by Trisha Wolfe
Frustration contorts his features. “I remember. I remember so well that I’ve ached for you every second since.”
My eyes close at his admission. Hot desire thrums through my veins, and a pleasurable shiver caresses my skin as his deep voice envelops me. “Why didn’t you tell me your brother owns the club?” I ask, forcing my eyes to open and the haze-inducing lust into a pocket of my brain.
His full lips kick up into a grin. “Always work.”
“There’s a killer out there mutilating women. Yes, I’m focused on my job right now, Colton.”
His eyes slit. “And yet again, you wind up in my presence during your investigation.” As his hands purposely roam up my back, my breathing shallows. He clasps one hand around the nape of my neck. “The simple answer is it never came up.”
“And the not so simple answer?”
His smile fades. “It’s complicated.” He angles my head back farther, his face closing in toward mine. “As exciting as this is, it isn’t a cat and mouse game, goddess. I’m not the man you’re looking for. At least, not in regards to your case.”
With deft movements that take me off-guard, he pushes me up against the hallway wall, his body caging me in. “Do you know how hard it’s been to stay away?” His whispered confession steals over my skin, then his lips are on my neck, my jaw, trailing a blistering path across my flesh. I tip my head back, unable to deny my body what it wants.
Blinking hard, I regain my bearings and press my palms to his chest, inserting necessary distance between us. “Carson’s not investigating you. But if you know anyone associated with the club who might be involved—”
“I don’t.” His movements still. “You and your detective are looking in the wrong place.”
Releasing a pent-up breath, I sigh. “You’re not worried what he might find up there?” Colton lifts his head, and the sudden absence of his mouth leaves my skin cold and missing his touch.
A slow smile curves his lips, meeting the gleam in his eyes. “Thanks to a leak in the department,” he says, sliding a hand between my thighs and eliciting a soft gasp from me, “I know exactly what information he’s looking for, and I know that he won’t find it.” The toe of his boot kicks one of my feet aside, parting my legs, giving him unhindered access to touch me where I ache. “I don’t get shipments from Vienna through the club.”
His thumb applies just enough pressure to my clit to make me writhe against him as his fingers indelicately knead my sensitive flesh. I bite down on my lip, the onslaught of trembles taking hold of my body as a hot, achy throb ignites within my core.
Fighting against the need pulling me under, I say, “Just tell me that your brother has nothing to hide in this club.” My hand goes to Colton’s hair, my back arching to press my body closer to his. At any second, Carson could come around the corner. Could witness me in a compromising situation with a person of interest. That is, as soon as he realizes Colton was also one of the victim’s neighbors.
My body doesn’t care, though. I don’t care—the tender ache pouring through me, yearning for Colton to bind me and take every part of me, screams louder than my integrity or even common sense.
Colton grabs my wrist and anchors my arm to the wall above my head. His palm slides my sleeve back, exposing the link of rope tied there. His eyes snag the ivory material as his thumb dips beneath the coarse rope to rub my sensitized skin.
“This, right here, says you’re mine,” he bites out. He pushes the neck of my shirt off my shoulder, pinning my other arm to my side with the strap of my gun harness. His face close to mine, breath grazing my lips, he says, “You want me to ease your conscience so this is easy for you. I won’t. I told you before that this…between us…is all about trust. You either surrender to it, or you walk away.” But even as he says this, pain flashes in his eyes, mocking his assertion. He can’t walk away any more than I can.
I twist my forearm beneath his hold and force his grip to tighten the rope around my wrist. He looses a low, guttural sound as I physically submit to him.
“Fuck…” he breathes out, pressing his hard want against the seam of my jeans, provoking a throaty moan past my lips. “Your sweet torture is divine, goddess. But my patience is running thin—don’t make me wait any longer. I need to be inside you.” Then his head drops to my bared shoulder. His teeth sink into my skin, and I seal my lips together to stifle a scream.
The pain awakens all my senses, stirring carnal desire in my belly. My craving for him travels to every limb, piquing every nerve. My hips buck, and I wrap a leg around him, forcing his rock-hard erection against my clit.
“We can’t…” I get out around the catch in my throat.
Colton’s rumble of frustration reverberates through my chest as his lips and tongue massage the sting from my shoulder. He pulls away, just enough, so that the sudden release of pressure saturates my underwear. Then his hand is there, slipping between my thighs and caressing the ache away.
“I know you’re wet for me,” he whispers. “I can almost feel you right through your jeans…so fucking wet.” His eyes ensnare mine. “Just one order, goddess, and I’ll make the pain stop.”
My chest pangs with need. All I want is to surrender completely. Close my eyes and be lost to him…but I shake my head, trying to stop this from happening. “I can’t… I can’t be ready. Not yet. Not here.”
He lowers my zipper, sending a tingling thrill to my chest. “Is that your demand?” His fingers push into my pants, and I gasp. “Tell me, goddess. Tell me to please you right now.”
My hands find his hair, my fingers gripping at his black layers as his masculine scent surrounds me, dissolving my will. “Yes,” I manage.
That’s all the consent Colton needs. His fingers plunder lower until they discover my entrance. His middle finger slides into my slit, the heel of his hand already seeking my swollen clit. A hard shiver wracks his body as he swirls the pads of his fingers around my slick lips. “Christ… You’re going to break me.” He rests his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling together as my thighs quiver, then his fingers sink deep inside me.
A blazing current ignites my skin, and I clutch him to me, unable to control the overpowering sensations consuming me. I rock my hips, helping him along—but he knows me. Already attuned to my body and my needs, he locates the spot that sends me over the edge. I feel myself tighten around him, and he groans, dropping his head to my chest. His hand cups one of my breasts as his hot mouth surrounds my nipple through my shirt.
His teeth nip and his tongue flicks, pulling the ache from my core to my lower back, the impending orgasm laying claim to my whole body.
“You’re perfect,” he says, his warm breath touching the cool wetness of my shirt and spiking my blood. He bites down on my nipple just as his fingers pump hard into me, rubbing the swollen mound until I’m trembling in his arms.
His strength supports me as I sag against the wall. His hand presses harder against my clit, claiming me. “Come for me, goddess. Soak me.”
A clipped moan escapes my lips. “Colton…” But the rest of my plea is lost as his lips crash against mine, swallowing my cry. His tongue delves into the hollow of my mouth, and as his lips bruise mine in a crushing kiss, I break against him.
I’m a lightning rod beckoning the flame. I’m devoured by it.
His mouth continues to take me as the aftershocks swell and ebb, flowing through and over my body.
Removing his hand from my pants, he breaks away only to grasp the backs of my thighs and lift me up against the wall. His labored breaths brush my mouth as he drives his cock against my throbbing center, a harsh curse expelling through his gritted teeth. “You make me an animal. I’m fucking going out of my mind.”
All sense of reality and where we are is a distant memory. My desire is already building again; the feel of his desire grinding against me has me pulling him closer. My hands fumble until I’ve successfully yanked the back of his shirt up and I touch his hot flesh. The tight, corded m
uscles of his back move beneath my palms as my fingers dig into his skin, seeking purchase.
He mimics my need, his hand sliding beneath my shirt and pushing my bra up to palm my breast. As the adrenaline surges, a small voice in the back of my head is trying to be heard over the roar of emotions. Its whispered threat says I should stop. No one touches me. I’m filthy. And as his fingers graze the scar along my collarbone, the pressing fear surges to life; becomes a tangible entity.
I grip him to me harder. Past the fear and pain and torment. This is the only man to ever push me past my comfort zone, beyond my limits, and bring me back. I’m bound to him.
The echo of laughter reaches my ears, and Colton’s movements halt. Lifting his intense gaze to mine, he utters a curse before his lips taste mine once more, then he forcefully pulls away. Panicked, I quickly rearrange my bra and hike my pants, zipping them closed as Colton heaves strenuous breaths just inches from me.
He reaches down to adjust the straining bulge in his jeans, then turns and braces his hands against the opposite wall. I watch the rise and fall of his back as he visibly struggles to calm himself.
Shaken but gaining equilibrium, I take an uneven step in the direction of the main room.
“Get rid of him.”
Almost composed, I whirl around to face Colton. “How? I can’t—”
“You keep saying that, but we’ve proven the exact opposite, haven’t we? Get rid of him, or I will.” The determined, hungry glint in his pale blues conveys the absolute urgency of our situation. Tension radiates off him at high volume, crashing against me and expressing his need. I nearly wilt under the intensity of it.
If we were alone—right now—Colton wouldn’t hold back. As delicate as he’s been with me thus far, giving me time to…acclimate, he’s beyond that now. The imagery flashing before my eyes of what he would do to my body in his state thrills me as much as it terrifies me.
“Agent Bonds.”
Carson’s curious tone pulls me out of the seductive trance, and I turn to acknowledge him. “Did you get what you were looking for?”
Eyebrows drawn together, he nods. “I did. But I just have a couple more questions for Colton, then we can—” A sequence of beeps triggers from his phone at the same time mine vibrates.
I unclip my cell from my harness and swipe open the alert.
Quinn: 187 TRM, beneath the bridge. Immediate response.
“Hell,” Carson says under his breath. His wide, brown eyes meet mine. “Let’s wrap this up.”
And I know—I’m not staying with Colton. Selfishly, I despise my role in this moment, but my calling has to come first. Always. I glance over and find Colton’s gaze already on me, a knowing, resolute look creasing the corners of his eyes.
He nods to me, then levels Carson with a firm glare. “I assume I’ve provided all the answers you need. So what else can I do to help the ACPD, detective?”
Removing the photos of the four victims from his leather folio, Carson lines them up side-by-side on a table. “To your knowledge, have any of these women ever been to this club?”
Colton moves to stand over the close-up images of the women’s faces. “Three of them.”
A sick jolt kicks my stomach.
“Three of them?” Carson repeats, stepping closer to Colton’s side. “Which three?”
Spreading his fingers wide—the same fingers that were just inside me—Colton taps the three on the right, excluding the first victim from the lineup. “I don’t know their names, but I’ve seen them here at least a couple of times.”
Carson motions to the spiral staircase. “Can we—?”
“No,” Colton says, stopping the detective’s inquiry. “Even if most clients didn’t pay with cash to protect their privacy, that’s what we’re here for. You cannot have access to member accounts.”
I reach down and start collecting the photos. “We’re done here.” Handing them over to Carson, I make sure he understands my tone. “We’re up against a warrant.”
He nods, then slips the images back into his folio. “Thanks for your time and cooperation, Mr. Reed…correction, Colton.”
Leaving before he encounters further resistance, Carson exits into the entrance hallway where he meets Lilly Anne and proceeds to show her the images. I feel Colton’s hand on the small of my back.
He guides me toward the side of the entrance, just out of eyeshot, and whispers near my ear, “I need to see you. Tonight.”
It rings more like a warning than a promise. My back tenses. “You failed to mention the victims were members.”
“First, I’m not your informant. This is your case, not mine.” His thumb hooks into the back of my jeans, pulling me to a stop. His chest presses close to my back. “Second, the identities of the other victims were never made public. It’s more than just a little unnerving for me to discover they were members. So stop trying to catch me in some kind of lie. I’m not working against you, Sadie.”
This is true; the victims haven’t been released to the media yet. There was no catch in his voice, no hitch in his breathing when he delivered his response. I want to shutoff the behaviorist when I’m with Colton, but it’s difficult when his connection to the victims piques my defenses.
The victims were here at some point, and the club very well could be their link to the killer. Besides the first vic, it’s the only common denominator they share so far.
The common denominator they share with me.
My insides burn with anger. I’m doing everything within my power to lead this case away from Colton, but despite my efforts, the trail continues to intersect with his path. What’s more, at every turn, the UNSUB is pulling me more and more into his scheme.
I turn to face Colton, and his arm stays firmly in place around my waist. “The killer contacted me.” The words blurt from my mouth before I can stop them. But if Colton knows anything, anything at all that could help me shed light on who is fucking with me, I need that information now.
His eyes widen, hard gaze drilling right back into mine. “What?”
The accusation hangs heavy in the air between us. I’ve accused him of omitting pertinent information from me, when I’ve done just that to him.
I lift my chin. “There’s no time to discuss this, Colton—”
“Make time.”
With a tense exhale, I say, “The killer either knows me personally, or thinks he knows me personally. Either way, the crime scenes have been targeting me. If the killer could be a member…or if a member could possibly identify him based on the profile…I need to know.”
His lips press into a hard line. “And you’re just now telling me this. You’ve been out there, away from me for a week, and…” he trails off, looks away. “Go straight home and wait for me there.”
I balk, breaking out of his hold. “That’s not going to happen. There’s been another murder.”
“So you’re going to go right where he wants you?” The fury in his voice gives way to his desperation. He drags a hand over his face, and his eyes pin me with a fierce stare. “Don’t go.”
I may always have reservations when it comes to Colton. Whether they’re based off of my own twisted insecurities or fact, they’re present, and they may never have a chance to evolve into the trust we both desire so badly. But right now, in this moment, it’s the first time I feel that anything between us could become real.
“I have to go,” I say. “It’s not just about my job. I won’t let anyone, ever again, dictate my actions.” I step closer and take his hand in mine. “And you’re right; you’re not my informant, but I’m asking you to do something that I can’t. Not to get involved…I won’t have you in danger, but you have access to information the department doesn’t.”
“Shit.” Looking down at our hands, he laces his fingers through mine. “You’re asking for a lot, goddess. Not that I’m unwilling, you know you only have to ask—” he looks up and brushes the backs of his fingers across my cheek “—but I wish you’d let me in. Con
fide in me what happened to you.”
I swallow hard. “Eventually.”
Which is more than I can offer anyone. He accepts that for what it is, and says, “Stay with me. We’ll get whatever it is you need, but do it here. Or hell, somewhere else, but don’t go.” His stony blue eyes plead.
“I’ll contact you later.”
Releasing his hand, I step away and rush through the exit before Colton can convince me otherwise. The fear in his voice just made this situation all the more real, and I desperately need the security of routine to comfort me right now.
As I step onto the sidewalk, the sound of something breaking from inside the club crashes through my resolve.
Carson stands by the car, door open. “Everything all right?”
I don’t look back at The Lair. “I hate surprises, Carson. And I really hate underhanded tactics. Unless you want my wrath coming down on you your first week, you won’t pull a fucking stunt like that again.”
To Whom It May Concern:
Colton
The white gauze covering my knuckles turns a bright red as blood seeps past the thin threads. I pump my hand a couple of times, letting the blood flow, watching the shade deepen.
Julian will be pissed about the mirror. And the barstool that crashed into the mirror—and then my fist—but he’ll get over it once I tell him what we’re up against. That will take precedence over everything. Even his engagement.
Once Sadie starts digging, she’ll uncover the truth.
And her fucking job—so black and white. She won’t see the gray—the pain, the destruction, the inevitable; she will be forced to do her job, and those will be the very words slung at me. Once I witness that look of disgust in her eyes…there will be no reasoning.
Maybe it’s time. I’ve carried the weight for nearly two years, and it’s been a festering black hole threatening to implode and swallow me for just as long.