Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3)

by Morgan Kelley

  She understood his worries, but she had ones of her own that were far worse. “Grey, I can’t stay here. I’m afraid to be alone. I have to be by your side. I’m not ready yet,” she whispered, needing him desperately. “Please don’t make me stay here without you.”

  The words fired everything in his body. His woman wanted him, even after he let her down. She was asking him to hold her up in her moment of weakness.

  “Emma,” he whispered, staring at her lips.

  God!

  He just wanted a taste.

  One little sip from her glorious mouth and he’d be okay the rest of the day.

  She couldn’t move, she was trapped beneath him, her hands pinned above her head. What she wanted to do was jump the man, but she was helpless and imprisoned beneath him. “Greyson,” she replied.

  He gave in to weakness and temptation. He knew they had people right down the hall, but he had to have her. He couldn’t wait. The sex last night was healing, but in that moment, it was going to be wild, explosive, and all consuming. All he could think of was sinking deep into his woman’s body and feeling her slide naked across his flesh.

  The kiss seemed to go on forever. Finally, he broke away, staring down at her. “I need you now. I’m going to lock the door and in the mean time you need to get naked, Emma,” he demanded. “Or I’ll do it for you and you can explain after the fact to our company why you had to change your clothes.”

  He didn't have to tell her twice.

  The second he was off her, she began stripping and shedding garments as fast as possible. When he returned to the side of the bed, he was out of his shirt but still in his jeans.

  “Let me,” she offered, running her fingertips over his erection as she slowly unbuttoned his pants and dropped the zipper. When he was free, she ran her palm across the warm silkiness of his skin.

  “Oh, honey,” he moaned, trying to keep his voice down. There was something completely erotic, knowing there were other people in their house, and they were sharing a sexual interlude.

  “What do you want, Grey? Because I really want to taste you,” she whispered, licking the tip of him.

  Christ, he almost exploded with the visual in front of him and the ones competing in his brain. “Yes, use your mouth, Emma,” he replied, burying his one hand in her hair, to control his wife’s motion. As he watched, he swore he was the luckiest man in the world.

  When she slid her teeth across him, he shivered. “You have to stop,” he ordered, or it would be a very fast ending.

  Emma obeyed and yanked his pants down his hips. “I want you so bad, Grey,” she practically purred as she scurried back across the bed and motioned to him with her crooked finger.

  He followed, getting warmer and warmer, as his naked wife moved just out of his reach to tease him. Finally needing her, he grabbed her ankle and yanked his little vixen towards him. She slid across the sheets and again he had her right where he wanted her.

  “Grey,” she moaned, as he was pressed intimately against her. “Please, I want you,” she begged, running her hands up his chest.

  He couldn’t put together a coherent thought. All that flashed repeatedly through his mind was having his way with his wife.

  In one fluid motion, he slid deep into her body, swearing that he’d been without her for a lot longer than a few hours. Before she caught her breath, he began moving, taking his wife with him for the most pleasurable of rides.

  Their joining was pure bliss.

  “Grey,” she whispered, burying her hands deep in his hair and pulling his mouth to hers. It was a tangled battle of tongues, as they stayed locked together.

  He increased the speed and depth, swallowing the moans he was pulling from her body. God, this was so damn good, he never wanted it to stop. He was going to start having sex with his wife with people in the next room more often.

  Pulling his lips from hers, he stared down into her love filled eyes. “You’re mine, Emma. Don’t ever forget it,” he hissed, leaning down to whisper far more in her ear as he made promises and demands that he knew his woman would easily accept.

  “Oh, Grey,” she whispered, feeling her entire body ready to fracture apart at his words.

  With more force, he slammed into her, pushing his wife over the edge. When she opened her mouth to shout his name, he quickly covered her lips with his hand, praying he too could keep quiet.

  Staring down at her pinned beneath him as he controlled their frenzied mating, it didn't take much to make him tumble too. With one swift thrust, he exploded, pouring into his wife and falling headfirst into the pleasure.

  The room continued to spin, as he rested his body over the full length of her. His elbows were all that kept him from crushing her. Slowly, he regained his focus as he lifted his head from her neck where it had been buried.

  Emma gazed up into his eyes. “Please Grey. Don’t leave me here alone.”

  He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “You’re coming with me, but you need to stay by my side and wear body armor.”

  She nodded, hugging him. “Thank you for understanding.”

  Greyson stood and pulled his wife gently to her feet. When he began helping her dress, Emma started giggling. Once more, he had to silence her with his hand. “Emma! Shhhhhh.”

  It wasn’t easy, but she managed to stop. “Let me fix your hair, Grey,” she said, straightening the pieces that were sticking up. “Am I okay?” she asked, waiting for him to give her the inspection.

  “Perfect,” he grinned, supremely proud that he had scored with his wife in the middle of the day. “I almost want to go out there and discuss my testosterone levels with Curtis.”

  She shook her head. “Come on, tiger. Try not to look so damn smug.” Emma watched him attempt it, but it was still a bit too suspicious.

  “We’re screwed,” she muttered, as again the giggles were trying to surface.

  “I’m trying to but look at it from my perspective. I just got lucky with my gorgeous wife. This is a pretty damn good day for me.”

  She held his hand as he led her back into the room. Once there, everyone looked up from their tablets.

  Curtis knew immediately, only because he’d worked with them before. Now, he’d have his fun. “So, is Emma getting lucky,” he paused dramatically, “and going with you tomorrow?” he inquired, grinning wickedly.

  “Yes, she is,” Croft answered, pulling out her chair. “We’ve negotiated, and we’ve come to the agreement. She’s my shadow all day tomorrow.”

  “She scored on that one,” Briggs teased. “I hope you don’t have to go back to negotiations for anything at the office.”

  Greyson kissed his wife on the top of the head and smacked his partner at the same time.

  Both agents stared, not sure what they missed.

  “Did you find anything?” he asked, forcing them to refocus.

  Paris glanced up from his tablet. “We have identification on the last victim, or ‘nice’,” he stated, turning his tablet around. “Mary Lou Harwell was an elementary school teacher,” Paris added. “She was reported missing by the principal this morning, when she never showed up the last two days.”

  That gave them a time line. “Okay,” Croft said, crossing his arms. “So we know he took her at least a day before he killed her. That means that he’s keeping the victims somewhere and it has to be a private, secluded residence.”

  Emma agreed. “Since this is Vegas, it won’t likely be an apartment or high rise. He’d have to carry her up the stairs or past people. He’d want secluded and someplace hidden.”

  “Do you remember hearing anything when you were taken, ma’am?” Paris asked, hoping that she could tell them something.

  She shook her head, knowing they didn't plan on telling anyone what they suspected. If they had to, they’d let Curtis in on it, but as of that moment, they didn't know who to trust.

  “Let’s focus on the women who he did kill, and worry about Emma later. She may remember something. She did have a nast
y bump on the head.”

  Looking down at his watch, he figured it was time to send the team home. It was getting close to evening, and they would keep working at their perspective places. “I’ll be in the ME lab first thing in the morning,” Greyson offered, standing. “You all were up early this morning, so head on out. We can meet up at the FBI office tomorrow and get our assignments. Hopefully by then we’ll have some people to interview.”

  Both agents stood. “It was nice meeting you, Emma,” stated Tessa, pushing in her chair. “See you tomorrow.”

  Paris mimicked the same motion and nodded at them.

  “Good job on the profile,” Emma added to the agent.

  “Thank you.” Following his partner out, it was hard to not be worried about his performance and what Ethan Blackhawk would have to add to his file.

  “You’re free too, Curtis,” Emma said, waiting for the man to pack up his things.

  “Do you both have anything planned for tonight?” he asked hopefully. Briggs wasn’t really in the mood to head back to Detective Westmore’s apartment. It didn't feel welcoming there anymore.

  “We’re going to work.” Croft said, cleaning up his area. “Probably have dinner later and keep Emma off her feet.”

  It was now or never. If he was going to ask, he should do it now. “Can I stay and work here with you both?”

  Something about his words didn't seem right and they stared at each other. Croft looked surprised, but Emma didn't. That was very telling that she was aware something was brewing.

  “You know that you’re always welcome here, so stay if you want.” Croft started towards the kitchen, as Emma and his partner took a seat in the living room. “Would you like a beer?” he asked, putting his things on the table before heading to the fridge.

  “Yeah, I could definitely use one,” Briggs replied.

  Emma waited until her husband returned and handed her an open one before she spoke. “Want to talk about it?” she asked, sipping hers.

  Apparently, he was really bad at pretending things were okay. “There’s not much to discuss.”

  Greyson hopped the couch, much like his partner had done earlier. When he landed beside his wife, he pulled her feet up into his lap, and waited for the rest to all come out.

  “You look upset, Curtis. We both know you well enough to notice when something’s not right,” Emma stared at him. “We’ll listen and not judge.”

  He sighed, sliding back into the chair facing them. “I got up this morning and Brynn was already in the shower.”

  Croft wasn’t getting it. “So?”

  Briggs didn't know how to state it without being crass in front of Emma. She was a lady and his grandmother would kick the crap out of him for talking about sex in front of one.

  “When you get up in the morning, do you rush off to get a shower when you don’t have to be at work for ninety more minutes, while Emma’s in bed with you?”

  Croft had to think about it.

  Emma didn't, because she already had a clue as to what was going on with them. “Grey, he’s trying to delicately state that Brynn isn’t waiting for him to get up in the morning,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

  “Oh,” now he got it. That was a bad sign. They had only been a couple for a few weeks and they were both young. Morning lovin’ should be pretty high up on the ‘to do’ list. They should still be in the sex phase of their relationship. While it varied for everyone, it generally lasted longer than a month.

  Thinking about their relationship, he prayed it would last forever.

  “Then, after adding insult to injury, she leaves the bathroom this morning fully dressed too. I’m betting that you and Emma dress together,” he clarified, in case his partner wasn’t getting that either.

  “We do,” Croft admitted. In fact, he liked watching his wife wander around in nothing but a pair of lacy panties. Feeling over heated, he chugged his beer.

  “See? Just thinking about her gets you all worked up. In fact, you couldn’t keep your hands off her with us sitting in your dining room. I don’t know what I’ve done, but somewhere it’s gone off the track.”

  Emma couldn’t comment. She knew what the problem was, but her partner had shared and that meant something.

  “Well, how’s the sex?” Croft asked, knowing that was a big indicator. “Is it still hot and heavy? Maybe she’s just stressed at work and needs a couple of off days. It’s normal to have dips in a relationship.”

  Curtis started laughing. “Are we all being adults and being honest here?” he inquired.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s knocking on death’s door.”

  Both of them felt bad for him.

  “At first, I thought about the stress thing, but then there’s you, Greyson. You have the most stressful job out of the four of us, and I’m going to assume the sex is still great.”

  They both looked at Emma. “You want me to be honest?” she paused, “It’s been better,” she replied, teasing him. Immediately, he gave her the look.

  “I’ll take you back there again,” he retorted, pointing towards their bedroom.

  “This is what I mean! You joke around, tease each other and are playful. I feel like I’m just her roommate with occasionally mediocre bed benefits. I don’t think that she wants to be with me anymore. I feel like her heart isn’t in it.”

  Emma hated to see him suffering. “Maybe some time apart would make you see things more clearly,” she offered. Since she knew he was probably right, Emma wanted to get him to see it for himself, before getting dumped.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter,” he stated, sipping his beer.

  Croft knew that was definitely wrong. “It does matter. I know how it feels to get your heart broken,” he shared, hoping it would help his friend out. After he told him the entire story, he took Emma’s hand in his. “It’s not going to work if it’s not meant to happen. You may just need to come to the conclusion that she isn’t the babe for you.”

  Emma punched him. “We’re women not babes, so stop talking about us like we’re things you collect.”

  He winked lecherously. “You’re most definitely my babe in a collection of one.”

  Briggs laughed. “You’re lucky that she’s hurt or you’d be in trouble, but then again, you might like that.”

  Croft grinned. “Hell yeah, I would.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? Emma clinked her beer bottle off her husband’s in a silent toast to that.

  “Curtis, you can move back here if you want. You know your room is open. It took me forty one years to find Emma. It may not happen at twenty four,” Croft admitted.

  “So, I can stay here indefinitely? I only ask, because you have one rockin’ pad and a smoking hot roommate that cooks for you.”

  It was Curtis who got the bottle clink that time from Croft.

  “Yeah I do, and you can stay until you’re ready. There’s no rush for you to find a place. This condo is big enough for the three of us.”

  “Thanks guys,” he replied, feeling the pressure release a little from his chest. At least he had a place to go.

  “You just need to sit back and let it play out. What’s meant to happen will, Curtis,” Emma promised. Meanwhile, she made a mental note to talk to her partner as soon as possible. If the woman wasn’t happy it was one thing, but Brynn shouldn’t be dragging the entire relationship through the mud. Just cut the cord and spare the poor boy’s feelings, before someone’s heart really got hurt.

  * * *

  Brynn sat in the vice squad room laughing at all their stories. It had been a long day, and what she really wanted was to go home, take a shower and crash.

  Then, she realized it wouldn’t be alone. There was still the Curtis Briggs situation waiting for her when she arrived there.

  Shit!

  All she really wanted to do was escape it and not have to deal with it tonight. They’d all spent hours sitting in cars on stakeouts, buying drugs and gathering tips. The last thing that s
he needed was more drama.

  “Hey, Brynn,” yelled Detective Maguire. “You want to grab a beer with us, or are you homicide detectives big stiffs?”

  “Please,” she retorted back. “You wouldn’t know stiff if you found it in your hand.” All the guys started laughing, including Maguire.

  “Come on! It’s just a few beers.”

  She thought about it, weighing all her options and wondering what to do.

  If she went, there would be a fight.

  If Brynn sent a text, there definitely would be an argument.

  So, by just going and saying nothing, it was still a battle.

  Since Brynn couldn’t win, she decided to just go for it. Later, she would deal with the bossy man fall out if it became an argument. For now, Brynn earned a night out with the men in vice.

  “Count me in, but Maguire’s buying, since he’s easy.”

  They all walked out laughing, including Brynn. Maybe a little time away from Curtis wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing.

  * * *

  Greyson Croft was doing searches on the dead women when there was a knock on their door. Okay, no one should be coming to their condo after eight at night. The only person it could be was Brynn, and he didn't believe the woman would just show up.

  Peeking out the hole, he noticed it was once again security. He looked over his shoulder at his partner, nodding at Emma as a silent message passed between them.

  On cue, Curtis slid protectively in position, placing his body in front of his partner’s wife.

  Opening the door, he waited for the man’s reason for being there. Hopefully, it wasn’t going to be anything bad. He’d had enough of that the last few days to last a long time.

  “Mr. Croft, I’m real sorry for bothering you tonight, but we have a big situation and need your help rectifying it.”

  He couldn’t imagine what could possibly be the problem. “What can I do for you, Henry?” The man looked frazzled.

  “We have a crowd of media outside. They’re refusing to leave, blocking the sidewalks, and demanding some information from someone about your wife. They’re shouting that they believe she’s dead and there’s an FBI cover up. We want to keep your privacy intact but the other condo owners are getting pissed. Everyone’s a prisoner inside the building at this point. Is there anything you can possibly do?”