Divided (Unguarded #2) - Ivy Stone Page 0,24
Numb. Now, I’m a junkie with no education and no bright future. But at least, I’m alive. I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t have done what you did for me that night.”
“Ali, I’m so sorry.”
He leans in but I put both hands up to stop him. I need him to hear this. To know why none of this is on him. “Wasn’t your fault. I would never have even spoken to you if I knew you were a cop, let alone open up to you. You gave me hope, Roamyn. I’m here today because of you. You were my hero.”
“I’m not a hero, babe.”
“Yeah? Well, the girl’s life you saved…. she disagrees. Don’t ever doubt that you did the right thing.”
“Well, I sure as hell wasn’t doing the right thing last night. Wish I’d of known it was you in the club before I’d ripped off your clothes.”
My lips pull up into a smirk. “I don’t.”
“You’re too young, Ali. I’m thirty-one. Twelve years older than you, babe. Fuckin’ old.”
I snort. “No, you’re not. But let’s just leave that argument for another day. Why didn’t you tell me you were a cop?”
He’s quick answering with, “Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me you were a part of the Marino crime family. Had I have known what I do now, I would never of let you walk away. Not a chance.”
“I didn’t want them to find you and hurt you. It was better if we just stayed strangers.”
“You thought you were protecting me, I get it. And I was doing the same for you. I came tonight to give you something. Something I should have given you back then.” He reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a small white business card with the NYPD logo on the front beside the small printed letters: Organized Crime Control Bureau, Detective Roamyn Tate.
“Here, it’s got my number on the back. If you’re ever in trouble… use it. That motherfucker wants to hit you again…” he points to my split lip, “…use it. You want out, call me. I’ll get you out of there. Just say the word. But I can’t do any more than that without raising suspicions unless you’re willing to go the distance against your so-called family.”
My gaze falls to the ground. “There’s no point in leaving anymore.”
“You don’t leave soon, babe…. you may never get out.”
His fingers glide over my hand as he passes me the card. Lust shoots straight through me as he pulls me close. Our mouths are all but touching, our breathing uneven. My lips part to speak but he slips away, turning around and walking off into the night. Unease settles in the pit of my stomach as I remember what he said. A light breeze sends a shiver across my skin, and suddenly the idea of being alone on this bridge doesn’t feel so comforting.
My cock stiffens in my hand. I squeeze my shaft tighter, pull harder. I push my head back into the pillow. Sweat drips from my forehead because, fuck, if I haven’t been at this for longer than I planned. I’m mad. Confused. Horny. In just a few days, work, life, pretty much everything has flared into a colossal mess I’ve got no control over, including Alison Jenkins. Her, the need to bring justice to the Marino crime family, the fact I’ve avoided telling Mason the truth about when I first met Ali—it’s consuming, suffocating every other thought running through my head. All I wanted to do tonight was drink, fuck, and sleep. The first of which Mase and I had done at the bar earlier, the fucking part—not very successful so far. Why? Because every woman who flashed me a smile, fluttered her eyelashes at me, promised me a good night with a few dirty words—all reminded me of Ali in some way and I can’t go there. My mind’s blurred with blonde hair and blue eyes that I can’t have. Ones I sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking of with my hand wrapped around my dick, hard as fucking steel. I squeeze my eyes closed and Ali’s face becomes crystal clear, instead of waves crashing away the thought of her. I grunt. Pleasure builds in my balls and they tighten up at imagining it’s Ali’s tight pussy I’m sinking into. I curse under my breath. No. Fuck. Don’t think about her. But it’s no use. She’s become a permanent in my mind and my dick? He fucking loves