Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(78)

Polly picked up a pint and saluted Derek. “To our fearless leader, who is turning out not to be an epic * like his brethren.”

“Give me time.” Derek leveled them all with a look. “And stay out of trouble.”

Erin reached for her beer. “What if it finds me first?”

Connor shook his head at the same time as Derek. “You’re my star pupil so far, O’Dea. Don’t screw it up.”

She turned her face into Connor’s shoulder but not before he saw her smile. The four of them sat quietly for a while, mostly speculating on what their next assignment would be and if Bowen would be twice as crazy now that Sera had seen some action. When Erin excused herself to go to the bathroom, she was forced to crawl over his lap to get out of the booth. His dick had already been hard from the way her hand rested on his thigh, but now it grew demanding behind his fly. Yeah, he wouldn’t last much longer in here. Time to let her know.

Erin glanced back in surprise when he rose from the table to follow her to the bathroom. “I don’t need a babysitter. Haven’t I proven myself to you yet?”

The way she glided away and let the question hang in the air told him she didn’t mind him following her one damn bit. Her hips snapped side to side with every step, those painted-on jeans wrapping up her tight body like a sexy birthday gift he didn’t deserve. They entered the dark hallway that led to the bathrooms and Connor wasted no time halting her in her tracks and wedging her up against the closest wall. When he nudged her belly with his erection, those blue eyes darkened and her mouth fell open on a gasp.

“Is this your way of telling me it’s time to go home?”

“Caught that, did you?”

He gritted his teeth when her smoky laugh vibrated her curves against him. “What’s wrong with right here?”

“This place isn’t good enough for you.” He gave a downward roll of his hips, satisfied when her head fell back and hit the wall. “I just wanted to pass on a warning.”

The inside of her thigh slid up the outside of his leg. “A warning about what, baby?”

Connor ran his tongue along her bottom lip, bit it gently. “I didn’t like hearing you flirt with Stark. Let him think he was going to get what only I take. My head knew you were doing it for a job, but the rest of me didn’t care.” He drew her leg up around his waist and ground his hips against her, drawing a whimper from her lips. “It’s going to be sweet reminding you all night that no one gets you but me. That includes Sera.” He petted her rounded ass with one hand, ending with a hard squeeze. “We’ll be dealing with that kiss later.”

After a long, deep delving of his tongue that left her clinging to his shoulders, he stepped back. Any more of her mouth and they would never make it home. Erin fell against the wall, breasts rising and falling. “Get the check.”

Connor knew he wore a self-satisfied grin as he turned to leave the hallway, but he didn’t give a shit. If you could make a woman like that moan, what the hell else did you need in life? Feeling the sudden urge to say something, he turned and found her staring after him. “Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so f*cking proud of you, I can barely stand it. You know that, right?”

Her laugh was pure joy. “Yeah.”

He stood there and watched her disappear into the bathroom, boots tinkling the whole way. Returning to the table with a smile on his face, he spotted his mother at the entrance, going up on her toes to scan the crowd. When she saw him, her face transformed with relief and she met him halfway across the bar.

“Son. This place could use a mop. You bring our girl here?”

“Hey, Mom.” He kissed her cheek, inordinately happy to hear his mother refer to Erin as theirs. “Late as usual, but you made it.”

“So.” She ignored his teasing and patted her neon-yellow head scarf. “Where’s the guest of honor?”

“In the bathroom. She’ll be right out.”



Erin stared at the wooden door of the bathroom stall, reading the various scrawlings that had been done with everything from Sharpies to knives. Megan loves Paul. Paul is a dick. Dick is a dick. She stood and used the toe of her boot to flush the toilet, felt the switchblade shift at her ankle. Experiencing the familiar urge to leave her mark, she embraced it, removing the blade and flipping it open. She thought for a moment, then carved the words, “Be the fire and you won’t get burned.”

The bathroom door opened and closed, bringing her back to the present. How long had it taken her to carve the words? Connor had probably sent Polly in to check on her. She shook her head even as it gave her a thrill of pleasure. Being cared for. Caring for someone else. She hoped she never took it for granted.

With one final glance at her handiwork, she shoved the blade back into her boot and pushed open the door. “Peeing is kind of a one-woman jo—”

Terror took root in her veins. Just inside the bathroom door stood her stepfather. He still had an abrasion on the side of his head where she’d clocked him with the skillet, but that wasn’t what chilled her most. It was the intention on his face. She was used to his disdain, but this was different. He was here to kill her.

She dropped into a crouch and snatched the blade from her boot just as he pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it at her, forcing her to freeze before she could even flip her weapon open. Anger rose in her so swift and furious, she choked on it. She’d only just figured out what it meant to be happy and this man, this nightmare, would not stop coming at her. Would not just leave her in peace.