Page 45 of Secret (Chicago Underground 6)
“Forget the past, you mean.”
“Put it where it belongs, but don’t forget. It made us stronger, all of us. You couldn’t be nearly as good a cop if you hadn’t gone through that. I hope that I can be useful to the shelter, because I know what these girls are going through.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you sounded like an optimist.” His tone teased me.
A smile tilted my lips. “I think it’ll be a long time before I get there, but I’m hopeful, and that’s something.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, bending down for a kiss. “It’s really something.”
In the bedroom, he proved his words, feasting on me and offering himself up in return. He was my craving and my nourishment, my weakness and my rapture. Like a genie rubbed from a lamp, my arousal had been awakened by his tongue and his touch and his kindness, while his resolve as an officer of the law had only been strengthened.
He’d been willing to give up a life of rigid honor, while I would trade in my stature, my past, my everything to be with him. But in the end, neither sacrifice had been necessary. Instead we fit the pieces together, his work and my heart, his body and my lust, every part of us intertwined and flowing together—seamless.
The End
Thank You
Thank you for reading Secret! I hope you enjoyed Luke and Shelly’s story. The next book in the Chicago Underground series is Sweet, which has the story of Rose, Philip’s sister, and Drew. Be sure to sign up for my newsletter to find out when it’s released: www.skyewarren.com/newsletter
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If you love the Chicago Underground series, you’ll really love the dirty, gritty Stripped series. New York Times bestselling author Pepper Winters calls it “captivating.”
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Excerpt from Tough Love
I unwrapped the brace from my knee, wincing at how bad it looked underneath. About as bad as it felt. A puffy mass of pain that I would pretend didn’t hurt so my brothers wouldn’t worry.
Very soon I wouldn’t need to hide. I wouldn’t need to hurt.
My end goal was simple, modest even. A ballet teacher with a small studio. An apartment nearby to put up my feet after work. And if it were lonelier that way…well, that was the price of exit.
Lindsey whistled as she slumped onto the locker-room bench beside me. “I really want to complain about my ankles right now, but after seeing your knees, I think I’ll just count my blessings.”
“Glad to be of service. Now, do you have good news for me?”
Lindsey was in the corps de ballet, a position for newer dancers within the company. Not as stressful as a principal, perhaps, but the pay was almost half, so many of them had side jobs to complement the paltry salaries.
She was a part-time real estate agent, and I’d enlisted her help in finding the right spot for my studio. So far the available spaces had been too large, too far outside Chicago proper, too expensive.
“You’re going to love this one, promise. Not only is the rent midrange, but it used to be a yoga studio, so there’s already a wooden floor and windows all around. And—wait for it—a living space upstairs.”
“Get out.” I had also asked her to keep an eye out for apartments nearby, but I hadn’t dared imagine it would happen in one fell swoop.
Her smile was smug. “I swear, if you don’t take this place, I will, and I’m not even opening a ballet school.”
“What’s the catch?”
“It’s hidden behind a courtyard. There’s virtually no storefront, but you can get signage on the building right by the street.”
Not a deal breaker at all. In fact, it would be better not to have pedestrians peering in the windows during ballet classes. “It still seems too good to be true.”
She shrugged. “The upstairs needs work. It was some sort of weird lounge, which I think is code for people smoking po
t all day.”
