Destiny's Dream Page 15

  Destiny: Regardless, I need a fake ex-boyfriend. Someone who had a gambling problem.

  She tapped her foot impatiently as she stared at the phone. Coop had jumped up on the bed and sprawled out. Damn dog had gotten attached to her as much as she to him.

  Uncle Richard: I wouldn’t want to pull you out and make people suspicious. So, we’d have to create a diversion. A death in the family, or some other major reason that would allow us to monitor the situation to see if we really need to create a new identify. And to be frank, I don’t think my boss is going to sign off because the cases are not related.

  Destiny: You want me to stay? You think it’s safe?

  Uncle Richard: I do.

  Uncle Richard: Your ex-boyfriend is a man named Chevy Lewiston. I’ve got my IT guys creating a fake profile right now that will have a few images of you and him together. They’ve already started building it, but it’s going to take a half hour or so to make it all stick.

  Destiny: I have to give Mason a name and a story.

  Uncle Richard: Chevy is known for running poker tables but hasn’t been caught. He also is a known con artist.

  Destiny: Isn’t that a little too close for comfort?

  Uncle Richard: Sometimes that’s the best way to go. Here’s the Facebook account we just set up.

  Destiny clicked on the link and stared at a man with blonde, curly hair that fell to his shoulders. He had ice-blue eyes. He wore a white button-down shirt and a pair of jeans. She quickly scanned as much as she could, so she’d have enough information to give Mason. She hated lying to him, but she had to.

  Uncle Richard: Just give Mason the name. Tell him it’s still too painful to talk about. I’ll work on an exit plan.

  Destiny: Thanks.

  She tucked the phone in her back pocket and headed downstairs, Coop nipping at her ankles.

  Another dog she’d miss.

  “How’s your uncle?” Mason leaned against the kitchen counter.

  “Worried about me. He wants me to come home, and I just might do that.”

  Mason nodded. “Is that where your ex is?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, especially if he’s not a good person. Maybe your uncle can come here for a few days.”

  “I’d rather go stay with him,” she said.

  “What’s your ex-boyfriend’s name?”

  “Chevy Lewiston. He’s never been caught running poker tables, but that’s what he does. When I found out, I dumped him. That didn’t go over well.”

  “Did he hit you?”

  “No.”

  She watched as Mason tapped away on the screen on his cell phone. Her heart pounded in her chest. Lying had never bothered her in the past.

  But lying to Mason twisted her gut in knots.

  “Thank you for telling me,” Mason said, seemingly satisfied in his search. “I sent the information to Blaine. That way, if there is a connection between your ex and Trip, we’ll be able to better protect you.” Mason closed the gap. He reached out and brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m sorry you’ve struggled.”

  “We all have our crosses to bear.”

  “I’m still sorry. I find myself caring for you in ways I swore I wouldn’t allow.” He tipped his head and pressed his full lips on hers.

  Her body betrayed her as she greeted his tongue with a warm, swirling welcome. Her mind screamed for her to stop. Being with Mason could only lead to trouble. She fisted her hand in his shirt. “No. No. No,” she whispered. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. We’ve got plenty of time to get to know each other.”

  She shook her head, praying the tears didn’t come to her eyes. “I can’t. I’m not staying in this town. I’m sorry. I have to go. I need to get ready to go to Blaine’s for their little girl’s party.” She shoved Mason to the side and made a beeline for the door. She bolted across the yard, not looking back.

  Her next placement was going to either be where she could become a hermit, or in a big city where she could get lost in the shuffle.

  Small towns sucked.

  No, they didn’t.

  Not when they had men like Mason.

  Fuck. She slammed her door shut and locked it. A nice, hot shower and a good cry was exactly what she needed. Maybe then she could get through the party without losing her shit.

  Destiny set her hair dryer on the sink and picked up her phone.

  Ten text messages from Mason, all asking if she was okay and if they could go to Blaine’s together. Being alone would be stupid.

  And stupidity was something she was totally done with.

  Destiny: We can go together. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.

  Mason: Are you okay? I’m sorry if I upset you.

  Destiny: I’m fine. See you in a bit.

  She checked herself in the mirror one last time. She had to admit, she looked kind of cute in her red-and-white sundress with a pair of white sandals, something she wouldn’t have been caught dead in a year ago. Nothing but designer dresses, three-inch heels, and a pile of makeup that took three washes to get off her face at night.

  A sense of sadness filled her heart. She had started to like Destiny Baker and who she was becoming. She’d managed to allow to rise parts of her that had been buried so deep after she found out what a horrible human being Lucas was, and it felt damn good.

  Until this Trip guy destroyed it for her along with any chance of being with a man like Mason.

  She sighed. She didn’t want a man like Mason; she wanted Mason. She half wished she had seduced him last night before he’d been called away.

  Or even this morning, only she hadn’t handled Jake’s murder too well.

  Nor had he. She could tell he’d been crying.

  Yeah. Mason was one of the good guys. That’s why she couldn’t have him.

  The bell rang, followed by a happy yelp.

  When she pulled back the door, she bit back a gasp. Mason filled the front doorway with his broad shoulders and chiseled chest, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. He’d slicked his hair back, but not in an overstyled, greasy way.

  Coop stuck his nose in, licking her fingertips.

  “Wow. You look fantastic,” Mason said. His gaze lowered before he raised his eyes slowly, obviously eyeing her outfit.

  Or maybe her body.

  Whatever his stare took in, it sent a warm shiver over her skin. It was a pleasant, yet unwelcoming sensation.

  “You look pretty dapper yourself.” Dapper? Where the hell did she pick up that word? Small-town talk was already rubbing off on her. She had to admit that she enjoyed small-town life more than she thought she would. The relaxed atmosphere certainly reduced her blood pressure; however, she’d never be able to stay, and her exit plan was being handled as she stood there gawking at the sexy cop.

  “The dog dresses me up nice.”

  “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

  “I think we need to talk first.”

  She opened her mouth, but he shushed her with his finger. “You can trust me.”

  “I know I can,” she said as her mouth went dry.

  He shook his head. “If you knew that, you would have told me who your ex was when I asked if anyone would want revenge against you.”

  “But he doesn’t want revenge,” she managed to croak out.

  Mason had a powerful presence, in and out of uniform. He commanded her attention, and she’d be damned if she didn’t give it to him.

  “Perhaps not, but he’s not a Boy Scout, and while it appears his path hasn’t crossed Trip’s, it doesn’t mean it won’t or that he’s not involved with Trip’s boss.” Mason held out his phone. “Have you ever seen this man?”

  She took the cell, gripping tightly to keep her hand from shaking. She stared into a set of piercing blue eyes. Normally, she found the color sexy, but on this man, they gave her the chills. He had a receding hairline. What little hair he did have had turned a distinguished white colo
r. He had deep-set lines around his eyes and mouth. His skin was so dark it was obvious he spent a lot of time outside.

  She read the caption under his name.

  George Charleston.

  Her father’s name had been George Storm. She rolled the last name Charleston around in her mind. Something about him tickled a memory, but she couldn’t place it and figured it was just the first name that bothered her. “I don’t know him.”

  “Are you sure? Because you have a puzzled look about you.”

  She handed the phone back. She couldn’t tell him what her real father’s name had been and that anyone with the name George struck her the wrong way. “Something about him looks familiar, but I can’t place it. That’s why I spent so much time studying the picture.”

  “If you remember something, you’ll tell me?” he asked with an arched brow.

  “You still think I’m lying, don’t you?” She let out a long breath. She was lying, sort of.

  “I believe you. I just want to make sure I have all the information so I can keep you safe. I’ve gotten a little attached to having you around.”

  Time to nip this in the bud. “We should go. I just need to get the goodie bags. Poor parents are going to hate me with all the sugar I’m going to load their kids up on.” She turned to head back to the kitchen.

  Mason’s fingers curled seductively around her biceps. “Do I get a goody bag?” he asked, smacking his lips. “I like sweet things, like you,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing his lips to her cheek. His hot breath made her toes curl.

  “I’m more sour than sweet and not the girl for you.” She thought that might send the right message for a change, but he looped his arm over her shoulders, his thumb gliding over her bare skin.

  “Sweet and sour. That’s a savory combination.”

  “Great comeback,” she said with a nervous laugh.

  “Does that mean I get to taste this sweet and sour flavor?” He cupped her chin, staring into her eyes.

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away, and she tried. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Doing what?” He flicked her bottom lip with his finger.

  “You know what I mean.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not interested in you.”

  “Really?” He pressed his hand on her chest. “Because your pounding heart says something completely different, and we have a good hour before we really need to get you to Blaine’s house.”

  “Not the point.”

  “What is the point because we both want each other. We’ve been dancing around it since the day we met. Why should we continue to torture ourselves?” He held tight, rocking back and forth as if they were dancing to a romantic slow song.

  She opened her mouth three times, snapping it shut each time.

  “Tell me you don’t want this.” He sucked her tongue right into his mouth, swirling his around hers. A rumble from his throat slipped through his mouth to hers. She shuddered.

  Prying her lips from his, she took a step back. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “And I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t promise you anything, and I don’t know if I can do forever with anyone, but I can do right now.”

  He certainly knew how to make it impossible for her to resist him.

  “So, this could be a one-time thing?”

  “I have a feeling we’ll both want more, but we won’t know unless we go there,” he whispered. “Go lay down, Coop.”

  The dog made a funny gurgle, then jumped up on her sofa. She was about to tell him to get down, but Mason’s moist, hot lips collided with hers in a tangled web of passion. His kiss made her knees go weak. She gripped his shoulders for support. Her skin burned with the kind of fire that could ignite a blaze deep in her core. One that she might never be able to put out.

  She fisted her hand in his shirt, but instead of pushing him away, she pulled him closer. Her tongue coiled around his, matching his desire, and upping the stakes.

  Sex.

  It would be sex. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  She’d have to make that clear just as soon as this kiss was over.

  His hands stopped roaming her backside, heaving up her skirt, inch by inch.

  He dug his fingers into the back of her thighs as he effortlessly lifted her off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  For half a second, she thought about protesting, but then his foot hit the hallway leading to her bedroom.

  “Before this goes any further, I think we need to talk,” she said.

  “Your timing really sucks.”

  She laughed. “You’re hot.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a big smile. “Can I take this to the bedroom now?”

  “I want this, but I don’t want strings. I can’t have strings. I never want to get married or have kids or—”

  He shoved his tongue inside her mouth and gave a harsh swirl. “This is going to sound like a contradiction, but I don’t jump into relationships that quickly.”

  “No. You just jump into the bed.”

  “Generally speaking, no. But you’ve been driving me stark raving mad since the second I laid eyes on you that first day, so I’m making an exception to that rule.”

  “So, we’re just going to have great sex and then go back to being just friends.” She needed him to say he agreed because in a couple of days, there was a good chance she’d be learning a new backstory and career.

  “I’m good with that, but if you keep talking, I’m going to drop you right here.”

  “I guess we better move this to the bedroom. I can’t be late to the party,” she murmured, nuzzling her lips against his neck.

  “I won’t say I’m going to hurry.”

  “Good to know,” she said before flicking her tongue over his earlobe.

  He groaned, kicking open the door. Lowering her on the bed, he quickly pulled his shirt over his head, showing off a smooth, bare chest.

  His tanned skin looked so soft and silky, she had to touch it. She traced a path from his neck, down the center of his chest, raising up and pressing soft kisses as she made her way down to his naval.

  It had been closer to a year since she’d been with a man, and that obviously was too long to go without sexual gratification.

  Gently, she lowered his zipper, releasing him from the confines of his jeans. His skin glistened in the sun’s rays reaching through the window like long fingers.

  She ran her hands up and down, the desire building in her stomach, making her desperate.

  He eased out of his jeans, standing at the foot of the bed, gloriously naked.

  God, what a sight. His thick muscles flexed as he lowered himself to the bed. “I take it you like what you see.”

  “You’re a Greek God.”

  He burst out laughing. “I can honestly say no one has ever said that to me before.”

  She shrugged, shamelessly staring.

  “Take off that dress,” he said in a dark, husky tone that rolled over her body like melting ice cream dripping down the side of a cone.

  Reaching behind her, she unzipped the back of her dress, letting her breasts fall out as she rolled it down to her hips. “Bring on the compliments.”

  He cleared his throat. “You have the breasts of a Greek Goddess.”

  She tried not to laugh, but it was impossible. “Are you always this fun in bed?”

  “I don’t know,” he said with a scowl. “Can’t say that the few women I’ve been with were all that talkative.” He reached out, cupping her with both hands, his thumbs rolling over her tight nipples. “Nor did we ever discuss my potential performance beforehand.”

  His honesty and vulnerability made it even harder not to adore him. “Well, we’ll discuss what we need to along the way.”

  “That’s hot,” he mused. His warm mouth sucked and nibbled while his hands removed her dress, leaving her with only the tiniest of thongs.

  Black lace. At least they were sexy.

  He toyed wit
h the elastic. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

  Tossing her head back, she enjoyed the way he touched her body. It was light. Tender. But also had a sense of urgency to it. “You’re just saying that because I’m naked.”

  “Not nearly naked enough.” He yanked her panties to her ankles.

  No one could ever call her shy, not even in bed. She felt comfortable in her own skin. Even though she had no reservations about letting him soak in all of her body, a pinch of insecurity tickled her brain. It was almost as if this were her first time having sex, ever. She wasn’t sure of what to do, or how to do it. And that was just stupid. She’d been having sex since her late teens, and it had always come naturally. She knew what she liked and seemed to know instinctively what a man enjoyed.

  It wasn’t rocket science.

  “Oh, God,” she said with a moan as he glided two fingers inside. He stroked her like a master guitar player, plucking away at the strings. Making her hum like a fine-tuned machine.

  He smiled like he’d found a hidden treasure. He moved his hand slowly, teasing the walls of her insides with a feather-light touch. Yet at the same time, he scraped against her with the force of hurricane winds.

  She clenched herself around his fingers as tightly as she could. She wanted to feel every single inch of his fingers stroking her insides, bringing her close to the ultimate release.

  He teased her, bringing her close to climax, only to stop and rock back on his heels, smiling, before starting again.

  Two could play at that game.

  She pushed him to his back and gripped him between her fingers, gliding up and down relentlessly.

  “Holy fuck,” he groaned.

  “You like that?” She brought her mouth closer to his tip, breathing her hot breath on him, letting her tongue barely graze his skin.

  “I think you better keep going for a few minutes just to make sure,” he said with labored breathing.

  “You’re a naughty man,” she whispered, grating her teeth over the length of him. She kept her gaze locked with his while his hands kneaded through her hair. Her mouth hot on him, gliding up and down. She always felt a sense of empowerment when giving a blowjob, but with Mason, it was so much more. The way he looked down at her with admiration was more than sexual satisfaction. It was if they connected on a different level.