Mississippi King

by Celia Aaron

  Her eyes watered, but I couldn’t tell if it was from coughing or fighting. She took my hand, and I sat next to her.

  “I’m just so afraid.” Her voice softened. “Losing you. I couldn’t bear—” Her voice broke, and a piece of me broke with it.

  “You aren’t going to lose me.” I squeezed her hand. “I promise.”

  “You can’t promise that, Belly.”

  “I can. I’m not going to put myself in danger. But I am going to solve this case. I’m close, Mom. So close. I need a little more time, a lot more coffee, and just one break.”

  “You need rest.”

  I gave her hand another squeeze and rose. “Not tonight. I’m almost there.”

  She leaned back, her breathing calming. “You always were a stubborn little devil.”

  “Some things don’t change.”

  “They sure don’t, since Vivi’s just like you. Maybe even worse. Though you’re a hard one to top.”

  I walked to the door and shrugged on my coat. “I love you too, Mom.”

  I rubbed my eyes as the time ticked over into the a.m. Papers were spread all over the conference table, and the whiteboard was covered with data on properties, transactions, business fronts, and a host of other dirty dealings.

  Instead of Judge Ingles at the center of the web, I’d changed it to BRLC, LLC. That was the most recent shell corporation that had been used to purchase several large tracts of land in the county.

  “Here’s another.” Charlotte held up a document. “The two hundred acres near the Tillman farm. Sold by CLRB to BRLC just six months ago for a high sum, along with another phony cashier’s check drawn on a bank that doesn’t exist. But it was all cash. Just like all the rest. Judge Ingles signed off on the sale as judge of probate and recorded it in the county records to hide it in plain sight.”

  “How many times has it changed hands?”

  “This is the…” She counted up tally marks on her legal pad. “Fifteenth time in the past three years.”

  Porter snored lightly at the table, his forehead resting on his arms. His job had been to crack the password on the laptop we’d found. He gave up after about ten minutes, played on his phone, then promptly fell asleep while pretending he was studying some papers.

  Over the past hours, the rest of us had discovered a vast scheme to launder money by buying and selling county properties over and over again, from one shell corporation to the next. Randall King prepared the paperwork, Judge Ingles signed off on the transfers, and the money changed hands without anyone raising an eyebrow. Millions of dollars had been funneled through these transactions, all unbeknownst to anyone except the few who were in on it. But we couldn’t pinpoint the organization behind it. Only that whoever, or whatever, it was, started with a ‘C.’ Charlotte’s cursory research on her laptop turned up a Colletti syndicate that ran game up and down the New Jersey coast. An outfit of career criminals, drug dealers, and illegal gambling rings—they were our prime suspect.

  The Colletti Family was on the board with a big question mark. I finished writing the code from Benton’s business card—the one I’d found in Letty’s hand—on the board beside it. Another snippet whose relevance floated just out of reach. Strain ached along my shoulders and down my back. I needed a break. We all did.

  I capped the marker. “I’m going for some air. Let’s all take a break.”

  Charlotte grunted and continued poring over a sheaf of documents.

  Benton rose and stretched. “I could use a reprieve, if only for a minute.”

  “Don’t go far. Killer on the loose and all that.” Charlotte waved a document at us as we left her to it.

  I reached over my head, trying to ease the tension in my shoulders.

  “I’d offer you a massage, but that would be pervy and all.” Benton shot me a smile, though his eyes wore the same tired look mine did.

  It didn’t sound pervy at all. Heavenly? Yes. But I couldn’t go there with him. I’d already gone too far with that kiss. My heart kicked up a notch at the memory, tiny electrical currents firing along my skin. Where had he learned to kiss like that?

  “What are you thinking?” He pinned me with his gaze.

  The heat in my face jumped to four-alarm fire status. “About the case.”

  “Mmmhmm.” He pushed open the door ahead of us. It led into a small courtyard—the only smoking area at the police station—that was sheltered from view.

  The brisk air should have been refreshing. Instead, I sank onto the nearest concrete bench, too many worries eating away at me.

  Benton sat next to me, and when he put his arm around my shoulders, I didn’t shrug him off. He was warm, smelled good despite our long day, and had a habit of giving me what I needed right when I needed it. Like that moment.

  “Did Vivi miss me, at least?”

  I snorted. “She gave me hell. Wants to see you in the morning, in her office, bright and early.”

  He laughed. “She’s a real hard-ass, that one.”

  “I know.” I leaned against him and rested my head on his shoulder. Whatever propriety I had was gone, collapsed under the load of needing human comfort—and needing it from one person in particular.

  He kissed my hair. I closed my eyes.

  “We’re going to solve this.” His warm breath tickled along my scalp. “I promise.”

  I wanted to believe him. But I was a small-town cop with no resources. Porter’s men were spread out across the county, but there was too much area to cover. The man with the light eyes had slipped through my fingers, just like Judge Ingles.

  “We know what’s going on now. We know who was involved.”

  “It had to be a chunk of money. That’s what your father had in the safe.” I chewed my lip. “Well, what he was supposed to have in the safe.”

  “Agree.” He wrapped his other arm around me, pulling me against his chest.

  God, he smelled good. The only man I got this close to was Logan, and he always reeked of tobacco, whiskey, and a late night at the bar.

  “We’ll find the money.”

  “Then what?” I’d been asking myself that question ever since I formed the theory on the money laundering. Would the man with the light eyes stop if I found it before he did? Or would he come after it, no matter what?

  “Hookers and blow?”

  I laughed, the sound rising from deep in my belly. Pulling back, I looked up at him.

  His smile was gorgeous, lighting up his eyes. His gaze flicked to my lips. “I didn’t ask last time, but would you mind if I—”

  “Kiss me.”

  His lips were sudden, firm but not rough. I let myself have this little piece of delight in the midst of darkness. Opening my mouth, I relished his tongue as it swept inside. Each caress, each touch between us had me clutching him tighter. Then I ran one hand through his hair, mussing it and sifting through the soft strands.

  He groaned, the sound tickling against my lips as he slanted his mouth over mine. I was hungry for him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulled me into his lap. One large palm on my hip, he ran the other through my hair, his fingertips teasing the base of my neck. Warm, attentive, and spine-tingling—all words I wouldn’t have associated with him when we met. But now, he was all those things to me and more.

  Goosebumps raced across my skin as his fingers edged beneath my shirt, the soft pads of his fingers grazing along my waist. Such a simple touch, it wound the coil of delicious tension inside me even tighter. I wanted to feel all of him, run my hands along his perfect jaw and find out what he looked like shirtless…and pants-less. Wicked thoughts, too many to count, filled my headspace.

  He broke the kiss, and I took a gulp of cold air as he trailed his lips down my neck. I gripped his shoulders, holding on while he moved his hand fully under my shirt, his fingers spread along my side. The heat from his hand warmed me everywhere until I wriggled on his lap, his lips pressed to the skin at my open collar.

  “If you keep doing that…” His voice was
polished marble.

  I wriggled again, his hard length apparent beneath my thigh. “Inside, first room on the right.”

  He bolted up, me in his arms and dashed to the door. “Fuck!” He opened it, then accidentally kicked it shut, then opened it again.

  I laughed as he barreled into the evidence room, a couple of desks in the front, and all the evidence locked in a separate area behind them.

  “Here?” He glanced around.

  “It’s all I have, but if you’d rather wait—”

  He claimed my lips again as he set me on the closest desk, a log book falling flat on the floor and a few pens rolling away. His hands were at my chest, the buttons of my top undone in record time. I yanked his shirt free from his pants and didn’t bother with buttons. Running my hands beneath his shirt, I explored his stomach, his chest, the hard planes of his body.

  “Fuck.” He bit my neck, then lowered his mouth to my breast. With a quick pull, he displaced the cup, my hard nipple popping free.

  I moaned as his warm mouth encircled it, his hands going to my waist and unbuttoning my pants. Running my hands through his hair, I threw my head back as he feasted on me, each touch another shot of jet fuel on the fire. Pulling my bra the rest of the way down, he cupped my other breast, giving it the same attention and heightening my desire.

  With undeniable haste, I scrabbled at his fly. I popped the button, then unzipped his pants. When my hand brushed against his hard length, he groaned against my breast. Reaching inside his boxers, my fingers couldn’t close around him.

  He straightened, pressing me to him with one hand while using the other to shuck my jeans. I kicked them off, my shoes dropping to the floor, until I wore only my bra and panties. With a steady grip, he pulled my panties down my thighs, his eyes on mine as he knelt and eased them all the way off.

  Standing again, he looked at me with an intensity that sent my heart into a frenzied pace. Like a rabbit being chased, I couldn’t slow this down. There was no time-out, nothing that could stop us.

  “Benton.” I spread my legs wide.

  He gripped my ass and yanked me to the edge of the desk, his cock pressing against my slick core. “Damn, Arabella. Just damn.” He rubbed his cock against me, his lips finding mine again as my clit began to buzz with each stroke from him.

  I bit his lower lip, then pulled back, my hand on his cheek. “I-I haven’t done this in a long time.” God, it was embarrassing to hear it out loud.

  “Neither have I.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Years, honestly.”

  His confession soothed the rough edges of my heart. “You think we remember how?” I smiled and brushed my lips against his.

  “I stick it in your belly button, right?”

  I laughed, the worry rolling away from me like ocean waves. “Just when I think I have you figured out, you hit me with something new.”

  He pressed his thumb beneath my chin gently, tilting my face up to his. “I hope you like what you find.”

  The vulnerability in his eyes matched my own. I moved my hips, rubbing my slick folds against him. “So far, so good.”

  “Shit,” he hissed, one hand going to my hair, the other gripping my hip. “Let’s see if I can’t surprise you a little more.”

  I arched my back and spread my legs wide, every part of me desperate to feel him moving inside me. “Give it your best shot.”

  He reached down and positioned himself at my entrance. With a push, his head eased inside.

  I gasped as a ripple of delicious sensation coursed through me. “More.”

  He pushed again, his thick cock hitting me in all the right places, but our bodies still weren’t flush. God, there was more. “I need to see you.” I yanked at his shirt.

  He reached behind his head, grabbed the shirt, and pulled it over. The broad expanse of his chest, the center dusted with dark hair, was made for my mouth. I leaned up and nipped at him above his nipple.

  “Christ!” He surged the rest of the way inside me. “Are you all right?” He stilled.

  It pinched, but that quickly subsided. I reached behind me and unclasped my bra. He pressed me to him, one strong arm around my back, the other at my hip. With a smooth movement, he pulled out, then moved back in.

  I gasped and clung to him. “More.”

  Another thrust, then another, and then more. Skin on skin the wet sounds from between my thighs were loud in the small room. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he filled me again and again, our bodies working in unison. He couldn’t keep his lips off me, his kiss saturating me with warmth as his body propelled me into a frenzy of need.

  My hips worked with him, grinding my clit against him with each stroke. His fingers dug into my hips, likely leaving bruises. I didn’t care, just as long as he didn’t stop. I chased my release, my tongue tangled with his, my hard nipples brushing against his chest. Each slap of skin heightened my arousal until I was near the precipice.

  “I’m close,” I breathed. Spreading wider, I increased the friction between us.

  He thrust harder. “I want to feel you coming around my cock.”

  I think my eyes rolled back in my head as he sucked the skin along my throat. “I’m—” The orgasm rushed through me, toppling anything I’d ever felt before. I couldn’t think, could barely breathe, as everything inside me constricted and then burst outward. Each wave of pleasure rolled into the next. I must have been loud, because Benton pressed his palm over my mouth, his cock still working me relentlessly as I squeezed him.

  “It’s too good.” He pulled out. Hot spurts of come coated my stomach as his cock jerked against me. The illicit sight added to my pleasure, my orgasm rolling a few more times before subsiding into pleasant aftershocks.

  He rested his palms on the desk next to me, sweat sticking dark hair to his forehead. I ran my hand through it, pushing it back.

  “Sorry I couldn’t hold it.” He looked at me from under his eyebrows.

  “You were perfect.”

  “No, you.” He dipped his head down and nuzzled my breasts. “So beautiful when you come. Beautiful all the time, really.”

  He’d already melted my body into a puddle, and he seemed to be going for my heart.

  He straightened and glanced at my stomach. “Let me, um—” He turned and gave me a view of his toned ass. “Find you some tissues.”

  “Look in the bottom left drawer.” I pointed to the other desk as he pulled up his pants and obscured my view.

  “Got it.” He came back with a box of cheap tissues, but they’d do the job.

  Once I was cleaned up, we both got dressed. Unspoken words piled up between us like layers of snow as we pulled on our clothes and righted ourselves.

  I reached for the door handle, but he pulled me back.

  “Hey.” He brushed my hair behind my ears. “I don’t know what that meant to you. And I don’t want to pressure you.” He brushed his thumb along my cheek. “But I want more. Do with that what you will.” He placed a soft kiss on my lips, then opened the door for me.

  I had to get away from him before my heart turned to goo, and made a mistake like telling him that I wanted more, too. Stepping into the hall, I stumbled into someone’s back.

  Logan turned around, an orthopedic boot on his leg. “There you are. I’ve been looking—”

  I knew the exact moment he looked behind me and saw Benton, because that’s when everything went to hell.

  29

  Benton

  For a guy with a gunshot wound, Logan could move damn fast. He careened toward me, one fist shooting out blindly toward my face.

  I ducked back. “Whoa!”

  “Logan!” Arabella grabbed the back of his shirt. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m going to rip this motherfucker apart. That’s what I’m doing.” He powered forward, rage twisting his haggard face.

  Easily feinting to his left, I avoided his swings. I could have knocked him flat with a simple sweep of his bad leg, but I wasn’t that guy.r />
  “Let go, Arabella.” He stopped, breathing heavily.

  “Not until you stop acting like a lunatic.”

  “You let this asshole touch you.” He turned toward her with a wobble. “This asshole who thinks you aren’t good enough to lick his shoe.”

  “What I do is none of your business, Logan.” Her tone sliced through the air like a knife.

  “He doesn’t give a shit about you. He’s just another rich douche bag who thinks—”

  “I’m done talking about this.” Arabella crossed her arms over her stomach. “And if you’re done with this macho pissing contest, we have work to do.” She turned on her heel and strode down the hall.

  Logan pinned me with a glare. I returned it, though I didn’t make a move toward him. It would have been gratifying to beat him senseless, but it would piss Arabella off, and I figured it was best that I left that up to Logan.

  He jabbed his finger at me. “You aren’t fooling me, college boy.”

  “I haven’t been in college for a decade. You need new material.” I brushed past him, giving him a little more shoulder than necessary.

  He stayed upright, and his clunky steps echoed behind me as I followed Arabella to the conference room.

  She was already back at the board, the marker in her hand. I yanked my chair out and sat, the movement waking Porter from his nap.

  “What’d I miss?” He stretched and yawned.

  I didn’t respond. I was too busy unpacking what had just happened between Arabella and me. Just the memory of her on that desk had blood rushing to parts south. I shifted in my seat and tried to get a handle on the tangle of emotions inside me. Logic tried to have its say, reminding me that I was in the midst of a stressful and traumatic situation, which could be the reason for my unexpected feelings for Arabella. But that reasoning was hollow. There was something far deeper that resonated between us.