He opened his eyes in time to see Nina coming too, and he certainly didn’t regret that. Her moans were short, sharp little things that rose to a crescendo, her body shuddering, her fingers still working that greedy little pussy. “James,” she whispered, just for him, and the sound of it was a drug.
He’d never stood a fucking chance.
Chapter Five
“We’ve created an incident, Ms. Chapman,” the strawberry-blonde copper droned. Airey, he’d said his name was—not that James cared. The man had spent the last half hour asking Nina pointless questions that verged on rude and scribbling down her answers with a sceptical air. “Someone will be in touch about any further developments.”
James had kept his mouth shut throughout the whole, infuriating morning, but he wasn’t a fucking saint. He couldn’t let a complete dismissal slide. “Any further developments? This is an active threat. She was doxed yesterday, regardless of the fact that they got the wrong address. They know where she’s from. She’s receiving hate right now.”
The officer arched one pale brow, as if James had spoken nonsense instead of laying out facts. “Ms. Chapman has made it clear that, upon investigation, the address shared as hers was incorrect. Therefore, she was not doxed. We can’t just click our fingers and stop online harassment. There are procedures to be followed. In the meantime, have you tried blocking the perpetrators?”
James stared. “Have we tried. Blocking. The people. Who send. Death threats?”
Nina’s hand came to rest on his arm. “James—”
“Are you serious? That’s a question you’re seriously asking?”
The policeman’s expression hardened. “Please mind your tone when you speak to me, sir.”
James gritted his teeth and ignored the sly inflection. “A young woman comes in here fearing for her life, and you talk to her like a robot. No reassurances, no concern for her safety, nothing but taking notes and handing out incident numbers. And you want to talk about my tone?”
“James, that’s enough.” Nina shot to her feet, her chair scraping against the floor with a sound that rattled through the station. “I’m sorry, PC Airey. Thank you very much for your time.”
James took a deep breath, closed his eyes for the barest second—just long enough to regain his control. He seemed incapable of holding it for long, when it came to this woman. But he had to try.
Especially after failing so epically last night.
“Right,” he said, standing up. “Apologies.” If the word sounded more like a knife than a genuine statement, that couldn’t be helped. What a load of bastards.
He caught Nina’s hand, though he wasn’t sure why—to comfort her, or to soothe himself? Maybe both. It was odd that her touch should still calm him, when in certain contexts it could drive him out of his mind, but he’d learned that that sort of duality was part and parcel of being in love with her. Today, he’d learned another aspect of being in love with Nina: it meant that he lost his fucking temper when people looked down on her. Lost his temper, as in, briefly considered throwing a chair at a police officer’s head.
“Well,” he burst out as they left the building. “That was a waste of time.”
“Told you,” she said mildly. She hadn’t let go of his hand. She was swinging it gently, like they were children, and the Nina Neuroses that ran constantly in the background of his mind wanted to know: Does that mean she’s forgotten all about the other night, is she really unaffected, does sex really mean—no, does sex with me really mean nothing to her, and why am I wondering about this when I already know the answer, and why the hell did I—
He turned away from the voice. Considering his current fury, it wasn’t hard. “They didn’t even care.”
“I know.”
“And why the fuck did they keep bringing up your record?” He rubbed a free hand over his beard and scowled at the police department logo imprinted into the paving stones in front of them. “What possible relevance could that have?”
“James—”
“It’s not like you’re a fucking murderer! It’s not like you run around assaulting old ladies! So you tied yourself to a few trees—”
“James.”
“So you obstructed some traffic—”
“James! You’re shouting.”
“I…” He came back to himself, feeling as surprised as Nina looked by his outburst. Slowly, James looked around to discover they were still standing in front of the police station, passers-by gawking at the huge black guy shouting himself senseless. As he made eye contact with each one, the watchers shook themselves and hurried off about their business. Which, considering James’s present mood, was probably wise of them.
“Come on,” Nina said firmly. She tightened her grip on his hand, dragging him down the street until they came to the area’s little park. Daffodils stood to attention in cheerful clumps about the grass, children playing on the climbing frame metres away. James took a breath of spring-scented air and let Nina shove him on to a bench.
“Now,” she said, plonking herself beside him. “Do we really need to have a conversation about why you should not lose your temper in a police station, James?”
He sighed. “No.”
“Would you like to explain why you recklessly put yourself at risk over my feelings?”
Because your feelings mean the world. He sat down beside her, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “I didn’t think.”
“Clearly fucking not. Do you see yourself? Better yet, do you know how they see you?”
“Yes.”
“As a threat,” she snapped, as if he hadn’t spoken.
He turned to face her. “Nina. Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
She nodded stiffly. He heard her swallow.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m sorry. Come here.”
She let him pull her closer—maybe a little too close, with her thigh pressed against his, and his arm around her shoulders. But fuck it. Now they were sitting like this, he could feel her shaking. She needed him.
He needed her, too.
James sat back against the bench, pulling her impossibly closer, and watched the birds hop across the dewy grass. When Nina snuggled into him, her hand resting against his belly, he told himself that she was seeking shelter from the cool morning breeze. That was all.
He’d had a moment of wild hope yesterday, when they’d talked about that first, forbidden time between them. He’d thought that she might hear the subtext in his awkward speech and tell him that it was okay, that things between them were different, that being with him had meant something.
But she hadn’t said any of those things, because she wasn’t a liar.
He swallowed his disappointment for what felt like the thousandth time and tried to enjoy what he had: Nina. Her friendship. Her presence.
The memories of her moaning for you last night.
No. Not that. That was off-limits if he wanted to maintain his sanity.
As if she sensed his disquiet, Nina straightened with sudden energy, narrowing her eyes in his direction. “You know what we need?”