Page 67 of Pulse

She shoved him away so hard he stumbled back.

“Oh, shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to push you so hard. Don’t laugh. Your dick is out, so why are you laughing?” She fumbled with the door and then hurled herself into the car just as headlights turned into the parking lot.

It didn’t take more than a glance to see it wasn’t a cop, which was good because he couldn’t stop laughing.

“Pulse! What are you doing? Get in here. You cannot be arrested again.”

He snorted. “It’s not a cop. Probably some teenagers here to have sex.”

“Oh my God, who does that?” she asked, then groaned and slapped a palm to her head. “Don’t answer that.”

He was still chuckling as he hauled his pants up and zipped. Then, casual as could be, he strode around to the driver’s side. The car was parked in the center of the lot, far enough away that he couldn’t make out the driver. As he’d told Talia, it was probably a group of teens looking to escape their parents and have a little privacy, but he wasn’t going to stick around and find out if the cartel or DEA had caught up to him.

He pulled the driver’s door open to find Talia slouched and struggling to wiggle into her shorts. Once again, he burst out laughing, which only earned him a glare he bet made people shit themselves on the witness stand.

It made his depleted cock twitch in an attempt to rally.

“Seriously, if you ever want what just happened to happen again, you will get your ass in the car and stop laughing at me.” She tried to scowl, but her lips quirked.

Pulse slid into the car. “Please,” he said as he buckled up. “Don’t even pretend to threaten me, baby. You know you’re gonna be begging for a repeat the second we get inside my apartment.”

She opened her mouth, probably to blast him with that caustic tongue, but then she sighed. “Dammit, you’re probably right.”

Their gazes met, and they both burst into laughter.

He couldn’t remember when he’d run through such a drastic range of emotions in one night. Fury, fear, hatred, lust, hilarity, and now, the night was ending with straight-up happiness.

Talia had done that. She’d taken his shitty night and turned it around.

He planned to hold onto whatever was happening between them, no matter how foolish or doomed, for as long as possible.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MERE INCHES SEPARATED them in Pulse’s bed. Talia couldn’t stop staring at his relaxed face as he slept. He could make millions as a model for men’s cologne or underwear. Her lips quirked as she imagined his annoyance at a photographer trying to position him and snap hundreds of shots. He’d hate it. Pulse was born for a high-energy, high-stakes job. His ability to remain cool under pressure and not let his emotional side take over made him perfect for trauma nursing.

His hand rested on her bare hip, nearly cupping her ass as he slept. The small smattering of dark hair sprinkled on his chest tickled her as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other. Her fingers itched with the desire to stroke through it and trace his tattoos, but she wouldn’t risk waking him. He’d worked a twelve-hour shift and then had a distressing night. The man deserved as uninterrupted sleep as he could manage.

How long had it been since she’d slept the whole night with a man? Years, close to a decade. Early in college, she’d had a longish-term boyfriend who’d cheated with a close friend of hers. It had taken until law school for that wound to heal. Not because she’d loved the man or even missed him much, but because the betrayal made her mountain of trust issues grow taller.

After months of pressure from her friends during law school, she’d accepted a date from a nice guy who worked at a lounge they frequented. Their date went well, really well, so she wentout with him a second time. Then a third and fourth, and so on, until he asked her to be exclusive after two months.

She’d wanted to say yes. At that time, it felt like the man had singlehandedly healed her wounded heart, given her hope, and swept her off her feet. But growing up with a prominent criminal attorney as a father taught her more than how corrupt the legal system could be. It taught her never to take anyone at face value. It taught her wolves often hid in the softest, fluffiest sheep’s clothing.

So she’d run a background check on the man she’d fallen hard and fast for. Not only was he married, but he sent his wife to the hospital on more than one occasion. He never found out she was the one to tell the cops where he’d be one night so they could serve his arrest warrant. That man was now serving time for aggravated domestic assault.

After that, she’d given up on anything more than the rare hookup and definitely no sleepovers.

Until tonight.

They’d gone straight to his bed when they got to his apartment. Pulse had stripped her down, kissing and touching everywhere before giving her another spectacular orgasm with his fingers this time. Then, he’d wrapped her in his arms, and they passed out, practically glued together. Unfortunately for her, sleep only lasted an hour or so, and now she was wide awake in the pre-dawn hours, watching a man sleep.

What was it about him that made her break all her rules for self-preservation?

Pulse’s eyelids fluttered, then opened, and she stared into the sleepy gaze of the man who twisted her up inside. He smiled, and foolish butterflies danced through her stomach. Didn’t they know it never ended well?

And yet she couldn’t help how her heart sped and hope flared to life.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she finally let her fingers reach for the warm chest they wanted to touch. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

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