Bound to Her by Deborah Pin (debian ebook reader txt) 📕

this thing playing out when she knocked on his door

nervously but who the hell was she to complain? She was panting like a

dog and his chest rose and fell against the side of her body as he relaxed.

“And here I thought I needed to take a run later.” She smiled at his humor and he pulled her body so she was lying on her back. He looked

down at her, smiling gently as he met her eyes.

His gaze ran over her body, stopping at her mangled breast. His brow

flinched but he kept going. His fingers ran over her stomach and then moved lower to cup her between her legs. Fuck, she was sore. That was

apparently just the name of the game with him but he’d hear no

complaints from her.

She’d never had such amazing orgasms as she had with him. He was

generous with the pleasure he doled out and she was enjoying being the

center of his attention after months of pathetically lukewarm sex with Jason. This man knew what he was doing.

He stood, offering her a hand and he led her away to his bedroom and into the master bath. She’d not had a chance to comment on his home but she loved it. It was incredibly comfortable and masculine in a

warm, safe sort of way. She loved the earthiness of it. The warm colors,

the straight, authentic lines of his furniture. She’d barely caught a glimpse of everything there was to see but she loved it. It felt like him.

He started the bath and returned to where he’d left her standing by the sink. “Stay tonight.”

She nodded.

“Stay all week.”

She said nothing for a moment but then met his expectant and

demanding expression. She nodded again and he leaned to her mouth.

Lunatics aside, this might be one hell of a good week.

Chapter Twenty

She helped him with breakfast the next morning and when her cell

phone started ringing she snatched it up quickly. He knew instantly it was Smith or Terrell just by the way her eyes moved to his quickly.

“No, I didn’t stay at Imogen’s last night and I won’t be there much this week.” She listened as she chewed on the inside of her lip and fidgeted. “Just with a friend. I’d rather not say but I’m safe.”

More silence as she shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry but I’m not

going to tell you.” Her eyes met his as he poured her a cup of coffee. “I’ll make sure to call you whenever I’m going to Imogen’s house but I’m sorry, I don’t owe you any other explanation than that. No, you…”

She was struggling to maintain control of this conversation and he wanted to reach through the phone and bitch-slap whoever the hell was

talking to her. “I said no. I’m not… No! Shut up and listen to me.”

Apparently she wasn’t losing control of this one at all.

“My life has been in danger for the past month. I’m as safe where I’m

at as I could be anywhere. This is my damn life and quite frankly when

this fucktard finally kills me—” Fucktard? “it’ll be my death too, so you can just kiss off unless you have something constructive to say!”

And then she hung up on him, taking a deep steadying breath before

she looked back to Dillon, whose mouth was no doubt hanging open.

“Umm…coffee?” He held out a cup to her and she offered a weak,

apologetic smile.

“Sorry. That was wrong, wasn’t it?”

“It was …interesting. And what is a fucktard exactly?”

Now her cheeks turned pink and she shook her head. “I’m not

actually sure. I hear these words at school and I’m not always sure what

they mean but it seemed appropriate for some reason.”

He couldn’t stop smiling at her. He made them toast and joined her at

the dining room table and he just watched her. He had no idea if this woman could love him. He knew he loved her and he knew the idea she

was in danger was painful in a way he’d never experienced before with a witness.

It wasn’t pleasant knowing all the ways she could be hurt, destroyed

and taken from him. He understood the threat too well to ignore it and

he was prepared to lose everything to protect her from it.

He’d worked hard for his career but if forced to choose between her

and his career, there was no real question anymore how he would side.

He’d choose her hands down and never look back so long as he could keep her safe while doing it.

“Kat, would you take a self-defense class?” She looked up from her bite of toast and nodded.

“So long as you understand I can trip over my feet walking on flat ground barefoot.”

“And yet you managed to stay on your feet while I fucked you up an

entire flight of stairs yesterday. I’d say you’re a bit more coordinated than you give yourself credit for.” He smirked as her cheeks turned pink.

When the color in her cheeks died down, she looked out the window

for a moment and then back to him. “You should use me as bait, then pounce on the bad guy when he comes after me.”

She looked half serious which made him want to punish her for being

so naïve. “You realize I’m already mad at you for driving yourself to class, right? Now you’re really pushing it. Shit like that only works in the movies when everybody gets to go home safe and alive at the end of the

day. And if I’m not making myself clear enough, that was a hell no.”

“Fine, party pooper. Just an idea.”

“Self-defense, mace, that’s perhaps a better plan of action for you.

And one that won’t give me a coronary. I know an officer who teaches a

class and we’ll see about getting you in it but I’ll get you started today and go over a few things with you.”

“So, self-defense is on the agenda for the day?”

“Unless you have somewhere more important to be.” He smirked and

she shook her head.

“How about you make love to me first? Then, I’ll do whatever self-defense mumbo-jumbo you want me to.”

“Deal. Now get your ass upstairs to bed.”

* * * * *

She was quite sore—not to mention exhausted—by the time he’d

finished with her. It was also late in the afternoon by the time they even

felt like leaving the bedroom. Not that he was so insanely virile that he

could fuck for hours on end but it was just an incredible day spent watching TV in bed, making love a couple of times, countless rounds of

some type of foreplay and then finally a long hot shower.

He plucked the butterfly bandages from her breast as she stood under

the hot jets of water. He was careful and he gently traced the straight lines of already-healing cuts. However awful and disturbing the

crisscross pattern looked, the cuts were actually very shallow and she could already see pink scar tissue filling in.

“I think I’m going to buy you a new dildo. Either that or I’m going to

have to steal yours from evidence.” He was murmuring against her ear.

“I’d prefer a new one. Who knows what that wackjob did with mine.

And why might I ask are you wanting to buy me a new one?”

“I’ve been having incredible fantasies about watching you fuck

yourself. Sorry, but it’s true. I would absolutely love to watch you.” Her

entire body was prickling with a sudden flush of need.

“So long as you buy me a new vibrator too then, or fetch mine from

my house. It was never much fun without that.” She should probably be

shutting up right about now but then she wouldn’t be very Katrina if she

controlled her mouth.

“Odd Mr. Lunatic didn’t manage to get his hands on that too. Maybe

I’ll just break into your house for it.”

She was laughing as his hands ran over her skin. It might well be a quirky conversation but she was aroused…again. Seemed to be a

constant thing today.

“Well he wouldn’t necessarily have found them both because I didn’t

keep them together. The vibrator’s in my underwear drawer and the now

sadly inadequate fake penis was in the bathroom. Penises belong in bathrooms, vibrators belong in bedrooms. Everybody knows that.” She

was full of shit but the abrupt end to laughter stopped her dead in her tracks and she pulled back to look at him.

“Wait. Not the nightstand. You have a nightstand, but you kept it in

the bathroom?” She failed to see his interest but she nodded. “Where?”

“Under the sink in a little drawer unit that I use for storage. Why?”

“Fuck. Sweetie, your house wasn’t ransacked.”

“Okay? I don’t understand.” Her arousal was fading but her interest

was certainly piqued.

“We made the mistake of assuming you kept it in your nightstand or

somewhere easy to find. It would be one thing for a person to break in,

open a nightstand drawer and find condoms, sex toys, lube, you name it.

It would almost be expected. If not there, a dresser drawer perhaps. I’d

expect the man to find your sex toys someplace that is easy to speculate

where to find or even somewhere he’d seen you put it when he spied on

you.”

“And?”

“If he found it in your bathroom in the sink cupboard within a storage

drawer and he did all that without ransacking your house, then he knew

where the hell to look.” Her skin suddenly felt like it was crawling with

maggots and bile was suddenly churning in her throat.

“Well maybe he saw me when he was spying on me.”

“And if a person could see your bathroom from any exterior window

of your home that might be possible. Your bathroom is in the hallway halfway down the hall. It has no window and it’s not visible from any exterior windows. Who knew it was there?”

“Umm, no one. I mean…” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Did Jason know where you kept it?” She could tell he was trying to

keep the accusation from his voice but it was there and when her eyes found his, his jaw was tight and his expression was harsh.

“Yes. But it wasn’t Jason. Jason may have blue eyes but I heard this man’s voice. It isn’t Jason.”

Given the sarcastic angry expression on his face, he didn’t have much

appreciation for her opinion on the matter. “Yeah? Well you dated the asshole for months without realizing what a dick he was so I’m not sure I

have much faith in your judgment.” He was pissed and as he turned from her and stalked out of the shower without another word she

stomped after him.

“Well he knew where my vibrator was too. If he’s Mr. Psycho, why

didn’t he get that out too? Double whammy of Katrina humiliation, huh?” She was getting more pissed by the second. Dillon was standing dripping wet and naked in front of her and he just glared at her.

“Get back in the shower.”

“No!”

He rolled his eyes but it was without a shred of humor. “You haven’t

even rinsed your hair.” Suds dropped from the top of her head to the tile

floor as if on cue and he walked from the room, slamming the door.

She finished her shower, staying there for a long time just staring at

the tile walls surrounding her. She was trying to calm down. She didn’t

want to fight with Dillon. He’d made a valid point and it was as much a

clue as any they’d found and here she was overreacting. But what the fuck! If she was overreacting he was doing a damn fine job of overreacting too.

When she finally stepped from the enclosure, she sucked in a quick breath. He was standing up against the counter with his arms folded and

his ankles crossed. He was still just as naked as he’d been before but his

expression had softened marginally.

“This is why I can’t be a detective on your case. I’m at big risk of killing potential suspects because they’ve fucked you and happen to be complete assholes.”

He stared at her feet for a moment. “Nice loss of perspective, huh? I

hate that you’ve slept with that man. I hate that he knows you intimately

and he knows things about your life that I don’t—even stupid shit like where you keep your fucking sex toys.” He shook his head. He was irritated with himself and her irritation was dissipating.

He led her back to bed and crawled in next to her. So much for self-

defense. He held her for the rest of the night. They talked. He seemed intent on asking her everything under the sun about herself—her family,

her history, her life. She couldn’t complain. She wanted him to know and

she spent just as much time delving into his own past.

She was envious of his relationship with his family. It was obvious they meant the world to him and she missed it now that her dad was gone but she loved that he understood the importance. She didn’t like hearing about his past relationships, shallow as they appeared to be, any

more than he liked to hear about Jason. She understood. He belonged to

her in some sense and she really hoped he understood that she belonged to him if he’d have her too.

They fell asleep and when he woke her in the middle of the night it

was with his fingers exploring her body. He touched and caressed every

inch of her. He pushed slowly into her, first one finger then a second.

When he added a third, she groaned at the intensity. It wasn’t as intense

as making love but it was close enough to leave her trying to relax her muscles around him. He stroked the pad of his thumb over her clit and

she started writhing as he leaned over her body. When he stopped

suddenly, she almost sobbed.

“That man will never touch you again, do you understand?” He

wasn’t angry but the adamancy was undeniable.

“I made that decision a long time ago. I promise.”

He stroked her clit and she crumbled in his arms, gasping as her orgasm overcame her. She dug her nails into his upper arm as her insides

gripped his fingers. She was repeating his name against his neck like a damn broken record but he hummed against her skin in contentment.

“I have to tell Smith and Terrell.” He spoke into the darkness as she

lay panting beside him. “They need to know they should be looking for

someone who had access to your home before the break-in. They need to

start looking at repairmen and anyone else who could know your

personal habits. Stephens and I ran down as many of the workmen as we

could from the contractor information you gave us but I think they need

to dig deeper. We hit some dead ends due to turnover, layoffs and poorly

kept employment records but there’s gotta be something there.”

“But if you tell Smith and Terrell…”

“I’m going to tell Smith and Terrell.”

“Dillon…” He shushed her quickly and pulled her into his arms. She

didn’t need to see his face to see the concern. There was a weight sitting

on his conscience at the moment and he couldn’t hide that from her.

Chapter Twenty-One

Dillon had no idea why he was so enraged by her past with Jason and

he watched her sleeping beside him trying to figure it out. Dillon wasn’t

the jealous type—never had been. But when it came to her he was all sorts of jealous.

He wanted to know he meant something to her and he couldn’t stand

to think he was just another Jason to her. It was probably his own doing.

He’d kept his relationships casual since Shannon had died and Katrina was the first one since her he wanted to keep permanently. Yet he had this incredible fear she saw him in the way he usually saw his women.

She didn’t really seem built for such casualness but it didn’t stop him

from fearing it. He didn’t want to be to her what he’d made every relationship he’d had before her into be.

She was so beautiful. Her light-brown hair was long and straight and

her lips had that full poutiness. He caught himself licking his own lips just at the sight of hers. Her face muscles twitched occasionally as she dreamed and when she moaned quietly he ran his hand down her

shoulder and kissed her forehead. When he pulled back he could see her

open eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“I care about you too. I’m sorry I didn’t say it the other morning.” He

stared at her, trying to get his throat to swallow, trying to breathe, trying to get his tongue out of the way so he could respond. When she sat up,

shaking her head and turning from him, he knew he’d fucked up. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling himself up to sit behind her.

“Stop. Don’t you even think of running away from me.” He pulled

her hair over her shoulder so he could kiss her neck and he sucked gentle

kisses along her neckline. She dropped her head to the side and he nuzzled up under her ear. He still wasn’t saying what he needed to say

but then she wasn’t saying what he needed her to say either.

He pulled her back down to bed and she curled into his arms. They

stayed there until the next morning. He really did want to show her some

self-defense moves but every time he mentioned it to her that day or

brought it up, they somehow ended up in bed or curled up together on the couch. It was Sunday after all and they weren’t ready to deal with real life, real threat, real anything. His home felt safe to him—it always

had—and having her in it not only felt right and comfortable, it felt safe.

“I have to go feed Kitty and get some clothes.” He said nothing as she

looked at him, waiting for a response. If he said no, he had no doubt she’d tell him to fuck off. Perhaps she’d say it nicer than she said it to Smith and Terrell but she had no problem standing up to pretty much anyone and she wasn’t going to neglect her cat for her own safety.

“I’m guessing they’re not sitting on Imogen’s house as much as they

would if you were staying there, so you need to make sure they know when you’re going to be there. They’ll likely have an officer meet you there, and if they don’t I want to know because you shouldn’t be there alone. I think you should just bring your cat with you.”

Now he was expecting an argument and he got it.

“Kitty is over twenty years old. You don’t just tote around geriatric cats from one place to another for a few days. She’s not a dog. You just

can’t…”

“You could just stay.” He said it casually but inside he was freaking

the hell out. What the hell had he just proposed? He stood and walked from the room without giving her a chance to respond. He flopped down

on the couch and turned the TV on.

It didn’t take her long to find him and he muted the TV as she sat next

to him. He was lounged back on the sectional and he let his hand trail up

under the bottom of her shirt as he studied her eyes. Feeling so desperate

for a woman wasn’t something he was used to. It put her in an odd state

of control over him he didn’t usually—ever—give up so easily.

“I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“Yes you are. But you’re right. It was a stupid idea. Forget I said it.”

She looked hurt for a moment but he was hurt that she was surprised he’d asked. Again, what wasn’t being said was fucking everything up but it just wasn’t the time.

Her life was in danger, their relationship was moving far faster than it

had any business going at the moment—hell, his own son wasn’t even fully aware of what was happening. None of the things that needed to happen for them to move forward had happened and until her life was

secure there was little point. Not that he was willing to lose her, not that he intended to but, fuck it, was hard to figure out how to move past this

until she was safe. Maslow was one smart-ass shrink who’d nailed it.

They were just stuck on a rung of a ladder, unable to take the next step

up.

Her lips were slightly parted and her expression was weary and

confused, all the things he didn’t want her to feel but since his words just seemed to complicate things he let his lips fix it. He took her mouth gently. He tasted her and held her lips to his with a firm hand on her cheek.

He could absolutely see a life with her. She might be younger than he

but she was mature, smart, a bit bold when she wanted to be. He could

see her home here with he and Seth and he knew his son well enough, even at thirteen, to know he could handle this. They could be a family together.

Family. That damn thing she lost a few years ago and he wanted to give her. He had no idea if she wanted children of her own but he wouldn’t balk at the idea of giving her that too. He was young enough at

thirty-five and she’d make an outstanding parent. There was no doubt of

it. Seth would also make an incredible older brother.

He was planning their damn lives out together as she sat nervously by his side. His hand was still under the bottom of her shirt but his fingers had stilled the moment the conversation got strained.

“I have to go to the precinct for a while. Don’t forget to call Smith and

Terrell before you leave. I’ll leave you a key on the table before I hop in

the shower.” He stood as her eyes followed him from the room.

When he’d finished showering and dressing she was already gone.

He’d worry until he saw her again but he wasn’t lying when he’d said he

needed to go to the precinct. He called Stephens, bracing himself for a shitstorm of irritation and minutes later, he was out the door.

* * * * *

She ended up doing two loads of laundry while she was at Imogen’s.

She spent the rest of her time snuggling with Kitty on the couch while she waited for the buzzer. The day was warm and the sun lit up the great

room of Imogen’s home. Katrina dozed as Kitty purred and by the time

her laundry was folded and she had a few outfits, clean underwear and a toothbrush crammed in a bag, the sun was just starting to set.

She decided to call Imogen, knowing where the conversation was

going to go even before she dialed but Imogen was her best friend and she needed to talk.

“You slept with him!” She was practically squealing into the phone.

“Yeah well I don’t know if it will happen again. I just keep screwing

this up. I literally can never say the right thing and I’m not even sure what the right thing to say is!”

“Did you ever think honesty might be the way to go?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Do you love him?”

“Oh come on, Imogen. I don’t want to answer that question.”

“Why not?”

“Because…I can’t possibly know how he feels about me and I don’t

want to love someone who doesn’t feel the same for me as I do for him.

That would destroy me.”

“What makes you so sure he doesn’t love you too?”

“It’s been little over a month. The circumstances surrounding our

relationship are just…well it’s just chaos. What if what I’m feeling is the

result of this adrenaline, this life upheaval that I’m experiencing?”

“You can’t possibly believe that. I know you better than that. Mum and Dad asked me to tell you hi and that they’re thinking of you. They’re

also pissed I didn’t bring you with me. You know how much they love

you after that time you picked me up in college.”

“Imogen, I bailed you out of jail.”

“The charges were dismissed, duh. So it’s not like I was really

arrested.”

“The UK justice system isn’t so different from ours, Imogen. You were

arrested. I promise you. Listen, I’ll talk to you soon. I miss you.”

“Miss you too, Trink. Be careful.”

Moments later there was a knock on her door and she spoke with the

officer who’d met her at the gate when she’d arrived. He’d inspected the

interior of the house and then patrolled the property while another patrol

officer circled the block. She was starting to feel like a drain on the Seattle taxpayers but she was grateful. When she returned inside, her phone rang again. Apparently her lazy afternoon was over. It was Dillon.

“Can we have dinner downtown?” She said nothing for a moment.

She was actually just relieved he didn’t seem upset with her. “Kat? Are

you okay?”

“Yes. Yeah, sorry. Of course we can.” He gave her the address and told her which parking garage to park in. So apparently not all parking

garages were a no-no. And once she was there she found a space easily.

It was Sunday evening and the garage was deserted but it didn’t stop the

gears from turning in her head.

She started panicking the moment she turned off her car. The concrete

walls and low ceilings suddenly seemed so claustrophobic and she

couldn’t seem to open her door. But instead of letting her imagination get

away from her she dialed him.

“I’m here. But shit. I’m sorry. I’m just afraid to even get out of the car.” She felt ridiculous as she said the words.

“What level are you on? I’ll come to you.”

He pulled in next to her less than a minute later and as she finally unlocked her door and opened it he was there beside her, pulling her up

into a tight embrace. “You’re okay, baby.” He murmured against her ear

as she inhaled a lurching breath. Yes she was. So long as he was there she’d be just fine. He grabbed her bag from the front seat of her car and

tossed it in the backseat of his as she watched him curiously.

“We’re leaving your car here. Being all covert-like.” He smirked and

she shook her head.

“And what happens when I need a car?” She was challenging him.

“Well, we’ll just get yours if we need to. Otherwise you can take a cab

if you have to or I can take you where you need to go. Neither of us have

to work this week, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“You know leaving my car in this garage for a few days is going to cost me a pretty penny.”

“You’re a teacher. You make plenty of money.” She snorted at that one. “I’m paying for dinner to make up for it and you might just have to

let me pay to bust your car out of here too.” He took her hand, pulling

her toward the elevator.

The restaurant was quiet, quaint and perfect. It was Italian—you

could never go wrong with Italian in Katrina’s opinion. He sat across from her, watching her. He seemed to enjoy looking at her and frankly,

she found it sexy as hell when he studied her so seriously. He was obviously not upset about earlier and she certainly wasn’t either.

“How’s Kitty?”

“Alive. That’s about the most I can say about the old bat at this point.” He smiled.

“And an officer met you there?”

“Yes. Searched the house, patrolled the property. No sign of any

activity there from what he said.”

“Good.”

“Why did you go to the precinct today?” She was afraid she already

knew the answer to that question but she asked anyway. The overlong pause that met her question made it clear she was right on the money.

“I called Stephens and asked him to meet me there. I wanted to talk to

him about our conversation and the possibility the perp had been inside

your home before the break-in.” She just nodded as he talked. “I gave him the watered-down version of our conversation. I left out the fact we

were in the shower and a good portion of what I said to you leading up

to our conversation. I admitted I’d talked to you, which was bad enough

given his reaction and I filled him in on why I thought this perp has had

access to your home before.”

“You talked to Stephens about my dildo?”

“Everyone knows you have a dildo at this point, sweetie.”

“It’s humiliating.”

“I personally find it sexy as hell. I’m sorry you find it humiliating.”

He was smirking and as the waitress suddenly arrived with their food he

didn’t even bother looking up to her as she set their plates down. He was

back to studying her.

“So what did Stephens say?” She spoke around a mouth full of

eggplant parmesan.

“He called me a dumb fucking idiot, then he agreed with me. Smith

and Terrell were there and I let Stephens do the talking. He didn’t

mention when I spoke to you about it. He only filled them in on the conversation and when they asked when we’d spoken, he sidestepped

the question and I left before it could go any further. Doesn’t much matter and they know that. So long as they move their investigation down that path and follow up further on the contractor leads like they should, it’s none of their business.”

“You really think it could be one of the contractors?”

“There are an incredible number of scenarios to consider but they’re

right to delve into it further. I don’t want to talk more specifically about it than that with you but I can guarantee you Smith and Terrell will. You

need to be honest, you need to be open, you need to try really hard to remember the details they ask for. Your cooperation is a huge asset to them and it needs to stay that way.”

She nodded. He was putting a kibosh on the topic but she

understood. Having this conversation with him now would make it

redundant later. Best to just deal with the detectives who could use the

information she gave them and not put details in Dillon’s hands that would leave him in the position of having to pass clues along to them.

Scary how much she was starting to understand this conflict from his point of view.

“What if you just like me because of all of this?” Her mouth was feeling far too comfortable. It must be the Italian.

“This?” He mocked with a forkful of chicken saltimbocca halfway to

his mouth.

“This case. The