by Paige Tyler
Down the street, Joyce and her son got into an old Cadillac that had seen better days and pulled out of the driveway. As the car passed the Hummer, Logan automatically slid down in the seat, motioning for Presley to do the same. He waited until the Cadillac had disappeared around the corner before sitting up again. Starting the engine, he pulled closer to the house.
“Won’t parking so close to the house look suspicious?” Presley asked as they got out and walked around to the rear of the Hummer.
He glanced at her as he opened the SUV’s back door. “We’d look more suspicious walking down the street and sneaking onto someone’s property. Besides, there are a lot of cars parked along the curb. One more won’t draw attention.”
Unzipping his duffel bag, he grabbed his sawed-off shotgun and slid it under his jacket into the modified holster that made carrying it around in public easier.
Alarm flickered in Presley’s eye at the sight of the gun. “Do you think Del Vecchio will show up?”
Logan swung the duffel bag up on his shoulder, then pushed the back door of the Hummer closed. “I just like to be prepared. Come on.”
Since someone could see them breaking and entering through the front door, Logan led her around to the back of the house. When they got there, he pulled out a set of lockpicks and dropped to one knee in front of the door. He wiggled the pick around in the lock until he felt it give, then pushed it open.
Putting the set of picks back in his pocket, Logan took out two flashlights from his duffel bag and handed one to Presley before they went inside. He played his flashlight around the kitchen. He was right about the Formica table. The refrigerator wasn’t pastel-colored, but plain old white. Bummer.
Logan figured Joyce and her son would be gone at least a couple hours, but he didn’t want them coming home to find him and Presley snooping around, so they needed to work as quickly as possible. Since it wasn’t likely Dillon would hide anything downstairs where his mother could easily find it, Logan led Presley directly upstairs.
There were two bedrooms on the second floor, as well as a tiny bathroom. If he’d been with Mav, they would have each taken a bedroom to search, but he wanted to keep Presley close. If they came up empty in Dillon’s room, they could always check the rest of the house.
If the black clothes, piercings and eyeliner didn’t tell Logan the kid was a little off, Dillon’s bedroom would have. The walls and ceiling were painted black with splashes of dark red that reminded Logan of the blood spatter he’d seen at so many crime scenes back when he was a cop. The bed, nightstands and desk were black too, as were the heavy drapes covering the windows. There were the requisite posters Logan would expect to see in a teenager’s bedroom, only instead of hot girls in bikinis and muscle cars, Dillon had pictures of graveyards, skulls and Goth bands.
“Why don’t you take the desk and bookshelf?” Logan suggested. “I’ll check the closet and dresser.”
Presley nodded and headed over to the desk while he opened the closet. Not surprisingly, it was filled with black clothes and two more pairs of tanker boots. He yanked open the topmost drawer on the dresser and was about to search through it when Presley let out a startled gasp. He glanced over his shoulder to see her staring at the bookshelf, a look of horror on her face.
“Did you find something?” he asked, crossing the room to stand beside her.
She glanced at him. “Something gross. Look.”
He followed the beam of her flashlight as she shone it on the row of jars on the shelf. While most teens had comic books or CDs in their room, Dillon kept jars of preserved bugs, lizards and frogs.
“Freaky, I’ll admit,” he said. “Unfortunately, none of them are human.”
He and Presley spent the next ten minutes digging through every drawer in the room, but still came up empty. Thinking there might be something hidden underneath the mattress, he lifted it up. His mouth twitched at the collection of porno magazines underneath. Good to know Dillon Reynolds was at least semi-normal.
Logan dropped the mattress and turned to Presley. “There’s nothing in here. Let’s take a quick look in Joyce’s room, then check out Del Vecchio’s bedroom before we get out of here. It’s a long shot, but maybe the kid stashed something in one of them.”
Like the living room, Joyce’s bedroom was straight out of a bygone era with its garish flower-print wallpaper and old-fashioned four-poster bed. There was a stack of crossword puzzle books on the nightstand and a huge knitting basket beside the bed that looked as if it was filled with every color yarn known to man. Presley searched the two dressers while Logan took the closet. Besides the usual clothes and shoes, there were a ridiculous number of handbags as well as dozens of hat boxes, but he didn’t find anything that looked like it belonged to Del Vecchio. He dug through the knitting basket next but didn’t see anything other than a half-finished sweater. He even looked under the bed, but the place was clean.
“Anything?” he asked Presley.
She closed the last drawer with a shake of her head. “Nothing.”
“Let’s go down to the basement then.”
Logan scanned Joyce Reynolds’ bedroom to make sure they’d left everything the way they’d found it before they headed downstairs.
Logan thought Presley might be uncomfortable going in Del Vecchio’s bedroom, but to his surprise, she nodded. Once they got closer to the basement, she hesitated halfway down the steps.
“You okay?” he asked.
She gave him a wan smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you wait here while I look around?”
“It’s okay. I can help you.”
“You sure?”
She nodded.
Del Vecchio’s bedroom looked like a bastion of sanity compared to Dillon’s Goth-inspired one. If someone had asked Logan to guess which of the rooms belonged to the serial killer, he would have said the younger brother’s without hesitation. Whereas Dillon’s bedroom was dark and macabre, Del Vecchio’s was the complete opposite.
Logan wasn’t surprised when he and Presley didn’t find anything. It wasn’t like Del Vecchio had been planning for his own demise and subsequent ghostly return by leaving pieces of himself behind. If he’d left anything, ghostly related or otherwise, either Mommy Dearest or the cops would already have taken it.
When they finished searching the room, Logan reached into the duffel bag on his shoulder and pulled out his EMF detector.
Presley glanced over her shoulder nervously as she took a step closer to him. “Is Del Vecchio here?”
Logan shook his head. “I just want to see if he was.”
He turned it on and waited, but the needle didn’t move even a little. Del Vecchio hadn’t come back to the house since he’d become a ghost.
Logan swore silently and tossed the detector back in the bag without bothering to turn it off. If Joyce or her son Dillon had kept anything from Del Vecchio, they weren’t keeping it here. Shit. He was no closer to getting rid of the bastard than he was when Presley had first come to him for help.
“Come on,” he said to Presley. “Let’s get out of here.”
Upstairs, Logan did one more quick glance around to make sure they hadn’t disturbed anything, then ushered Presley out the back door. They’d almost made it back to the SUV when the EMF detector in the duffel bag went off. Logan spun around to see Del Vecchio standing behind them, looking more solid than any ghost had a right to look.
Shoving Presley behind him with one hand, Logan reached under his jacket for the sawed-off shotgun with the other. The sight of the weapon was usually enough to make most ghosts hesitate for a minute, but Del Vecchio went straight for Presley like Logan wasn’t even there. Praying Del Vecchio reacted to rock salt and hematite the same as every other ghost he’d encountered, Logan squeezed the trigger. Del Vecchio disappeared with a howl and a flash of light.
Damn, that had been close. Logan didn’t even want to think how much closer Del Vecchio’s ghost would have gotten if he hadn’t le
ft the EMF detector on.
Logan turned to Presley. She was trembling, her face ashen in the light coming from the streetlamp. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, but at the moment it was more important to get her somewhere safe in case Del Vecchio showed up again. Besides, front porch lights were going on all over the neighborhood. Obviously, shotgun blasts weren’t a normal occurrence in this area. In another minute, the place would probably be crawling with cops.
Holding onto the shotgun with one hand, he took Presley’s arm with the other and hustled her into the Hummer, then got in beside her and cranked the engine.
“We don’t have to worry about him getting in here, do we?” she asked anxiously.
Logan shook his head as he pulled away from the curb. “No. The metal will keep him out.”
She nodded, but still look worried. “How the heck did he find me again?”
“I wish to hell I knew.” Logan reached across the console to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “But the important thing is that I blasted him before he could get to you.”
She gave him a weak smile but didn’t say anything. Instead, she stared out the window and chewed nervously on her lower lip.
Logan tightened his grip on the wheel. He hated seeing Presley so frightened but hated even more that he couldn’t figure out a way to rid her world of that serial killing psychopath’s ghost once and for all. There had to be something he was missing, something he wasn’t seeing, but he was damn well going to find it. And when he did, he was going to enjoy sending that asshole Del Vecchio back to hell where he belonged.
* * * * *
By the time they got back to the warehouse, Presley seemed more relaxed. Or at least Logan thought she was. Once they went inside, she immediately headed for the kitchen, muttering something about making tea. Logan wasn’t a big tea drinker, so he assumed Presley must have asked Brielle to pick up some when she went shopping. He frowned when he saw how much Presley’s hand was still shaking as she took out two mugs and set them on the counter.
Dropping his duffel bag on the floor, he walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, gently pulling her against him. “You’re still freaked out about seeing Del Vecchio, aren’t you?”
“A little bit.” She wrapped her arms around his and leaned back against his chest. “I don’t understand how he keeps finding me no matter where I go. I’m as much at his mercy now as I was that night in my apartment when he killed Darla.” She turned in Logan’s arms to look up at him. “What if you can’t find a way to stop him? What if this is never over?”
Logan reached up to gently brush her hair back from her face. “It will be. I’ll find a way to stop him. I promise. But I want you to promise me something, too.”
She eyed him warily. “What?”
“That you’ll stop thinking about Del Vecchio. At least for tonight.”
Her lips curved into a rueful smile. “That’s a lot easier said than done.”
“I kinda figured that. I know something that might help.”
“What’s that?”
“This,” he said, bending his head to kiss her.
Logan only intended to give her a gentle, comforting kiss to make her feel safe so she could curl up on the couch and watch TV without worrying about Del Vecchio while he hit the books. But one taste of those sweet lips and he knew any research would have to wait. The way she was kissing him back made him think she needed him just as much.
Sliding his hands beneath her top, he lifted it over her head. She was wearing a black satin bra under it and he almost groaned when he saw her nipples harden to stiff little peaks against the material. He teased them with the pads of his thumbs, making small circles on the tips before reaching around to undo the clasp of her bra. Her breasts spilled into his waiting hands and he cupped them gently as he bent to take one rosy nipple in his mouth.
Presley caught her breath and buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him tighter to her breast. Knowing she was as excited as he was turned him on even more. He swirled his tongue around each nipple, loving the sounds of pleasure she made. He took his time, moving back and forth from one to the other, doing everything in his power to make her completely forget Del Vecchio ever existed.
As much as Logan loved feasting on her breasts, he needed to be inside her. His erection was already straining against his jeans uncomfortably, demanding to be released. He briefly considered picking her up and taking her into the bedroom, but he wasn’t sure he could make it that far.
Lifting his head, he slid his hands down her tummy to the waistband of her jeans. Tugging at the buttons, he pushed them over her curvy hips along with the tiny, bikini panties she wore until they were at mid-thigh, then he grasped her waist and picked her up so he could set her on the counter. Taking off her sandals, he dragged off her jeans and panties and tossed them on the floor, too.
Logan ran his gaze over Presley’s naked body, mesmerized by her creamy skin and sexy curves. She truly was perfect.
He might have stood transfixed by her nakedness all night if Presley hadn’t reached out and pulled him toward her so she could take off his shirt. Tossing it on the floor, she grabbed him and tugged him close for a kiss.
Logan slid his hands into her hair, groaning as he felt her unbutton his fly. She shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down far enough to free his hard shaft. Wrapping her hand around it, she caressed him up and down. Damn. A few more seconds of that and he was going to come all over her hand.
He dragged his mouth away from hers, breathing ragged. “Don’t move.”
Turning, he raced into the bedroom for a condom, then back into the kitchen so fast, he skidded to a stop in front of her. Rolling on the condom, he cupped her butt and slid her closer to the edge of the counter, then teased her wetness with the head of his cock a few times before plunging inside her with one smooth thrust.
Presley gasped, her arms and legs going around him, pulling him in deep. She was so tight that it was all he could do not to explode on the spot.
Sucking in a ragged breath, he tightened his grip on her ass and slowly thrust. Presley immediately began moving her hips in time with his.
He didn’t rush, but instead, moved with agonizing slowness. It took every ounce of his control to make love to her this way, but he wanted her climax to be perfect.
Apparently, Presley had other ideas because she began to urge him to pick up the pace. “Faster,” she whispered. “Go faster.”
He chuckled as he brushed his mouth against hers. “Not yet. I like seeing you go crazy like this.”
She grinned. “Let’s see who goes crazy first then.”
Presley leaned back to rest her elbows on the counter and slowly rotated her hips in circular motions. She squeezed him with each undulation and he groaned as he fought to control his rising climax. Her lips curved in satisfaction at the sound.
“Who’s driving whom crazy now?”
Logan grunted. “Okay. You win.”
He gave up even trying to hold back anymore. With a grunt, he grabbed her hips tightly and yanked her against him, pounding into her as hard as he could.
“Yes!” she breathed. “Don’t stop.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw as he fought off the tidal wave of ecstasy threatening to push him over the edge. He had to hold out until she came. Just when he was sure he couldn’t control himself any longer, Presley threw back her head and cried out in pleasure.
Free to let the dam inside him burst, Logan finally allowed his orgasm to wash over him. He came so hard he thought his legs might actually give out and he held onto Presley more tightly, burying his face in her neck with a hoarse groan.
No matter how many other women he had sex with after tonight, none of them would ever compare to Presley and how good it was with her. She was definitely one of a kind.
* * * * *
Although Logan was doing his best to hide it, Presley knew he was as worried about Del Vecchio as she was. Making love m
ight have taken her mind off the serial killer’s ghost for a few hours last night, but she wasn’t so sure it had done the same for Logan. After the mind-blowing sex in the kitchen, he’d taken her into the bedroom for an encore that had left her so dizzy with pleasure she could barely even remember her own name. Yet the moment he thought she was asleep, he’d pressed a kiss to her cheek, then slipped out of bed to do more research.
She’d wanted to go sit on the couch beside him while he worked, but knew if she did, he would think he was keeping her up and insist they both go back to bed. So, she’d laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the clicking of the keyboard as he typed one thing after another into the computer. Every time he got up from the couch, she’d think he was coming back to bed, but then she would hear him grab another book from the shelf and knew he would be up for at least a couple more hours.
Presley had been sure she wouldn’t fall asleep until Logan finally came to bed, but she must have dozed off because the next thing she knew it was morning and she was curled up in his arms. She hadn’t even had any nightmares.
She rolled over onto her side to give him a kiss, then propped herself up on an elbow. “What time did you finally come to bed last night?”
“Around two, I guess.” He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t keep you up, did I?”
She shook her head. “Did you learn anything that might help?”
“Maybe. How about I tell you over breakfast? I’m starving.”
Presley considered putting on the tank top and shorts she usually slept in, but she found herself reaching for the sweatshirt Logan had given her to wear that first night and pulling it on instead. He must have approved of her choice in clothing because he gave her bare legs an appreciative look when she padded into the kitchen a few minutes later.
She watched as he cracked an egg into a beat-up plastic mixing bowl. “What are you doing?”