She smiled. “True.”
“Then go on,” he again prodded, though gentler this time.
“I wanted, just once in my life . . .” Nikki looked away again, a reflective expression on her face. “I wanted to be everything to a man. The center of his universe. Just once.”
Thomas listened but said nothing.
“Growing up, I never had a father. He died when I was fairly young, so it was just me and Mom. Mom . . . she loved me, I know she did, but she was very . . . how do I put it? Stoic, I guess. She was a stoic, emotionally withdrawn person.”
“Didn’t show much affection?” he asked softly.
Nikki shook her head. “No. Never.” She forced a smile as she met his gaze. “But she loved me and I loved her. She didn’t have to tell me for me to know, but it would have helped, if that makes sense.”
He inclined his head.
“I think,” she said in the way of self-analysis, “that as a result of that and various other events, I stored up all of these incredible feelings that I didn’t know how to show others. Feelings that have all been laying in wait for that one lucky guy”—she wiggled her eyebrows—“or unfortunate guy, depending on how you look at it.”
Nikki chuckled, trying to keep the conversation light. “It’s funny, too, because I can’t count how many men I dated when I was younger—before I gave up!—who described me postrelationship as a cold fish, an ice queen. Little did they know I had all of these intense emotions buried beneath the ice that I was waiting and hoping a man would care enough to crack and claim.”
Thomas’s gaze flicked over her facial features, studying them, memorizing them.
She glanced away, her smile fading. “But that never happened,” she said quietly. “And before I knew it, I quit hoping.” Nikki sighed. “Anyway, I don’t really remember how or when I happened upon my first e-book that revolved around Domination/submission situations, but I do recall being hooked as soon as I read one.”
Something in Thomas stilled. “E-books?” he softly asked.
Her eyebrows drew together. “That’s an electronic book,” she explained.
“I know,” he said, running a hand over his jaw. “Was it one publisher in particular you read?”
Nikki’s eyes rounded when she realized the direction his thoughts were going in. “Yes,” she whispered. “Do you suppose there could be a correlation?”
Thomas shoved away from the table and stood up. “I don’t know,” he said, the adrenaline kicking in. “Let’s go find out.”
“I want you to see if the e-book publisher will willingly cooperate and hand over their records first,” Thomas said to Ben through the cell connection. “If not, then we try to get a warrant.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “Shit, I hope it doesn’t come to that. We don’t have enough to go on to obtain one.” He frowned. “Nah, it’s just a hunch. Well, not even a hunch, really. Just something worth looking into.”
Nikki watched Thomas pace back and forth, her gaze mesmerized by the sight of him. Certainly more enthralled than she wanted it to be. Especially considering the fact that he hadn’t made any mention today of last night or even behaved as though anything noteworthy had transpired between them. A thought that depressed her more than it probably should have.
Here she was, holed up in an apartment in downtown Cincinnati, where she could be another anonymous face in a crowd, in hiding from a sadistic serial killer who fantasized about raping, torturing, and murdering her in particular, and all Nikki could think about was whether or not Thomas was as attracted to her as she was to him. The irony was not lost on her.
Having Thomas as her bodyguard made her feel invulnerable to attack, which no doubt explained why she hadn’t given Lucifer as much thought as the sicko probably hoped she’d been giving him. The detective had a solid, loyal quality about him, a dependability most men, and most people for that matter, lack.
Nikki couldn’t decide if he was more handsome clean-shaven, as he was now, or sporting the five-o’clock shadow that partially concealed the lower half of his face most of the time. He looked a bit sinister either way, she supposed. He looked undeniably masculine and handsome either way, too. Even wearing jeans and a T-shirt as he was today, he personified rugged, elemental masculinity.
“Well,” Thomas said, making her blink, “Ben’s on the case. Now all we can do is sit back and wait to see if anything comes of it.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure I understand what it is you’re hoping to find, but whatever it is, I obviously hope you find it.”
“I’m not looking for anything in particular,” he said as he strolled into the kitchen. “And very well might not find anything. That’s the best way, if you ask me. If you look for something in particular, you tend to overlook the million other things staring you right in the face.”
“Good point.”
He grunted. “Well, for both our sakes I hope Ben finds something. I’d like to get the hell out of here and go back to Cleveland to work.”
Nikki’s heart fell, something she conceded it had no right to do. “Yes,” she said quietly, “I can understand that.”
Thomas’s head poked through the kitchen door. “Hey.” He waited for her to look at him before continuing. “Don’t go reading shit into things I say.” He frowned. “I say what I mean and I mean what I say,” he grumbled before disappearing back into the kitchen. “There ain’t any lines there for you to read between, Doc.”
She held back a smile. In more words or less he had just salvaged her pride, letting her know he wanted to return to Cleveland so it was easier to work, not so he wouldn’t be obliged to spend more time with her. Nikki blew out a breath. If Detective Grouch kept doing nice things like that, she was going to be head over heels in love with him before they left Cincinnati.
“I was thinking,” Nikki said a bit loudly to make sure Thomas heard her from the kitchen.
“Oh, great,” he muttered. “Three words no man wants to hear from a woman’s lips.”
“Knock it off, I’m being serious.”
He grunted. “So am I.”
Nikki rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Anyway,” she said pointedly, standing up and walking into the kitchen. “You have a laptop, right?” she asked, leaning against the door-frame.
Thomas glanced up from where he was making sandwiches. “Yeah. You like pastrami?”
“Yes,” she said absently. “With mustard, please. Anyway, if you have a laptop, why don’t we . . . I don’t know . . . try to catch Lucifer ourselves?”
He stilled for a moment. He glanced up at her. “I have to admit the thought did cross my mind.”
“But?”
He shrugged. “Leon Walker, our computer expert over at the CPD, already put approximately ten dummy ads in. So far he hasn’t even gotten a nibble. There are thousands of ads on Dom4me.com. What are the chances of Lucifer reading the one we put in when he hasn’t taken any of Leon’s bait?”
“A bit more mustard, please.” Nikki considered that.
“Well, have you thought about the possibility that Lucifer can smell a trap? Or that Leon isn’t using the right trigger words? He is a man after all.”
Thomas frowned. “Yes, I’ve considered that. But Dr. Horace is a woman, and she helped him create the ads. Do you like pickles?”
“What am I, a communist? Okay, granted Dr. Horace is a woman, and a brilliant one at that, but perhaps she is missing that element of vulnerability Lucifer’s victims, myself included, shared in common. I bet if we created a fictional ad for a woman in the Cleveland area who has the same professional and emotional attributes as me . . .”
He was quiet for a long moment, a thoughtful look etched into his profile. “Go boot up the laptop,” Thomas muttered. “I’ll get us some chips and pops.”
Chapter 19
Tuesday, July 22 6:22 P·M·
“Well, here we go.” Nikki blew out a breath as she typed in Dom4me.com and waited for the site to load on the screen of the laptop. Seated o
n the floor, she and Thomas had set up shop on the living room table, the portable computer, various printouts, and their dinner scattered all over it.
When the site finally loaded, she felt embarrassed inside, realizing as she did that Thomas knew from her email exchange with Richard that she fantasized about the sorts of activities and situations Dom4me.com purported. On the main menu there was a photographic image of a naked woman, her head bowed, kneeling before a man—her Master. The next page contained a photographic image of a naked woman tied up and blindfolded while her Master administered to her sexually.
Oh yes, Nikki was embarrassed. Mortified, more like. But she pretended as though they were looking at nothing more provocative or unusual than a weather-reporting news site.
One of Thomas’s eyebrows rose as he watched her navigate Dom4me.com. “I see we know our way around in here,” he grumbled.
She blushed and ignored him. “Okay. This is where we set up our ad. I think a good title for it would be, hmm let me think . . . I know!” Nikki began typing, repeating the words back to him as she did. “Lonely CEO Searching for Master.”
He frowned. “Shouldn’t it be, Lonely Female CEO Searching for Master?”
She shook her head. “It’s redundant. You can tell by the gender we put in that she, or we, rather, are a woman.”
“I concede to your finer knowledge of this site,” he growled.
Nikki ignored the way her heart was thumping at his obvious jealousy, telling herself she could savor that memory later in private. “Okay, first things first, we need to decide what we look like.” Her eyes squinted as she read the selections. “We’ll be thirty-four, have dark blonde hair, and green—no, too obvious—blue eyes. What should our, uh . . .” She cleared her throat. “What should our bra size be?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Big. I want to have big tits.”
She frowned at him. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” He sighed. “Okay, I was kind of teasing, but actually Lucifer does have a thing for big breasts.”
Nikki flushed, quickly looking back down to the screen. “How about 34D, then?”
Thomas’s gaze slowly raked over her chest. “That your size?” he softly drawled.
Her heart was beating so dramatically she could hear it better than she could hear him. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
Thomas snorted at that. “I see we’ve now passed the fifth grade.”
She grinned, but didn’t look up.
Fifteen minutes later, Nikki leaned against the couch, chomping on her pastrami and rye sandwich as Thomas checked his email. The ad was done. Together they had created a fictional woman that fit the killer’s predilection. Unfortunately, it could take up to forty-eight hours for the ad to post, depending upon how backlogged the site administrators were. All they could do now was sit back and wait—and hope the lure would be too sweet for Lucifer to pass up.
“Why the Master stuff?” Thomas murmured, surprising her.
Nikki’s head shot up. She set down the sandwich and swallowed. “What do you mean?”
His dark gaze slowly swept over her, making her belly knot. “Why do you want to call a man Master in bed?”
Silence.
She looked away. “I don’t know,” she quietly admitted. “I guess it’s more the symbolism than the word itself.”
“Explain what you mean.”
She shrugged, her gaze still averted. “Well, sort of like the woman you saw on the Dom4me.com site kneeling before that man. It’s not the act of kneeling in and of itself that arouses her enough to do it, it’s the symbolism behind the action.”
Thomas’s heavy-lidded gaze studied her face as he listened.
“She wants to be completely possessed by that man,” Nikki said, finding it easier to talk in the third person as if about someone else. “She wants to be owned by him, have him decide her boundaries.” She glanced up and grinned. “Probably only in the bedroom. I know there is such a thing as lifestylers who live in those roles twenty-four /seven, but I doubt ninety percent of women who like to be submissive in the bedroom would allow for such goings-on anywhere but in bed.”
His gaze bore into hers. “You want that, Nikki?” he murmured. “You want a man to own you?”
“Not just any man,” she whispered. Nikki drew in a deep tug of air and exhaled slowly. This conversation was arousing her like she didn’t know what. “And not just in general. In the bedroom only.”
Thomas’s intense gaze trailed over her face, down to her lips, up to her eyes. “What if the guy needed to own you outright?” he asked in that low, gravelly voice of his.
She swallowed against the invisible lump in her throat.
“What if he was a jealous bastard who needed to know his woman would never fuck around? Or what if he was worried all the time that something bad might happen to her, so he liked for her to tell him where she was at all times?”
Nikki couldn’t help but to wonder if he was speaking of himself—and her. A fact that made her breathing grow a bit heavier. “Well . . .” She blew out a breath. Good lord, she was aroused. Even her nipples were hard as rocks, she thought grimly. “I guess it would depend on what he meant by owning me outright. Would I leave him a note if I needed to dash out unexpectedly or whatever? I think that’s mutual respect both parties should demonstrate, not ownership per se.”
“What if,” he asked softly, “he wanted you to ask his permission before you went anywhere?”
Nikki’s smile came slowly. “I’d tell him to go to hell,” she whispered.
Thomas grunted. “It was worth a shot,” he muttered.
The next several minutes passed in tense silence. She could feel the detective’s stare boring into her profile, but nerves kept her from looking back at him. She sat on the floor before the living room table, her back propped against the sofa, feigning an inordinate fascination with the soda she slowly sipped from.
She wanted Thomas Cavanah. More than she’d ever wanted any man. There was no point in denying that reality any longer.
“Richard” had been a fantasy lover, and the affection she’d felt for him based on calculated untruths and castles in the sky—none of it had ever been real. But Thomas, and their burgeoning relationship, was different—both were very real. Her brain knew it. Her aroused body knew it. And now her heart knew it, too. It did not follow, however, that he wanted her back.
Nikki realized he was attracted to her on some level. She bet he’d even have sex with her if she showed the slightest inclination toward sleeping with him. But, she dismally thought, things had gone a bit too far for her to be able to view carnal relations with him as merely casual. She’d never been good at that anyway. With Thomas the effect would be a thousand times worse.
The grouchy, growling man had gotten under her skin in a way no male had ever before accomplished. She liked him as a person, trusted him as a friend, respected him as a detective, and wanted him in the way a woman wants a man. The ice-queen’s heart was this close to cracking, and she didn’t know how to deal with it. What was worse was the fact that there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, for she was as good as glued to Thomas’s side until Lucifer was caught.
“I want to be that man,” Thomas said, making her blink. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t heard him get up, let alone walk around the table to stand next to her.
Her head shot up. He looked so strong and powerful standing there before her, his heavily muscled body tensed.
“What man?” Nikki whispered. She nervously met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest.
His eyes were narrowed, heavy-lidded. “The man who owns you,” he said thickly.
Her heart was hammering so hard she could scarcely breathe. She said nothing, couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it, as she sat there and watched him watch her, her breasts rising and falling with her labored breathing.
Thomas reached for her topknot and unwound it, letting curls spill dow
n to the middle of her back. “Can I own you, Nikki?” he softly asked, his callused fingers tucking a curl behind her ear. The feel of his hardened skin raking her softer flesh made her nipples pucker. She glanced down, seeing his erection pressed tight against his jeans, before looking up to meet his gaze again. “Can I?”
Nikki had never felt more nervous, excited, or closer to fainting in her entire life. Everything she’d ever fantasized about, every last wicked fantasy, was suddenly within her grasp. She wanted to live out her desires more than anything, but also conceded that if she said yes to Thomas, the ice-queen might very well be turning over her cracked-open heart to the detective to do with as he would.
Could she chance that? Did she have the guts?
Her chest was heaving so dramatically it was a wonder she could breathe. “Yes,” Nikki whispered, her eyes now as intense as Thomas’s. “Yes, you can.”
His heavy-lidded gaze raked over her breasts, over her face. “Prove it,” he commanded. “Get on your knees and tell me that.”
Nikki slowly blew out a breath, her hands a bit shaky. She glanced away, suddenly embarrassed about her submissive fantasies. Kneeling before a man had been one thing in thought, while masturbating; it was entirely another thing—a very, very unnerving thing—in reality.
The mortifying thought that Thomas found the situation humorous crossed her mind, made her cheeks redden. But when she looked at his expression, really studied it for the first time, she could tell without reservation that the detective was as aroused by her fantasies as she was. “Okay,” she breathed out, more nervous and vulnerable than she’d ever been in her life. She made to get up, climb up to her knees.
“Take your clothes off first,” he said hoarsely, backing up a few steps. “Stand up, take off your clothes, and then kneel before me.”
His words, coupled with the command itself, were so arousing she could feel her entire body flushing. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Nikki came up on shaky feet and slowly began to peel off her clothing.
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