Hope's Redemption (Redemption Road Book 2), page 11
“Mmm,” I growled against her, sucking her clit gently as her whole body shook.
I used no fingers. I wanted to wake her with something more than just sex. Something deeper. Intimate. It didn’t take long. Three long sucks on her clit with a flick of my tongue over the tip, and her knees drew up as her short nails clawed at my shoulders and she came, long and hard.
I lavished her pussy until she slowed her rocking, then without missing a beat, I moved up her body and slid home.
Sleepy, sated eyes met mine with a smile as she linked our hands and began to move with me. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Counselor.” I hiked one of her thighs up and began to fuck her with long, deep strokes.
She groaned, then leaned up to kiss me, her tongue wrapping around mine, tasting herself.
I pumped harder and deeper, my body fighting to own hers.
She moaned louder, her hips urging mine on as she sought her second orgasm.
I released her hands so I could grab under her ass, hiking her up higher, closer to me, pumping in a frenzy.
Her nails raked my back hard.
Our eyes clashed.
I’d swear I saw something familiar in those dark depths as she looked at me. Something amazing and terrifying at the same time. Just like it was all those years ago, the night she first told me she loved me.
It couldn’t be. We were in different places now, but fuck if it wasn’t choking me not to say it.
I’d nearly blown it last night, words and emotions falling out of me as I took her for the first time in so damn long. She had no idea, and she never would, how much I still wanted and needed her. I’d take that secret to the grave.
That’s ancient history, dead and gone. We both know it.
“I’m gonna . . .” Her eyes fluttered closed, bringing me back to focus as her second orgasm came over her violently and triggered mine.
My body took over from my heart and I pumped into her hard once, twice, then came with a growl.
I collapsed beside her, panting, then glanced over when she huffed out a laugh.
“That’s one hell of a way to wake up.”
“Glad to be of service.”
She hummed her agreement as she toyed with my chest hair, her fingers tracing my phoenix tattoo.
“CJ did it.”
She nodded silently, continuing her path, her fingertips caressing the vibrant red feathers, and I wondered what she was thinking.
“I’d been teaching him a new technique. We were bored one night, so I let him try it on me. We created the design together, but I never told him my reason for a phoenix.”
Loud banging on the door made us both jump. Hope’s eyes flew to mine, and I sprang into action, jumping out of bed and reaching for my jeans, automatically feeling protective.
More banging, then, “Hope! Can we talk? I brought breakfast!”
This time our eyes met for a whole other reason.
Faith.
“Fuck,” Hope groaned. “Seriously?” She yanked on her robe and shot me a look. “Could her timing be any worse? She’s going to make way too big a deal of this.”
“This?”
“You. Me.” She indicated the bed between us. “This.”
I ignored the bite of hurt as I grabbed my t-shirt and pulled it on. “We could just ignore her. Maybe she’ll go away.”
“Right. Good—”
“Hope?” More knocking. “Is that Tobias’ Bel Air parked out here? Should I worry? Did he get arrested again?”
Hope rolled her eyes and raced to the front door, throwing it open. “Jesus, Faith. Announce it to the whole bayou, would ya?”
“Took you long enough to answer.” Faith did not sound the least bit repentant. “Is everything okay?”
The door closed as their voices filtered inside. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Silence.
I chuckled as I imagined the two sisters eyeballing each other, doing some kind of sisterly nonverbal communication thing.
Then, “Tobias?” Faith called.
I padded barefoot to the bedroom door and leaned against the frame with a small smile. “Mornin’, Faith.”
Her gaze slowly traveled from the top of my messy hair, over my unshaven cheeks, down to my bare feet, before roving over to her sister in her robe and equally tousled hair.
“Hope Hannah McMasters.”
“What?” Hope said a bit defensively.
With a squeal, Faith launched herself into her arms. “I knew it! I’m so happy for you! I was hoping you two would get back together.”
Hope’s eyes went wide. “Oh—no—it’s not like that—”
And there it was.
But Hope was laughing as her sister hugged her, and her eyes met mine like she needed a lifeline.
“Bullshit,” Faith said, pulling back. “I know what I know.”
“It’s a little early for all that,” I said, helping Hope out. “We’re just getting to know each other again.”
She looked unconvinced. “Yeah, well, I have faith in the two of you—no pun intended.” She shot me a smirk. “And I am super happy to know that Cady is a lying bitch.”
I frowned. “Cady?” Something thudded in my gut as I recalled our last conversation. I’d been brutally honest with her, and to say she hadn’t taken it well would be an understatement.
“Yes.” She opened up the container of kolaches and offered me one, which I shook off. “She’s telling anyone who’ll listen how you and she talked yesterday, and that you’re working things out, and you’re gonna be getting back together.”
“What the fuck?” I said. “That’s not how it went down.”
Faith rolled her eyes as she took a bite of kolache. “Anyone with eyes can see she’s desperate.”
Though Hope had her back to us while she got coffee going, I saw her shoulders tighten when Faith said Cady and I spoke yesterday. I hadn’t told her the details, but surely, she knew this was bullshit. But according to her it’s not like that comment, would she care?
Faith rattled on a bit longer, obviously a little too happy to have found us together, before she grabbed one more kolache and made her getaway. She planted a kiss on my cheek. “Bye.” She drew back and whispered, “This makes me happy.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded and stepped back while she said goodbye to Hope.
Once we were alone, we sat, and I tried to gauge Hope’s mood as she sipped her coffee. “Well, that was awkward.”
She glanced up. “Yeah.”
“We good?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I’m not sure.” I watched her pick at her uneaten kolache. “That stuff about Cady—”
“It’s really none of my business, Tobias,” she cut me off. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
I stared at her for a long moment, dumbfounded. “None of your . . .?” I sat back and crossed my arms. “Is that so?”
She stood and tossed her trash. “Yes. Why?”
I said nothing until she faced me, ice princess mask back in place.
“So, let me get this straight . . . A woman I was engaged to is parading around town saying that we’re getting back together, on the same day that you and I end up in bed? And that doesn’t bother you?”
She crossed her arms to mirror mine. “Sounds like I got the better end of the deal. Why should I be bothered?”
I dropped my head back to stare at the ceiling as a thousand emotions churned through my chest. God, I was an idiot.
“Why should I be bothered, Tobias?” she demanded again, with more force.
I snapped my head down to face her again and smacked my palm on the table. “My bad. I was mistaken.” I shoved to my feet and spun to go find my shoes so I could get the hell out of there.
“It’s just sex, T,” she said to my back. “I don’t own you.”
T. She used it again, and I didn’t know which part of that sentence hurt more, even though I heard the falter in her tone, giving her lie away.
We both did.
There was no way I’d ever believe that last night or this morning was just sex. No fucking way. Not us.
And of course she owned me, but I’d never tell her that. I barely had the power to acknowledge it to myself.
I blinked hard and stormed into the bedroom to grab my wallet and sat to yank on my shoes, but she was on my heels.
“Tobias.”
Her tone was clipped, but uncertain.
I rose and met her gaze, but she blocked the doorway. “Move.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin in defiance. “Tell me I’m right, T,” she said, shooting that arrow again. “Or tell me I’m wrong.” She closed her eyes on the last whispered words, and the tremble to her lips gave her away.
I cupped her jaw, forcing her to look in my eyes. “You can say what you want about me, Hope. I don’t care. But don’t fucking cheapen this by saying it’s just sex between us. It never was; it never will be.”
Her gaze dropped to my throat as she showed another chink in her armor and her hand came up to wrap around my wrist. “I’m not a needy girl, Tobias. I—I don’t know how to do this.”
“I know that.” I dropped my forehead to hers, my heart hammering in my chest. “God. Don’t you think I know that?” I breathed with her for a long moment. “But all I’ve ever wanted was for you to need me like I need you, and it kills me that you’ll always choose to be alone when you don’t have to be.”
With a soft, pained cry, she melted into my arms and let me hold her.
I kissed the top of her head, wondering if we’d ever get past our baggage. We weren’t kids anymore and life had a way of screwing with all of your best-laid plans.
She drew back after a minute and gazed up at me. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “And just so you know, Cady is full of shit.”
“I didn’t—”
“I know you didn’t ask. I’m telling you. Because it does matter.” I took the giant leap and spoke the truth. At least part of it. “You matter to me, Hope. You always have. I told her so, and it pissed her off. I think that’s what this is all about.”
She frowned. “Really?”
“Which part?”
She smacked my chest. “You hurt her feelings.”
“You’re worried about Cady’s feelings?” I laughed. “She’s probably out there buying a voodoo doll and hex bags as we speak.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Sadly, I’m not.”
She studied my face. “She loves you.”
I shook my head and said nothing. Because, really, what was there to say? I didn’t want to hurt Cady, but I didn’t want her love either. I’d never burned with passion for her the way I did for Hope.
The only woman I wanted to love me was standing here with me now. In my arms. Close as I could possibly be, yet she felt so very far away.
And the scariest part?
My stupid, stupid heart was ready to jump right back into the inferno for her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hope
It’s not just sex . . . you matter to me . . .
Tobias’ words reverberated through my brain while I dressed for the day. He was long gone, off to open the shop for the day, but the taste of him still lingered on my lips and the scent of sex still hung in the air.
I ignored that as I slid back into my toughest lawyer clothes and brushed my hair. I had work to do too, and I wouldn’t be able to do it soaking in pheromones and lust.
You matter to me, Hope . . .
Nope. Wasn’t going there either.
I spun from the mirror and strode to the kitchen for my caffeine fix.
I froze at the threshold, my hand to my heart. “Damn it, Tobias.” He’d gone out into Nanny Rae’s garden, picked a few flowers, and left them in a glass next to the coffeemaker. No note. Nothing extravagant. All him. And I wasn’t sure what to do with it.
I averted my eyes as I made my coffee and slid some bread into the toaster. Didn’t glance over while I poured and doctored my coffee, then buttered my toast. Did not give them the time of day while I sipped and ate half a piece, leaning right there against the counter.
Then the pull was too much to resist.
I turned my head and studied the simple wildflowers that held the few good memories of my childhood and being here with my grandmother. He would know that. He knew everything about me, and he still cared. Every kiss, every caress, even the way he could barely restrain himself when he took me against the wall communicated how much he still cared about me.
And the scariest part? Knowing full well that our “ancient history” was about as buried as I was.
My phone pinged with a text just as I was parking in front of the police station.
Tobias: Truth or dare?
I bit back a smile, trying to stay serious.
Me: I’m working, Tobias.
Tobias: Then hurry up and answer the question, Counselor.
I studied the screen for a while before relenting. This was dangerous ground we were treading, but damn it, I couldn’t help myself.
Me: Dare . . .
Tobias: Too chicken to tell me any more truths?
Me: No. Just feeling daring.
Tobias: Alright then. My place. Tonight. 7 p.m.
Tobias: No panties.
Me: That’s it?
Tobias: I’ll introduce you to Henry.
Me: Henry? Who’s Henry?
When he didn’t answer, I frowned down at the screen for a long minute, my heart pounding uncomfortably.
Me: Who the hell is Henry?
Me: I don’t do threesomes!
Me: I’m serious!!!
Still no answer, which somehow simultaneously pissed me off and turned me on. Such a Tobias move.
With a frustrated sigh, I got out of the car, yanked up my bag, and strode into the police station. I’d worry about Henry and my panties later.
I was shown the way to Mateo’s office and used the time I waited outside his closed door to get myself together, waving off his secretary’s offer of coffee or water.
A few minutes later, his door opened, and a few officers piled out.
His eyes landed on me, and I took in my brother-in-law in his uniform. Though we were on opposing sides on this particular matter, I guessed I could see the appeal—if my sister was into straitlaced men in uniform types.
“Hope,” he said, indicating for me to come in. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
He circled back behind his desk and we both took a seat. I casually took in his office, noting the framed photo of him and Grace on their wedding day next to his computer and the child’s drawing hanging on the wall behind him. My gaze slid down to his wedding band, then quickly back up to his face.
“Brandon Erickson,” I started.
He lifted a brow. “Yes?”
“The basis for the warrant you served on my client revolved around Mr. Erickson’s overdose, correct?”
He studied me carefully, giving nothing away. “Partly.”
“And is your department aware of the severity of Mr. Erickson’s drug history?”
He drew over a folder from an impressive pile and flopped it open, his eyes scanning. “I’m not sure . . .”
I frowned, not sure why the police wouldn’t have looked into this significant bit of information concerning an overdose death. “You can certainly verify anything I tell you today with his girlfriend and rehab documents.”
He glanced up at me. “And your client . . . Mr. Bishop . . . told you these things?”
“Of course. Who else?”
He picked up a pen and nodded, and I shared with him everything I remembered that Tobias had told me about Brandon and his troubles with drugs.
He dutifully jotted it all down, making hums of acknowledgment along the way.
“So, you can see why everything you found could easily have belonged to Brandon and not Tobias,” I said.
Mateo slowly lowered his pen and looked up at me. “Sure. . . except for our witness.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “Except for that. But who is your witness? Someone reliable, I hope?” I tilted my head. “Not someone with an axe to grind against my client or—”
My words fell away as his expression changed. Subtly, but I caught it. “What?”
“Joe Barnes.”
My brain clicked through everything I’d read, coming up empty. Redemption was a small town and I’d never heard of him or even his family name. But I had been gone a while. “I don’t recognize that name; who is he?”
“Do you know if Tobias knows him?” Mateo asked, diverting my question. “Or of him?”
“I’m not sure. I can ask.”
Mateo drew out another folder, his eyes looking far away like his mind was spinning. “The handwriting analysis.”
“Wait. What?”
He drew out a folded piece of paper from another folder and opened it. “The handwriting analysis from the deed for the meat packing plant.”
Now my mind was spinning. “I’m confused. Handwriting analysis?”
“Yes.” He shoved a paper across his desk toward me. “Tobias said he’d never signed the deed.” He punched a finger over Tobias’ signature. “I wasn’t sure if I could believe that or not, his story seemed so damn crazy, but . . .”
My eyes drifted across the handwriting. I knew Tobias’ penmanship. It certainly looked like his signature at a quick glance, but as I leaned closer there was something off in the tilt of capital b and curve of the s’s. I traced a finger over it without looking away. “. . . But your gut instinct told you to double-check,” I finished for him.
“Yeah,” he said. “So I had it analyzed.”
My gaze sliced up to his. “And?”
He indicated a second paper and slid it forward as well. “Most likely forged.”
“So . . .?”
“So, if he didn’t sign the deed, his uncle probably had it forged and most likely had dealings with everything we found at the plant.”
My mind clicked through the details rapid-fire. I may not have ever known about that stupid meat packing plant and everything that was found inside if my own father hadn’t crashed into it. But I did.
