Chapter 38: Chapter 37

“Rho, hand to God, this is better than anything I have ever tasted,” Carlos said as he shoved a mouthful of the balsamic chicken pasta into his mouth.

Silas nodded. “I gotta be honest, I wasn’t sure when we pulled up. It looked like fancy food. But, damn, it’s good.”

I couldn’t help laughing at that. Apparently, pasta containing spinach and goat cheese was suspect to a construction crew. But I’d won them over.

“I’d never steer you wrong,” I said with a grin.

“Thanks, Rho. You’re spoiling us rotten,” Shep said, getting another helping from the massive aluminum baking dish I’d used.

“I like having the project,” I said, leaning back in the folding chair.

Busy. I’d needed to stay busy. Because after the flowers, I hadn’t been allowed to go anywhere alone. At first, Trace had stationed a deputy at the nursery. But it was really more of a bodyguard. They followed me everywhere I went, and it scared customers.

I’d finally asked Duncan if it would be easier if I took some vacation time. He’d hemmed and hawed but eventually admitted it might be a good idea. It killed, stepping away from my job, even temporarily, but it was the right thing to do.

So, I’d worked on my garden at the guest cottage. After a week, the whole thing was brimming with so much color and foliage I didn’t have room for a single new plant. Then, I’d moved on to cooking. Every day, Anson dutifully drove me to the grocery store, and I loaded up on ingredients. The crew acted as my test dummies. I’d made elaborate meals for the past week and change, getting more and more intricate as I went.

But it wasn’t enough. I was still twitchy. There’d been no more notes, threats, fires, or collisions. Instead, it felt like a creepy waiting game.

A hand slid over my thigh, squeezing gently in silent reassurance. I looked over at Anson. He still wore a mostly blank expression around the crew. But around me, he smiled more. Even laughed. And I soaked up all of it.

He leaned over and brushed his lips across my temple. “Best one yet.”

His touch eased the worst of my fraying nerves, but the frenetic energy still pulsed through me. The need to get up and do something. Maybe I needed to train for a marathon. That would tire me out.

An image of half a dozen deputies running with me filled my mind. Because that was what Trace would require if I started jogging. My shoulders slumped.

Silas sent me a hopeful look. “You make dessert tonight?”

Carlos cuffed him on the back of the head. “Don’t be greedy.”

Shep chuckled. “When it comes to food, he’s always going to be a greedy bastard.”

Silas patted his stomach. “Takes a lot of energy to look this good.”

I just shook my head but stood and pushed my chair back. Dashing into the kitchen, I grabbed the baking dish sitting on the counter and headed back outside.

Lifting the baking dish into the air, I grinned. “Chocolate peanut butter poke cake.”

Silas groaned. “Chocolate, peanut butter, and cake? All of my favorite things in one.”

Carlos just started clapping.

At least I had my community amid all the upheaval in my life. People who made me smile and laugh, who were there in good times and bad. And when I really thought about it, that’s what you needed in life: people who helped you make the best out of any circumstances.

We demolished the cake. The guys told stories of ridiculous things that had happened on past jobs. I laughed to the point of tears. And then they all helped me clean up.

One by one, they left for the day, until only Shep and Anson remained. “Hey,” I said, glancing at Shep. “What happened to Owen?”

It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear for a few days. He’d take off on his bike and ride, probably end up shacked up in a roadside motel with whatever woman he could talk into bed. But I hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Shep winced. “I had to fire him.”

My eyes widened. “Seriously?” It wasn’t that I didn’t think Owen had earned that with his behavior over the years, but I never thought Shep would actually pull the trigger.

“It was time. I wanted to give him a chance to grow up, to change, but it just never happened.”

I wrapped my arms around Shep in a hug. “You’re a good one.”

Shep hugged me back and then ruffled my hair. “So are you. Thanks for the incredible food.”

“Anytime. I’m thinking Mediterranean bowls tomorrow.”

Shep chuckled. “Can’t wait to see what they think of that.” He gave Anson a chin lift. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Anson echoed.

Shep headed out the back door, and Anson locked it behind him. I hit the start button on the dishwasher and closed it, peeking over the island to make sure Biscuit was still sleeping in his bed. Since the dinners had started, he’d come around the crew. They played fetch with him and gave him scratches now. It wouldn’t be long before he was ready for adoption.

Anson’s hands landed on my shoulders, kneading the muscles there. I let out a moan. “I’ll give you forever to stop doing that.”

He chuckled. “Gonna tell me what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”

I turned to face him, leaning into his body. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been off. Going a million miles a minute, hardly sitting down for more than a handful of seconds, never calming.”

I scowled at him. “You know, there are downsides to dating a profiler. You see too much.”

Anson grinned and brushed his lips over my temple. “Not a profiler. Just a guy who works construction.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “There are downsides to dating a handyman with a genius brain.”

He nipped my earlobe. “Talk to me, Rho.”

I sighed. “I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin. I like being productive. Having a purpose. I’m just spinning my wheels with too much energy to burn. I’ve been half-tempted to ask Shep to give me a job.”

Anson slid his hand up my spine, his fingers curling around the back of my neck and squeezing. “I think you’d look pretty damn hot rocking a tool belt.”

I grinned up at him. “The one time I tried to help with something, I broke my thumb with a hammer.”

Anson winced. “Maybe we keep you away from the tools, then.”

“Unfortunately, that’s probably a good idea.”

His fingers slid into my hair. “I can think of a few other things that might burn away a little of that energy.”

All the minuscule nerve endings in my body woke up at Anson’s words. “Can you now?”

A sly smile spread across his face. “You wanna play, Reckless?”

My skin began humming with the promise of what was to come, already knowing the pleasure Anson could bring. “Yes.”

He moved then, taking my hand and tugging me toward the bedroom. The moment we were inside, he shut the door behind us. It closed with a quiet snick, but the noise sounded more like a cannon in the silent room.

“You sure you want to play?” Anson asked, grit and need coating his voice.

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Strip.” The single word was a command. The force behind it had a shiver skating over my skin, but there was nothing unpleasant about it.

I kicked off one flip-flop and then the other, stepping onto the lush carpet in my bedroom. My gaze dipped as I moved for the hem of my tank top, but Anson wasn’t having that.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered.

My focus shot to him. The blue in his eyes sparked and swirled, need blooming there. I didn’t look away, and my fingers hooked in the cotton. Tugging it up and over my head, I lost sight of Anson for the briefest moment. And then he was there again, eyes blazing.

I reached behind my back, fingers unfastening the clasp of my bra.

“Slowly,” Anson gritted out.

My pace eased, and I felt everything. The way my breathing quickened. The sensation of the lace skating across my skin. And maybe that was what Anson was after. For me to be in the here and now.

As my bra fell to the floor, Anson’s hand lifted. His thumb grazed his bottom lip as he stared at me, the sun streaming in. “Could look at you for years and still see something new every time.”

My pulse thrummed in my neck as he took one step toward me and then another.

“Like this little freckle.” He bent, his lips grazing the mark resting just below my collarbone.

My breath hitched.

Anson straightened, everything in his body tight, restrained. “Climb on the bed.”

I licked my lips. “I thought I was supposed to strip.” I was still wearing my shorts.

“Such sass,” Anson muttered. But then he moved. So fast I gasped. He grabbed hold of my shorts and underwear, yanking them down. He stared up at me as the movements slowed, lifting one leg out and then the other. “Now, you don’t have to.”

I certainly didn’t.

Anson’s gaze didn’t waver. “Climb onto the bed.”

My heart hammered as I took one step back and then another. When I hit the edge of the mattress, I turned, climbing on just as he’d instructed.

An audible breath sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and locked eyes with Anson. He stroked himself over his jeans. “That ass. Gonna kill me.”

Heat rose to my cheeks—not embarrassment, but pleasure.

“Lay on your back. Arms above your head,” Anson gritted out.

A flicker of nervousness shot through me, but I obeyed. Nestling into the pillows, I lifted my arms.

“Grab the headboard.” Anson’s voice was more growl than anything else, the sound sending a fresh wave of shivers coursing through me. My fingers curled around the wrought iron bars.

Anson took a step forward, unbuckling his belt. He tore the leather from the loops on his jeans in one fluid movement, and my jaw went slack. He kicked off one boot and then the other, then climbed onto the bed.

There was something about being completely naked while Anson hovered over me, still fully clothed. It heightened everything in my body. The feel of the breeze through the open window. The way the soft cotton of his shirt brushed my nipples.

Anson reached above me, weaving his belt through the bars and around my wrists. My pulse kicked into overdrive as he fastened the leather and gave it a testing tug. His face was close to mine but not touching in any way. “Too tight?”

I gave my head a tiny shake. “No.”

“Good.”

Then he was off me and the bed. He moved to my nightstand, opening the top drawer and pawing through the contents.

“Hey,” I protested. “What’re you doing?”

Anson shot me a wicked grin. “That first day in the hallway, the time you left me with the worst case of blue balls known to man?” I just gaped at him in response. “You threatened me with a toy. And I think it’s time for a little retribution.”

“You’re not,” I said through gritted teeth.

He opened the second drawer, and his eyes lit up. “Bingo.”

Anson pulled out a black velvet drawstring bag. Opening it, he retrieved a compact, gold bullet vibrator.

My face flamed. “Anson,” I growled.

He rolled it between his fingers, testing the weight and then turning it on and testing the speeds. “Perfect.”

He moved to the end of the bed. “Spread your legs. Time for me to give you a little of the torture you’ve given me.”

Oh, hell.

Heat and wetness pooled in my core. But I wanted to obey. Wanted to be at this man’s mercy.

Slowly, I parted my legs.

“Such a beautiful sight,” Anson murmured, his gaze fixed on the apex of my thighs.

He lifted one knee onto the bed and then the other, settling between my legs.

“Already glistening for me.”

My hips rocked against the mattress, needing some sort of contact, anything.

“My greedy girl,” Anson cooed.

He trailed a single finger up my thigh to my center. That finger circled my opening, teasing, toying. I whimpered, trying to shift my hips to get more of him.

Anson’s other hand whipped out, sending a stinging slap across my thigh. “Still.”

The sting of one hand crashed against the pleasure of the other in a delicious stew of sensation. All I wanted to do was move. Get more. But I stilled. My hands tightened on the headboard’s metal bars.

“Good girl,” Anson murmured and slid two fingers inside me.

I let out another whimper, my legs and hips dying to move.

“Let’s see how still you can stay.” Anson’s fingers slid in and out of me, over and over. It was a torturously slow pace, completely unhurried.

My mouth opened and closed, trying to back my demands for more.

“So perfect,” he crooned, and then his fingers curled in a come-hither motion.

I moaned. It was loud and desperate, but I didn’t even care. Anson hadn’t said a damn thing about being quiet.

“I love the noises you make. The whimpers and moans. The way you suck me in, desperate for more.”

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

“How about now?” Anson twisted the vibrator until a buzz filled the air. “Think you can stay still now?”

The cool metal of the bullet almost made me jump as he touched it to my skin. Then the vibration lit through my muscles.

“Anson…”

“So beautiful when you beg,” he growled, circling my clit with the bullet as his fingers thrust in and out of me.

“I can’t,” I whimpered. “I have to move.”

“You can. Hold it, Reckless.”

I gripped the metal bars harder, the belt biting into my wrists. The tiny flicker of pain helped, but it also drove me higher.

Anson slid a third finger inside me as he circled the vibrator closer to that bundle of nerves. “Such a good girl.”

Tears filled my eyes. Ones of a desperate need to let go—of all these sensations, but also everything I’d been holding in. The stress, the fear, the anger.

“Anson,” I pleaded.

“Almost. You’re almost there. A little more.”

My thighs shook from the effort it took to keep from moving them. My wrists ached from pulling against my bonds. Everything inside me trembled as black dots danced across my vision. Peaks and valleys swept through me as I tried to hold back the full force of them.

“Now,” Anson commanded.

My hips arched into him as he pressed the bullet to my clit, his fingers driving in and pressing down on my G-spot. Everything hit me all at once: the hint of pain and the tsunami of pleasure.

I cried out as I shattered. Wave after wave engulfed me. Anson coaxed and corralled each crest and break, playing my body like a master musician. Just when I thought he was done, he’d wring another out of me, over and over until I collapsed onto the mattress, unable to move.

Anson shifted, shutting off the vibrator and moving to lay next to me, his fingers tracing a million different designs on my bare skin. “What’s in that beautiful brain now?”

“Nothing,” I muttered, barely coherent. “Absolutely nothing.” And it was glorious.

“Good.” Anson unfastened the belt, rubbing each wrist as he freed it. “Never seen a more beautiful sight than watching you shatter.”

I curled into him and the beautiful, heady haze he’d given me. Three little words played on my tongue, but I held them back. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“I’ll always give you what you need, Reckless.”

And Anson had. Because now I was floating in that afterglow bliss where everything was just a bit fuzzy in the very best way.

But then his phone rang and ruined everything.