Sometimes no amount of training and preparation can adequately prepare you for the experience to come. Sometimes the best weapon you can have is your gut instinct. Sometimes taking a risky adrenaline-fueled chance is your best bet. And then sometimes it still doesn't work out.

My uncle, Jonathan, had trained me extensively in self-defense when I was younger. He'd been a martial arts and women's self-defense instructor for over a decade by the time I turned thirteen. My mother decided it was time for me to learn the proper ways to protect myself, though my juvenile brain thought I already knew everything and wasn't remotely interested in the classes. Looking back on it as I sat in a stolen SUV with a police officer on the run, I was glad Jon had taken the time. I still remembered several of those common self-defense moves, and though I hoped I wouldn't have to use them, I knew that training would come in handy, if necessary.

Then there was Joey. Taking the majority of his day to show me how to sight a pistol, how to properly stand when aiming and firing, how to load, and of course, how to be safe when handling a firearm. Though I knew I needed quite a bit more practice, and I wasn't a completely accurate shot, I felt better prepared for the unknown, now that I knew the basics of hitting a target. My best aim had been when I was visualizing Cadillac Man in place of the silhouette.

No amount of self-defense or shooting lessons were going to make me feel entirely safe and ready to take on Richard Lux and Cadillac Man, however. I thought back to when I took an archery course for the fun of it. My ex best friend, Emily, had gone on about how much fun it was for weeks until I finally caved and signed up, surprised when I actually enjoyed it.

At the time, archery was just a fun thing to learn how to do. It had nothing to do with protecting myself. Yet there I was, six years later, running the idea through my mind of taking out the bad guys with a bow and arrow, if need be. My thoughts after that were useless - mental images of sling-shotting rocks at people and hiding behind trees, vehicles, whatever I could find to shelter myself. Where was a box of hand grenades when you needed them? That would've come in handy when the Cadillac was trailing us.

I groaned, rubbing my temples with my fingertips as I looked out the bullet-battered windshield. Joey's side mirror was the only mirror left. The others had been shot off. I stared at one of the holes in the windshield, an eerie feeling flooding through me when I realized just how close they'd come to their goal of eliminating us. I was thanking my lucky stars that Joey was a quick-thinker and so good at maneuvering us out of harm's way. Imagining what could have happened if he hadn't saved our asses sent shivers down my spine in the worst way.

"What did they say?" My voice sounded frail and shaky.

After Joey had answered my phone, there had been no conversation. The caller had said something to him that I couldn't hear, hanging up a few seconds later.

Several minutes had passed and Joey hadn't uttered a word to me about the call. I'd been trying to avoid asking, knowing he was already angry enough and I didn't want to tug on his last nerve. Curiosity was getting the best of me, however, as it so often did.

By the time we reached the small town of Barre, Massachusetts, my question still hadn't received an answer. Joey's eyes had stayed fixed on the road ahead until we reached a tiny motel. He'd stopped a mile before for fast food - a sack of burritos and two much-needed coffees.

The caffeine was a nice refresher, but I wasn't too interested in eating. I still hadn't acquired an appetite.

My senses were as heightened as they could be. The longer we stayed in the stolen vehicle with very obvious bullet holes, the easier I felt it was becoming for the local authorities or Cadillac Man to spot us again. It was the equivalent of driving around with a giant bullseye on each side of the SUV. I wished invisibility or teleportation existed so I could simply disappear when the bad guys showed up again. Wishful thinking at its finest.

"I thought I was supposed to go into protective custody," I finally pointed out, confused, when we pulled into a parking spot at the run down motel.

Joey sighed heavily, not in the mood to answer any of my questions. He'd been brooding the whole way from Westfield.

"Yeah. That was the plan." His tone was sharp - angered, and it was obvious he was trying to refrain from snapping at me again. "If we hadn't had visitors, we'd be back in Boston by now. But I have to do what I think is safest for both of us, Jess. We'll see how tomorrow goes."

With that said, he slammed the door, going to get us a room and hide the SUV behind the building.

Burritos and coffee weren't a good combination. At least that's what I thought. Of course, nothing is a good combination when it sends you to the bathroom eight times within two hours.

Despite how sweet he was being, holding my hair back and singing off-key renditions of Springsteen songs in attempts to make me smile, I could tell Joey was horribly grossed out by watching me repeatedly empty my stomach. He swore he'd never mix coffee and Mexican food with me again.

Joey reminded me of a handsome college jock who had a secret sweet, dorky side. At one point, he'd spent a whole five minutes going through a series of goofy facial expressions simply to make me giggle. I didn't mention it, not wanting to sound like a school girl infatuated with him, but that random set of gestures meant a lot to me. Most men wouldn't take the time to try to make a woman smile while she vomited, let alone hold her hair back and sing to her. Granted, the singing sucked, but still.

"Feeling any better?" Joey held back a chuckle, his voice soft and sweet.

I wasn't feeling much better, but to keep him from quizzing me about what he could do to help, I kept my response to a simple nod.

I changed into a loose T-shirt I borrowed from him and curled up on top of the covers, nuzzling into the pillows. It wasn't long before a pressure on the mattress signaled his arrival, cuddling up against my back and running a hand up and down my arm.

"I hope you feel better in the morning," he whispered, his warm breath tickling the tiny hairs on the back of my neck again.

I didn't tell him, but my mood and stomach pains were already beginning to improve just from the comfort of his closeness. I felt safe in his arms. Most of the time, I forgot he was a cop. It seemed like he was just a regular guy protecting me. Just some random, sweet, sexy, amazing guy.

When I did remember his job title, however, I couldn't push away the nagging wonder of whether or not we could or would end up being something more than a one-night stand and a few feverish kisses. It was the last thing that should be on my mind under the circumstances, but it was also one of the most maddening questions I continued to toss around the possible outcomes of. I desperately wanted to know what would happened to our odd relationship once I was transferred to protective custody and he went back to work. Would we even be able to talk to each other again?

"Joey," I mumbled against the fabric of the white pillowcase.

It smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and I assumed the cleaning crew hadn't done a very good job. A soft grunt came from behind me, acknowledging me.

"You never answered my question earlier," I reminded him, still curious as to what the person who called had said to him.

Joey had yet to return the phone to me either. He'd stashed it in his shirt pocket after the caller had hung up.

He adjusted his position on the bed, rolling onto his back and yawning as he stared up at the water-stained ceiling. The wallpaper was peeling off around the window and the carpet had certainly seen better days. I rolled over as well, both of us looking up at a heart someone had drawn on the popcorn ceiling in black sharpie.

"I know," was all he said.

"Why didn't you-"

"Let's not discuss it tonight, Jess."

He turned his head to the side to look at me and I mimicked his actions, instantly feeling butterflies in my stomach when our eyes met. Our faces were only about six inches apart and it took all my willpower not to climb on top of him and kiss the daylights out of his pouty, soft pink lips.

"I don't want to think about it right now. I'm burnt out. We'll worry about it tomorrow," Joey said with pleading, tired eyes.

That wasn't the answer I'd hoped for. It was going to bother me all fucking night until I knew who had called and what was said. I had no doubt it was connected to Richard Lux. Shouldn't Joey want me to know this information? Nobody would be calling my burner phone if it didn't have something to do with me. Like any normal person, I wanted to know what the hell was going on, if the call was in regards to me.

I fought the urge to argue with Joey. He was clearly exhausted and so was I. I didn't have the heart to keep pestering him when he needed sleep. Instead, I thought up a plan. I'd get ahold of the phone once he'd fallen asleep and I'd check the caller I.D. from earlier. I remembered the area code – 917. I knew that was New York City. But why would they want us to know their phone number? Wouldn't it make more sense to call from an unknown number? This got me thinking maybe they expected Joey to call them back. But what for?

While I'd been lying there, lost in thought, Joey had seemingly fallen asleep. His breathing had become softer and slower. He appeared to be sleeping. Now was my opportunity to snatch the phone from his pocket.

I cautiously reached up to snake my fingers inside. Just when I touched the edge of the phone-

"What are you doing, Jess?" Joey's gruff voice startled me.

I quickly improvised, slowly running my hand back and forth over his chest as if that'd been my plan all along. Then another idea popped in my head. If he was that easily awakened by me barely even touching his shirt, how in the hell was I going to get the phone out of his pocket? Maybe if I got him to take his shirt off, then I could get to the phone later.

I decided to play with Joey's needs. Since our heated exchange in the car had been so rudely interrupted earlier, his hormones were probably on edge now. It wasn't one-sided either. I craved his lips on mine again. I needed to feel his touch again.

"Joey," I breathed, my shoulder brushing his and sending a bolt of electricity through every nerve in my body.

His eyes bore into mine in a mesmerizing stare. I began to bite at my lower lip while I anxiously waited for him to say something. I imagined his tongue in my mouth - the familiar, delicious feeling that set my emotions ablaze every time. I wanted him - all of him - so badly.

"Don't do that."

His words were soft, yet demanding at the same time. His voice was husky and authoritative mixed with sweet and salacious.

My eyebrows drew together. "What do you mean?"

Joey's hand found mine as we continued to gaze lustfully into each other's eyes. His fingers intertwined with mine, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over the back of my hand.

"Don't bite your lip," he clarified.

His eyes dropped from mine to my mouth in longing. I shuddered at the sight.

Feeling a rush of heat dart through my stomach to my core, I challenged his order and drew my lower lip into my mouth, grazing the skin with my teeth. Faster than I could blink, he had me pinned under his firm, muscular body, driving me absolutely insane. His lips found their way to my collarbone and then my neck. I gasped at the familiar feeling of his teeth teasing my earlobe, burning my nerves beneath his feverish touch.

His lips lingered just below my ear, kissing, nibbling and sucking on my neck. Finally, he drew back, his hot breath teasing me as I waited for his next move.

"What did I say?"

His words were possessive and dominant. This was a new side of him I hadn't yet seen and it was turning me on even more. So much more.

He withdrew from his comfortable position, his lips leaving my earlobe, earning a needy whine from me. His eyes found mine once again in a paralyzing stare, easily seducing me.

"That's my job," he said in a raspy voice, lowering his mouth to mine and nipping at my bottom lip.

I moaned against his lips, my breathing becoming ragged when I felt his fingertips slipping under the baggy T-shirt and slowly finding their way to my chest, his thumb softly rubbing over one of my already hardened nipples, eliciting many more pleasured sounds from me as he bit down harder on my lip.

Joey's tongue found its way into my mouth with a groan. He begun to grind the hard lump in his sweatpants against me. My legs wrapped around him, gently squeezing his hips in an ever-growing need.

It wasn't long before our clothes were shed and discarded on the dirty purple carpet. My hands gripped his shoulders, sliding down to grasp his biceps, my nails digging into his muscles when I felt him enter me. A loud, needy moan left my lips. He responded with a groan, nipping at my jawline.

We both begun to pant, making out, desperate to feel and taste more of each other. It was like we couldn't get close enough. We couldn't press our bodies tight enough together. He couldn't thrust inside me hard enough. We couldn't kiss or bite each other's lips enough. I couldn't get enough of him. He couldn't get enough of me. Our loud pants and deep moans filled the room, no doubt keeping the people on either side of our room awake.

Joey's thrusts became uneven and less forceful, his lips leaving mine as he raised his body just enough to lock eyes with me. His sparkling blue eyes captured all of my attention and the rest of the world and all its evil doings faded away. All I could think about was him. All I could see was him. All I could feel was him.

"Please don't stop," I choked out.

My words were not in reference to his physical actions, but instead his passion and the way he made me feel - the safety I felt beneath his body as well as in his arms. For the first time in years, I felt completely happy. All thoughts of Richard Lux and Cadillac Man had dissipated. I couldn't drag my focus from the gorgeous, erotic view of the man lying on top of me, his bangs damp with sweat and his lips swollen from our kissing.

Our breathing slowed to a relaxed rhythm as he rolled onto his side, tugging the tattered covers up over us and wrapping his strong arms around me. I wanted to stay awake and make conversation, having easily fallen in love with the sound of his voice, but my eyelids quickly begun to feel heavier, drooping until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. I curled up in Joey's comforting embrace, my head claiming his chest as my pillow, and within minutes, I had fallen asleep to his soft breathing and the gentle tease of his bangs falling onto my forehead.