by Sharon Sala
“Sweetheart…at the risk of sounding a bit corny, you’re the driver here. All you have to do is tell me to stop.”
She licked her lower lip, carefully tasting where his mouth had just been. It felt hot and moist, and she wanted to know more.
“What comes next?”
He traced the curve of her chin with the tip of his finger. “The possibility of internal combustion.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” he said softly. “I was teasing.”
“I thought we were being serious?”
Luke’s eyes darkened. “Honey, this is about as serious as it gets, but there’s nothing better than being able to laugh with someone you love. So, are you still with me?”
“Yes.”
He pointed to her clothes. “You’re sort of overdressed for the moment.”
She grabbed the collar of her shirt in reflex to what he’d said and pulled it tighter beneath her chin than it already was.
Luke held up his hands and backed completely away.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “How about I take off all my clothes, you check out the goods, and if you’re still okay with all of this, then you make the next move?”
“Uh…”
Luke unzipped his pants. Jade wanted to look away, but she couldn’t, and when he tossed them aside and then took off his briefs, as well, she went weak in the knees. The muscles in her stomach began to pull, then ache. She’d seen far more naked men than she cared to remember, and yet looking at Luke was like seeing one for the very first time. His muscles were well-toned. His body was perfectly proportioned. She already knew that his chest was broad and firm, with a slight dusting of very black hair. Now she could see that it spiraled down the middle of his belly, then surrounded a growing erection.
Luke watched her carefully, afraid to dwell on what she might be thinking.
“I can’t stop this from happening. It’s not a weapon or a means to cause you pain. It’s just a man’s normal reaction to a very desirable woman.”
“In my head, I know that,” Jade whispered.
“I’m going to lie down now. Come sit beside me. I promise I won’t touch you in any way until you tell me otherwise.”
Without waiting for her permission, he lay down on the bed, stretched out on his back and pillowed his hands behind his head.
“Tell yourself it’s something like the petting zoo.”
Jade laughed before she thought, then gasped and covered her mouth. When he grinned, then winked, she began to relax.
“See, I told you there’s nothing better than laughing with someone you care for. Add some sweet loving to that and you’ve got the makings of a real good thing.”
“Oh, Luke…I so want this to be all right.”
“I know you do, honey. I wish your life had been different, but it wasn’t. However, thanks to Sam, you have the chance to change it. All you have to do is take what’s being offered.”
“Like you?” she asked.
“It’s a start.”
Her chin jutted just the tiniest bit. “I don’t want to do this alone.”
Luke rose up on one elbow.
“Then come lie with me, Jade.”
Sheltered by the darkness, she stood up, turned her back and started taking off her clothes. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right.
The thunder of her heartbeat was not evident as she methodically undressed. When she was completely naked, she braced her shoulders and then turned around.
The smile on Luke’s face froze as his gaze slid from her face downward. A thin, white scar began on her left breast and then followed the curve of her body to just below her navel.
Before Luke could pull himself together, Jade splayed her fingers across as much of it as she could touch and took a step back.
“Jesus,” Luke muttered, then bounded from the bed and took her hands, gently pulling them away from her body. “Don’t.”
“It’s ugly.”
“The only thing ugly is the bastard who did it.”
Slowly he traced the length of the scar with his finger. “Such a little warrior you must have been.” Then he picked her up and carried her to bed.
She rolled over onto her side, subconsciously concealing another man’s mark.
Luke lay down beside her, then slid his arm beneath her neck to pillow her head.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
Jade did.
“Tell me his name.”
“I don’t know it. I never knew their names. Solomon just called the men uncles.”
“Why did he do this?”
“I think because I was no longer a little girl. My breasts were growing, and my body was changing. It turned him off instead of on, and when he couldn’t…you know…he took it out on me.”
“Christ Almighty,” Luke whispered, and then cupped her face with his hands. “Know this…if I ever find the man who did this to you, I will kill him.”
“I don’t know his name, but he called himself Uncle Frank. Probably a made-up name.” Then Jade laid a finger over his mouth, then slid the palm of her hand along the side of his face. She could feel the beginnings of a beard and a muscle twitching near his jaw.
“I hate enough for both of us. What I need from you is a lesson in how to make love.”
Luke sighed, then leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.
“Okay, honey…and like I told you before…I’ll be anything you need me to be.”
They lay on their sides, facing each other, and she let the dance begin.
“A kiss…just a kiss,” he said softly.
Instinctively her lips parted. She felt the warmth of his breath on her face and then closed her eyes. Mouths merged—gently, at first. She slid a hand behind his neck.
Luke was struggling to balance caution with desire. With each move that she made, he could feel her hesitation. But she was so very, very sweet. He slid his mouth from her lips to her chin, then the hollow at the base of her throat.
Jade rolled over on her back, giving him access to her body. When she felt his lips at the valley between her breasts, she shivered.
Luke paused and rose up on one elbow.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
His nostrils flared slightly. It was the only sign he gave her of his emotional state of mind.
Afterward, Jade’s senses seemed to go out of control. She would feel his mouth on her body, then his hands, then his mouth once more, always moving downward in gentle strokes and tender kisses. As his tongue dipped into the valley of her navel, an answering fire began to heat inside her. Somewhere deep—somewhere low. She reached for him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, uncertain of his next move.
Again he rose up. There was moisture glistening on his lips. A bead of sweat had run from his hairline and then down the side of his face. Without thinking, she caught it on the tip of her finger, then lifted it to her mouth. It was warm and salty, and she wanted this feeling inside her to go on forever.
When Jade touched her finger to her tongue, Luke’s mind went blank. Already aching for her to the point of physical pain, he almost lost it. Then she shifted restlessly beneath him, and as she did, a small beam of moonlight slipped through the curtains, spearing through space and then highlighting the scar. It was as effective a set of brakes as Luke had ever known, reminding him that this night wasn’t about what he wanted from her but what she needed to learn. That this act—the act of making love—meant pleasure, not pain.
“Spread your legs,” he said.
Her breathing staggered, stopped, then resumed in a ragged effort. This was where passion ended and panic began. Every image she’d been trying to forget for the past eighteen years slammed back into her mind with brute force. She tried to move and could do nothing but shake. Just the thought of being touched there made her want to throw up.
“Oh, Luke…I’m sorry…I don’t think I can.”
Luke stoppe
d, then turned his head and laid his cheek on the flat of her belly. She was shaking so hard that he thought she was going to pass out.
“Easy, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to do a damned thing you don’t want to do.”
Then, to prove his point, he slid his arms beneath her hips and just held her close, binding her legs together with the weight of his body. Her skin was hot, her muscles trembling. He could smell the soap on her body from her last bath, as well as her musky, woman smell.
At that moment, Jade hated herself for what had been done to her and for what she’d become.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry. I tried.”
“I know you did, and I’m telling you it’s okay.”
Jade hated this part of herself. She was nothing but an emotional cripple.
“But it’s not,” she said, and then started to cry.
Luke rolled over, then sat up and pulled her across his lap. She laid her head on his shoulder while his arms held her close, and together they sat as Luke rocked her like a baby.
Seconds passed into minutes; then they lost track of time. Jade had heard the thunder of his heartbeat and knew what strength it had taken for him to pull back. Now she knew she could trust Luke. If only she could trust herself. She’d come so close. As they sat in the quiet, Jade started to consider another try.
“Luke?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Can we give this another go?”
Luke groaned. “Oh, baby, I want to, but I don’t know if I can without—”
“Maybe if I was the one in control?”
“You’re always in control.”
“That’s not what I mean,” she said, and then slid off his lap and gave his shoulders a push.
He dropped flat on his back.
Jade sat up, then tentatively ran her hands down the length of both legs, feeling the muscles jumping beneath the skin.
“Oh, man…if this is you in control, be my guest,” Luke said.
Her fingers moved past his groin, then across the flat of his belly, testing the texture and tension of the muscles beneath his skin. In a way, Jade felt as if she was painting him, but with her fingers instead of paint on canvas.
She closed her eyes, mentally mapping the conformation of his arms and legs, subconsciously storing the information, as if she were making a sketch.
Luke was sweating now, and his breath was coming in short, frantic gasps. He’d never thought that he would lose his mind in a sweet woman’s bed, but there was a good chance that it was going to happen tonight. When her fingernails raked across his nipples, he arched off the bed.
“Sweet mother of—”
Jade inhaled slowly, then opened her eyes. She felt weightless—almost mindless. Everything around her seemed to be happening in slow motion. Her mind went on hold as she straddled Luke’s thighs. His erection was hard and pulsing. She didn’t have to touch him to know what it felt like. But this wasn’t like before. For the first time in her life she felt like a woman, not a victim. She so wanted to be a woman, and she wanted to be one with this man.
Her movements were slow and studied as she rose up on her knees. She could feel him against the inside of her leg.
“Luke.”
His answer was little more than a grunt.
“Don’t…move,” she said.
With the fluidity of cold sorghum on a winter morning, she began to lower herself onto his erection. Slowly, slowly, she slid downward, giving her body time to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion. Where she’d been empty, now she was full. Where she’d been alone, she was now part of him. And without fear. Without pain.
Luke’s hands were shaking as he fitted them to her waist. The need to drive himself deeper into her was like a blood-lust. If she didn’t do something, he would go insane.
“Move with me, baby,” he begged.
Jade leaned forward. Planting her hands on either side of his shoulders, she began to rock. Without the weight of his body as a reminder of all the years of her helplessness, she let herself fly as only a woman can fly.
All too soon, the sensations of pleasure went from good to meltdown. Suddenly every pulse point in her body was splintering into a thousand pieces, shattering like breaking crystal from a musical note pitched too high.
“Ooooh…ooooh no…oooooh God.”
At the same time, Jade’s climax grabbed Luke, pulling him under so fast that he forgot to hold on. One second he’d been riding the high. Then he fell without warning—without ropes or nets. He spilled himself in her until there was nothing left of him to give, and still he couldn’t break free.
Finally it was Jade who broke the spell. When she collapsed on his chest, her body limp and spent, he managed to roll over with her still in his arms. With his last ounce of strength, he reached down and pulled up the covers.
The peace that came afterward was a combination of silence and satisfaction. Luke was drifting between heaven and sleep when he realized Jade was crying.
“Talk to me,” he said softly.
“I never knew. All these years, and I never knew.”
“What?”
“That it didn’t have to hurt.”
He held her tighter. The words he was thinking were locked deep inside his heart. And that night, after she’d finally gone to sleep, he lay vigilant beside her, watching the shadows for the demons that had yet to be slain.
Earl Walters had a vested interest in closing the file on Jade Cochrane, and even though they had the man responsible for murdering Raphael, as well as the nurse and the Tyler woman, Earl knew he was just the gun. They wanted to know who’d aimed it.
He picked up the phone and put a call in to the captain of the homicide division.
“Charlie…it’s Earl. Bring me up to speed on what we know about the Newton case.”
Charlie Black reached for a file, then flipped it open as he leaned back in his chair.
“Myers is lead on this, so his file is probably more complete than what I have here, although we just finished an update. Newton came out of surgery around eleven last night. He’s in critical care but expected to make a full recovery. He’s not a happy camper, though. Seems he’s real indignant about his last victim. That Raphael fellow had AIDS. Mr. Newton would like to complain that his rights have been violated, but he can’t figure out how to make it work, considering the fact that he did go into an isolation ward without permission and off the two people in Room 342. He’s trying to make a case that someone should have ‘told’ him ahead of time that the guy he killed had AIDS. Now he’s almost certainly been infected, and he’s scared shitless.”
Earl chuckled. “Feels pretty good when the perp gets a dose of his own medicine, doesn’t it?”
“And then some,” Charlie said. “Myers said there wasn’t anything in Newton’s suitcase that would lead them in the direction of who’d hired him. However, someone happened to mention in the meeting this morning that since he was taken straight from the scene to E.R., we never had the chance to go through his clothes. So Myers and his partner are on their way to the hospital as we speak to take the clothing into evidence.”
“Let me know what you find,” Earl said. “I’ve got a personal interest in seeing this whole ugly thing resolved. Oh, one other thing…those drawings I gave you…the ones that Miss Cochrane drew of the men who’d molested her…what’s happening there?”
“We turned them over to Vice. Last I heard, they were running them through some national database, trying to match up the drawings with the mug shots of known molesters, but it’s gonna be tough. As I understand it, the drawings are the way the men looked fifteen to twenty years ago. Most of the mug shots will be more recent. It’s gonna be difficult to get matches. And even if we did, we’d need proof besides her word against his…and, we’re looking at different laws in different states. For some of them, the time has lapsed for charges to be filed.”
“Yeah,” Earl said; then he spun his swivel chair toward th
e window, squinting against the daylight. “You know…that damned bunch of newshounds has been plaguing us and the Cochranes ever since this mess came to light.”
Charlie frowned. “Yes, but don’t they always?”
“You also know it seems like someone’s always leaking info that we don’t want told. I’d hate to think what might happen if those drawings ever fell into the wrong hands. We might never be able to identify them, but I’ll bet there are some people out there across the nation who could. Before they started fucking children, they were someone’s sons and brothers and friends. Now, if they’re still alive and they’re not in jail, they’re probably someone’s husbands and fathers and bosses. It would be a crying shame if someone accidentally knocked over the rocks they’ve been hiding under.”
Charlie started to smile.
“It would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Of course, we can’t do that. Infringing on civil rights without proof, or something like that.”
“Yeah…civil rights,” Earl echoed, then turned his back to the window. “Keep me posted on what Myers and his partner find out.”
“Will do,” Charlie said.
Larry Myers had been a homicide detective for eight years. Before that, he’d been a uniformed street cop. He’d seen his share of neglected and abused children, but what he’d learned about Sam Cochrane’s daughter made him sick. He’d seen her twice in public. Once going into the morgue. Once coming out. It was his personal opinion that there should come a time in one’s life when your dues got paid in full—when the crap that comes with everyday living has come and gone and what’s left of your life is pure gravy. Except, of course, for the day that you die. That was something that comes to everyone. If ever a person deserved some happiness, it was Jade Cochrane. And he wanted to find the person who’d put out the hit more than he’d ever wanted to do anything in his life. Because of that, he had been saying prayers all the way to the hospital that they would get the break they’d been waiting on. If there was nothing in the clothes, maybe Newton would be ready to talk. Maybe he would give up the man who’d hired him. And maybe hell would freeze over before dark.
Myers flashed his badge at the nurses’ station. “We’ve come to pick up Johnny Newton’s personal belongings,” he said.