Switch Master: 6 (Ink and Kink) (4 page)

“If you say yes, I will move heaven and earth to prove I’m
worthy of you.” Placing a whole lot of faith on her answer, Taran hoped she
didn’t break his heart. “You should know I’m difficult as hell and I’m not
intimidated by your bad-cop routine.”

“I saw the hero in you the first time I laid eyes on you at
the precinct.”

“Is that a yes, Samantha?”

“It’s a yes…but not right now.” She reached out, brushing
her fingers through his damp hair to smooth it back.

“Because of Luke,” he said, realizing that she was right to
hold off.

“Yes, and I need some time to think. Please?”

“The right to say yay or nay is always in your court.”

“It’s important that I hire a lawyer for Luke. He’s
desperate and I’m afraid he’ll run away. If he does, he’ll lose his aunt, his
sisters.”

“He has a lawyer.”

“He has no money, Taran. I’ll pay his legal fees.”

“We already talked about this. If you like this kid, I’ll
help him, no questions asked.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, her concern for Luke very real.
Strangely, he’d never heard of the kid before, but he obviously meant something
to Samantha. Whenever she said his name, her voice became softer, maternal.

“I’m positive, doll. The only payment I need from you is a
smile.”

“A smile?” she repeated.

“Please, whenever you speak of Luke, you kind of smile. I
want to see the real one,” he answered and she gave in, smiling softly, the
kindness she tried so hard to hide from coworkers and those she didn’t know
coming to life. “That’ll do, baby, that’ll do.”

“I’ve told him all about you,” she said in turn. “He’s a
good kid. Luke simply needs a chance and he’d like to meet you tonight at
eight.”

“Then we better get going instead of making out,” he said,
although making out was fun.

“You started it,” she pointed out, still grinning as she
drew away.

Samantha dusted her hands down the front and sides of her
faded blue jeans and turned back to the wall she’d been studying. Her jeans
were nice, tight and hugged curves he wanted to lick, bite and suck until his
love marks were as indelible as tattoo ink.

She wore a black tee shirt with the slogan
Slam Bam,
Thank You, Sam,
in day-glow pink lettering and a pair of roller skates
outlined in fancy pink glitter. He glanced down at himself. Glitter dusted his
chest.

How he’d missed the day-glow pink glitter, he’d no idea. He
could only say he’d been looking at her, learning about her in the process and
hadn’t bothered looking at her clothes.

“Um, Samantha, what’s the deal with the tee shirt? Did you
buy stock in a craft and hobby store?”

“I’d hoped to tell you en-route to Framingham,” she
answered, glancing back over her shoulder.

“Tell me now. Why Slam Bam, Thank you, Sam?” he asked.

“It’s a play on my pseudonym, Slam Bam Sam, and ‘wham bam,
thank you, ma’am’.”

“Kind of got that part,” he said with an emphasis on kind
of.

Still curious, he started off toward his closet, stopping in
midstride to look at the roller skates. Within all the sparkles were the words
Femme Fatales.

“What have you been doing the last few weeks?”

“To be accurate, for a couple months now, I’ve gotten into
roller derby.”

Hell yes, roller derby, as in women in hot pants or short
skirts and roller skates and girl-on-girl action, roller derby? That was enough
to get his erection tent-pole hard. Not that he’d softened much since she’d
walked into the bathroom.

“Roller derby?”

“It’s not naked mud wrestling, pretty boy,” she answered,
smirking. Smirking was cute on her.

“I never mentioned naked mud wrestling.”

“You were looking at me as if you’ve had fantasies about two
women rolling around together.”

“Guilty as charged. Hey, I’m a guy. What can I say?”

“You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

“I’ve never rolled around in the mud. We’re supposed to
leave, remember?”

Bold as she pleased, she faced him, crossing her arms over
her chest. Short of picking her up and carrying her caveman-style out of his
office, she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Answer the question. Have you had sex with two women at
once?”

Busted! “Am I going to sleep on the couch tonight?”

“I never said we’d have sex tonight.”

“Tonight, you’re coming home with me, doll,” he countered,
loving the play-by-play they were exchanging.

“I’m driving to the roller rink.”

“Want to bet?” At least he’d diverted her from her question
about other women.

“I’m driving. Go get dressed.”

“Thumb wrestle for it?

“Okay,” she agreed.

Taran moved in very close, offering his hand for the thumb
wrestling match. She relaxed her arms, placing her hand in his trustingly. They
made the adjustments, counted it off and for a second she had the advantage.

Recalling his technique as the Maddox brother champion thumb
wrestler, he outmaneuvered her right when she foolishly thought she’d won. In a
flash he pinned her.

“Sorry, doll. I never lose if I don’t want to.”

“Okay, you drive. It doesn’t mean I’ll fall into bed with
you tonight. Nor does it get you out of confessing your dirty deeds with the
ladies.”

“Samantha, it’s really best not to know.”

“Which means you’ve gotten jiggy with two at once,” she
concluded.

“Since when does a detective use the word ‘jiggy’?”

“Since you came into my life and turned my world upside down
with your undeniable charm. Told you, I get mushy inside when you look at me.”

“Thought it was gooey,” he countered.

“Same thing,” she remarked, waving off the comment.

Laughing softly, Taran couldn’t remember when he’d been
happier. “All right, a few times in college there were wild sex parties. If you
want names and dates, I’m afraid I can’t give that.”

“Why?”

“Had a lot to do with beer pong tournaments,” he admitted.
“When you wake up in a pile of women, you hope everyone had a good time and are
relieved to see a stash of used condoms.”

“Okay, that’s too much information for me.”

“Don’t get mad. You wanted to know.”

“Still TMI,” she insisted, yet she was fighting hard not to
laugh. He liked the lighter side of Detective Samantha Riley.

“Guess I’ll get dressed then.”

“You have to let go of my hand first.”

Looking down, he noticed her thumb remained tucked beneath
his. Brushing his thumb across hers, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed
her knuckles. Letting go, he watched her flush and turn away.

“Ethan told me awhile ago that you went to Boston College,”
she said.

“Yes, for both undergrad and law school,” he explained,
resuming his walk to his closet.

Inside, he’d stored a few things he liked to keep at the
office. A couple suits, ties, dress shirts, socks and shoes for court and clean
underwear, jeans and tee shirts on the chance he’d have to work late or open
the shop downstairs.

He’d hired two full-time tattooists and a counter girl to
take appointments and ease his workload. Ethan came in twice a week and Phalen
did on Saturday afternoons.

Frequently, Phalen and Cassie would come to the brownstone
for Saturday-night dinner. Along with Ethan and Morgan, and their dog Guinness,
it was a great time to sit around and talk, practice new music for the Maddox
Brothers band and be with family.

From now on, he sure hoped to have Samantha sitting next to
him at the Saturday-night feasts. She was family. She should be there.

Grabbing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved gray tee shirt
from the closet, he dressed quickly. Inside the closet, he’d stowed a small
two-drawer dresser, having to bend at the waist to retrieve socks.

Feeling like he was being watched, he straightened and
turned around fast, catching Samantha staring at his ass.

“You’re not helping matters by staring.”

“That proves you like when I stare,” she stated, pointing to
his erection. Boxer shorts and an unzipped fly hid nothing.

Being careful, he zipped up. “I love it. But I’m starting to
ache here, get my problem? Later, you can look and touch all you want. Turn
around and behave.”

“If I don’t, would you punish me?” Her smile dimmed, her
shoulders slumping some, warning that she was retreating until she caught
herself and lifted her chin defiantly.

“No,” he countered a little stronger than he’d intended.
“Take punishment out of your vocabulary with me.”

“What word is more appropriate?”

“Discipline and you’re close to experiencing it firsthand.”

Swinging around to face the wall, she didn’t test him
further. To avoid further trouble, he thought about the least sexy things he
could, cold showers and tort law, his erection softening enough for him to
search out a pair of combat boots.

“You were captain of the debate club in high school?”
Samantha asked, perhaps to return them to a sense of normalcy or equal footing.

Selecting a black leather coat very similar to Samantha’s,
Taran took it, his socks and his boots across the room and placed everything
but the socks on his desk.

“I was captain in the eleventh and twelfth grade. Ninth and
tenth, I was on an academic team. We competed with other high schools around
New England. I was the expert in social sciences.”

“Wow, not many ninth and tenth graders care about those
subjects.”

“Growing up in Massachusetts, I was fascinated by all things
regarding colonial and revolutionary history, the Magna Carta, judicial and
constitutional law.”

Samantha looked back at him. “You were a brain.”

“I was valedictorian of my senior class. That surprises
you?”

“A little, I’m sorry. You’re an enigma.”

“It’s okay. I was a lot of things in high school, jock,
brain, you name it.”

“And a bad boy, I bet.”

“There were times when I made my parents want to pull their
hair out. After they died, I didn’t make it easy on Phalen and Ethan either. I
was fifteen and wanted to prove I was every bit the Maddox they were.”

“You were dealing with the loss of your parents and trying
to find out who you were at the same time.”

“That’s true. Despite the rebellion, I garnered full
academic and athletic scholarships.”

“What was your sport?”

“Lacrosse,” he answered.

“Did you always know you wanted to be a lawyer?”

“Pretty much, it was law or politics.”

“I’m glad you didn’t become a politician. Your brothers are
proud of you, Taran,” Samantha said.

“I know. I’m proud of them for all they’ve achieved.”

“Your parents are too. Ethan told me about a dream he’d had
when he’d been shot.”

“My mama talked to him, made sure we knew our parents are
watching over us.”

“I believe it. It’s good that you do.”

“It’s my hope that I make you proud,” he admitted.

“There’s not a day that goes by when I’m not,” she said so
honestly that his heart slammed. “That’s why I told Luke about you.”

“Then let’s get moving.”

Hurrying up, he sat down in his chair to put his socks and
boots on. Samantha picked up her coat from the back of his chair and shrugged
it on. He’d have liked to assist her but she was already backpeddling toward
the office door.

Opening the desk drawer for his truck keys and his phone, he
stood up, put his coat on, stuck the phone in his pocket and met her in the
hall. Her department-issued cruiser was parked next to his Ford-150 and he led
her to the truck.

Helping her up into the passenger side, he snapped her
seatbelt in place and closed the door. He was in the driver’s side and buckling
up when he realized she was stunned silent.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“You buckled my seatbelt. That was nice.”

“My job as your lover is to take care of you, even in the
simplest of things.”

“We’re not lovers yet.”

“We’ve been dreaming about each other since last April.
Don’t you think it’s time to stop masturbating and start fucking?”

Samantha didn’t answer at first. She waited until he turned
on the engine, got the cab warmed up and backed out of his spot.

It was an early Friday night in late February and the air
felt and smelled distinctly of snow. There was a good chance they’d have a
couple of inches of snowfall by morning.

“Taran?”

“Yeah, doll?”

“If we become lovers, please don’t hurt me.”

“I’d never cause you any pain,” he assured.

“I’m not talking about that.”

“You’re nervous. There’s no need to be.”

“I’m all wrong for you. Once you realize it, I’m afraid
you’ll leave.”

“When you realize I’m your Mr. Right, you’re going to fall
in love with me.”

“Never let it be said that Taran Maddox isn’t confident.”

“I have to be. Ever try growing up in Phalen and Ethan’s
shadows?”

“Phalen and Ethan have their strengths and their weaknesses.
Fortunately, Cassie and Morgan know what they are and can handle them.”

“I adore their wives. They’re amazing and strong. I can’t
wait to be an uncle two times over.”

“You’ll be a great uncle. Just remember you’re every bit a
Maddox as they are.”

“Can I hold your hand?” he asked, remembering to invite not
command. A second later, she trustingly laid her hand in his and he grasped her
fingers.

“Thank you,” he said, bringing her hand across to his lap
and resting it there.

If Samantha could trust him with something as simple as
handholding, he could avoid the temptation of moving her hand a little to the
left or think about how she’d look all dolled up for roller derby.

His cock stirred, taunting him. Okay, thinking about the
roller derby thing wasn’t a good idea. Nope, not going to go there with the
girl-on-girl action, he was going to drive and hold her hand and be the nice
guy she needed him to be. Later tonight, all bets were off.