My efforts make him vocal. And I like it. I’m in complete control to do what I please, his vulnerability to my mouth and touch surging my desires and his.

Curran stands and gathers my hair, thrusting gently, but speaking in a growl that makes it clear he enjoys the raid on his body. “You like that, baby?” he grunts.

I moan, demonstrating just how much.

He curses, growing louder when I dig my nails into his luscious backside and encourage him to pump faster and further in.

His body shakes against me with his release. I think he means to pull away, to give me some reprieve. But just then he’s mine to have, and he’s not going anywhere.

“Fuck,” he groans when I haul him back, curling his arms around my head.

I slow as he finishes, using more gentle movements, then lift my gaze to meet his. Sweat trickles down his chest and his light skin flushes to a deep red. He clasps my elbows and helps me to my feet, searching my face as if he doesn’t know me.

But he does. No one has ever known me like Curran.

Curran

I don’t remember falling asleep. What I do remember is Tess next to me, the smell of her hair, and how I gathered her close to keep her warm.

I also remember Joey, and the visit he paid me. He’s been a frequent guest in my head lately, one that has overstayed his welcome, all thanks to me.

Same dream. Same scenario. Same reality.

Shit.

“We got him now, O’Brien!” Joey yells.

I recognize that familiar light in his eyes, the one all rookies get at their first big arrest. The adrenaline stirs it. It’s the same light that dulls with each passing year on the force. I still have that light, too, flaring as bright as a lighthouse on the Jersey shore.

Joey leans forward, his hands clinging to the dash as the perp we’ve chased down for the last twelve blocks cuts a hard right and dashes down a cross street. Twice he’s slipped into the alleyways, trying to disappear. He’s local and knows the streets. Thing is, I know them, too. So each time Joey’s cursed, thinking we’ve lost him, I’ve kept my focus, forcing him back out where we could see him.

Our flashing strobe of blue and red smacks against his back. We’re getting closer. “Robbery suspect on the run near Stewart and Monroe,” I bark into the radio. “Officers O’Brien and Supreski in pursuit.”

I stomp on the brakes when we veer into the cross street and I catch sight of a door to an old warehouse slamming shut. “Suspect entered Old Mill Cannery at Stewart and Monroe, request backup. Suspect in black hood, dark jeans, possibly armed, repeat, possibly armed.”

“Roger that. Available units to Stewart and Monroe…”

Joey hits the ground running. “Supreski, wait.”

Joey flattens his back against the wall of the building. “Come on, he’s just a kid. We got this, O’Brien.”

I take the opposite side, leaning hard against the old brick. “Calm your shit,” I spit out. I know what he’s thinking, ’cause I’m thinking it, too. The perp’s a teen, a little guy. Probably trying to make a name for himself on the street. We’ve already cuffed his two older friends who’d held up the old mom-and-pop shop, left them with our backup, and tore after this guy.

“He’s gonna get away,” Joey snaps.

“No, we got this.” I count down with my fingers, three-two-one.

I throw open the door and find out just how wrong I am.

—

“Curran? Curran!” Tess’s arms are wrapped around mine, tugging me hard. “Are you all right?”

The hell I am. Pain twists my lungs like a clenching fist and cold sweat pours down my spine. I can’t see shit, which makes things worse. I’m drifting off into that fucking black sea, the one that threatens to pull me under and drown me.

“Curran, can you hear me?”

I clench my teeth. I don’t know where I am. But I know Tess’s voice and feel her presence. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her hand stroking my back. “It’s just a dream, you’re only dreaming.”

No, I’m not, baby.

My chest caves inward. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.

“Shhhh.” Lips pass along my shoulder, pressing soft kisses. “You’re all right. I swear you are.”

I don’t think I am. In fact, I know I’m not. If I were, this pressure building wouldn’t hurt so damn bad.

“I need you to wake up, okay?” she whispers. “Wake up for me.”

Nothing makes sense; my head’s spinning from lack of air. But I can hear her. She’s my lifeline, the one I grab when the agonizing second wave hits.

Son of a bitch.

It’s like something is pulling my ribs apart, cracking my bones to rip out my lungs and leave me barren. “Curran, stay with me. Please stay with me, sweetie.”

I force the pain away and I latch on to Tess—the intimacy of her voice, the warmth of her skin, and the subtle scent of her perfume, allowing every part of her to haul me back up and out of the darkness.

Slowly, that tightening fist releases its vicious hold.

I concentrate on breathing when I drag that first gulp of air deep into my lungs, allowing those soft kisses Tess trails along the curve of my neck to soothe me. She abandons my arm to wrap both of hers carefully over my shoulders. “Shhh,” she says quietly. “It’s okay.”

Lu’s right; it sure as shit isn’t okay. But I can’t let Tess know that, not now. Instead of answering, I work to draw in more air.

In the time it takes for me to calm, the cold creeping in from the windows cools my sweat-soaked body. Jesus. It feels like my skin is covered in a layer of frost.

“Do you have any water?” I ask, my throat so raw I want to claw at it.

“Yes, wait here.” She kisses my cheek and slips out of bed, pulling her nightshirt over her head. I watch her walk away, listening to her fumble around in the kitchen. The motor on her ice machine rattles as it spits out the cubes into a glass.

Clink. Clink.

I ram my eyes shut. That sound is too similar to empty bullet shells hitting the concrete floor. Get it together, asshole. Get it together now.

Tess hurries back in. She hands me a glass and takes a seat beside me, her fingertips stroking lightly against my back. She waits for me to down every last drop before she speaks. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. Just a nightmare—that’s all.”

She hesitates, as if trying not to upset me. “Involving your line of work?”

My sight adjusts enough to catch the worry in her face. I keep my expression neutral as I mull over what to say. My first instinct is to lie. The thing is, I’m not sure what I said or did in my sleep. For all I know, I could have told her more than I wanted her to hear.

“It’s a tough gig,” I admit.

She nods carefully and reaches for the empty glass. “Do you want some more water?”

Water is the last thing I want. It was cold like the room, and only added to the sub-zero temperature shoving its way through my bloodstream. I take a strand of her hair and run it through my fingers. It’s soft, like the rest of her. Maybe she’s what I need, then. “I’m good,” I tell her.

“I don’t think you are.” She lifts her hand and strokes the side of my temple. “I want to help you, but I’m not sure how.”

She’d put her glasses back on, the tiny square ones. I didn’t notice her do that before she went into the kitchen, but I notice them now. They’re sexy on her. Hell, everything’s sexy on her. But considering what I plan to do, they’ll only get in my way.

I pinch the stems on the sides and carefully lift the glasses off her face. Tess watches me fold them and place them on her nightstand before pegging me with an inviting look that begs me to touch her.