Full Body Contact

by Carolyn McCray

  “Surrender?” Dekker repeated as he lowered himself another fraction of an inch. The tip of his cock teased her slit.

  She tried to pull him into her, but Dekker tightened his hold, preventing her from fulfilling them both.

  “I want to hear you say it. Say you surrender.”

  Alexis bit her lip, tempted to tell Dekker no. To test him like he tested her. But she needed him. Now. Pride be damned.

  “I surrender,” she whispered.

  With one thrust Dekker entered her. Alexis cried out, but this time not from pain. She pulled him tight, meeting him thrust for thrust. He was above her. Over her. In her. His cock swelling to fill her up. Each thrust bringing them closer to ecstasy.

  “Faster,” she moaned.

  Dekker obliged, his strong thighs fueling his thrusts, making it hard to think, let alone speak.

  “Harder.”

  But he stopped. Alexis dug her heels into his back, urging him in. His firm hands pinned her hips to his desk. She looked into his eyes, which were crackling with intensity.

  “You don’t want to make love,” he said. She was about to object, but he hurried on. “You want me to take you.”

  Would saying yes make her a slut? So wet, Alexis didn’t really care at the moment.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  Dekker pulled out of her, making her feel hollow, but she shouldn’t have worried.

  “Turn over.”

  When she didn’t immediately comply, Dekker pulled her up against him so tightly that Alexis’ breasts were crushed against his chest. “I said. Over.”

  Hands on her hips, he turned her around, facing the desk. A hand coursed up her back to her neck, urging her to bend over. Excitement edged with fear coursed over her skin. He slid a hand from behind, between her thighs.

  “Spread them.”

  Something inside of her wanted to clamp her legs closed, to not let him have such control over her. However, with her nipples hardened to fine points and moisture dripping down her legs, she could do nothing else but invite him in.

  Dekker’s fingers knotted themselves in her hair as his other hand steadied her hips. His thrust was as powerful as his side kick as he entered her. She gasped as he filled her again and again.

  “All the way,” he urged, leaning over her, a whisper in her ear. “Let me all the way in.”

  Balls slapping up against her clitoris, sending waves of pleasure, wasn’t he already all the way in?

  Dekker’s arm wrapped around her waist as his finger twisted in her hair, turning her head to the side. “All the way.”

  It wasn’t a request. It was a demand.

  Bracing her hands on the desk, Alexis pushed herself onto him, letting go of all resistance.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Dekker groaned as he thrust even harder, taking him where Alexis had never let another man go.

  Excitement built with each deep thrust. Alexis could feel her clitoris stiffen to an erection.

  “I’m too close,” she whispered but that only fueled Dekker more as she tightened around him. Each stroke squeezing him tighter and tighter.

  She tried to hold off, but nothing could stop the explosion from her groin that shot through her whole body, stiffening every muscle, catching her breath in her chest. Her toes curled as Dekker slammed into her one last time. She rode the waves as he gushed inside of her.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Dekker fell onto her, panting, their breaths mingling cheek to cheek. He was still thick inside of her as their hearts pounded in unison. Fight wounds were long forgotten. Together, they relished the moment.

  Then his hand wandered from the tight grip on her hip to her groin. His finger searched for her mound. Finding it, his finger stroked her clitoris in lazy circles, sending aftershocks through her body.

  “Ready for Round two?”

  Dear God, never had she been more ready.

  CHAPTER 15

  Alexis ignored her cell phone’s incessant ringing. Nick. Again.

  Well, if he wanted to know so badly what happened last night, he should have been at the station for her debriefing. More like over an hour of torture.

  Having to sit there in front of Beck and Grace and explain each and every visible cut and bruise? There wasn’t enough concealer in the drug store to mask her black eye. Thankfully, neither of them questioned the scarf tied around her neck. Beck would have blown a gasket if he saw the wire marks and yanked her off the case faster than Nick could have hit her father up on speed dial.

  Luckily, she could also chalk up her stiff gait to the fight and not have to explain why she was walking bowlegged today.

  The thought made her blush. They had gone seven rounds before calling it a tie. They’d collapsed onto a couch Dekker kept in his office. This morning, she’d barely had time to run home, avoid Callie, get dressed in something that wasn’t leather or lace, and head to the station.

  Alexis looked at the clock. Three p.m. How quickly the day flew by when you woke up at noon. She glanced over to Beck’s office to find him watching her through the glass. Pretending to be busy with paperwork, Alexis still couldn’t keep Dekker out of her mind. The things he could do with his tongue …

  “Guess I owe you an apology.”

  “Huh?” Alexis said, startled to find Grace standing next to her desk.

  “You were right.” Clearly uncomfortable with this apology, she ran her fingers through her hair before finally letting her eyes rest on Alexis. “Well, at least about Ratface.”

  Alexis perked up. “I was?”

  “Yeah. They found Bobby Campbell tossing his apartment. Looks like Ratface owed him some serious cash.”

  “So Dekker is off the suspect list?”

  Alexis tried to keep her relief under wraps. She couldn’t show how much she wanted Dekker off the hook. If he was found innocent, she would bide her time before going public with their relationship. That is, if Dekker still wanted her once he found out she was a cop. A cop who was investigating him. But that was a bridge that they would cross later—much later.

  “For that one, at least,” Grace confirmed. “But I have to concede that you were right. The murder never did fit Dekker’s MO.”

  Alexis’ phone vibrated, bouncing across her desk. She caught it just before it tumbled off and checked the caller ID. Nick. Alexis hit “Ignore.”

  Grace shrugged as she walked to her desk. “Campbell killed some welcher last year the same way, but got off on a technicality.”

  “Great,” Alexis said scrounging in her purse until Grace’s eyebrow went up. “I mean, it’s great that we caught the guy red-handed in Ratface’s apartment. It should make for an easy conviction.”

  “Should be,” Grace stated. “Except on this one, Ratface must have fought back. His wrist was crushed and his pinkie dislocated.

  “Dislocated?” Alexis asked, her keys limp in her hand.

  The sound drained from the room, except for the blood rushing through her head. In the gauntlet when Chet had grabbed her from behind, before he pulled her away, she saw Dekker snap a guy’s wrist and yank the pinkie out of the socket in one swift motion. Something about it seemed familiar, but she didn’t have time to ponder it, because she had her hands full trying to stay alive. Wasn’t there a victim a few years ago with that same wound?

  “Yeah. The ME is thinking that Campbell tortured Ratface to find out where the money was.”

  Which was a perfectly sound theory, except for the fact that one seldom crushed a wrist during torture. That was a fighting injury.

  It couldn’t be, though. Alexis was Dekker’s alibi for Ratface’s murder.

  Alexis took a deep breath. He couldn’t have done it. He was with her.

  “Oh,” Grace said, clearly not knowing what impact her words had on Alexis. “And the other weird thing is that the ME found evidence of ice crystals in the extremities.”

  “Which means …”

  Grace shrugged. “The ME could have been off on the TOD by up to four ho
urs. Luckily, Campbell has no alibi for the entire day, so we’re good.”

  Alexis’ hand fell to the desk, clanging her keys against the metal.

  Frowning, Grace looked at her. “You okay?”

  No. Alexis wasn’t okay. Not at all.

  But just because Dekker could have done it, didn’t mean that he did do it. Hell, thousands of other people could have killed Ratface.

  Alexis snatched her keys up as Beck headed out of his office. She definitely did not want to talk to him. He knew her since childhood. It was one thing to hide her indiscretion from Beck, it was quite another to lie about her suspicions. And she couldn’t go public with them. Not yet.

  First, she needed to know for herself whether Dekker was guilty or innocent.

  Dialing Nick’s number, Alexis put the phone to her ear as she answered Beck, “Following up on a lead.”

  With that, she was out the door. Her narrow escape accomplished. But Nick’s phone went to voice mail. Damn it. He was the one person who would tell her “Damn it, I told you so,” but still keep it under wraps until she knew for sure. The one time she needed Nick, where in the hell was he?

  * * *

  Ten students lined the perimeter of the ring as Dekker faced off against Bull. Bull wore his bruises and scabbed cuts he’d gotten at the street fight like a badge of honor. True to his word, Bull bragged about the number of guys he took down in the alley. There was no mention of Dekker, and he’d embellished the number of guys to nine.

  Bull threw a punch at Dekker’s face. Dekker stepped in, blocked the punch, and then clipped Bull in the chin. Dekker’s leg hooked Bull’s as he swung him to the mat, pinning him with his legs.

  Dekker jumped up and circled the ring, making eye contact with each student.

  “Now, I want you all to practice this combination—as well as the last one I showed you. Make sure that when you take your opponent down, he can’t break out of your hold.”

  Dekker saw Agnes approach, and from the look on her face, something was definitely wrong. He hopped over the ropes, grabbed a bottle of water, and walked with her to his office.

  “Whatcha got for me?”

  “Bad news.”

  “Ah, Agnes. Always the pessimist.”

  There wasn’t much that could ruin his day. Dekker had a perfect weekend getaway planned for Lexie. She’d earned it with the hell he’d put her through. No weapons, no thugs, no fights. Just him and Lexie in a string bikini.

  “You might be joining the ranks,” Agnes said as she placed a piece of paper in front of him. “I ran Lexie’s address. Found that it’s leased to a Callie Andrews.”

  “So?” Dekker looked up from the paper, confused. He knew that Lexie had a roommate. She never hid that fact. Now, if she was shacked up with some guy, that would have been a different story.

  “And Alexis Reed.”

  Dekker paused, his water bottle halfway to his mouth. “Reed? Did she used to be married?”

  Agnes shook her head. She appeared uncomfortable with what she was about to say.

  “I checked the name and found this newspaper article.”

  Agnes dropped a grainy photo of a beaming Lexie and a man with salt-and-pepper hair. The headline read “Chief of Police Retires after 45 Years of Service.” The caption below read “Chief of Police Stephen Reed with his daughter, Detective Alexis Reed.”

  Dekker kept his features composed as he looked at his assistant. “That will be all, Agnes. Why don’t you go ahead and take off for the day?”

  “But I’ve got some paperwork, and—”

  Dekker cut her off. “Like I said. Go home. You can do it in the morning.”

  Agnes quickly retreated, closing the door behind her.

  Dekker picked up the photo of Lexie.

  A cop. A fucking detective. He’d trusted her. Opened himself up, and the bitch was a cop.

  Dekker roared as he threw the bottle at the wall.

  CHAPTER 16

  Alexis closed the front door and flicked on the light switch. The hallway remained shadowed.

  “Callie?” she called, walking to the living room. She tried the table lamp. Nothing. Alexis peered out the window at her neighbor’s house. Their lights were on.

  Great. Callie blew another fuse. How many times did it take for her roommate to realize that she couldn’t plug in her blow dryer, curling iron, and run the microwave? The old wiring in this place couldn’t handle it.

  Sticking her head into her friend’s darkened room, she called out, “Callie?”

  As Alexis headed to her bedroom, she heard a creak behind her. Tensing, Alexis put her hand on her gun, popping off the strap. What if this wasn’t another Callie blunder? What if someone had cut the lights?

  Another creak.

  Alexis slid her gun out from the holster. Carefully, she flicked off the safety. Was there someone else in the house? A flurry of activity came down the hall at her. In the dim light, it was hard to make out exactly the source. Where the hell was her flashlight?

  Before she could fumble in her purse, it came at her.

  The damned mouse. With her cat hot on its tail.

  “Chester!” Alexis yelled out, making sure the safety was on her gun again. “Catch it, or let the mouse go!”

  She did not have time for this. She needed to get changed and head over to Dekker’s. There were more than a few things she needed to clear up. Even in the dark, she knew the combination to her gun safe. Rapidly, Alexis unclipped her holster. Along with the extra clip, she put them in the safe.

  “Miss me?” a husky voice asked behind her.

  Dekker.

  Alexis froze in mid-action. Had he seen the gun? She’d closed the safe, but hadn't locked it. That would have to suffice. She couldn’t let him pick up on her suspicion.

  Sultry Alexis turned to him. “Every second.”

  Forcing herself to remain calm, she walked to him as he swaggered over to her.

  “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he murmured as he leaned in.

  Alexis met his kiss fire for fire, but somehow the heat didn’t make it any farther than her lips. He put a hand on her back, pulling them close. What had excited her last night threatened to nauseate her as she remembered the slash on Dekker’s arm. Had Ratface done that in his last throes? Had he cut Dekker trying to save himself?

  Damn it. Stop it. Alexis cursed herself. Her cop’s mind working overtime. Dekker was no more or less guilty than he was last night when she begged him for round seven.

  As their lips parted, Dekker reached behind her, spinning the safe’s dial. “Wouldn’t want anyone getting to your valuables.”

  “No, we wouldn’t,” she murmured, nuzzling his neck to buy some time. With her gun locked away, she felt more vulnerable now than she had lying on his desk last night.

  He tugged on the top button of her slacks. She knew how efficient he was. If she didn’t think of something quickly, he’d be inside of her before she could protest. And after last night, would he even stop if she said no? Or would he think it just round eight?

  “Ouch,” Alexis said, guarding her right shoulder. “Sorry. Just sore.”

  His hand cupped her breast, stroking his fingers over the fabric. “I’m pretty sure we can find something to distract you from the pain.”

  Despite her fear, Alexis’ nipples responded to Dekker’s touch. Damn her body! Even her groin welcomed his chiseled body and skilled hands. She could remember how it felt last night to be taken completely. To give over all control.

  Unfortunately, it was to the man who could have killed not just Ratface, but half a dozen others as well. Including his last girlfriend. Why couldn’t the freaking ME have found the ice crystals before she slept with the prime suspect?

  Dekker’s knee pressed between hers, bringing it up to her crotch. There, he rocked it back and forth, making it hard for Alexis to think. But she had to think. If he was innocent, she didn’t want to wreck their bond. If he was guilty … well, if he was guilty she ne
eded to get the hell out of here.

  “Don’t you want me?” Dekker asked, his hand against her neck, pushing her chin up with his thumb.

  “Of course.” Not.

  “Then show me,” he urged, grabbing her shirt and ripping it open.

  Alexis gasped as buttons flew across the room and landed on the hardwood floor, skidding across the slick surface. His hand snaked around her back, going for her bra’s clasp. Dear God, this could not be happening.

  She slid out from his grasp, making her way to the bathroom. He caught her hand. “You aren’t exactly making a man feel very welcome.”

  Alexis forced a seductive smile to her lips. “Oh, you will—after you see what I bought to wear tonight.”

  “Later,” he said. “I want you now.”

  He had her by the wrist.

  “Dekker, stop!”

  But his grip only got tighter. “That certainly isn’t what you said last night, Lexie … Or should I say, Alexis?” She tried to back away, but his fingers were like a vise. “How about Detective Alexis Reed?”

  “Please,” she begged, “let me explain.”

  “Explain?” Dekker sneered. “How does one explain deceit? You made me care.”

  “As did I,” Alexis tried to explain, but Dekker overrode her.

  “Did you really think if you spread your legs that you could determine one’s innocence or guilt?”

  Alexis flinched. The comment hurt more than it should. Was he just angry or homicidal? Was this the same expression he had when he snapped Ratface’s neck? No matter, she needed to convince Dekker that she was on his side.