Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3) Page 21

  And all the while, Austin’s voice in her ear praised her, prolonging the bliss. “That’s it. Milk it so tight. Buck your hips back a little so I hit that clit…ahhh, that’s how we do it. Make me feel those little clenches in my sleep. Make me crave more of that pussy. All day.”

  The drain of tension was immense, but it didn’t last—not completely—because Austin hadn’t finished and she wanted him sated along with her. She pried his arms from around her body and dropped forward, bracing herself on the table and lifting her backside. “Take me, Austin. Use me.”

  “Never. Never, Polly.” He pinned her to the table with a swift ramming of his hips, a broken sound passing his lips. “But I can’t…I can’t come slowly like you did. Not yet. The pleasure…it’s new to me. I think it might always be new to me—and you gave me that. You’re the only one.” His lips brushed over her shoulder. “Tell me you understand that when I fuck you this hard, I’m cherishing you.”

  “I understand,” she gasped when Austin started to drive home. Over and over. The table rocked and creaked beneath her, sweat dripping from her forehead onto its surface, whimpers and cries of ecstasy filling the room. She reached orgasm once more before Austin yanked her hips back, ground himself against her bottom, and came with a shout of her name.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Austin and Polly walked down North Rush Street side by side, holding hands. He would never get used to that. If he ever got used to Polly wanting to hold his hand, he would convince her to leave him, because she didn’t deserve someone who would take her for granted. The words “I love you” sat on his tongue like a chocolate coin, still wrapped in foil. Such sweetness existed inside, but there was a metallic taste because now wasn’t the time for professions of devotion. Not when Polly needed to be prepared for the unexpected. He needed her to be prepared, because he couldn’t be actively involved. Sidelined while his own con played out. While the love of his life made a deal with the very devil.

  The Four Seasons got larger and brighter as they approached. Reitman would be inside by now, pretending to drink champagne, trading his full glass for an empty one every so often, staying sharp while everyone else’s senses dulled.

  They were arriving late on purpose. Making an entrance. It was risky considering they weren’t invited, but important people never showed up on time. And tonight, they were the biggest game in town. Bowen, Sera, and Henrik were waiting for them a block from the venue, ready to go, if quite grudgingly. He’d managed to tear himself away from Polly long enough this afternoon for a conference call with his squad mates, reviewing details one by one until each step could be repeated in their sleep.

  Some calls were made while Polly slept. He didn’t like having secrets between them, but in order for her to be convincing, they were necessary. He consoled himself with the personal vow that after tonight, he would never keep a single secret from her as long as he lived. Please God, let me have the opportunity to stick around and carry out that promise.

  Austin looked down at Polly, trying not to make it obvious that he was memorizing every one of her beautiful features. “Red hair suits you, sweet, but if you don’t mind, we’ll be burning that sodding wig later. I don’t like changing any part of you.”

  She tilted her head, peeking up at him from beneath her false eyelashes. “Now you know how I felt all those times.”

  “I suppose,” Austin said quickly, before he could profess his undying love. It was an amazing—amazing—thing to believe someone when they spoke, without question. He had that with Polly, which meant she truly didn’t like him being in disguise. She liked the man beneath, despite his past. Hell, despite his present. He was an unforgivable asshole and they both knew it, but she wanted him in spite of it. The list of what he wouldn’t do to protect that was blank.

  She deserved better. Total honesty. He couldn’t give her that just yet, but he could give her the closest thing, even though it might discolor him in her eyes. No, it would. There was no might about it. But he couldn’t let her go into tonight without a clear picture of the man on her team. Him. Before Polly, he hadn’t been a good man, and she needed to know the worst of it.

  Austin pulled Polly to a stop, just outside the glow cast by a streetlight. She rubbed her painted red lips together, looking up at him expectantly, but the damning words wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

  His atypical hesitation must have tipped her off that something bad was coming, because her shoulders sagged an inch. “What is it?”

  “Polly, I…you should know that Reitman is retaliating against me for a good reason. After I found out about Gemma in São Paulo and he took off with the money—”

  Alarm flared in her gaze. She lifted two fingers and placed them over his mouth, shaking her head. “Not now, Austin. Don’t do this right now.”

  She didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. What if he didn’t get another chance? He circled her wrist and tugged her hand away from his mouth. “It has to be now. You should know whose team you’re playing on.”

  “I do know.” Confidence laced her tone. “I know who you are. I’ve done some terrible things in the past, too. Taken what I can do at a keyboard and ruined lives with it, telling myself those people deserved their comeuppance for what they’d done. But one of those people could have been you. Or Bowen. Or Erin, Connor, Henrik. If I’d known who I was affecting, I would have thought twice.” She stepped closer, getting right in Austin’s face, making his heart boom like back-to-back explosions in his chest. “We are not the sum of our past deeds. There are gray areas and straight-up mistakes, but we can’t let them define us. Okay? Whatever you did won’t change what I know. And I know you.”

  “Oh God.” Austin dropped his forehead down to mesh with hers, rolling it side to side, absorbing warmth, strength. “Oh God. What are you doing with me? Why are you saving me like this?”

  “You know why,” Polly whispered, her voice carried away on the wind.

  He wanted to snatch the words back and immortalize them somehow, because they were as close as he ever expected to come to a declaration from Polly. The chocolate coin on his tongue grew heavier, but instead of unwrapping it the way he longed to do, he clutched her arms tight, so tight. “Listen to me. You go in there and do exactly as we planned. I will be there, even though you can’t see me.” He shook her a little. “Remember this.” Austin paused to make sure he had her attention. “I never go into a job unless I know for sure that I can win. Repeat that for me.”

  She nodded. “You never go into a job unless you know for sure you can win.”

  A man stepped out from between two parked cars, just behind Polly.

  “Neither do I.”

  Austin’s muscles tensed, preparing to throw Polly behind him. When the newcomer stepped into the light, showing Austin his identity, the tension didn’t ease, but his fear for Polly’s safety took a nosedive. His relief was so intense, it took him a moment to breathe again.

  Captain Derek Tyler. I’ve been expecting you.

  The captain joined them in the shadows, giving the sight of Austin embracing a redheaded Polly a speculative once-over. “Going somewhere?”

  I knew I was right never to underestimate him. “You must already have some idea, since one of your officers has been following us for five blocks,” Austin drawled. “Where do you think we’re going?”

  “I’m not here to answer your questions.”

  “In that case, we’re just out for a stroll.” Austin turned and tucked a bemused Polly into his side, massaging her hip in a silent signal to relax and trust him. “Just about to bring Polly home, in fact. Fingers crossed she’ll give me a good-night kiss at the door.”

  Derek’s expression remained stoic. “We both know I was aware of your connection to Reitman when I hired you, Shaw. It’s not a coincidence that he’s a block away at the Four Seasons right now.” The captain waited while that sank in—although it didn’t—because Austin had already been waiting on Derek’s intervention since the initia
l meeting regarding Reitman, well aware he was playing the clock. “One phone call and I can have an extradition warrant to arrest him. I already have uniforms outside the hotel. That would throw a wrench in your plans, wouldn’t it?” Plans he should have been made aware of—clearly that was the captain’s subtext.

  “You don’t want to give Reitman to another state for questioning, or you would have brought him in by now,” Polly said, hitting the ground running, even though she hadn’t been expecting Derek. “Nothing will stick to him. And then you’ll have lost your chance to punish him for breaching Chicago city limits.”

  Austin slapped a hand over his heart. “This woman.”

  Polly was silent a moment, cogs turning in her gorgeous head as she formed conclusions and filled in answers. She would have gotten there sooner, but she’d likely been too stunned in the squad meeting over Reitman to notice Derek’s behavior. “You gave Austin the case for a reason. You need us to get Reitman.”

  Derek lifted a dark eyebrow. “And you both needed me to stay out of prison. Cutting me out to settle some fucking vendetta isn’t an option.”

  “What would you like to know, Captain?” Austin asked slowly. “If you’re not putting the kibosh on our operation, am I correct in assuming you want in?”

  The captain nodded in Polly’s direction, smirking when Austin tightened his hold around her. “You’re not going along with this for Austin’s sake. You’ve got skin in the game, too.” A beat passed. “Reitman appears to be the one thing you two have in common. It took some digging since you erased your fathers’ financial records going back twenty years, Polly, but Reitman’s name was listed in the physical police report. Not everything is stored in a database.”

  “I don’t like the way you’re speaking to her,” Austin said, his voice cracking like a whip. He was showing a weakness—his feelings for Polly—when they needed a solid front, but protecting her came first. Apparently his protectiveness extended to her feelings. The idea of her aching on the inside was intolerable.

  Derek split a look between them, his cop mind working overtime. “Well played, Polly. Using Austin’s little crush on you to help settle a score.”

  “That is bullshit. You insult us both by suggesting it,” Polly responded, hitting Austin with a meaningful look. He knew what she was asking, so he gave a simple, stiff nod, trying not to acknowledge the tidal wave of insecurity spurred on by the captain’s claim. “This is for Austin as much as it is for me. Reitman is using his proximity to Austin’s daughter to bring Austin out of the woodwork.”

  Derek’s surprise was brief, but there nonetheless. Everything clicked into place on the captain’s face, like a blurry pond going perfectly still. “Gemma Klausky is your daughter,” he muttered, his attention on Austin. “I’m assuming you’re not close.”

  That statement hit his mark, not that Austin let it show. “No. But Reitman has already stolen a small fortune from her family. The least I can do is not let it happen again.”

  “Especially since you helped steal it the first time around. Am I right?” Derek tacked on, nodding when Polly stiffened against Austin’s side. “Right.”

  Derek checked his watch and returned his arm to his side, the movement stiff. “What was the desired outcome tonight?”

  It was obvious what Derek wanted to know. Were he and Polly planning on retaliating against Reitman by ending his life?

  Good question. Justified, too, considering they were a pair of ex-cons. Unfortunately, it was a question Austin didn’t have an answer for. Yet. Because Austin knew Charles Reitman better than anyone in the world. And there wasn’t a chance in hell of the man being taken alive.

  It would all come down to who pulled the trigger.

  “We get what we came for,” Austin answered, steel in his tone. “And you get your man. Beyond that, we’re not willing to share. I’m more than happy to take Polly home right now and call tonight a wash. It would be a dreadful waste of my genius, but I will endeavor to recover.”

  A tense silence passed, Chicago wind funneling down the sidewalk.

  “My officers will stand down, but they’ll be ready to move at a moment’s notice.” Derek grated, already unclipping the two-way radio from his belt. Relief lifted its head inside Austin—after all, additional protection for Polly tonight was why he’d intentionally allowed Derek to remain on their trail—but panic ensued at the captain’s next words. “But I’m sending over an officer to put a wire on Polly.”

  “Absolutely not,” Austin snapped. “You have no idea who we’re dealing with. If he sees or even suspects she’s not legit, he’ll…he could…”

  Polly pressed her lips to Austin’s cheek when he couldn’t continue. “He won’t. You have to trust me.”

  His instincts screamed for him to shoulder Polly and make for the closest train station. But he couldn’t. They were in it. Too late to turn back now. And part of him was glad he would be able to hear what took place, so he would know if Polly needed him. If she did, he would be removing her from the situation in seconds. “Make damn sure it’s a female officer putting the wire on her.”

  “Start talking,” Derek prompted after barking a terse command into his radio.

  “We don’t have much time,” Austin said briskly. “Driscol and his missus are waiting for us. Oh, and the disgraced cop you thrust into our midst.”

  “Jesus,” Derek muttered. “I’m going to regret this.”

  It was quite possible they all would.

  …

  Polly felt an invisible caress between her shoulder blades and knew it was Austin, watching her. Until now, she hadn’t been nervous. She trusted Austin, trusted the plan. But right before they’d parted ways, he’d kissed her. Not just kissed. He’d separated them from the group, tugged her into a doorway, and feasted on her mouth. He’d been so thorough, making savoring noises in the back of his throat, branding her with his tongue. She couldn’t stop replaying it in her head, remembering his expression as he’d pulled away. There wasn’t a name for how he’d looked at her. Or if there was, she hadn’t come up with it yet.

  There was no time, either. As Austin had reminded her over and over, she was playing a role. Breaking character wasn’t an option.

  Bowen walked ahead of her on the sidewalk, a careless arm thrown around Sera’s shoulders, although Polly knew his attitude was far from casual. He’d made it clear if he sensed a hint of danger, Sera would be out of there in seconds and heads would roll. Polly sensed that Sera’s provocative attire wasn’t doing anything positive for Bowen’s nerves, either. Sera wore a black corseted dress with a slit running all the way to her hip. Paired with a short blond wig, the getup rendered the undercover cop virtually unrecognizable.

  Initially, when Austin had pegged Bowen as the closest member of their group resembling a con, she’d been skeptical. But like had recognized like, apparently, because Bowen’s swagger and confidence were exactly what they needed to project. In his expensive suit, he was every inch the cocky boxing promoter. Smooth with just the right amount of cunning in his eyes.

  Henrik was to her right, clearly unhappy at being the epicenter of their strategy, especially since he’d been informed of Derek’s involvement. Polly understood that sentiment all too well. The captain had given them a second chance, and they’d gone behind his back. It would take them a while before they earned his trust back, if ever. She didn’t hold out any hope of Henrik ever trusting any of them, however. Not after she’d unearthed the only tool that would guarantee his participation.

  When they reached the glass double-door entrance, a hotel employee stepped back to allow them entry, unable to hide his interest in their ostentatiously dressed party of four. Polly checked the urge to tug her dress’s neckline higher, preferably up to her neck. Heat stole up her cheeks when she remembered Austin putting her into the garment, the way he’d dragged his tongue across her chest, his gaze locked on the swells of her breasts the entire time.

  “I’m going to press these together
later and slide my cock between them,” he’d said. “Other men will look tonight, sweet. They’ll want to touch. But you know your servant touches them best. And so do they.” He’d blown cool air across the damp path left behind by his tongue, turning her nipples erect. “My mistress.”

  Polly pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to still the cyclone of need.

  It turned out the memory was exactly what she needed, because suddenly, the hotel’s interior wasn’t intimidating. It was…sexy. Luxurious. Lit with tasteful lamps, the lobby bespoke elegance with a hint of edge, achieved by the seductive strains of modern jazz. She and Sera were drawing the attention of the male clientele, as planned, while receiving reproachful once-overs from the conservatively dressed women who frequented the upscale hotel. Bowen eased the sting, however, by sending winks in their direction.

  Henrik’s surly expression—whether intentional or not—garnered a different kind of attention. With his size and authoritative demeanor, he was intimidating under normal circumstances, but his lack of smile was in such contrast to the amused, half-drunk expressions worn by Sera, Bowen, and Polly, he stood out. They followed scripted signs through the lobby and down a wide, lushly carpeted corridor where big band music signaled the event.

  Just before they reached the entrance, Polly tucked a hand inside the crook of Henrik’s arm, well aware of any possible eyes on them. Reitman was just inside those doors, marking the first time she would see him since the nightclub. God, had it really only been a matter of days? “Your animosity is showing,” Polly murmured to Henrik, smiling as she said it.