Blind Justice Read online

  “I can’t do that,” Olivia said. “Roy could have notified you at any time that he had Evan, but he didn’t. If you try to take your son and Roy puts up a fight, you endanger Evan’s life and risk traumatizing him even more. Wait until the police verify the paperwork you filed with the court and get a warrant.”

  Anger torched his blood. “What if Conklin’s a threat to him now? What if this guy killed Bridget? You’d have me leave Evan with him?”

  “Your son looks good, Jeff.” Her voice was pure patience. “Someone’s been taking care of him. One more night won’t change anything, but I have my guys watching the place, just in case. If they need to, they’ll move in.”

  “Fuck.” Jeff rubbed a hand over his head and closed his eyes.

  “If I tell you where he is and you get into an altercation, or Conklin runs, you could lose Evan again. It’s not worth the risk.”

  Jeff sighed. “Fine.” She was right, but he didn’t have to like it. He’d been waiting so long. Now that he knew Evan was okay, all his patience had evaporated.

  When he opened his eyes, Tara stood to his left. He glanced up as she squatted in front of him, her brow creased with concern. She placed a cool hand on his arm but didn’t speak.

  “Is there anything I can do?” he asked Olivia, feeling impotent.

  “Get some sleep. Tomorrow could start early. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  Sleep. Yeah, right. He ended the call and looked at Tara. Based on her expression, she was expecting bad news.

  He shook off his frustration for the moment and tried to focus on the positive. “Evan’s alive and okay.” A smile took over his face, so wide it almost hurt. Holy shit. Was this really, finally happening?

  She gasped and her face lit with relief that mirrored his own. “Jeff, that’s fantastic.” Shifting onto her knees, she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. “I’m so happy for you.”

  With a laugh he hugged her back, hard. “Thank you.” Being able to share the moment with Tara made it even better. More real. And the longer he held her, the more ideas he came up with for celebrating.

  “When can you see him?” she asked, pulling out of his embrace to sit next to him on the sand.

  His smile faltered a bit. “Not sure. Probably tomorrow. He lives close by with Bridget’s husband. Olivia notified the police, and has a team keeping an eye on the house.”

  Tara gripped his hand. “After all this time, it must feel a little unreal.”

  “It does.” He stared out at the restless waves. “This isn’t how I imagined things going down. I should be better at waiting by now.”

  “No way. That’s not how it works. Eager anticipation requires a different kind of patience.”

  Smart woman. “I’m glad you’re here.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but there was no point in denying the truth.

  She gave his hand a squeeze, her smile the embodiment of pure joy. “Me too. Thank you for sharing your happy news with me.”

  As if he wouldn’t? She was beautiful. And intelligent. And compassionate. And sitting in the sand with him, clearly not afraid to get dirty, just as she’d sat on the ground with Crystal a few hours ago.

  Jeff was high on good news, his emotions soaring, and all amped up with nowhere to go.

  “Do you want to keep walking?” she asked. “Or go get dinner?”

  “I’m not sure I can stand yet.”

  She laughed. “Sitting it is. We can watch the sunset. Or I can grab some food and we can eat on the beach.”

  “Are you hungry?” He was famished, but not for food.

  “I could eat.” She crossed her legs and leaned forward to doodle in the sand, gracefully drawing a simple smiley face. “But I can wait.”

  Suddenly he couldn’t wait to taste her again. His patience had snapped on every level, and he wanted to kiss her nearly as much as he wanted to see his son. He could no longer muster any good arguments for keeping his distance.

  “Tara.” His plea came out low and rough.

  She gazed up into his eyes, her own a mesmerizing dark brown, like the richest coffee. Slowly, she reached up and caressed his cheek.

  Fuck it. A man could only take so much.

  He lowered his head and kissed her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NOTHING SHORT OF a hurricane could have stopped Tara from kissing Jeff. She opened to him, drawn by a cellular-level need, an unnameable force that made the touch of his lips, the slide of his tongue, the feel of his rough palm cradling her cheek irresistible.

  Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she’d have regrets later, but the look on his face when he talked about Evan, the desire in his eyes when he looked at her…

  She couldn’t restrain herself any longer. Didn’t want to. Jeff must’ve felt the same because he kept kissing her, nibbling at her lips, angling her head to deepen the kiss until every stroke plucked her nerves from head to toe.

  He broke the kiss and tucked her under his chin, his breath coming fast as he stroked her back. “Come back to the RV with me?”

  He had to ask? “Yes.”

  In one smooth move, he pushed to his feet, bringing them both to standing, grabbed her hand, and tugged her down the path toward the parking lot where he’d managed to wedge the motor home.

  She felt two-glasses-of-champagne giddy as she nearly jogged behind him to keep up with his long strides. Without letting go, he urged her inside, locking the door behind him.

  Spinning, he sat on the loveseat and tugged her into the V of his legs as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She went willingly, raking her fingers through his hair, molding her body to his heat.

  He buried his face against her neck and held her, inhaling deeply as he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

  Electricity arced from his mouth to her core, and she gasped, melting under his touch. His fingers blazed a slow path from her shoulders to the backs of her knees as his lips and tongue took a tortuous route across her jaw. She rubbed her thigh against the erection already straining his jeans.

  Jeff grunted, jumping to a hot, deep kiss that left her dizzy.

  He licked and sucked at her mouth like a man tasting sugar for the first time, his hands working magic against her bare skin as he pushed up her sweater and T-shirt past her ribs. Cool air brushed her skin and she raised her arms. He tossed the clothes on the table before covering her breasts with his large hands, slipping his fingertips into the cups of her bra.

  Her hips jerked, seeking, aching. She undid the clasp at her back and let her bra fall to the floor. Jeff groaned, smoothing his hands up and over her shoulders, his mouth latching onto her nipple.

  Oh, God.

  Tara’s breath hitched and she arched back, biting her lip to keep from crying out, gripping his head so he wouldn’t stop. He had her in thrall, lost to sensation. Heat, suction, the rasp of stubble over her sensitive skin, the reverent caress of his fingers as they stroked down her stomach.

  Why had she denied herself this joy for so long?

  He’ll break your heart.

  He wouldn’t. Not if she didn’t give it to him. Not if she didn’t expect his in return.

  Their attraction was undeniable and electric. Where was the harm in giving in if she knew the outcome from the beginning?

  No expectations, no promises. No problem.

  Jeff stopped and looked up at her, his lips wet, his eyes dark with hunger tempered by concern, his thumbs idly brushing across her nipples, sparking waves of joy that made her body tingle from head to toe. “Is this ok—”

  Before either of them could think too hard, she lowered her head and pressed her mouth to his, wrapping her arms around his neck as she urged him to stand. Without breaking the kiss, he rose to his full height, lifting her with him until she could close her legs around his waist, carefully avoiding his stitches.

  Striding into his tiny bedroom, he laid her gently on the bed and looked down at her. His expression was unreadable, but h
e couldn’t hide his rapid breathing, flushed cheeks, or the bulge in his pants.

  Yet, he did nothing.

  Resisting the urge to cover her bare torso, she reached instead for the button of her jeans and slid it free. “Don’t stop now.”

  Still, he hesitated. “I don’t want to be like those other guys, but I can’t promise more than this moment.”

  Her heart slipped, just a little, but he wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already figured out. The fact that he even worried about it made him a hundred times better than any of her previous lovers.

  No, not lovers. With the exception of Colin, they’d been nothing but sexual partners. Jeff was already far more.

  Sitting up, she moved her fingers to his waistband and slowly undid the top button. “You’re nothing like those other guys.” His entire body tensed as she lowered the zipper. “And we both want this.”

  He stopped breathing when she slipped her hand inside his plaid boxers and stroked him.

  “No expectations.” She shoved his jeans and underwear down his muscular thighs.

  “No promises.” Gripping his buttocks, she leaned in, watching his eyes close on a groan when she licked the tip of his cock.

  “No regrets.” She closed her lips around his erection and sucked him deep into her mouth.

  He inhaled on a hiss, hot and hard, and sexy personified. His breath quickly turned ragged, and he thrust his hips gently, tangling his fingers in her hair. “Tara.” Her name escaped on a breath, a low, tortured sound.

  A sense of power curled through her. She wanted more. She wanted him to completely let go. She wanted to give him that. Kneading the back of his thigh with one hand, she caressed his balls, stroking, rolling, gently squeezing.

  “Oh, fuck.” Sweat shimmered on his creased brow. “I’m—”

  She hummed her pleasure and ever so lightly scraped her teeth up his length, before taking him deep and sucking hard.

  Jeff turned rigid and threw his head back, shuddering silently as he came in her mouth, hot and salty and, in this moment, totally hers.

  Holy, holy fuck. Jeff was tempted to make sure his head was still attached as he gazed down at Tara, topless, her mouth wrapped around him.

  Jesus.

  Slowly, she let him slide free and leaned back, licking her lips.

  He tried like hell to catch his breath. And his bearings. He’d had fantasies, but the reality had far surpassed anything he could’ve imagined. Maybe because he’d never experienced such an intense response to the act in his life.

  Her forehead creased and she shifted as if to get up. Shit. How long had he been standing there like an idiot, drinking in the sight of her gorgeous face, wet lips, and naked breasts? He shook his head at himself. What the hell was he waiting for?

  He had other fantasies.

  “My turn.” He stripped off his shirt, stepped out of his pants and shoes, set his weapon and holster on the nightstand, and dropped to his knees.

  She recovered with a sinful smile as her gaze roved over his naked torso. “Do your worst,” she said, lying back on the age-yellowed bedspread, stretching her hands overhead like a pinup girl.

  Goddamn. Her unabashed nature was so fucking sexy. She didn’t play coy, or embarrassed, or shy. She reveled in the moment and in her feminine power, and he’d never wanted a woman more.

  In fact, if he wasn’t careful, he was going to want her more. Along with expectations and promises. And regrets when he had to let her go.

  Stop thinking and enjoy the moment.

  He could sort out the rest later.

  Climbing onto the bed and supporting himself on his hands, he started with a slow, deep kiss, delving into her sweet mouth. His dick twitched with renewed interest, already growing hard at the feel of her smooth skin under his palm as he caressed her face, her neck, her breast.

  Supporting himself on one arm, he let his lips follow the downward path of his fingers, licking and sucking her honeyed skin, cataloguing her moans and sighs and the flutter of her fingers along his bare back.

  Her pelvis pressed up to meet him when he reached the waistband of her jeans. The top button was already undone, and he flashed back to the photography studio, immediately after he’d kicked in the door and found her naked to the waist.

  Her red face, how quickly she’d dressed, how she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  Rage turned his blood to ash. If Mars weren’t already dead, Jeff would’ve been tempted to kill the motherfucker himself.

  Easy. He forced a deep breath. Tara was here, right here beneath him, whole and safe and sexy as hell. And willing.

  Laying a shaky palm on her belly, he asked, “May I?”

  A startled laugh escaped her and she propped herself on her elbows to look at him. Her smile quickly faded under the intensity of his gaze. She smoothed a hand down his arm and toyed with his fingers. “If you don’t, I’ll be sorely disappointed.”

  “The last thing I want to do is disappoint you,” he said, rising to his knees before unzipping her jeans to reveal white cotton panties.

  He glanced up to find her watching him, her face a mask of desire that set his heart pounding as much as the scrap of clothing between him and his ultimate destination. Curling his fingers over her sharp hipbones, he tugged her pants and underwear down her slim thighs, standing to finish the job.

  Good God. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, taking her in from the shiny black hair fanned around her head to her red-painted toenails. Sparkling brown eyes, those fucktastically magic lips, pert breasts, well-groomed curls between her thighs… Mesmerizing.

  Her cheeks flamed.

  “And intelligent.” He kissed the spot just below her adorable belly button, smiling when her stomach muscles twitched. “And resilient.” He traced the curve of her hips with his hands, and urged her legs apart as he fell to his knees, dropping soft-as-air kisses on her inner thighs until she squirmed. “And sweet.”

  He licked his way up until he found the secret spot that made her buck and cry out. That’s it, honey. Stroking up her legs, he slowly, slowly slid a finger into her wet heat, invoking a breathy moan that turned him granite-hard.

  Adding another finger, he set to the challenge of giving her as much pleasure as she’d given him, delighting in every cry, every catch of her breath, every scrape of her nails against his scalp.

  He held down her hips with one hand while she panted and squirmed and begged. She raked her fingers through his hair, her other hand twisted in the bedspread above her head.

  “Jeff.”

  His heart skipped at the desperate sound. He lifted one of her feet and placed it on the edge of the mattress, opening her wider. Slipping his free hand beneath her hips, he feasted on her luscious pussy until she tensed up and cried out, shuddering as her core pulsed around his fingers.

  She was fucking magnificent. The rise and fall of her breasts, the near-painful ecstasy on her face, the strands of hair stuck to her damp forehead.

  A far cry from the sleek dresses, delicate heels, and perfect hair she wore at work.

  He very much preferred her like this.

  She sat up and wrapped her legs around him, framing his face with her warm hands. “Fuck me,” she said, her voice husky, the words almost a question.

  His pulse spiked. Hell, yeah. Could she possibly believe he didn’t want to?

  Picking her up, he turned so he sat on the bed with her straddling his thighs, then retrieved a condom from the wallet in his jeans, checking first to make sure it hadn’t expired.

  “May I?” She mirrored his earlier words, holding out her hand.

  He gave her the condom, caressing her back and shoulders while she nearly brought him to the edge with her delicate touch. Scooting back until his calves hit the bed, he lifted her hips and urged her down onto his aching cock.

  She slid home like she belonged there, and he shuddered at the feel of her squeezing him. He moved in and out of her slick heat, the friction frying the circuits in hi
s brain. Had he really believed he could be satisfied with having her once?

  Goddamned fool.

  Rather than lie back and lose the skin-to-skin contact, he stayed upright, wrapping his arms across her back, bringing them chest to chest, burying his nose in her hair.

  She moaned when he kissed her neck and shoulder, squeezed him deep when he kneaded her buttocks, kept pace with him as he neared his climax. Pulling back just enough, he slipped his hand between them and stroked her clit, losing his rhythm pounding into her glorious body.

  Tara gasped, her core rippling and gripping him as she gently bit his shoulder.

  At the unexpected pressure, Jeff went supernova. Bliss enveloped him like a dive into a warm pool of water, leaving him breathless and weak.

  He lay back, taking her with him so she draped over his body like the quilt he tugged over both of them. His harsh breaths mingled with hers in the cool air against the faint backdrop of passing cars and a barking dog.

  If he had his way, he’d never move, never leave this cocoon, never give her up.

  Wait, what? Back the hell up.

  It was just sex.

  Spectacular, mind-blowing, best-of-his-life sex, but it could never be more than that.

  Sure, he liked Tara, and she seemed to like him. And kids. But they had nothing in common. She was still an extroverted, high-maintenance, city girl, whereas he’d rather be alone in the hills, sleeping in a tent—or not—under the stars.

  And he had plans. Even if she were a perfect match for him outside of the bedroom too, he had to put Evan and school first. His son needed stability. A permanent home and a father with a job that let him be there every night. In the face of that, Jeff’s love life had zero priority.

  Tara could not be his.

  But he already wanted her again.

  Tara could tell the second Jeff started to have doubts. His languid body tensed, and he stopped combing a hand through her hair mid-stroke.

  Just froze.

  She’d told him no promises or expectations as much to convince herself as to reassure him, but despite her admonition that there’d be no regrets, she’d been lying.