Page 35 of Traitor

Mike’s smile faded. “Does that mean you don’t blame me anymore?”

My voice came out softer than I intended. “I know it wasn’t you, but it was never about that. I came to you for help and all of a sudden you were freaking Barney Fife.”

He leaned against the side of my car, with a resigned sigh. “So, what’s your plan?”

I hesitated.What was my plan?“What if I go in and ask that her case be reopened? I doubt it would get me very far, but it would get back to the biker gang that I’m not backing down. If I do that, you could track it, right?”

Mike slammed his fist down on top of my car and tersely replied, “Absofuckinglutely not, Red. I’m not putting your life in danger again to catch a cop!”

I moved until we were toe to toe. “You don’t get to make that call! I said I was helping you. End of story.”

One minute we were glaring at each other and the next, his hand was on my jaw, pulling me up against his chest. Even before our mouths collided, I was a raging inferno of desire.

Lady-bits, you disloyal bitch.

His mouth was unforgiving, as if he was unloading his anger onto me. Instead of pushing him away, I pulled him closer, melting into his touch. His beard tickled as his tongue slipped easily between my lips; feeling like home and reminding me that I would never feel with anyone else what I felt with him.

My hands frantically climbed his arms, stopping once I reached his muscular biceps. How many nights had I gripped him just like this as he moved in and out of me?

I moaned at the memories and his nostrils flared before his hands connected with my ass, lifting me easily up against the side of my car. I squeezed my thighs tightly around his waist, as if I was afraid he’d disappear at any second.

My mind was running rampant. I needed to pull away and remember why things hadn’t worked before. I needed to stay because his arms were the only place that felt safe anymore.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was an apology. An atonement. The heat from his mouth scorched away all of our sins against each other. He nipped at my lips while his hands worked to free my pony tail. He threaded his hands through my scalp and gently pulled each tendril down around my face. I tilted my head to the side, allowing him better access, while never once breaking contact with his mouth.

Little Ricky was too young.

Jimmy was too soft.

Mike was just right.

My life had become a damn nursery rhyme somewhere in the last two minutes. His lips reluctantly left my mouth and traveled down to my neck and all coherent thought stuttered to a stop as my body broke out in goosebumps. I wanted him inside of me, damn the consequences.

My hands clawed futilely at his shirt until he pulled himself away and set me back down on solid ground.

“Why’d you stop?” I whispered breathlessly.

Mike glanced around the near empty parking lot, refusing to make eye contact with me. “I’m not fucking you in a parking lot. We just got caught up in the moment. That’s it.”

His chest heaved with each breath and I knew he was full of shit. I stalked over to him and grabbed his shirt in my hand again. “Really? Just caught up in a moment? It’s that easy for you?”

He pulled my hand free from his shirt and gripped it tightly in his. “You think this is easy for me, Lauren? I want to hate fuck you until you feel me in your veins, then I want to slow it down and make love to you until you can’t find a reason for us not to be together. You, on the other hand, want to place yourself right in the path of a fucking oncoming train and force me to sit back and watch.”

I shook my head, trying to clear away images of him hate fucking me. It turned me on more than it should’ve—I was certain that my lady balls were turning blue. “Don’t be dramatic, Mike. I’m not trying to kill myself—I want to help. I could be your partner—”

He cut me off. “Partner? I wanted to make you my wife! My fucking heart was ripped out of my chest the night we fell apart!”

I stood there, dumbfounded. “Wife?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and roared, “Fuck!”

“Mike? Are you going to answer? You wanted to marry me?” My voice was unsteady, but it couldn’t be helped in light of his revelation.

He’d told me that he loved me after Elizabeth was rescued and I knew he was committed to us, but I never imagined that he was getting ready to ask me to marry him. It left me with mixed emotions—disappointment and bitterness ranking near the top.

If he hadn’t been a cop, would we have been planning our wedding right now? If he’d offered to help me that night with the same outcome, would I have made a different decision?

He got his breathing back under control before answering, “I—I don’t know, Lauren. Does it matter now?”

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