Holding The Line: A romantic suspense that will get your pulse racing

She needed to stop.

But she wanted him.

She tried to push him away but her arms would not listen. “It might make me feel better.” It might make me want you less.

He shrugged. “No it won’t. It will just give you something different to feel shitty about.”

Beth’s eyes flew open. If he only knew. “Trust me, I have plenty to feel shitty about.” She pushed away from him and grabbed her wine glass.

“Beth, stop it! I’m not going to let you do this to yourself. You’re not even enjoying it. You’re just drinking to get drunk.”

Beth laughed but there was nothing joyful about the sound. “Now you’re here to save me from my mistakes. Where were you all the other times? Where were you when I let my mom be institutionalized? I needed you then. Where were you?” She threw her head back and downed the contents. Her throat burned.

“I’m sorry.”

She held up her hand to cut him off. “No, there is more. You’re back and you think we can go back to the way it was. Before, you would just have to look at me and my panties would come off. That is how it was then. But it can’t ever be that way now. You wouldn’t want me if you knew. Ask me why, Torres!” she demanded.

“Stop. You’re drunk. Don’t say things you’re going to regret.”

“Ha! I wish words were all I had to regret,” she scoffed. “Maybe if you had been here, I could have limited my regrets to only stupid drunken words. Where were you when I needed you, Torres?”

She pushed him. Her hands struck into the solid wall of his chest. He didn’t budge but his strength only served to ignite her smoldering anger. The pain was fresh as the day he left, like acid on a paper cut.

“Where were you when I was fucking Patterson?!” There, she’d said it. It was out there and she could never take it back.

Torres’ face changed, went impossibly dark, his eyes glazed over.

She struck her hands into his chest again. “Where were you? I needed you then.” Beth struck him again. “Say something, you son of a bitch. Where were you all the times I was fucking Patterson?”

Torres pinned her arms to her sides. “Shut up,” he seethed. His voice was ragged. “Don’t say any more.” His body shook as he tried to control his anger. There had never been any love lost between Torres and Patterson; they hated each other actually. Her partner had been against recruiting Torres from the beginning, he thought he was too unpredictable, too emotionally invested, too much of a liability. And for Torres, any shred of goodwill towards Patterson had been lost when Patterson let Beth take the blame for the ambush in Mexico.

Beth knew sleeping with Patterson would hurt Torres, more than if she had slept with anyone else. And maybe that is why she picked Patterson. Or maybe because it was because he looked at her the way Torres once did. Or maybe it was because she knew it would never be messy with Patterson. He made her feel good, desired. Sometimes he even made her forget. And Patterson knew the rules; what happened off the clock would never affect their professional relationship.

She pulled against him but she was overpowered. “No, you need to hear about it. Four years is a long time. Did you expect me to be waiting for you? Ask me when the first time was.”

“Stop it,” he commanded through clenched teeth. The muscles in his jaw knotted. He pushed her against the wall, pinning her in place. “I don’t want to hear it.”

The air was being squeezed from her body; every breath was a battle. Her body ached. It took all her strength to fill her lungs enough to say, “Two days. Two days before he was fucking me. Two days.”

“I told you to stop.” Torres pulled her away from the wall. She could finally breathe, but not for long. He gathered her against him. “I told you to stop,” he said again.

He pushed her back until her knees hit the couch. She fell back. His hands reached for his zipper. In an instant, his cock was free, long and hard.

Beth opened her mouth to speak but Torres covered it with his hand. “No more,” he rasped. “I can’t hear any more.”

With one hand he clasped her mouth, with the other he yanked up her skirt. He pulled at her panties. She bucked her hips. The movement was enough for the satin to give under the strain. Over his ragged breath she heard the fabric rip and then she felt the rush of cool air against her naked flesh.

With a single stroke he penetrated her, filling her completely. Her eyes widened with pain as the head of his cock battered against her cervix. He took his hand away from her mouth. “No more talking,” he said.

Wordlessly she nodded. He withdrew slowly until just the tip of him sat poised at the entrance of her body. “I’m here now,” he said as he slid into her again. Her legs spread to make room for him. “I’m here now.”

Beth’s hands went to his hair, fisting in the dark length. Slowly he moved in and out of her, claiming her. In that moment she belonged to him. Her body wasn’t ready, but she didn’t fight him. He was here now, with her, in her. She could worry about things later. Tomorrow their relationship would still be over, tomorrow she could still drown in regret. She could cry tomorrow.

Right now he was inside her and that was all that mattered. It was the thing she had trained herself to stop wishing for. But her body still craved it, still knew how to respond to his touch.

His pace grew faster, less restrained. Her hips bucked to match his thrusts. With a final powerful thrust, he came, his cock pulsed as warmth filled her.

He collapsed on her. They lay together, him still inside her, his cheek pressed against hers. The only sounds were his ragged breaths. Neither dared to speak. Once one of them did, it would be over, this moment, this reprieve.

His heartbeat was strong against her chest. He was heavy on top of her but she didn’t want him to move. She would gladly give up breathing, to have him close for another moment.

He sat up. His hand reached up to his cheek. His face was slick with her tears. His eyes narrowed in confusion. And then his face contorted in horror as realization sank in. He ran a hand through his hair. “Oh fuck, Beth.” In his hand he held the remains of the underwear he had ripped from her body. “Fuck, Beth, I’m sorry.” His voice broke from the strain of the emotion.

Beth pushed herself up on her elbows. “It’s too late to apologize. For any of it. That is what I was trying to tell you.” She hung her head. They couldn’t take back anything that had been said or done.

“Fuck,” he said again. “Oh Christ. I’m sorry.”

Beth swung her legs around so she could sit up on the couch. “Don’t, Torres. I don’t want to talk about it. It happened, it’s fine. I just don’t want to talk any more. I’m done.”

He ran a hand through his hair and swore again. “Let me run you a bath.”

Beth shook her head. “No. Don’t you see? It’s over. If it wasn’t over the minute you crossed the border, it was over when I slept with Patterson.”

Torres flinched at the mention of her partner’s name.

The small movement was enough for her to realize why she had picked Patterson: because it gave the control back to Beth. It was Beth’s way of closing the door forever. “It’s over, Torres.”

“Fine.” Torres buttoned his pants. “But I can’t leave you like this after what just happened. Let me take care of you. Let me run you a bath.”

“No. It’s over. I don’t want you to run me a bath. I just want you to go.”

“Beth, I’m sorry.” Shame marred his dark features.

She shook her head again. “Stop saying that. Apologies won’t fix anything. They aren’t going to make us better. They’re not going to rewind the clock. It’s over.”

“I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

Beth’s head snapped up. “You didn’t do anything to me. We did something together. We said goodbye, Torres. I knew what was going to happen when I sent my sister and Alejandra away. We have a lot of history. We needed that closure. So don’t apologize for that. If you want to apologize for anything, apologize for leaving in the first place. Or better yet apologize for letting me fall in love with you.”

Torres reached for her hand and she didn’t pull away. “I won’t apologize for that.”

They sat in silence until Beth leaned over and kissed the slash on his cheek. “What are you going to do now? I mean not tonight. I mean in general with your life.”

Torres looked down at the ripped panties in his hand. “I don’t know. I’m stuck. I’m dead after all.”

Beth shook her head. This was one time when she hated her job. She hated knowing what was going to happen next. “Armando Torres is dead. Jessop will probably already have a cover chosen. It’ll take a few weeks to get everything in place but then you can start a new life somewhere. If you have any preference for state or preferred name, best to let him know now. Any idea where you want to go?”

Torres laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to go anywhere. For four years, you were the home that I fought to get back to.”