Toeing the Line (The Complete Serial) Read online

  “Oh.” She dropped her hand and stepped away. “I think you’ve got it. Want to try taking a shot?”

  “Not really. You show me how.”

  He shouldn’t have said that. It was going to be tough enough to get things back to normal between them. Now a secret that really only needed to haunt him was trying to force its way out. She knew he’d been on the front line overseas, but for the most part, they never talked about the details. He tended to change the subject, and she never pushed.

  She racked up the balls and set the cue ball a few feet back. The way she moved was flawless, as she slid into the correct posture and lined up her angle. She knocked off her shot, and colored balls scattered across the table to bounce off rubber bumpers. Three of them slid into pockets.

  At least he knew she’d kick his ass. It almost took the edge off. Zane snorted. “That was the equivalent of showing me a scribble next to a Rembrandt, then telling me to just add shading, to make one into the other.” He dropped his stick on the table. “We should go back to the air hockey.”

  “You’re overthinking it.” She maneuvered next to him and put the cue back in his hand. “Relax, and just take your shot.” She grabbed the white ball from where it had landed, inches from a pocket, and set it back in the center of the table.

  She stood close enough he felt her heat and smelled the sharp tang of cherry. He tried to ignore his body’s response, as he bent at the waist. “It’s war, right? Things happen.” Great. She was within pin-her-to-the-wall-and-kiss-her-until-they-couldn’t-breathe proximity, and he was talking about his demons. Rather than dwell on the past, he pushed the stick toward its target. The cue head bounced off the felt and jumped over the ball instead of hitting it.

  “Try again.”

  He sighed and repositioned himself. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so picky about the job. I don’t have any actual qualifications to do what I do. Not like real-world experience.” The words tasted foul. What the fuck was his problem?

  “Because what you did doesn’t count as experience? I mean I know you can’t give me specifics, but to keep you interested for so long, it had to be intense.”

  He’d tried to make the same point to the interviewer. Sort of. “That’s the problem. It’s not really the kind of thing I’m able to go into detail about. You know, they say, tell me about a time you solved a really big problem that saved an employer money. I’m not exactly allowed to share those kinds of details, so when I say, I did some stuff with computers, and it was really high-end, I promise, the claim is a bit hard to swallow.”

  He held up the cue in frustration. “Are you going to show me how to do this right, or not?”

  “Fine.” She let out a mock sigh. Moving next to him again, she positioned his left hand properly. She settled her right arm against his and rested her chest against his back. She pressed her cheek against his bicep, helping him line up the cue. “I’d go on about angle and trajectory and all that, but for me it’s instinct.” She pulled back his arm and helped him take the shot.

  The balls scattered again, and three more slid into pockets. He had no idea what he’d just done. All he knew was how incredible she felt pressed against him. He dropped the cue but didn’t pull away.

  “You’ve gotten better,” she said

  “I tried to get a little practice in.” His hand settled under hers.

  He should move. Put some distance between them. Her heat seeped into all his senses, pushing past frustration and demons and awkwardness, and driving straight to his dick. Fuck. Riley had always been touchy-feely, but this pushed buttons he never realized he had.

  In a single motion, he twisted from her touch, spun, and grabbed her wrists before she could pull away. She locked her gaze on his—eyes wide and shocking blue. When she licked her bottom lip, any words he had evaporated, lost in his desire to dip in and taste her.

  “What’s wrong?” Though her question was soft, it stood out among all the background noise. Distinct and tempting.

  The few faint snatches of reason left in his head pointed out he didn’t want to go down this road with Riley. She deserved better than a hard-on-fueled fuck-fest in the back of his truck. She deserved better than him.

  He dragged the reminder to the front of his thoughts and forced his voice to remain firm. “I know we said the other day that what happened while I was gone is done and over—the past is in the past, sex ruins friendships, all that—so this is fair warning. You’re entirely too tempting to ignore, when you do things like press your body against me.”

  That should have been that. He expected her to pull away, maybe refuse to look him in the eye, and then they’d find a new comfortable middle ground.

  Instead, she shifted her weight, rubbing her frame against him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  There was no way she didn’t feel how hard he was, his cock digging into her hip. Impulse surged through him. The need to bend her over the pool table, regardless of how crowded the place was, pin her hands above her head, and drive inside her. “It is, if you meant what you said the other night.”

  She didn’t struggle against his grip, even when it tightened enough for his fingers to dig into her skin. A flush spread over her face, and her pupils dilated. “Do you really think the cyber stuff was a mistake?”

  He swallowed. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? “I never said that.”

  “You implied it.”

  He forced the gears in his brain to unstick—to push past her soft scent, her gentle curves, her skin against his. “Neither one of us wants to get attached,” he said.

  “I never said anything about getting attached.” The corner of her mouth pulled up in a mischievous smile, and she broke one hand away from him. She trailed down the chain around his neck, grasped his dog tags, and tugged lightly.

  “You don’t want to go down this road.”

  “I do. Tell me you’re not interested, and I’ll never mention it again. No hurt feelings.” Her lips hovered centimeters from his, obliterating reason.

  Pinning her down. Running his hands over her body. Experiencing in person the moans that drove him wild over the phone. If she were involved in a no-strings non-relationship with him, maybe she’d think harder about falling for the next doorknob that came along.

  Logic argued that didn’t make sense.

  He gagged logic and shoved it in a mental closet. “What about sex ruining friendship?”

  She hesitated, but her confidence flooded back quickly. “I promise it’s just sex, and so do you. I trust you, so if you say it, I’ll believe you.”

  Seemingly from nowhere, someone collided with Riley, and beer spilled over her top. Zane let go, as she gasped and jerked back, her hands flying up. The booze soaked her pale shirt, suctioning it to her body so it clung to every curve. Zane struggled to pull his gaze from her tight form, full breasts, and rigid nipples, visible through the lace of her bra.

  “Watch where you’re going.” A large man stood next to them. He slammed a mostly empty beer stein on the pool table, dribbles running over his clenched fist.

  Fury nudged Zane’s senses. Loudmouth had run into her, not the other way around.

  Riley flinched away, brow furrowed. “What the hell?” She shook her hands, and drops of beer splattered the floor around her.

  “Watch where you’re going, bitch.”

  Anger spurred Zane forward, powered by protective instinct, and unrequited lust. In an instant, he was nose-to-nose with the loud asshole. “Apologize.”

  “Fuck you.” Loudmouth pushed Zane’s shoulder. The stench of warm beer radiated from him. “Tell your bitch to watch where she’s going.”

  All conversation stopped around them. People turned to stare, and camera phones came out.

  “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.” Riley’s pleading voice was soft amid the growing murmurs.

  Zane didn’t like fighting, but there were some things a person just didn’t back do
wn from. Like seeing his friend blamed by a drunken jackass for something she didn’t do. He grabbed Loudmouth’s wrist and pulled it away from his own shoulder. In a single movement, he twisted and was behind Loudmouth, pulling the other man’s fingers toward the base of his neck. Zane applied enough pressure to convey he could do worse, but not enough to cause injury. “It is a big deal. He owes you a new shirt, but a genuine I’m sorry would be a good starting place.”

  Loudmouth growled and jerked away, breaking Zane’s grip on him. “Fucking asshole. I’m sorry your stupid girlfriend got in the way of my beer.” He tensed his shoulders, spread his feet shoulder-width apart, and brought his fists up in a boxing stance. He wavered in his stance before steadying himself.

  Zane kept his posture casual, staring back without flinching. If Loudmouth lunged, he’d find himself on the ground with a mouthful of carpet. Zane only partly hoped it would come to that. He made sure the anxiety of his hammering heart didn’t show in his movements. The seconds ticked away, seeming to stretch into eternity.

  “Asshole.” Loudmouth narrowed his eyes for a moment, and then turned toward the exit, grumbling under his breath.

  There was no need for Zane to go after the guy. All he wanted to do was diffuse the situation. As his adrenaline receded, the reassurance repeated in his head until he believed it.

  “Excuse me.” A firm voice jarred Zane from his brief meditation. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Zane eyed the bar employee, adrenaline still coursing through him. The guy was shorter by a couple of inches but bulkier, and the way his shirt stretched over his chest said he was muscular. Zane swallowed the resurge of instinct. He didn't want to start a fight; he’d already dispatched the threat.

  He shook his head, to clear out any residual argument, and wrapped an arm around Riley’s waist. “Right. Sorry about the floor.” He tossed a five on the table before leading her outside.

  Almost every gaze in the room followed their short path. The stench of greasy food and booze threatened to resummon Zane’s dinner. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last slice of pizza. They pushed outside, and the cool air washed over them.

  Chapter Six

  Riley should have been embarrassed, about what happened inside with the drunken asshole, or upset about being asked to leave or something. Instead, all she could focus on was whether or not she’d made a mistake suggesting no-strings sex with Zane. Her thoughts were still stuck on his cock digging into her, moments earlier. The dampness that pooled between her legs when he grabbed her wrists. Her desperate desire to find out how he kissed.

  Zane opened the passenger door of his truck and reached behind the seat. He grabbed a spare T-shirt and handed it to her. “I should take you home.”

  The dismissal nagged her, but she hid her disappointment. She had to resurrect this somehow. He was as interested as she was. If she could change out of her ruined top here, she didn’t need to go home. She dropped into the passenger seat. “Don’t move.”

  She reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, and his eyes grew wide.

  “Do you want me to turn around?” he asked.

  The flush was sexy, and the propriety was endearing. If he hadn’t already turned away, maybe he was still considering what she’d said. She let out a tiny laugh, trying for seductive but—she was pretty sure—coming off as nervous instead. “I said, don’t move. You’re my human curtain.”

  In a single fluid gesture, she managed to pull off her soaked shirt and bra and slip the new one on without completely exposing herself. As she poked her head through the top of the shirt, she caught a glimpse of him forcing his gaze from her chest back to her face.

  “That takes talent.” A tiny quaver ran through his voice.

  She ducked her head, feigning shyness. “Thank you for what you did in there.”

  He leaned against the frame of the truck, studying her. She couldn’t read the thoughts behind his eyes, but she could almost convince herself the worst thing she saw was uncertainty.

  He finally spoke. “Does this mean you don’t need to go home and change after all?”

  So she hadn’t completely ruined things. Relief flooded her. “Not yet. Did you have something in mind?”

  “Let’s drive and talk.”

  He closed her door, and seconds later, he was seated and pulling onto the road. However, he wasn’t talking. His gaze stayed fixed on the road, his hands on the steering wheel.

  Riley shifted in her seat. What should she say? She hadn’t planned to proposition him, but as the night wore on, the idea had climbed into her head and refused to budge. It made perfect sense. And when he all but laid out that ultimatum, she had to grab her chance.

  Though she was done falling for every guy she dated, and the best way to break the habit was to stay single, she still missed the sex that typically came with being half a couple. More than six months without a guy to cuddle up against, clothed or otherwise, left her with a longing that her toys didn’t sate.

  Zane made sense. He wasn’t looking for commitment, and they already knew so much about each other. Besides, she didn’t love him—not like that. In all the years they’d been friends, it would have reared its head long before now.

  She watched the road fade into the darkness, as his truck climbed farther away from the houses dotting the side of the mountain. They were on the east side of the valley, high above even the multi-million-dollar homes. The valley floor with its endless lights made the sky and its stars look like a reflection.

  They pulled onto the shoulder of a familiar dirt road. Riley didn’t know how many nights they’d spent on the side of the mountain, either wanting a view of the fireworks shows below or just plain talking.

  He shut off the engine and stared ahead, gripping the steering wheel. He finally turned to her. Something heavy and sad lingered behind his pale eyes. His smile was weak. “I hope this is okay.”

  “Of course.” Her fast reply sounded too loud—too chipper—to her ears.

  He climbed out. “You coming?”

  She scrambled to follow him to the back of the pickup. He dropped the tailgate and slid into the bed, back to the wall, one knee pulled up to his chest, and arm resting on top.

  She hid her frown. His posture wasn’t a good sign. There had been a time when they’d have lain down in the back of the truck to watch the stars, her head on his shoulder, and never thought anything of it. Now he looked as though he didn’t want her anywhere near him.

  They could talk through this. It would have been nice if he’d agreed to take things to the next level, but she’d said no hurt feelings if he wasn’t interested. She crawled into the truck bed opposite him and leaned forward, legs tucked to the side.

  “So, not that it’s a big deal…”

  Oh geez, she really had screwed up. “You know it sounds like a very big deal, right?”

  “I do.” He dropped his forehead onto his knee for a moment before looking at her again. “You wanted to know where I’d been for the last two years.”

  Her breath caught, and her pulse slowed. That was what this was about? “I was curious, but I figured top secret, right?”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “They’d like you to think so.”

  The conversation about no-string sex could wait. This felt infinitely more important than how she got off at the end of the night. “Now I’m extra curious.”

  “A couple of years ago, I got a new assignment. They wanted me doing some heavier surveillance. It was a huge challenge, so I jumped on it.”

  Of course he had,

  “They told me I was getting them into some really tough places. Networks most people couldn’t crack. Then they gave me someone new to report to.”

  “Okay…?” She wasn’t sure why it mattered.

  He ran his fingers over the stubble on his head. “We did this differently than I’d ever done surveillance before. The woman they had me working with was very good at it, and the entire idea was scary brilliant.”
/>   Riley forced back her wince at the unabashed compliment for another woman. “How so?”

  “You know how phishing and spoofing work, right?”

  She nodded. The recipient clicked on a link they thought was taking them to one place, and it took them to another instead, while capturing the associated login information.

  “This is spoofing meets psy-ops. She would interact with specific people online. Chatting, friendly shit—How’s the dog? Did you have a good vacation? —the kind of casual conversation you see everywhere. If she couldn’t get connect with someone online, she’d do it in person, posing as a waitress, whatever, for the target. She didn’t need anything critical from them, just the standard kind of stuff anyone might tell a stranger. How work’s going. How the kids are. Stuff like that.”

  “My job…” He paused, as if thinking how to best phrase what he’d say next. “My job was to send those people email. Spoof it and make it look like it was from someone they knew and trusted. A boss. A girlfriend. A daughter. I had to make the email completely real and passable, so no filters could tell it was from anyone other than who it should be from. The recipient clicked the link—I don’t know, social media, whatever—and it passed through a gateway that downloaded the tiniest little Trojan in history, and we had full access to their computer. They ended up where they thought they were going and never questioned it.”

  “Wow.” She was wary enough not to click those stupid links from strangers that said things like, guess what I just heard about you online, but never hesitated when the messages from her friends looked genuine.

  “Yeah.” He dragged out the word. “It wasn’t my job to look at where we were going, just to get us there and make sure we stayed.”

  Riley’s head spun with the information.

  “Except one night, things changed.”

  “What?”

  “She left me alone for the first time.”

  “Before that, you were together twenty-four, seven? Long stakeout?”

  He let out a dry laugh. “Something like that. I only figured out later, but it had a lot more to do with the fact that I wasn’t under the same watch restrictions as before.”