Page 24 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

“Because I learned something about myself in that alley. I enjoyed it, all of it. The hunt, the chase. The kill. I wanted to do it again.” He pauses as if waiting on my reaction. Does he want me to act horrified?

When I simply nod, he asks, “Do you want to kill the Bondage Killer?”

Straight to the heart of the matter. I shift in my seat but stop when I realize I’m doing it and that it’s giving away my unsettled state of mind. “I want justice.”

Rex doesn’t blink. “Do you want me to kill him?”

“I want him brought to justice,” I reiterate, but at the moment, I can’t tell him what that means. Rex narrows his eyes but says nothing. I have the uneasy feeling that he knows I want BK dead, but I can’t bring myself to tell Rex not to kill him.

I return to my work. I’m trying to connect the Blackbird murders to the Bondage Killer, but it feels off. The Bondage Killer didn’t select single victims. The Blackbird scenes were much more straightforward in composition.

I’m missing something.

I stand and stretch my aching back. In times like these, when I’m deep in a case and need release, I’d seek out a club and a scene partner. An anonymous meeting, a one-off to get me out of my head.

I can meet all of your needs. It’s all I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

I can feel Rex’s gaze on the back of my neck. He’s been watching over me, vigilant as a dom. We’re not in a scene, but Rex is so intense he probably thinks that every time we’re together, it’s a scene. He wants to exhort control over every moment.

And I want to let him.

I sigh and face him.

“What do you need?”

“I need a break,” I say.

“Then let’s take a break.” He holds out a hand. He’s been so careful to offer to lead rather than assume.

I take it and he leads me out of the dark situation room, back into the suite. I’m tense, waiting for him to snap and revert to the monster that wants to lock me away. So far, he’s behaved himself, and I’m trying to give him a chance to earn back my trust.

The scent of butter and garlic hits me and makes my stomach gurgle.

Rex must have called in someone to set up a table by the darkened windows.

The food is ready, plated on fine china and covered by silver domes to keep it warm.

Room service at its fanciest, except there are telltale red and white checkered placemats that tell me where the food is from.

“Oh my gods, you got Paisanos.”

“Your favorite.” He holds my chair out for me.

I waste no time digging into the food. Stuffed mushrooms, fresh rolls and bruschetta, fettuccine with prosciutto.

Rex inhales a huge steak and then sits back, watching me with a small smile on his face, as if it’s satiating some need of his to watch me eat my food. My cheeks heat under the laser focus of his attention.

“You have to try this.” I raise my fork, offering.

He leans in and lets me feed him a bite of pasta. His lips close over the fork, and I flush. Even though the act of feeding someone is dominant and the act of being fed submissive, I still feel like he’s the one calling the shots, directing our roles. It makes me blush further.

His small smile says he notices my heated cheeks and knows the reason I’m blushing.

My phone vibrates, distracting me.

It’s Silva.

Silva: Girl, you’re married? To Rex Roy?

“Excuse me,” I say to Rex and text Silva back.

Me: Long story

Silva: I heard Chief wants you to lead the 8 am debrief. Congrats

This is news to me. I check my email and sure enough, there’s a summons for me to present my profile of the Bondage Killer at the early morning meeting. There’s also an email from Bonds, gruffly welcoming me back to the case.

“What is it?” Rex asks, and I realize I’m grinning.

“I’m back on the case.”

“Congratulations.”

My smile fades when I realize my connection to Rex is what got me reinstated. “Nepotism at its finest, I guess.”

“You earned it,” he says, and he’s right. I wish my own merits would have earned my place, but it’s not a perfect world, and I’ll take what I can get.

I imagine myself walking in tomorrow and swiping my badge that reads “Inara Roy.” How is this my life?

Not to mention that I’ll be dropped off by a personal driver and escorted to the door of the police station by two huge guys with skull rings.

Which reminds me of what Silva said earlier about Fraternitas.

“Do you have gang members guarding me?”

“I’m told that Kaiser and Jaeger are the best.”

Kaiser and Jaeger must be the identical hulks. I make a note of their names. “Won’t people be upset that an NRPD detective has criminals acting as her bodyguards?”

“The press knows not to talk about Fraternitas. No one will mention them at all.”

I blanch. “Because they feel threatened?”

Rex shrugs. “Bribes, threats, favors, St. James deploys them all.”

“Oh, that makes me feel better.” I roll my eyes. “Wait, St. James is part of Fraternitas?”

Rex nods, and I throw up my hands. “Well, that’s just wonderful.”

Rex

I lean back in my chair, savoring the moment, drinking her in. I like that I’m the one to explain the intricacies of my city to her. “He doesn’t wear his ring all the time because he’s become the public face of the brotherhood. The business side, anyway.”

“Good to know,” she mutters, stabbing her fork into her pasta. “Now I know why the ring looked familiar. I got a debrief about the criminal activity in NRPD as part of my orientation.”

“Fraternitas is less a criminal organization and more an essential cog in the city’s wheel that happens to step outside the bounds of the law from time to time.”

“Like a corporation.” She shoves a forkful of pasta into her mouth and chews, glaring at me balefully.

“Exactly.”

She speaks with her mouth full, still glaring. “Like you.”

“I’m more than just a cog.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” she mutters.

I tilt my head. “I can be. But I think you like pain in your ass.”

“My gods,” she mutters. I chuckle, and she grabs a dinner roll and throws it at my head. I catch it and take a bite so it doesn’t go to waste.

She must be feeling better if she’s goofing off like this. I love being silly with her. She seemed to have accepted her change in marital status. “This is nice, isn’t it? Having dinner after work.”

She grunts, unwilling to admit how much fun she’s having. Challenge accepted. I reach for a final plate on the nearby rolling cart and present her with the last part of our meal—a large slice of tiramisu.

This turns out to be a mistake. Inara licking into a thick layer of mascarpone is more erotic than anything I’ve seen. I grip the edge of the table as she practically licks the plate clean. I display admirable restraint, but it takes all my control not to pounce on her.

Finally, she pushes her plate back with a sigh.

“Better?”

“Much. Thank you.” One last swipe of her tongue over her plump lips. I have to turn away for a moment to get a hold of myself. My cock is painful in my pants.

I never knew a simple dinner with someone could feel like a rollercoaster, but this is as good as a scene. The high of connection. The lows of denial. The razor edge of need and the lightness when I hold the space for my partner to truly be herself.

I’m smiling when I face her again.

“What?” she asks, looking confused at my grin.

“Thank you for dining with me.”

She looks uncertain. “I should be thanking you for feeding me.”

My heart softens. She’s trying to let me in. “My pleasure.”

Her forehead wrinkles further like she’s at war with herself. I stay silent, letting her wrestle with her feelings.

“Will you. . . will you stay with me? Spend the night, I mean.”

Triumph. My patience and restraint paid off. “Always.”

Inara

He sleeps naked. Because, of course, he does.

After a shower to wash off the day, I come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and he’s already stretched out on the bed, lounging under the covers. He looks like the king of the castle, a warrior resting after winning the war.

He did win, I guess. And I’m okay with it because I’m aligning myself with him. Working with him instead of against him. It’ll be nice to be on the winning team.

I return to the bathroom to dress in a short, navy blue nightgown trimmed with nude lace. I take the time to blow dry and brush my hair. I’m suddenly nervous about this. Like a virgin bride on her wedding night. I drop the brush and laugh at my reflection in the mirror.

It’s just Rex. He’s behaving. And it’s more convenient to let him hang around than go out and seek a stranger.

I’m used to grueling nights like these. Working a case and handling the murder book and files always sends me to a dark place.

That’s why I would visit a sex club to break up the feelings.

The impact play would give me the release I needed.

Pain followed by an endorphin rush. It would be temporary, but it would help.

But whenever I’m in the thick of it, I can’t escape the case. It would follow me home and haunt my dreams. It wasn’t all bad. My subconscious would process the details and the answers could come to me in my dreams. More often than not, I’ve broken cases by waking up with the puzzle worked out.

Tonight will be no different, except this time, I won’t be alone. It’s a novel thought, one that makes me eager to climb into bed. I hesitate before sliding into the covers.

“I don’t know if I’m up for anything tonight,” I tell Rex.

“You should sleep,” he murmurs. “You need rest.”

He’s right.

I curl up on my side, facing away from him. My back prickles. I’m acutely aware that there’s a giant dom in my bed. My body is desperate for his warmth.

“Thank you for getting me Lacy’s murder book,” I say into the dark.

“You’re welcome.”

“I actually found it years ago when I was staying with Lacy. She was in the kitchen, and I snooped in her bookcases.” I remember pulling the book onto my lap, and a loose piece of paper fluttered to the floor. It was a picture of my family. Teenage me had stopped breathing.

“That must have been hard.”