Dangerous Lies(20)

I drew circles on his chest while he talked. “What else?”

“Writing, but that’s obvious,” he chuckled against my temple.

“That used to make me happy,” I sighed. “If only I could find my groove again.”

“Stick with me and you will. Don’t think about your publisher, write for you, Cora.” His hand left my hair and traced the contours of my back. It was relaxing, and I found my eyes fluttering closed and my breath steadying.

“You know what really makes me happy?” He asked, his lips brushing against my skin with each delicate word.

I was fighting consciousness, drifting into slumber safely in his arms. “Hmm?”

Covering my hand that had stilled on his chest, he murmured, “When your name pops on my phone.”

Sighing, I snuggled into him, wrapping my arm tighter around him and hitching my leg with his. “You make me happy, too, Jake.”

I could feel his grin against my forehead, the warm, airy breeze of his exhale bringing comfort as it tickled my skin.





Chapter Fourteen





My arm was numb when I startled from my restless doze. The culprit was cuddled to my side, her bare chest gently rising and falling against my ribs. I’d dreamed of this day for years. I had always crushed on her. Any male would by her photos on social media. She was beautiful, and my simple crush magnified once we started talking on a regular basis. Our conversations were platonic, mainly about writing and marketing. We were colleagues, but the simple ad-ons and small talk about our lives outside of the writing world made me fall deeper. I loved to banter with her.

The fact that she was married helped curb my attraction and desire for her, but the more she talked about that prick, the more I wanted to rescue her. Now that I knew her divorce wasn’t just ignorance and lack of compatibility, I wanted to scoop her up and keep her from that asshat.

Teaching him a lesson would happen in the very near future. I had the resources and the capability. I was more than just a lone author living in New Zealand, and wasn’t a man to be messed with. My dark past was still very alive in my present day, I’d only learned to use it for good.

Cora stirred, rolling away from me, but still using my forearm as a pillow. I couldn’t help but turn with her, scooting on my side and molding my front with her back. My hand found her hip, half between the soft fabric of her shorts and the smoothness of her silky skin. I wanted to explore her body further, but she wasn’t in the right frame of mind. That fuckhead hurt her, and without her saying it, I knew physical contact with him hadn’t always been consensual.

The last scenario I wanted was my cock to be inside of her and cause for her to have a meltdown. I understood Post Traumatic Stress. It was a bitch, and would haunt a person for the rest of their lives. I had been living with my own nightmares buried deep in the trenches of my brain.

I ran my hand along her rib cage and to her shoulder, trailing down her bicep and back up, mapping out her Pakeha body while I could. Glancing at the alarm clock, it wasn’t even midnight.

I’d normally fall asleep around one or two, but I might not sleep at all tonight.

The text message from her douchebag of an ex-husband was a threat, an unlikely one, but I still needed to be on high alert. I knew all about him, where he worked and his past. Nothing shady was in his records, but that didn’t mean anything. The sound of Cora’s voice when she spoke of him told me enough, and when she had deflected discussing him, that raised more red flags.

He was successful and held power in the business world, but he wasn’t a match for my type. If he stepped foot on my turf, he’d be fucked, and I wouldn’t introduce him to Jake Cooper, the author, he’d meet the dark side reserved for bastards who deserved a beating.

I rested my head against the pillow, breathing in her scent. She smelled divine, the citrus scent of her shampoo captured my senses. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pulled her flush against me, the bare skin of her back hot against my chest. I circled her navel, flexing my hand along her stomach. She was in shape, more so than I expected. Her hourglass figure was to die for, and her arse pressed against my groin wasn’t helping to keep my naughty thoughts at bay. Keeping my hand on her waist and not traveling upward to her naked breasts was a true test of self-control.

Just as I was about to close my eyes, a creak of the floor stirred me from the quiet of the night. Normally I’d blame it on Shepley, but he was sprawled across the dresser and asleep.

I swiftly removed my arm from underneath Cora’s head, sneaking from the bed. She only fidgeted some, but went back into a peaceful slumber.

Inching to the closet, I felt for the hidden drawer on the top shelf. I kept a glock there, amongst other places throughout my house. Not taking my eyes from the door, I found the latch, snapping it open and retrieving the weapon.

I was on full alert, trained in combat and prepared to handle any intruder or situation. I’d taken down multiple men on my own without batting an eye. Now that I had precious cargo sleeping in my home, I was an even bigger force to be reckoned with.

I crept to the door, holding my glock in position to check the perimeter. The door was ajar, making inspecting the dark hallway easier. Once the hallway was clear, I gently closed the door, pacing toward my office and bathroom, keeping an ear out for more noises.

I relied on sound as much as my sight when it came to stalking a perpetrator. I’d served in the military as a First Lieutenant, leading troops to capture terrorists.