No Time for Goodbye

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No Time for Goodbye Page 13

by Marion Myles


  “Is this an official visit?” she asked at last.

  His head snapped up. “No. It’s just me coming to see you.”

  Blowing out a breath, she turned and opened the screen door at her back. “Come in then.” She didn’t wait for him but continued across the sunroom and pushed through the front door where the dogs waited in breathless anticipation. They threw themselves at her.

  When Roman brushed by, Layla broke away and went to him. He lowered to the floor and patted the golden lab, his hand running nose to tail in long, smooth strokes. She positively preened at him.

  “You’re a good dog, aren’t you?” he said. She pushed into him, licking his face, and he smiled briefly. Then holding her head still, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Such a good girl. Best dog in the world.”

  She wiggled, her tongue darting out to his neck, and he turned his head and looked at Mia. “They identified the remains. Anita’s hyoid bone was broken. She was strangled exactly like you said. There are a million tests to be done. We don’t have an exact timeline yet, but anyone can tell she’s been in the ground for a long time.”

  Mia nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on his face. “I’m sorry, Roman. It’s awful. Your poor family.”

  “Yeah. It sucks.” Gently, he pushed Layla away and struggled to his feet. “I wanted to explain about the other night in the police station. It’s because of…well, department policies and—”

  “I know,” she said and reaching out, brushed her fingertips down his arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl. I understand how the world works. Your life has got to be a nightmare right now. You shouldn’t have come all the way out here to tell me that.”

  “I wanted to see you.” Moving toward her until they were only inches apart, he blinked down at her. “I could really use a distraction right now.”

  There was no way she could block out his mental energy anymore. It was pouring off him like Niagara Falls. Unable to blunt the anger and grief and sense of utter helplessness, he was crying out for something to hang onto…someone to bring him back to himself. He wanted it to be her. She wanted him too. So badly. Yet, she could also hear the chanting voice in the back of her mind to get him out of here.

  Closing her eyes, she pushed his energy away and got as still as she could inside. With mind clear, she knew there was no real decision to be made. She’d already chosen her path when she’d let him in the house tonight.

  Opening her eyes again, she stepped closer to him. She framed his face with her hands and stood on tiptoes until her mouth met his. He didn’t react at first, simply remained still as a statue while she breathed against his mouth. Lowering her arms, she wrapped them around his broad shoulders.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

  His chest heaved, and he pushed his body up against hers while his hands grasped her hips and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he turned, mating his mouth to hers in a hard, desperate kiss. Somehow, they were at the couch, and he lowered back onto it, keeping her tight in his arms.

  Mia pushed fully into his mind. So much sorrow. But as she ran her hands through his hair, as she stroked down the back of his neck, she felt the change. He was letting himself sink into the moment and with that came some relief from the despair.

  She could do more, give more. He’d come to her for comfort, and in her whole life, no one ever had.

  Wriggling free and pushing back slightly, she started unbuttoning her shirt. He watched while she pulled the fabric apart and slid it down her arms until she sat on his lap in a simple white cotton bra. Reaching down, she took his hands and placed them on her breasts.

  “Go on,” she said. “Take what you need.”

  His eyes came to hers, dark and full of grief. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She thought he would dive in. Indeed, all she could hear in his mind was the unrelenting chant for physical release, but he kissed her softly, almost reverently, while fingertips traced the edge of her bra and slowly, so slowly, drew the straps down over her shoulders. She changed angles, deepening the kiss, and struggled to reach behind her back before finally managing to unclasp the bra.

  Still, he held it in place. Cupping his hands, the fabric caught between his palms and her breasts. He kneaded with mounting arousal until she shifted and pulled the bra free. Even then he took his time, gazing down at her naked torso before slowly reaching out with his right hand to play his fingers across her nipples.

  She moaned and arched her back. It had been so long since anyone had touched her. So long since she’d let herself go. When he leaned down and brought his mouth to her breast, the bolt of heat arrowed straight to her groin. His teeth closed around the nipple, and his tongue darted out, fluttering across the peak. She couldn’t contain the sensation and flexing her hips, ground against his leg in rhythmic strokes.

  “Oh, yes,” she groaned.

  His lips latched onto her neck, nipping and sucking, while his hands took possession of her breasts again. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe. The sensations he brought to her were overpowering, stronger than a gale force wind, and she was being swept along.

  Rather than resisting, she tried to race ahead, determined to catch the front of the storm. All thoughts of giving comfort were wiped clean out of her mind to be replaced by the driving drumbeat to mate, to join her body with his as though her very survival depended on it.

  She found herself unable to maintain her usual detachment. Everything meshed together in her mind. She registered each touch of his fingers, every flutter of warm breath across her skin. His feelings and thoughts bled into her and mixed with her own needs.

  When she tried to block out the emotions, she simply couldn’t do it. It was as though every line of defense she’d painstakingly built up over a lifetime had been stripped away, and she was laid open, vulnerable, and unable to protect herself.

  Yet, even though a part of her whispered to claw back the control, she didn’t want to. Her body responded in a way it never had before, the nerve-endings honed to a paper-thin response with the corresponding waves of pleasure spreading and multiplying lightning fast.

  Couldn’t she let herself have this? Was it so wrong to want to connect with someone even for a few moments? She was human, after all, and this was a basic human need. Later she could worry about taking back the control.

  She spread her knees and pressed down until she felt the hard ridge beneath her. Oh, yes, this was what she wanted. Working herself against him, she braced her hands on his shoulders, and he drew her in to his chest, arms clamping around her back. When she felt the waves crashing closer and closer together, she forced herself to slow the pace.

  He lifted his head. “What’s wrong? You don’t have to stop.”

  “I want you naked,” she said, unsnapping the button of his jeans.

  He rested his forehead against hers. “Fair’s fair. I want you naked too.”

  With that, he lifted her and swung her around until she stood beside the couch. Before she could so much as blink down at him, her yoga pants and panties were on the floor. She stepped out of them while he kicked off his shoes and then standing beside her, stripped away his jeans and boxers.

  His shirt remained, so she reached out and grabbed the hem, pushing it up his chest. Obediently, he raised his arms, and she lifted it over his head, letting him deal with untangling himself.

  Roman’s bicep flexed when he bent his arm to toss the shirt away, and she brushed her fingers over the cut of muscle. His chest was a masterpiece of the male form, broad and muscular, with a sprinkling of dark hair across the pecs. She loved the way everything angled down to his flat stomach with the ripple of well-defined ab muscles.

  Taking her hand and pulling her to him until they were center to center, he stroked up and down her back. “I wasn’t expecting…I didn’t think to bring anything…protection, I mean.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I have condoms. Let’s take it to the bedroom.�
��

  “Thank God,” he breathed against her neck. “I was prepared to be totally cool about it, but if I can’t have you right now, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from the disappointment.”

  When he laid her out on the bed, when he finally pushed into her, she couldn’t ever imagine why she’d considered denying herself. Her body stretched around him, almost painfully at first, but soon turning to breathtaking pleasure. The heat of him both deep inside and along her thighs and chest where he covered her, gave her a sense of completeness. A sense of belonging.

  Waves of liquid ecstasy washed over her, building, building, until she went up and over the peak, shattering on the other side. With heart hammering and heat turning her body to molten ash, there was nothing else in the world but Roman. His body thrust hard and deep, his hands linked with hers above her head, and his eyes laser-focused on her face.

  Reaching out with her mind, she realized his release was right there waiting for him, but he held back, slowing, changing angles, and forcing it away time and again. His control was a thing of beauty.

  Understanding he was doing it for her, she let herself sink back into the sensations, let herself savor the slap of flesh upon flesh, and the way he pressed down and rocked sensuously forward and back, enjoyed the delicious friction.

  Her next orgasm built like a gently rolling sea, wave upon wave layering softly until the focus of her entire body was a single, throbbing nerve. When everything in her screamed for relief, she worked her hands free. Reaching up, she framed his face.

  “I’m with you,” she gasped. “It’s time to let go now. Please, let yourself go.”

  Stilling briefly, he brought his forehead to hers while his eyes fluttered closed for several seconds. Then he reared up, and his hands came under her hips, lifting her. He drove into her again and again, his teeth fixed on his lower lip while his breath hissed out with every thrust. She lost herself, shuddering, crying out, her fingers scraping along his arms while her climax spun on and on until there was nothing left of her.

  Briefly, she registered Roman push into her one last time. Holding himself deep, he groaned out a release before collapsing onto her chest. He pinned her to the mattress, his chest heaving and the stubble on his cheek rasping against her shoulder.

  Mia could have stayed that way forever. She felt safe and sated and insanely alive. Gently pulling his hair, weaving her fingers through the dense, dark strands, she allowed herself to drift. When Roman cleared his throat and shifted to roll to his side, she had to stop herself from pulling him back.

  His eyes were sleepy and so satisfied. “How you doing?”

  “I’m pretty frickin fantastic.”

  “Yeah, I think I might have seen God.”

  “Me too. Plus, all the Apostles and maybe an archangel or two.”

  He ran a finger up and down the side of her neck before leaning in and kissing her cheek. “Thank you.”

  She laughed. “You’re quite welcome. Though I think it was a two-person operation, so I can’t take all the credit.”

  “You know what I mean. Even if it was pity sex, I’m happy to take it.”

  She punched his shoulder. “I don’t do pity sex. And besides, this was a one-time only thing. I’m sure your lieutenant wouldn’t be too happy knowing you’re in my bed. Don’t worry. I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

  He stilled, and his eyes turned to slits while he studied her. “The only reason you slept with me is that you think it’s a one-off?”

  Swinging her legs over the bed, she shifted into sitting position. She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a smug smile. “That’s right, Mr. Law and Order. Now, can I get you anything to eat before you head out? I’m sure you don’t want to hang around too long in case anyone happens to see your car here.”

  He collapsed back onto the bed with a grunt. “You think you’ve got this all figured out, don’t you? Well, Miss Smarty Pants, they’re going to clear you before too long and then it won’t matter so much. As for my car, you live outside of town, and your driveway is as long as the Amazon River so nobody’s seeing anything. And no, thanks, I’m not hungry. I could go for a beer though.”

  “A beer I can do,” she said, pushing to her feet.

  “You know,” he said a few moments later, setting his beer on the kitchen counter and swiveling his stool to face Mia, “I don’t think they’ve found a damned thing to help us get Anita’s killer. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he lopped off a bunch of his hair to bury with her or something. But even still, unless he’s already in the system, we won’t be able to find him.”

  Mia sighed and dropping her head in her hands, squeezed her temples. “I’m still not getting anything on him, just a blank guy. He could be anyone.”

  “Except you said Anita knew him,” Roman pointed out.

  “Okay, he could be any guy she ever met.”

  “See, that narrows it down a whole bunch. All we need is a starting point. There has to be something to send us in the right direction.”

  Mia pushed to her feet and wandered over to the window. She stood looking into the darkness until Mac nudged her hand with his head.

  “I do have an idea,” she said, stooping to rub Mac’s ears. “It’s maybe not the best idea, but it might help me see something.”

  Picking up his beer bottle, he pointed it at her. “I’m up for anything you think will get us this guy.”

  Straightening up again, Mia blew out a breath. “I think I need to touch Anita.”

  Roman’s arm stalled with the bottle partway to his mouth. Setting it back down, he stared at her before slowly nodding his head several times. “You mean her bones? Yeah, that makes sense. It’s kinda creepy, but it makes total sense. I think I can make that happen. Can you come to the station?”

  “Okay. When?”

  His fingers tapped against his mouth. “Um…they’re pretty much done processing her remains. Later tomorrow. How about I text you when we’re in the clear. And Mia, I think this is something we should keep to ourselves. If anyone asks what you’re doing at the station, tell them you’re wondering how the investigation is going or something like that. Okay?”

  “Sure, no problem. How is your family doing?”

  “So-so. Ma’s acting tough, but I can see it’s ripping her apart inside. Dad’s barely saying anything. I swear he aged ten years overnight. Lina’s out for blood as you might expect, but it’s Tony I’m most worried about. He’s a total mess. I guess I should go talk to him.” He checked his watch. “Too late to go now. I’ll swing by in the morning on my way to work.”

  “Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  He reached across and placed his hand on her arm. “You’ve already done it. Thank you. I’m glad we’ve found Anita. It helps. More than you can know but…”

  “You won’t be at peace until you catch her killer,” Mia finished the sentence for him. “Once again, I can’t promise anything, but I’m really hoping I’ll get something from her tomorrow. If Anita left such a strong echo in the park, it would stand to reason having direct contact with her should net us something good.”

  “One can hope,” he said, squeezing her arm. “All right, I’m off.”

  He clambered to his feet, and she followed suit. She gazed at him for several seconds. “Thanks for stopping by,” she said at last.

  His smile was brilliant against his weary, grief-stricken face. “You’re completely welcome. Seriously, though, thanks for being here.”

  He eased closer to her and without warning laid his lips against hers. The kiss was hot and possessive, and her heart hammered in response.

  “My sister’s murder may have brought us together, but there’s more than that between us. I wouldn’t feel what I do if it was only flat-out proximity and circumstances,” he said, drawing back.

  She frowned, her eyebrows creasing together. “Stop. Don’t say things like that.”

  When she tried to step back, he grabbed her shoulder and kisse
d her again…this time soft and dreamy. “Good night, Mia.”

  “Good night. I’ll wait to hear from you about the…about coming to the station.”

  The dogs roused from their various places of slumber and followed the humans out to the front door. “Make sure to lock this behind me,” Roman said.

  She watched the tail lights of his car disappear down the driveway. Did that really just happen, she wondered? It may have been a mistake, but from her point of view, it was so worth it. Fifi whined and performed a pirouette at her feet. Mac nudged up against her leg.

  “Okay, okay, stop nagging,” she said. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The text from Roman didn’t come until late the next day.

  Can you come now? Text me when you get here. I’ll go down and bring you up.

  The police station was relatively quiet when Mia walked in. A man sat at the reception desk, but other than Roman waiting by the elevator, there wasn’t anyone else in the area.

  “I’ve got this, Mike,” Roman called out to the man before he could say anything to Mia.

  Roman still looked tired, but he was clean shaven and had his badge clipped to the waistband of his jeans. Gone was the grief-stricken man. In his place stood a sharp-eyed cop.

  He pressed the button on the wall, and the elevator doors sprang open. Mia followed him in and waited while he selected the third floor. The doors closed again with a ding and Roman turned to her, reaching across to squeeze her hand briefly.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “Anything new today?”

  “Not so far. Lots of reports on soil composition and foliage and stuff like that. Nothing that’s helping us get this guy. Thank God, I have you in my pocket, or I’d be seriously pissed off right about now.”

  She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest, her hand clutching the strap of her purse where it lay against her shoulder. “You know I can’t promise anything,” she began. “It’s not predictable—”

 

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