah, of course.” Her heart thudded in her chest like a rock grinding against her ribs.

“I didn’t realize things had evolved. Do you want more?”

Why had she let her heart wander down this path? He was supposed to be happy about the question. Tell her he felt the same way. That she wasn’t the only one falling hard and fast.

Wait.
Falling?
She knew better than to attach herself to a guy because she slept with him. “Of course not. Forget I brought it up.” She extracted herself from his lap and stood in front of him.

“Riley.” He grasped her fingers, holding her in place.

She stared down at him, hating the hope that surged inside and mingled with desire. Did this mean more than flirting and getting off? Would he say it?

He looked away, dropping her hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

Damn it
. Hurt throbbed in every muscle. It really was a game to him. “It’s cool.
Friends with benefits
—that’s all this is.” She shifted from one foot to the other, frowning deeper when she caught a glimpse of something leaning against the far wall. How had she missed that before? “Is that my sketchpad?” She grabbed her beloved book, her confusion growing.

“You kept forgetting to pick it up.”

“You changed the subject when I asked for it.”

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