Copyright © Kate McCarthy 2014
Smashwords Edition 2014
ISBN-13: 978-0-9875261-6-8
ISBN-10: 0987526162
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any other information storage and retrieval system without the written permission from the author, except for brief quotations in a review.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Please note that Kate McCarthy is an Australian author and Australian English spelling and slang have been used in this book.
Editing by Maxann Dobson, The Polished Pen http://polished-pen.com/
Cover Art courtesy of Okay Creations http://okaycreations.com
Cover photo courtesy of Scott Hoover Photography http://www.scotthooverphotography.com
In conjunction with Love N Books http://lovenbooks.com
Cover model is Colby Lefebvre https://www.facebook.com/colbylmodel
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Epilogue
To Tammy.
This book wouldn’t exist without you.
Thank you for standing beside me on Casey’s journey.
I woke to a hot, wet tongue stroking my cock with enthusiasm. It had been too long, weeks maybe, since I had the time for this kind of outlet. My groan was loud and deep. I felt the girl behind the busy mouth smile around my erection. She was good and she knew it.
I opened eyes bleary from a wild night and watched her work me over. My breathing got heavier and my hips thrust upward, plunging deep inside her willing mouth. She responded in kind, swirling her tongue and sucking harder. Hazel eyes glanced up at me, gauging my reaction.
Bingo, I thought when her name came to me. I gave her a lusty grin. “Morning, Morgan.”
Her mouth popped off and her eyes brightened. “Morning, Casey.” Her raspy voice indicated her booze consumption last night had been just as excessive as mine.
She sat up on her knees, her perky tits bouncing as she grabbed me with both hands. My cock flinched at her iron grip, but it cleared my head long enough to remember just who Morgan was.
Ah shit.
The Florence Bar. Vodka shots. Mitch Valentine introducing me to the newly appointed detective in the cybercrime division over at Sydney City Police. We had a policy at our firm: no fucking any female from any government agency we had a working relationship with. Morgan being in my bed had fucking disaster written all over it, pun intended.
Then I thought about that worn file in the locked drawer of my office. I had questions—ones that Mitch informed me on numerous occasions he wasn’t able to answer. No one could, because all the information pertaining to the case had been wiped. All I had was an old case report that listed information I refused to believe was correct.
I needed answers. Real ones. So when Mitch introduced me to Morgan at the bar last night, I was just drunk enough to decide that maybe she could help. Morgan worked in cybercrime for fuck’s sake. They were a division notorious for closing ranks to outsiders, so when her eyes had flared wide with obvious interest, I knew just the way to get those answers. So what if it made me an asshole for using her. After too many years of getting nowhere, I had no other option and nothing else left to go on.
No new information.
No leads.
Nothing.
Looking up into Morgan’s face, I knew there was no other choice. She was a lead in retrieving the wiped information. It wasn’t like fucking a sexy girl was a hardship. I stretched out an arm and grabbed for a condom off my bedside table.
There’s always a choice, Casey.
Fuck off, I growled to the voice in my head. I held up the foil packet between my thumb and forefinger. For this, there is no choice.
Morgan stroked me a few more times with her iron grip. Waves of heat brought me to the edge, and I gritted my teeth as she let go and snatched it from my hand. Peeling it open, Morgan bit her bottom lip as she rolled it down my cock.
Breathing heavy, I watched her straddle me, positioning my head at her opening. Glancing at me, she paused. “Why me?”
“What?” She chose right this very moment, when I’m trying not to bust a fucking nut, to initiate a conversation? I fought against the urge to thrust upwards.
“Look at you, Casey.” Her eyes roamed over my face and chest with admiration, assuring me that she was indeed, looking at me. “You’re the guy that has it all. You could’ve had anyone in that bar, male or female. Why me?”
The guy that had it all? Jesus.
Was that all she cared about—that she was fucking someone she thought was hot and loaded? I hated superficiality, but she would likely hate the truth more. Why her? Because I was drunk, and when I left the bar, not only was she the nearest female willing to leave with me, she was also someone who could do something for me.
“Casey?” My eyes flicked from her well-endowed chest back to her face, and in that instant I felt hollow. I saw the love my best friend, Travis, had for his wife, Quinn. I watched how every touch between the two brought a light to their eyes. They put each other’s happiness before their own. They mattered to each other.
I wanted that.
I gave myself a mental slap.
Remember the file, Casey.
“Why you?” I repeated. Grabbing her hips in a grip that would no doubt bruise, I thrust up and into her body, and I hated myself for it. She cried out, and I couldn’t help the growl of pleasure when she clenched around me, squeezing me. “Because I like a girl who knows what she wants and goes for it.”
At least that was the truth. She saw me at the bar, she wanted me, and she went for it.
Morgan’s head lolled backwards and she moaned. Assuming I’d supplied a satisfactory answer to her ill-timed question, I rolled her over and ground my hips into her body.
“Harder,” she ordered.
I’d barely got my cock inside her and already she wanted to go balls to the wall? Give a guy a chance to find his rhythm for fuck’s sake.
“
Bossy bitch,” I muttered and pulling out to the tip, I thrust in again—hard.
“Oh yes,” she breathed. Her hands slid over my shoulders and down my back. I felt the sharp sting of fingernails scratching over my ass cheeks as she grabbed at me.
“You draw blood and I’ll spank you so fucking hard you’ll see stars,” I warned.
Her eyes lit up and her nails dug in harder. Jesus, this bitch liked it rough. I would’ve tied her up if I’d known, save getting my skin shredded.
My phone rang.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I snarled, hearing the work ringtone on my first day off in three weeks.
The noisy, persistent shrill overtook the harsh sound of heavy breathing and the sound of skin slapping on skin as I rammed myself inside her, just how she said she wanted it.
“Don’t answer it,” she panted.
I thrust in once more. Damn it. I was so close. “It’s work.”
Reaching for the phone, I hit answer and put it to my ear. “Casey,” I barked irritably.
Maybe I could get Morgan off before I wrapped up the call. I pumped my hips in short, sharp bursts and she cried out beneath me. I put a finger to my lips, silently shushing her as Travis replied in my ear, “Casey. You’re up.”
I bit back a groan as Morgan came, her walls contracting around my cock. “Yeah, I am. In more ways than one.”
“Thanks for the visual. We’ve been called out on a job. Shake a leg.” His voice might’ve been muffled, but the urgent tone came through loud and clear. “I’ll message the location.”
Shit. Well at least one of us managed to get off.
“On my way,” I replied and hung up.
I pulled out with a regretful growl and a cock still hard and aching for release. Ignoring it for now, I moved off the bed. Morgan rolled to her side, her lips forming a pout as she watched me peel the condom off. In a hurry, I tossed it on the floor with a grimace and grabbed a pair of jeans off the corner chair.
“Sorry, Morgan.” I tugged them over my legs and yanked up the zipper. Half dressed, I leaned over the bed and slapped her on the rump. “Up you get.”
“Nice,” I heard her mutter. A bit louder, she said, “You want to try this again later?”
“Sure,” I replied casually, my tone suggesting there was no way I wanted to try this with her again ever. Even if I wanted to, I had a barbecue to go to tomorrow at a friend’s house and security detail for the well-known band Jamieson later that night.
The file, idiot!
I swiped a hand across my face. Feeling like a two-bit whore, I turned and tossed my phone at her while she was scooting off the bed. “Put your number in there. I’ll call you when I wrap this shit up, okay?”
She grinned, her look victorious. I turned my back on it. Reaching for a shirt, I yanked it down my chest while she tapped in her contact details. Wallet, keys, and phone all went in my pockets while she was still at the stage of putting on her bra. I vaguely remember thinking her underwear sexy last night, but in the cold light of day, the tiny scraps of red lace did nothing.
Leaning in, I brushed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I have to go. Let yourself out?”
An hour later and I was crouched behind a large rock alongside Travis—both of us locked in position so our cover wouldn’t be blown. My shirt was damp with sweat and I was itching to peel it off and feel a cool breeze on my skin.
“You dragged me away from sex, on my day off, for this shit?” I bitched. “Have I told you that I really don’t like you right now?”
The day was overcast and the humidity was not only sapping away the last of my remaining energy, it was increasing the desire to strangle Travis until his eyeballs popped from his head—which I planned to do, just as soon as our target was acquired, taken down, and I’d stretched out the cramps in my legs.
“Have I told you that you’re acting like a little bitch?” Travis countered.
I risked a glance sideways. Travis had his blond hair tied off his face. Arms up, gun cocked, he tilted his head to the side, bright green eyes flat as he tracked our target through his viewfinder. I knew without a doubt when he pulled the trigger he would find his mark. Travis was just that guy, the one who did whatever it took to have your back.
He’d had mine from the moment we met in our first year at Charles Sturt University. I took him down in an illegal high tackle in rugby league tryouts. Shoving me off, he growled a curse and threw a punch that would’ve rendered a lesser man unconscious. Not me though. I came from a background where crippling blows were the accepted form of communication. I could’ve taken it ten times over if I had to, but Travis wasn’t looking to go another ten rounds. He’d simply held out a hand and hauled me to my feet. A slap on the back, a beer at the university’s pub, and we were friends.
That was a defining moment in my life—meeting Travis Valentine—because just under a year later I almost died. God knows I should have. If Travis hadn’t had my back, I would have. I’d wanted to.
Why? Because I’d made a promise I failed to deliver on. That didn’t seem so bad, I know. Promises were made to be broken, right? Wrong. Not when breaking them meant you failed so fucking bad, you lost your entire world in the blink of an eye.
No words could ever encompass the magnitude of what that felt like. It was like you were somehow still breathing even though your heart wasn’t beating anymore. It was like becoming a whole other person you didn’t know. It was like losing yourself, and when you lost yourself, there was no coming back.
I was at the Coogee Bay Hotel on summer break from uni when it hit me that I didn’t have to try and come back. I didn’t have to pretend I was okay. I didn’t have to live through losing everything. I didn’t have to fight anymore.
The sudden realisation was a relief, and surrounded by friends at our table, I simply stood up and walked out. The bottle of booze in my hand slipped to the ground outside. Beer sprayed everywhere, glass shattering and skidding across the ground. Tripping over, I fell on the broken shards, but I was so fucked-up I didn’t even notice.
“Come on, Casey. Up you get.”
A hand gripped my bicep and I looked up. There was Travis, once again hauling me to my feet. I wanted to tell him to let go, just this once, because I didn’t want to get up again, and I was okay with that.
“Travis,” I slurred. Shrugging off his arm, I staggered to my feet and grabbed the beer out of his hand. I saluted him with it. “To the best friend a useless fuck like me could ever ask for.”
Two girls walked by on their way inside. Bracing my arm against the wall, my eyes fell on girl number two. Long, wild red hair, miles of leg, and a full, curvy body showcased in a tight, black dress.
Looking me over, she smiled at me as they passed, but it slipped off her face when my hand gave out and I lurched sideways into the wall. They disappeared inside.
“Christ, Casey,” Travis muttered, grabbing for his beer. “Haven’t you had enough?”
I looked him in the eye. “You’re right, Travis.” Just like you always are. “I have had enough.”
Panic flooded his eyes at my definitive tone. I hated letting him down. Travis had thought time out from classes, hanging by the beach and surfing, would be some kind of bullshit rejuvenation. It was nice getting away from everything. It was nice having a best friend as well, but not if it meant failing him too.
“No, Casey.” Travis shook his head. “No.”
“I tried. I fucking tried, but I can’t do this, Trav. There’s nothing there, and I’m tired of pretending there is.”
“Fuck.” Travis reached out and when I shoved him back, he stumbled. “You can’t—”
Spying the beach across the road, waves crashing heavily in the dark night, I cut him off. “I’m sorry.”
Travis made another grab for me, but even as fucked up as I was, I was too quick. I jogged across the road, my eyes focused on the water and nothing else. The ocean was rough and wild. If alcohol couldn’t smother my demons, I’d drown them i
n the pounding waves.
“Casey!” Travis yelled from behind me but I didn’t stop.
Gasping for air, I reached the shoreline and tripped in the wet sand. I went down hard and cold water gushed over my body, numbing me.
Fuck yeah. Now that’s what I’m talking about.
I clawed my way in further.
Arms grabbed my waist and yanked me backwards. Travis staggered and we both went down. I tried struggling from his hold, but his grip was anchor tight.
“Why can’t you leave me the fuck alone?” I shouted.
“Because if you go in there, you’ll drown!” he yelled back.
“That’s the point.” I closed my eyes and swallowed. “Can’t live like this anymore, Trav. I just can’t.”
“You can,” he replied hoarsely.
“Give me one fucking reason why I can.”
Please. I need something.
“Because there are kids out there right now who need you, you selfish prick! Do you want to see them go through what you went through, or do you want to make your life count for something? You can give them something you never had. You can give them hope. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”
I exhaled heavily. “I’m just one person, Trav. What the fuck can I do?”
“You’re not just one person because you have me. I’m your family now.” His breath was harsh in my ear from the exertion, but I believed him. He was my family now. He was all I had. You would think that was too much pressure for one person, but Travis was rock solid. He always had been. “Just promise me you’ll try, okay? I need you to promise.”
The bastard. After what happened last time, he knew I’d never break another promise as long as I lived. Slumped against Travis in the sand, I stared up at the stars as water flowed around our legs, and I promised.
From that day on, I got out of bed every day, because I’d promised. I went to lectures and I ate when I was supposed to, and I dated girls, because I’d promised. I graduated with a dual degree in policing and psychology, and I moved back to Sydney with Travis, because I’d promised.