Page 110 of Triggered By Love
He raised an eyebrow. “What about?”
“Since we’re partners, I guess it means I tell you everything. You promise to tell me what you find out?”
“Promise.” He pulled against the ties binding his hands. “I’d give you a pinkie promise if I could.”
“You’re cute.”
“Ah, that’s not fair. I’m nothing close to cute. You’re delaying. What were you talking to Larry about?”
“My schedule is packed this week. I wanted to postpone the private show until next week.”
“Makes sense.”
“He won’t do it. We’re still on.”
“Where?”
“At his Upper East Side penthouse. I’m sorry to drag you into this, but I can’t trust anyone else to do exactly what I tell them to.”
“And you think I will comply?”
“After that performance, yes.” She lay down on him, so that she was flat against his chest, feeling the latent heat and power. “I tried to get out of it. Maybe I can say I’m sick. One year, I came down with the stomach flu, and I never had to make it up. Orson is a germaphobe.”
“I don’t want you to get out of it,” he said, surprising her. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“You don’t even know how to model.”
His tilted his head to snuggle against her, but without the use of his hands, he couldn’t position her for kissing or anything else.
“I don’t give a rip about the modeling part,” he said. “I want to get into Leach’s penthouse and investigate.”
She laughed. “I don’t think you’ll have much of an opportunity. I’ll have you on a leash.”
“What kind of kinky show are you putting on?”
She dotted her index finger over his lips. “Promise to do everything I ask you to do.”
“Do I have to strip?”
“Not telling. Just promise.” A glow of boldness strengthened her, and she flexed her muscles, taking a resolute breath. What if she let Jason know the worst? It would be the ultimate test. See if he was a fair-weathered lover, or he’d truly stick to her—no matter what. She watched his expression to see if he’d flinch. “Promise me.”
He stared at her for a long moment, and she could tell he was running scenarios through his mind. He wasn’t born yesterday, and he was a cop. For sure, he’d seen the crime scenes and the horrible things humans did to each other.
“As long as you’re not hurt or injured,” he said.
“Uh-uh. No conditions, Jase. Promise me anything.”
He nodded stiffly, getting it. It was a test of faith, of belief, and mostly, of trust.
“I promise.”
She grasped his face and kissed him hard, but he barely returned the kiss, so she backed off.
It was his turn to interrogate, and she could sense him turning the tables on her.
“Who did the show with you last year? Brando?” He was in full-on detective mode, despite being half-naked, post-orgasmic, and sinfully hot as Hades.
“He did it as a favor for me.” Her voice was flat and constricted. It was one of the worst things she did putting Brando into that horrid situation.
