His words and his actions don't match up. He's holding on so tight, but touching me so gently. He might be trained not to give a f.u.c.k, but I'm not the only one who needs this. A tear slides between my eyelids, burning my face, and I shake my head. No. I'm not going to be sad. I'm going to be s.e.xy and brave and selfish.

Because I want him, however I can get it. And maybe it's for the best if he slides out of my life once tonight is over.

I wrench myself out of his arms and twist around, my fingers feverishly working at the b.u.t.tons on my shirt. Undoing them, for him. For his hungry, dark gaze. For the way he stalks toward me, backing me into my bedroom.

He pulls a gun from a holster on the back of his dress pants and clunks it down on my bedside table. Then he strips off his own shirt, and I take in the sight of his big, broad chest. His rippling shoulder muscles, one covered in faded ink, the other decorated with more horrifying scar tissue. I gasp and fly to him, touching him there, and he mutters into my hair, something about s.h.i.t I don't need to worry about. G.o.d.

My breath is ragged and harsh as he kisses me, slowly stripping both of us of the rest of our clothes as we sink into a bittersweet exchange of unspoken wishes.

For everything to be different.

For this night to last forever.

For me to not be quite so painfully innocent, or Cole to be so brutally cold. Maybe we could meet in the middle if I wasn't such a Pollyanna, or if he didn't carry two-no, three guns. Jesus. I stare at the collection growing on my bedside table and wonder just what the h.e.l.l he was armed for when he went to my parents' estate.

With me.

He curves around my back, shoving my torso forward onto my bed.

"Such a princess, with a big tall bed like this," he mutters, his hands skimming down the line of my back to my a.s.s. "Just the right height for a bad man to bend you over and f.u.c.k you hard."

"Do it," I urge, pressing into his touch.

"Is that what you want, beautiful princess? For the bad man to just do what you say?" Cole trails his fingers lower as he taunts me, finding me wet and ready for him. "I don't think so. And frankly? I don't care."

"What are you going to do?" I ask this breathlessly, because I'm game for anything. Antic.i.p.ation skitters beneath my skin, heating me from the inside out. I arch my back, shamelessly presenting myself. "Are you gonna spank me, bad man?"

Cole groans and smooths a palm over my a.s.s while the other hand still strokes my p.u.s.s.y ever so gently. "That's a good idea."

My breath slows, or maybe I hold it, as he nudges my legs further apart. He rocks against me, his own inhales not as steady and calm as I'm sure he'd like them to be. I like that. I raise up on my tiptoes, giving him more of me. I'm slippery now, sloppy even, and his fingers feel so good. I could probably come just like this, just from rocking myself against- Nothing. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sound. That makes two of us, but my whimper turns to a strangled gasp as his fingers return in a whip-fast spank.

Against my f.u.c.king p.u.s.s.y.

"Ow!" I'm panting now, trying to catch my breath, but I can't figure out why. It's not like that hurt. It just...I grind back at him, and he does it again, making me groan and press my face into the bedspread. Jesus. I'm so close to coming, hard, and all he has to do is tap me once more...

So of course he doesn't. b.a.s.t.a.r.d. He flips me over like I'm a f.u.c.king waif, and climbs on top of me. "Is this what you want, Hailey? You want some dirty s.e.x with someone you don't have to look at ever again?"

"I'm pretty sure the f.u.c.ked up track record of my family guarantees I'm going to have to see you again."

He braces his arms on either side of my head and brushes some hair off my cheek. His eyes are dark, almost black in the dim light of my room, and a nerve is twitching in his cheek. Between us, his c.o.c.k rests heavy on the soft of my belly. His thighs press my own open, and it wouldn't take much to bring us together.

I stare up at him, my breath slowing. I want it, in a deep, aching kind of way. But now I'm scared again, because this is too much. Too intimate. I'll want this over and over again, for the rest of my life. Cole, hard and big and on top of me.

Safe and s.e.xy and real.

No. This can't happen. I want this too much. Something else needs to happen instead. I lick my lips, what's become our shorthand for a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b and wiggle beneath him. "I thought you wanted me on my knees?"

"I think I want you just like this." Husky and rich, his voice undoes me. "Can you handle it?"

Not even a little bit.

"Please," I whisper. "Just a taste. Come on. Don't you want to f.u.c.k my mouth, bad man?"

"Stop," he grinds out, even as his c.o.c.k pulses against me. A dirty fight between good and evil was playing out inside him, and I can't handle Good Cole. I'd fall in love with Good Cole in a New York minute, so we need Bad Cole to come out and play.

"Hold my hair. Make me choke. Paint my face with your-"

He cuts me off with a hard, punishing kiss. So I bite him. It's become our way.

Or maybe just my way.

There's a definite possibility that I'm the f.u.c.ked up one here. Not a surprise. I'm a Reid. It was just a matter of time for my defects to show.

"Not on your knees." He rolls onto his back, pulling me with him for one more kiss before he wraps my hair around his fist and holds me in place as he props himself up against my pillows. I get my first look at his c.o.c.k as he shifts me between his legs. Thick, long, blunt, and covered in the softest looking skin, even as it's stretched tight. It lays to the left, against his hip, bobbing in the air a bit, giving me a clear look at his sac, too. I breathe in his scent, clean with a musky maleness that makes my mouth water.

He laughs, soft and slow, a quiet rumble. "What are you waiting for, an invitation?"

I giggle at the unexpected tease. This isn't going as I expected at all. Intense one minute, funny the next.

"Just taking my time," I breathe, turning my face toward his c.o.c.k, now pointing right at my mouth. Perfect. I stick my tongue out and swipe at the bead of pre-come waiting for me, enjoying the way that makes him hiss.

Enjoying the taste of him on my tongue.

I want more.

I lick around the thick crown, savouring the taste of his velvety skin, before sliding my whole mouth over the head and bringing him deep. Well, deep-ish. He's big and my mouth isn't.

"More," he growls, and then it turns out that there is in fact more, and I can in fact take it. He lifts his hips slowly, at the same time as he guides my head lower, his hand alternating between pressing at the back of my neck and stroking my hair.

It's the stroking that does it, that unbearable softness. I need him hard and rough, and he knows that's what I want. He knows I'm trying to fit him into a stereotype.

But this, the gentle touch and push and all of a sudden his c.o.c.k is buried in my throat, and I'm struggling to breathe through my nose...this is what I need.

Cole drifts his free hand-the one not fisted in my hair, guiding me as I suck him off-over my cheek and down my neck, finding my swinging b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He groans again as he cups one of my b.o.o.bs, and that simple touch topples the last of my defenses. I can try to orchestrate dirty s.e.x with him, or we could just have dirty s.e.x.

I pull back, pressing a sloppy wet kiss to the end of his c.o.c.k as I rock back on my heels. "Condoms are in the top drawer."

"Thank Christ," he mutters, yanking one out. I watch as he rolls on protection, then crawl on top of him. He palms my a.s.s as I reach between us and sink onto his length.

It takes three slow presses to take him fully, and by the time he's deep inside, I'm halfway gone again. I tip forward, resting my hands on his shoulders, and his solid arms wrap around me, holding me there. He's staring at my t.i.ts, which is good, because I don't know how much eye contact I can take while I deal with the fact that nothing in the entire world has ever felt as good as Cole Parker filling me up.

He says my name, so quietly I almost don't hear it. Almost. Not quite. And that's when I realize...it's too late. I'm not f.u.c.king Bad Cole. That a.s.shole took a walk when we got naked, and the man inside me thinks I'm beautiful and loves the look of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s floating in front of his face when I ride him. He might not be a good man all the time, but there's nothing but goodness here between us.

I coast on that realization for a minute, trying hard not to fight against it. Wanting to be okay with it. I say his name, and he grins up at me, but when I say it again, I think he gets that I'm on the edge of freaking out. He tightens his grip, as if to say I've got you, and despite all the mistrust outside of this s.p.a.ce, I know he does.

He sticks out his tongue, long and brazen, and pulls one nipple into his mouth. Like a lightning bolt to my c.l.i.t, the strong tug makes me grind against him and arch into his mouth.

"So pretty," he mutters, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he moves to the other one. "f.u.c.king tasty, and pretty, and I want you to come on me, Hailey. I want your little p.u.s.s.y to grab onto my c.o.c.k and f.u.c.king milk it, you hear?"

"Uh huh." It's all I can manage, because his words are like magic fingers, working with his pulsing c.o.c.k and his dangerous tongue to blow me apart.

"You need to come, beautiful. I'm going to start f.u.c.king you so hard. I'm going to bury myself deep, and blow my load inside you. But I can't do that until you've gone over. I can't do that until you're good."

"So close," I pant, rolling my hips as I sink onto his shaft again. "I'm good. I promise. Just...harder. Do it harder."

With a jerk, Cole tumbles us sideways, sliding our limbs together as he stretches out on top of me, pinning my hands over my head with one hand, pressing one of my knees up and away with the other, so he can do it harder.

He surges into me, stealing my breath. I roll my head back, overcome with sensation, and I barely notice him find my face with his until he's right there.

And his eyes.

Oh my G.o.d.

"Don't look at me like that," I whisper.

"Too late."

He slows his thrusts, dragging his thick c.o.c.k through my folds like he's dragging my heart through the jagged rocks that surround him. Falling for Cole Parker is the worst possible scenario. It can't happen.

But he's inside me. Deep.

And it already happened when I wasn't looking.

I cry out, and he covers my mouth with his, a furious kiss as we come together. I swear I black out for a second as every bit of me spasms around every bit of him, and he jerks hard above me, driving his hips into me and holding them there.

There's a moment, right after my vision returns, when Cole's forehead is pressed against mine and I can still taste the sweet maleness of his tongue...I arch my back, and my nipples rub against his chest, and I'm totally ready to go again. For that second, it feels perfect and easy and...f.u.c.ktastic.

And then reality crashes into me.

We didn't just f.u.c.k. That wasn't dirty-except it was. That was...more.

That was dangerous in a whole different way that I did not sign up for.

"Oh my G.o.d." I say it out loud this time, because it's all I'm capable of, and the silence is too much.

"Don't freak out," Cole mutters, his voice rough and dry. And laced with something suspiciously like humor.

"Are you laughing at me?" I cover my face, then realize that leaves my naked body sprawled across my bed. f.u.c.k it. It's my bed, and the light is pretty. I'm going to hide behind my hands and my hopefully golden skin-there's a lot of it, maybe he'll get distracted.

"This isn't a big deal. I'm still the bad guy you hate."

I sigh, and shift my hands enough to uncover my mouth. "I don't really hate you. Not in here. In here, you've got a nice c.o.c.k and a talented tongue."

"Okay." His voice has warmed up a bit, and the word rolls out easily.

I peek through my fingers as he shifts his weight, rolling off the bed to deal with the condom. I slam them shut again as he turns back, so I just feel him tuck back in next to me. "What does that mean, okay?"

"It means, go to sleep, beautiful. I'll be gone in the morning."

"Oh." I don't know if I like that.

"And maybe I'll use that key to let myself back in from time to time. Middle of the night, secret-like."

"Oh." I think about that for a minute, then smile. "Okay."

-eleven-.

Cole.

My phone rings at quarter to four. Jason's ring tune. For the first time in three years, I'm tempted not to answer.

Good news for Jason, my sense of duty overrides everything else. Motherf.u.c.ker.

"What?" I mutter quietly, rolling away from Hailey's sweet warmth.

"We've got a major situation, all hands on deck."

"If it's a Reid, I'm going to murder someone. If there's anyone left to murder."

He doesn't answer right away. s.h.i.t.

"No, it's not a Reid. But there's a situation. Can you meet me at the home of Representative Brian Fletcher?"

My phone vibrates with the address. "Sure. I'll be there in ten minutes."

I tug on my undershirt, boxer briefs and dress pants. I holster my weapons, the Browning last. I stand there for a second, holding the weight of it in my hand. f.u.c.k. So much for being a good guy in this room.

Reality has a way of settling in, and my reality is that rich people call when they've done bad things. And I'm extraordinarily good at getting them off the hook.

I pick up my dress shirt just as Hailey stirs. Her long brown hair glints with subtle gold highlights in the moonlight, and her soft, pale skin glows like an angel. I drop to my knees next to the bed.

"Go back to sleep. Work calls."

"No..."

I laugh softly and lean in. "Here, I'll take a picture of us, you can sleep with that."

"K. Good deal." She smiles sleepily for my phone and lets her eyes drift shut again as I text it to her. "You come back again sometime, ya hear?"

"I will. I'll wake you up with my tongue next time."

She makes a throaty sound that gets me half-hard and I press a quick kiss to her lips before I say anymore. I tuck my shirt into her arms and head for the living room. If Rep. Fletcher thinks I look more bada.s.s in a wifebeater and leather jacket, that's only to my advantage.

Any a.s.shole who wakes me up at four in the morning and drags me from the warmest, sweetest bed I've ever slept in had better have a good f.u.c.king reason, or there'll be h.e.l.l to pay.