Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)(79)

The spectators were out for his blood. He could hear the word “cop” being spat like an epithet behind him. Didn’t they know he was one of them now?

Henrik estimated he had another minute until the bell rang and he could release the aggression pounding inside his temples. He actually felt bad for the other guy and the way he’d feel tomorrow. If anyone deserved a good beating, it was Henrik. After all, his aggression was directed squarely at himself. No one else.

He’d compromised himself for the girl.

And then he’d lost her.

Her location was pinned to his refrigerator at home, courtesy of Austin’s late-night delivery, during which the cocky Brit hadn’t said a single word. If Henrik were capable of feeling pity for anyone else, he might have felt it for Austin as he stood outside Henrik’s door, pale and agitated, muttering words beneath his breath. Or a name, rather. Polly.

Yeah. Pity wasn’t exactly in Henrik’s arsenal at the moment. He needed to distract himself from the insane compulsion to drive to Ailish’s location. To make sure she wasn’t in danger. Or being held against her will. God help everyone within swinging distance if she was hurt or scared.

This girl with whom he’d exchanged one sentence.

The bell rang and Henrik punched himself in the head with his right fist. Then his left. As he closed in on his opponent, his agonized growl rent the air.

…

Austin shut off the shower spray and flattened his palms on the slick tile wall. Frigid water ran down his face and chest, making his skin feel tight. The cold shower hadn’t helped his aroused state—not in the least bit. Between his legs, his flesh hung heavy, ready. In the five months since he’d moved into Polly’s apartment, now their apartment, his existence seemed to ebb and flow in varying states of need. Upon waking most mornings, he didn’t hesitate to tuck Polly’s ass against his lap and f*ck her into a heightened state of wakefulness. It served her right for giving him no respite from the wanting of her, even in sleep.

But they had been up all last night working on a project. A project that would bring him slightly closer to atoning for his past. Polly and her dexterous fingers needed their rest. So he was being a conscientious boyfriend and letting her sleep. The situation—meaning his rigid cock—was not helped by the fact that no matter where he paced in the apartment, her naked, slumbering form seemed to be visible.

Austin flipped the cold water back on, wincing at the icy blast. His state could be remedied if he focused on a vision of his Polly and stroked himself off…if he didn’t consider it sacrilegious to expend pleasure anywhere but inside her lithe, beloved body. She hadn’t requested he keep himself only for her; it was merely a personal rule. And while he’d stopped forbidding her to touch herself, he knew she followed the same personal dictate. One he frequently rewarded her for, some days on an hourly basis.

He stuck his head directly beneath the shower spray and attempted to focus on something else. Anything to distract him from the knowledge that Polly’s delectable backside was peeking out among their bedsheets like a tight little trophy, begging for him to come win it. Remind her whose name was engraved permanently on those smooth cheeks. Fuck. Austin’s hand curled into a fist on the shower wall. By sheer force of will, he prevented himself from giving in and jerking the flesh dying for attention.

Something else. Think of something else.

In addition to Polly’s nude body, his need this morning sprang from the ever-present desire to reassure her just how thoroughly she owned him. They’d spent the night tracking down one of his past marks, now living in Denver, and arranged for a transfer of funds. The woman was only the third on a long list that required repayment. Each time he and Polly fulfilled another debt, his shoulders felt lighter.

He and Polly had waited until after Reitman was formally charged with several felonies, including illegal gambling and extortion, before going to Derek and explaining their mission. In addition to their work on the undercover squad, they were now assisting state witnesses in maintaining their low profile while awaiting trial. Much like she had done for Bowen and Sera, Polly not only consulted with Chicago PD about how best to protect witnesses, she actively kept them invisible on the web and necessary financial databases.

They were paid for their side work. And the proceeds went to filling the potholes in Austin’s past. Not a second passed during the day when Austin wasn’t in awe of Polly. The selflessness she continued to display. That she was fulfilled by making a difference in the people’s lives that had been wronged.

She saved him a little more each day.

Austin’s role in their side business had been vague in the beginning. It had taken quite some time to gain the same trust Polly had received from the officers Derek arranged for them to work with. His unique expertise had finally been put to use creating new identities for witnesses who were required to leave Chicago for good after testifying. After spending years transforming himself into different people, Austin had proven himself invaluable to those witnesses. And it felt damn good to be doing something positive. To be anything other than the villain of someone’s story.

Polly’s father hadn’t kept the money Austin returned. He’d donated it to the adoption agency that had brought him Polly. And maybe Austin still had a bit of villain left inside him after all, because he would steal the money all over again just to see the look on his girlfriend’s face when she learned of her father’s actions.