Chapter 4

Lori

The first raindropis a cold kiss against my cheek, and in seconds, the sky opens like its ripping apart at the seams. Im drenched, my black hair plastered to my face, clothes clinging like theyre in on some raunchy secret. The city streets are suddenly slick and shiny, like theyve been dipped in varnish, and the crowd around me scatters for cover.

Damn, I mutter, pulling my jacket tighter around me. It does squat against the downpour. A shiver runs down my spine—not just from the chill, but from the realization that Im adrift in this storm with nowhere to crash.

Then it hits me. Doug.

Come over any time, he had said, with that half-smile that does funny things to my insides. His address is burned into my brain, and before I know it, my feet are sloshing through puddles, leading me straight to him.

His building looms ahead, a beacon of warmth and shelter, and my heart picks up the pace, thumping an erratic rhythm. I buzz his apartment, my fingertips numb and clumsy from the cold. When he answers, his voice crackles through the intercom, Hello?

Hey, its me. I...uh, took you up on your offer.

He doesn’t hesitate. Come on up.

The anticipation coils tight in my belly as I make my way up the stairs, each step heavy with the weight of what Im about to do—what I want to do.

I knock on his door, and it swings open almost immediately. Doug stands there, all solid muscle and soft brown eyes that seem to see right through to the mess that is Lori White. Rain is dripping off of me, forming a puddle at our feet thats nothing compared to the pool of desire swirling inside me.

Jesus, Lori, youre soaked through. Concern etches his features, but its quickly replaced by something hotter, something hungrier, as his gaze rakes over me.

Can I come in? My voice is a hoarse whisper, betraying me.

Of course.

I step over the threshold, and I’m suddenly eye level with his bare chest.

He stares down at me.

I stare up at him—looking like a drowned kitten, I’m sure.

And then were crashing into each other, like two storms colliding. His lips find mine with a desperation that mirrors my own, and the world outside fades away. Its just me and Doug, and the way he makes me feel like Im not just some lost girl in the rain, but someone worth coming in out of the storm for.

Fuck, Lori. Been thinking bout this since the day I first saw you, he breathes against my lips, and god, so have I. I can taste the honesty on his tongue and the promise of whats to come.

Me too, I confess, and its true. From the moment I saw him, I was counting the seconds until I could see him again.

Doug pulls me closer, and Im home. I’ve never had a home. Don’t even know what one would feel like. But I imagine it feels like this. Like Doug’s arms wrapped around me. His lips hot on my neck. His soft whispers against my ear. His hardness prodding me through our clothing.

I’m home. Not in the four-walls-and-a-roof kind of way, but in the heart-racing, soul-baring sense.

Dougs hands slide over my soaked shirt, tracing lines of fire on my skin. I cant help but arch into his touch, a soft moan slipping from my lips. Each caress is like a spark that travels straight to my core, lighting me up from the inside.

Damn, Lori, he murmurs, and I feel the vibration of his voice against my mouth. His fingers dance down my back, dipping lower, and I shiver—not from cold, but from sheer anticipation. Ive never been good at holding back, and with Doug, I dont want to.

More, I gasp out, the word a plea and a command all rolled into one.

Greedy girl, he teases, but theres no reprimand in his tone, just the promise of more—more heat, more touch, more Doug.

I tangle my fingers in his short brown hair, pulling him closer—if thats even possible. Our kiss deepens, tongues tangling, tasting, teasing. Im drowning in the sensation of him, and Ive never felt more alive. The rain outside might as well be a world away because right now, its just his lips, his hands, his body pressed against mine.

God, youre good at that, I manage between kisses, my hands exploring the muscles that ripple beneath his shirt. Dougs a cop, all strong and protective, but right now, hes all mine—to touch, to taste, to drive absolutely wild.

Only for you, Lori, he says, and I believe him. Theres something in the way he looks at me, like Im not just another girl, like I matter. And in his arms, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I do.

Show me, I whisper, hungry for more than words, hungry for everything he has to offer. And by the way his hands are now tugging at the hem of my shirt, eager to peel away the soaked fabric, I know hes ready to give it to me—all of it.

He pivots, a fluid motion of muscle and might, and my back is against the cool wall in an instant. The sudden shift sends a ripple of excitement through me, and his body presses into mine, solid, insistent. Our connection pulses, an invisible thread pulled taut between us.

“Obsessed with you, he breathes out, his voice husky with need, shaping the words into something tangible, something that brushes my skin like velvet.

Me too, I confess, gasping for air as if Ive been running, but its just Doug—my personal high, my exhilarating rush.

This is crazy, oh so crazy, but I’ve always been called crazy, so what the fuck?

Our lips part, reluctantly, the sound of our mingled breaths loud in the room. His gaze locks onto mine, green meeting brown in a silent conversation filled with longing and promise.

Damn, Lori, Doug whispers, tracing the contour of my jaw with the pad of his thumb, setting off sparks. What you do to me, little girl...

I frown, my heart thumping wildly. I’m not a little girl.

He cups my jaw, his thumbs tracing over where my pulse beats wilding in my throat. “You’re my little girl, sweetheart.”

His brown eyes smolder down at me like melted chocolate, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I feel myself nodding.

Dougs fingers dance downward, tracing fire along my spine. The world outside fades, its just the storm of his touch and the rhythm of rain against the windowpane. You sure? he murmurs, each word a brushstroke against the canvas of my skin.

Never been surer, I shoot back, the words tumbling out with breathless certainty.

He chuckles, low and rumbling, as he peels away my shirt, soaked through from the rain and our heat. Fabric whispers to the floor, forgotten. His hands, those strong, capable hands, mold to my waist, unhurried in their descent.

Slow down, Officer, I tease, arching into his touch, daring him with a playful bite of my lip.

Cant help it, Doug confesses, his voice threaded with restraint and hunger. His thumbs hook into the waistband of my jeans, his gaze never leaving mine, as if hes committing every reaction to memory. Youre under my skin, Lori.

Good, I whisper, and its like striking a match—the flare of his eyes tells me were playing with fire. My jeans join the rest of my clothes on the floor, and the cool air of his apartment licks at my legs, raising goosebumps.

His fingers graze the silky edge of my panties, sending shivers racing across my flesh. Every caress is a promise, every touch a vow, as if hes mapping out territories hes claiming as his own. Theres no room for doubt, not when his hands sculpt desire onto my body, coaxing moans from deep within me.

Feel that? He grunts as he places my hand on his erection. His palms glide up my thighs, his thumbs pressing into softness that aches for more. Thats what you do to me. You’ve had me jacking off in my shower every night to the thought of you. Dreaming of fucking you.

Then do it, I challenge, his words making my heart sprint in my chest. He’s been dreaming of me? Masturbating while thinking of me? Why does that make liquid pool between my thighs?

Dougs lips descend, a cascade of tender kisses peppering the column of my neck. Each brush of his mouth sears a trail that scorches through my veins, a wildfire ignited with every touch. I tilt my head back, offering him more terrain to claim, and he accepts with a fervor that reverberates down to my toes.

God, Doug, I breathe out, my voice hitching as he finds that sensitive spot just below my ear, nipping gently. Its like he knows exactly where to kiss, to lick, to bite, to draw out these raw, untamed sounds from me.

Everything okay? His voice is a low rumble against my skin, laughter dancing in the question.

More than, I manage to gasp, lost somewhere between bliss and delirium.

My hands roam over his chest, fingers tracing the solid planes of muscle honed from years of police training and nights spent chasing down the bad guys. The strength under my fingertips sends a thrill spiraling through me. It’s the kind of power that could easily overpower, yet I feel nothing but safe.

Sturdy, I tease, tapping on his pecs as if testing their resilience.

Comes with the job, he quips back, a smirk playing on his lips before he returns to worshiping my skin.

Handy, I murmur, and my nails graze his nipples, drawing out a sharp inhale from Doug. His body against mine feels like a puzzle piece clicked into place, an anchor in the stormy seas of our desire.

Only for you, he growls, and I pull him closer, wanting no space between us, wanting his warmth, his solidity, everything he offers and represents. Its reckless and its heated, and damn, it feels good.

Were stumbling now, a tangle of limbs and urgent desire as we navigate the short distance to his bed. The world outside his apartment—the rain, my aimless wandering—it all fades into nothingness. Theres only Doug, his strong arms wrapped around me, guiding me, steadying me.

Bed, I gasp out, a giggle bubbling up from the thrill of it all. Now.

Your wish, he says between kisses, is my command.

The back of my knees hit the mattress, and we topple onto it in a mess of laughter and longing. The sheets are cool against my heated skin, but Dougs body is an inferno, enveloping me in a blaze that I never want to extinguish.

God, Lori, he breathes, his voice rough with want as he hovers above me, eyes devouring every inch of my face. Youre incredible.

Show me, I challenge, arching beneath him, offering myself up to the pull of this raw hunger that dances between us.

Doug doesnt need another invitation. His mouth claims mine with an intensity that leaves no room for thought, just feeling—every touch, every sensation amplified. My moans are muffled by his lips, but they echo off the walls, a testament to the fervor we cant contain.

More, I whisper against his mouth, daring him to push us further, to break all the rules.

I’ll give you everything, he promises, his voice a gruff whisper that sends shivers down my spine.

And then he plunges inside me.

I scream as my hymen tears, clinging to him and gasping.

Doug goes completley still as he looks at me with wide eyes. “Is this your first time?”

My cheeks color as I nod in embarrassment.

But Doug’s eyes darken with something darkly possessive. “Mine,” he croaks out hoarsely as he begins to move inside me. “All mine.”

And then the sounds of our pleasure fill the room—slick skin sliding against skin, punctuated by the creaks of the old bed frame as Doug fucks his cock into me over and over again. Our whispers grow louder, words tangling together until theyre just sounds, primal and true.

Doug! I cry out, nails digging into the muscle of his back, urging him on, higher, deeper, lost in the storm of sensation hes conjured within me. Theres no holding back, not when every nerve ending screams his name, not when the reality of him, of us, is so much better than any fantasy Ive ever conjured.

Say it again, he groans, movements becoming more frantic, relentless.

Doug! I oblige, my voice climbing as the pleasure spirals tighter, coiling deep in my belly.

Fuck, Lori! he manages to roar just as I feel his release jetting into me. It’s hot and wet, and I triggers another orgasm. I cling tight to him as it rolls through me, blinding me with its intensity.

We collapse onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths. My heart still jackhammers against my chest, each beat echoing the thunderous pleasure that ripped through me moments ago. Dougs arm wraps around me, pulling me close until his skin is my second layer, warm and slightly damp. Were both shaking, tiny tremors that chase the waves of ecstasy weve just surfed to shore.

Wow, I manage to pant out, my voice sounding foreign in the quiet aftermath.

Understatement of the year, Doug murmurs, his lips tracing the line of my shoulder. The sensation sends little zings of delight skipping across my already oversensitive skin.

For a long while, we just lay there, breathing each other in. His fingers draw idle patterns on my back, soothing the fire weve stoked to roaring flames. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath my palm, grounding me in the reality of him. Of us.

But then, as the haze of passion begins to clear, I sense a shift in him. Its like a cloud passing over the sun, subtle at first but unmistakable.

Doug? I nudge his chin with my nose, trying to catch his gaze.

Hes staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched, the lines of his face etched with something that looks suspiciously like conflict. I know that look.

My heart sinks.

And thats when the hurt blooms, fierce and sudden. It spreads through me, choking and hot, obliterating the remnants of our shared passion.

I knew better than to trust anyone.

I wordlessly pull away from his touch and slip out from under the sheets. My feet hit the cold floor, and Im moving, gathering my scattered clothes in trembling hands. No worries, Officer. I get it. Lines and rules and all that jazz.

Lori— His voice cracks, loaded with things unsaid, promises unmade.

Save it, I cut him off, my tone lighter than I feel. Wouldnt want to make your job harder than it already is.

I dress quickly, ignoring the sting behind my eyes and the hollow feeling in my chest. When Im decent, I throw him a mock salute and force a smile. Thanks for the service, officer. Ill see myself out.

And then I run. Out of his bedroom, out of his apartment, out of the possibility of us. Because I cant stay and watch Doug pick his conscience over me—not when it costs me my heart.