Cait walked to the window and closed the curtains. The room darkened slightly as I walked to the side of the bed I had slept on last night. My pajamas were still folded on the nightstand. I gathered them in my hands and walked into the bathroom. I wanted nothing more than to get out of my work clothes and slip into Cait’s warm bed.
As I shut the door, I picked up my toothbrush and coated it with a glob of toothpaste before turning on the sink water. I scraped the brush over my teeth and tongue, scrubbing the fuzzy film out of my mouth. After I brushed my teeth, I looked at myself in the mirror and took a deep breath. For a few seconds, I felt completely at ease. There was no need to have my guard up. I took my gun out of its holster and set it on the counter before I undressed.
I put on my navy blue sweatpants and an old white T-shirt. Not even two bottles of wine could make someone feel sexy in this outfit. But that was what I appreciated about Cait. I didn’t have to be sexy around her. I could be myself.
This wasn’t our first date; it wasn’t a date at all. But, even if it had been a date, we knew and respected each other enough that we didn’t need lingerie to enhance the mood.
I ran my fingers through my hair before I opened the door and walked out of the bathroom. Cait stood in the middle of the room and held her pajamas in her hand. I was sure she was just as ready for bed as I was.
“If you really want to know, I’ll tell you,” she said as I walked past her. We both stood in the center of the room.
“Really?” I asked skeptically. The way she’d avoided the subject earlier, I got the impression that the answer would either embarrass her or incriminate her.
“Really,” she said. “When I heard that you’d been abducted by that madman, by Lathan Collins, every gruesome thought of what he could have done to you raced through my mind. You and I hadn’t spoken in years, and probably never would, but to know the possibility of never being able to see you—or even just being able to talk to you again—was gut wrenching. You may not have been my first, but you were certainly the first woman I loved.” Cait stifled back a tearful chuckle. “A part of me has always held on to you. And it wasn’t until I thought I had to permanently let you go that I realized how much you still have a hold on me.” She paused and walked toward the bathroom. “So, to answer your question,” she said when she got to the bathroom door, “I still would’ve said ‘yes’ to the case… because, even after seeing all the blood and guts and gore, I would be with you.” She leaned against the doorway, and her confidence hooked its claws into me. “I would give up the comfort of my entire life just to spend one day in the chaos of yours,” she added.
Her admission paralyzed my entire body. As I stood there, absolutely speechless, she bowed her head and retreated into the bathroom. The door closed and the faint sound of water flowing from the sink filled the room.
A burst of euphoria rolled through my body and engulfed my heart. Cait wanted to be with me. The real me. She had witnessed the madness and disarray of my life—and, instead of wanting to run from it, she wanted to embrace it. She didn’t want to fix me, and she didn’t want to stay out of pity.
Her words were exactly what I needed to hear. Maybe I wasn’t as damaged as I thought. I had convinced myself that I was repulsive to be around and to look at. I was damaged goods. No one would put in the time to get past my bullshit and embrace the real me.
But I was wrong. Someone was willing to do all that and more. Cait’s words were a testament that I was someone worth wanting and someone worth loving. In a single sentence, she had stripped the armor from my skin and left my heart completely exposed. In that moment, I didn’t mind being naked and vulnerable in front of her—because I needed her. I trusted her. I loved her.
But more than all that, I wanted her. I wanted her the way she wanted me the other night. I wanted all of her pressed against me. I wanted to feel her lips against mine, her hands on my skin, her breath upon my neck. I wanted to make her feel as good as she had just made me feel. But I didn’t want to do it with words. I wanted to do it with my lips, my hands, and my tongue. I wanted to be the person who controlled her body tonight.
Although my entire being ached for her, I knew that’s all it could amount to. This want couldn’t grow to fruition. I couldn’t act on these feelings. Above everything else, we were partners—platonic, working partners. But weren’t we both mature enough to separate our personal lives from our professional ones?
The creak of the door handle broke my trance, and I looked in her direction. I would thank her for her words, hug her goodnight, and leave it at that.
As I took the first step toward the bathroom, Cait stepped into hallway, and I felt my platonic intentions disintegrate at my feet. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, with loose strands around her face in disheveled layers. Her black pajama pants fit perfectly around her waist, backside, and legs. Her white tank top clung to her breasts and stomach. I had never noticed how tone her body was, especially in her arms. The feminine bulge in her biceps accentuated the curves in her body. As I took in her beauty, my heart slowed, as if it forgot how to beat. That’s how strikingly spectacular she looked.
I stepped over the ashes of my virtuous plan, and I confidently strode toward Cait. The controllable ache I felt for her moments ago had transformed into an insatiable desire. It ignited a fire so deep inside me that the addiction I felt for her burned my skin. Every step toward her had purpose—and that purpose was to kiss her for as long as she would let me.
She had her back to me as I approached her, and she didn’t feel my presence until I was only inches away. She turned around, surprised to see how close I was, but she didn’t step back. Instead, her bewildered stare invited my lips on hers.
I leaned in to kiss her. With a mere millimeter between our lips, she brought herself closer to me. Her lips landed hard on mine, and she opened her mouth as wide as mine was. She wanted this kiss to happen just as much as I did. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
Cait controlled the kiss for only a second. I cupped my hands around her jaw and held her in place, and my tongue entered her mouth. Her breath escaped through her nose, and she took a deep breath. Then she wrapped her hands around the back of my neck and brought my body closer to her. We danced in a circle down the hallway toward the bed as we fumbled for control of the kiss and of ourselves.
She somehow managed to press my back against the wall, and she held me in place. We stood there, kissing and breathing into one another. She grabbed at the ends of my shirt and lifted it to my neck before she paused. In order for my shirt to come off, we had to stop kissing—if only for a fraction of a second, to let the fabric pass over my head—but she didn’t want to break from the kiss. And I didn’t want her to.
It was as if the force of her mouth against mine was the greatest pleasure I had ever known. If I wanted to feel more of this ultimate pleasure from her, I had to lose the shirt. I let my fingers slip from the sides of her face and took hold of my shirt in her hands. I didn’t pull back from her lips. Instead, I lifted the shirt between us—a temporary barrier between our mouths, and I pulled it over my head. It fell to the floor as Cait pressed her warm chest against my naked flesh.
The curve of my lips struggled to keep from smiling. My hands reclaimed the sides of her face. I paused briefly to catch my breath. She took the opportunity to hitch my leg around her waist and twirled us back onto the bed. I grabbed the waistline of her pants as she hoisted my head to the pillows.
As I anticipated our reckless and passionate kisses to resume, she smoothed my hair away from my face and looked at me. Her eyes fixed on mine, and a warm smile travelled over her mouth. She leaned her head down with grace and timely precision and softly kissed me. The animalistic desire between us had settled, and I was left with a slow romantic burn that cooled my senses. She kissed me as if she intended for this night to never end. She caressed my face in a way that’s reserved only for the enamored. She kissed me in a way that persuaded my heart to
love again.
I brought my hands to the back of her head and rolled her onto her back. As our momentum grew, so did our kiss. The unrestricted kissing commenced. Although I enjoyed the tenderness, my body ached too much to take my time with her. I needed to taste more of her. I nipped and kissed her neck as I breathed my way down her chest, kissing and caressing her breasts with eager affection. Cait separated her legs, and my lower half gently landed against her. I had an open invitation for my hands and tongue to travel inside her.
I bowed my head before I placed my lips on top of hers. The way she tasted, and the way she moved, was exactly the way I wanted her. I pushed back the strands of hair from her face and smiled at how eager she was for me to be inside her. Regardless of what the morning brought, right here—right now—I knew I was able to feel love. Cait was the cure I had been looking for. And I was going to spend all night making sure she felt as good as I did.
CHAPTER | SIXTEEN
I RUBBED SLEEP FROM my eyes and took a deep breath. My head sank further into the pillow, and the crinkle of down feathers echoed in my ear. Heartening warmth wrapped itself around me. It felt as if a dozen towels fresh out of the dryer had been tossed on top of me.
I watched the clock rotate to 7:58 a.m. In two minutes, the alarm would go off, and I would have to leave the sanctuary of Cait’s embrace. She lied behind me with her arm draped over my side. Her hand was tucked between the bed and my breast, and her left leg was sandwiched between mine. Her face was against the back of my neck, her breath warming my skin as she breathed in and out.
We fit perfectly together.
The ache I had for Cait last night was very much still alive. Every time I moved, a satisfying soreness pulsated through me. It was a pleasant reminder of where she had touched me last night. She had kissed, licked and bit every inch of my body, but I still craved her. I still wanted more.
The clock clicked to 7:59 a.m. I had one more minute to be with her. One more minute to feel safe.
I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay confined in her arms for the rest of the day. The thoughts of her hands on my body, her lips on my skin, and her breath in my ear were tempting enough to unplug the alarm clock and forget about the real reason we were together. But she wasn’t here to caress my back, kiss my lips, or lick my skin. She was here to help me catch a serial killer.
As that thought pierced its way into my heart, the alarm clock emitted a series of high-pitched beeps. It was 8:00 a.m. Time to pull myself away from Cait’s splendor in order to fight the cruelty in the world. By the fifth beep, Cait tightened her hold on me and stretched her legs down the length of the bed. She rolled onto her back, her naked body covered by the comforter, and she sat upright.
I felt her look at me before she traced her fingertips down my neck, along my exposed arm, and stopped when she reached my waist.
“Did you want to shower first?” she asked.
“No, you go ahead,” I said as I pressed the “off” button on the alarm clock.
“Any word from Fluellen about James Coffer?” Cait asked as she stood from the bed.
I turned to look at her. The pale sunlight illuminated her body as she waited for my answer. It was next to impossible to formulate a response. I was absolutely fascinated by her beauty—and knowing that only a few hours ago I had touched her and tasted her clouded my mind with thoughts of doing just that. I was more than tempted by her subtle seduction; I was completely captivated by it.
“No,” I answered, although I wasn’t certain that was the truth. I hadn’t checked my phone yet. But if Flu had called, I would have heard the phone ring. “We’ll find out for sure once we get to the station.”
“Are we headed there first? I thought you wanted to check out Mirror Woods Plaza,” Cait reminded me.
I instinctually braced myself for the cannonball that would inevitably explode inside me at the mere mention of Mirror Woods. Whenever it went off, the agony from the memories would shoot into my stomach, and the blast would rise to the back of my throat, burning my esophagus as if I had taken a shot of battery acid.
But this time, when my body tensed in preparation for the explosion, there was nothing. Hearing Cait say the words “Mirror Woods” had the same effect on me as if she had asked me about adopting a kitten. There was no burning. No anger. No bomb in the pit of my stomach.
“I do,” I said as an unfamiliar feeling of calm nestled inside me. “We can head there first,” I added.
Cait nodded before retreating to the bathroom. The door closed behind her, and the strident echo of water beating against porcelain roared from the bathroom. I rolled onto my side, the cold air hitting my back where Cait was only a few moments ago, and I looked out the window.
The tall buildings along the horizon blurred through the sheer curtain as my eyes fixated on the bleach-colored sunlight. I thought about my lack of reaction to Mirror Woods. Even now, just thinking about that baleful place brought no painful reminders. I wasn’t angry, and I wasn’t scared. My breathing remained normal. Had this been last month—or even a week ago—I would’ve been running to the bathroom to splash water on my face in an attempt to keep myself from falling into a full-blown panic attack.
As I contemplated the difference between now and then, thoughts of Cait swarmed my mind. She was the difference. In the past two weeks, Cait had built a fortress around me so tough I was ready for battle. I knew I could trust her, and that trust led to the overwhelming desire I now had for her.
Just one night with Cait did more for me than six months of therapy. Cait should be charging me a co-pay and billing my insurance company. My weekly session with Dr. Tillman was scheduled for tomorrow morning. But as I laid there, the sound of Cait showering behind me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I no longer needed Dr. Tillman. I dreaded going to her sessions—not because she didn’t help me, but because she made me relive a night I would much rather forget. With Cait, I didn’t have to relive the night. All I had to do was face it. And I could do that, now that I had her by my side.
If I made it through the entire day feeling this confident about Mirror Woods, then I would cancel my appointment with Dr. Tillman. I didn’t want to give Cait all the credit for my progress—the majority of it was my doing, but something new was growing inside me. It was strong, ready to heal the wounds that had weakened my mind.
The abrupt turn of the shower handle halted my thoughts. I sat up. The comforter rustled as I stood from the bed and walked toward the bathroom door. I knocked twice. The door quickly opened. Cait stood in front of the fogged mirror, a towel wrapped around her otherwise naked frame as she brushed her teeth. We made eye contact through the mirror, and I smiled at her before stepping into the shower.
Beads of water trickled down the walls and glass door as I turned the shower on. Hot water rained down from the spout, and I ran my fingers through my hair. Cait watched my reflection in the mirror, a seductive smirk spread from the corner of her mouth as her eyes traveled down my body. It was as if she knew she had an unspoken invitation to join me. But she chose not to. The case took precedence over our mutual thirst for each other. She tapped her toothbrush along the edge of the sink before she tightened the towel around her and walked out of the bathroom.
Until this point, I had forgotten how nice romance felt. I didn’t want flowers or jewelry. What Cait gave me was much more tangible than the traditional romantic gestures. She gave me attention and compassion. She gave me patience and kindness. She gave me back my confidence.
She didn’t look at me as if I was an injured puppy. She knew I had some issues to work through, but that didn’t influence the way she treated me. She trusted that I could do my job—and, more importantly, that I could do it well. She saw the cracks along my surface, but she knew I was stable enough for her to put weight on.
By the time I had gotten out of the shower, Cait had already dried her hair and gotten dressed. The bathroom was too small for both of us to get ready in at the same time. Cait stayed
in the bedroom while I brushed my teeth and got dressed in the bathroom.
I pushed the thoughts of what it would be like to get ready with Cait every morning from my mind. It wasn’t fair to put such expectations on her. We had spent one night together. I couldn’t sentence her to a lifelong love affair with me. That’s where I went wrong with her twenty years ago. I wasn’t the same naïve twenty-year-old. This Lena knew Cait needed her space and independence. This Lena knew not to expect more than just one night.
“What’s the game plan?” Cait asked once we were both ready to go.
“Interview employees at the plaza,” I said. “Maybe they’ll remember James Coffer being there Wednesday night. If we get a hit, we’ll ask the employee to ID James at the station. If not, then we’ll head back to the station to interrogate James some more,” I added.
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