Wicked Fascination

by J. M. Brister

  She looked at her father with the most intensity she could muster, and said, "I am not trying to upset you, but I want to be here with Brian. He has been trying to protect me..."

  Before she could say anything else, her father gave her a big hug. After all that had happened during the weekend, it felt good to get reassurance from her father.

  “I'm starting to realize that I had probably been smothering you for the last few months," he told her. "I know you've always been so independent before."

  "I needed it, though," she said quietly. "I don't know what I would have done without you. But..." She trailed off.

  How could she explain it to her father how she felt about Brian? Somehow, it all felt too soon to like another man. Heck, she would have never thought that she could even see herself dating a man like Brian: successful, handsome, sweet, with a body to die for.

  But then again, they weren't really dating, were they? She still wasn't sure exactly where she stood with him. She had slept in his bed for crying out loud. He had held her, kissed her, comforted her, and stood up for her. Freya supposed that she should feel lucky to have been able to spend time with such a man. Men like Brian and her father made her feel like there were still some good men in this world.

  "Just promise me something," her father continued, his voice quieting a bit. "Just be careful...with everything. I've known Brian for a while now, and I would trust him with my life...and yours. But please, just be cautious with him."

  Freya's face felt as if it were on fire. She had a feeling that she knew what her father was implying, that she and Brian might become more...intimate eventually. It was embarrassing that her father was bringing it up, but she supposed that he had a good reason.

  "Ha, I'm sorry, kiddo," her father said, letting out a chuckle. "That came out wrong, but I guess you knew what I mean. It's just that..." He trailed off, looking at her intently and eying that fact that she was indeed wearing clothes that Brian had gotten her: a soft, cream sleeveless top and a pair of skinny jeans. The scars on her wrists were showing for the whole world, and if her hair hadn't been hanging over her back, the scars there would be visible as well. It was an outfit that she could see herself wearing before James, and it had taken Brian to get her back into cute clothes again. "It's just that you are looking so great now, and I'm glad. I also know it's partially to do with Brian, so I guess that I should be thankful."

  "I am too." And she was. She truly was.

  It was at that moment that she heard movement from behind them. Turning, she saw Brian coming down the stairs, looking amazing as always in a black t-shirt that stretched nicely over his chest and arms and a pair of jeans that fit him in all the right places. His gray eyes were piercing. The fact that he hadn't shaved that morning was creating a stir in Freya that she had thought that she'd never feel again. This man was too much, and for the time being, he was hers.

  Changing the subject, her father told him, "It's about time for me to head out. I wanted to thank you for everything that you have done. You've...really helped my daughter, saved her life from what I've heard."

  "It's nothing, Joe," Brian said, holding out his hand.

  The men shook hands firmly. It was an unspoken conversation between the two, and Freya knew that everything was okay between them.

  When her father had gone, Freya felt nothing but apprehension. What now exactly? She was safe for the time being, but what exactly was she supposed to do about Brian?

  "You should be off of your foot," Brian said quietly, his voice low, sexy.

  Oh, why does this man have to drive me crazy? She thought.

  He moved closer to her and touched her shoulder. Interestingly enough, she didn't flinch anymore when he touched her. His touch was comforting.

  "I know," she told him.

  Moving even closer to her, he pulled her in his arms from behind to the point that her head was resting on his shoulder. Her heart began to beat faster, and her lower belly began to ache with a need she hadn't had since James had ruined her. She wanted this man, she realized, though she wasn't quite sure how to express it or what to do about it. The thought of intimacy with another man was scary.

  "I'll take you to the doctor's today," he told her, his voice husky.

  She could feel his fingers slide down the profile of her ear. Her stomach fluttered with his touch. She wanted to melt into him, into his comforting embrace.

  "Okay," she murmured, her voice almost catching.

  His hands slid down to her shoulders and then moved down the length of her arms. She leaned against him farther, trying the best that she could not to either freak out...or make a complete fool of herself. When his hands trailed to her scarred wrists, she suddenly and involuntarily stiffened and pushed away from him.

  Spinning around, she tried to apologize, saying, "I'm...I'm sorry. I just..."

  She could see anger in his eyes.

  "Damn it, Freya. There's nothing to apologize for. It just pisses me off what he did to you."

  "I..I...can go cover up," she suggested, her words stammering.

  She went to move toward the stairway, but Brian's hand caught her arm and gently turned her so that she was facing him.

  "No," he said firmly. "You're beautiful the way you are."

  For the second time in what seemed like a matter of a few moments, Freya blushed, heat burning through her cheeks. She had never expected someone to say that to her again. Not with the way her body currently looked, anyhow. She had felt attractive before James, but now she just felt like a complete mess.

  Freya supposed that Brian saw how she was floundering with his words because he continued reassuringly, "Freya, seriously. I mean…You are a gorgeous woman. I'm sorry that I'm having a hard time not putting my hands all over you."

  He cracked a slight smile and so did she. Somehow, she was starting to realize that he was being honest with her.

  After a pause, Brian let the issue go for the time being, and told her, "Come on. Let's get you to the doctor."

  Sighing, she tried to hobble up the stairs to get her things and was quite pleasantly surprised when Brian scooped her up and carried her.

  7:08 PM

  Alexis tried to shake the nerves as she walked up the steps of a modest east Charlotte home. Why was it that she could be a titan in the courtroom, but the fact that she was doing investigating on her own frightened the crap out of her? She was ready for paperwork and depositions, not blindly knocking on someone's door without a legal reason. At this time, her heels were clicking on the pathway up to Ms. Crane (or formerly Ms. Johnson's) doorway. Alexis had a game plan in mind of what she was about to say to the woman, although she wasn't quite sure if that was going to work out.

  The fact that Alexis was even here in the first place was astounding to even herself. She had had a long day with court in the morning and a ton of work in the afternoon. Finally being done, the absolute last thing that she wanted to do was go off on an investigation that had absolutely nothing to do with any of the cases that she was working on. But here she was, following orders from Howard.

  She sighed with the fact that she had even allowed that man to get into her life again. Hadn't he made it perfectly clear a year ago that he could care less? But then, here he was again, driving her absolutely crazy. At this point, she wasn't even sure if she was doing this for the Morgan girl or if she really wanted to rekindle things with Howard.

  He seemed to be...different after a year: a lot more mature and very much different from when she had dated him. Yes, he was still the wise-cracking detective that he had been when she had met him, but something had changed about him, something that she might be interested in, despite all of the warning signs that were going off in her head.

  After reaching the door, Alexis knocked on it strongly enough to let the homeowner know that she meant business. There were a few moments where she thought that no one was going to answer the door. Then, she heard shuffling from inside the house. The door opened a crack, revealing a
woman's face of about fiftyish or sixtyish. It was hard to tell.

  "Yes?" The woman asked, a look of worry on her face.

  "Ma'am, my name is Alexis Montgomery. I'm an Assistant District Attorney for Mecklenburg County. I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes. You're Ms. Crane, I presume?"

  Holding her breath, Alexis watched as the door creaked open a little bit farther, and then it opened completely. The woman that stood at the doorway was wearing a pair of faded, outdated jeans and a worn t-shirt. She had graying hair that was swept up into a ponytail. Overall, the woman looked tired.

  "Yes...I'm sorry. What is this about?" The Crane woman asked.

  "It's in reference to Alexander Clark," Alexis stated.

  She held her breath, hoping that the woman wouldn't just slam the door in her face.

  Instead, Crane let out a hiss through her teeth and shook her head.

  "I don't want to talk about him," she stated flatly.

  She started to close the door.

  "Wait!" Alexis exclaimed in desperation. "It's important."

  It was about all that she could say. What was she supposed to tell the woman? That her ex-husband's illegitimate son might be a serial rapist and possibly a murderer?

  Crane squinted at Alexis and stood for a moment as if pondering.

  Then she sighed and said, "Come on in. You look desperate. Besides, it's not like I owe anything to him."

  It was with a feeling of relief that Alexis entered the modest home.

  They moved past a formal living room that looked like it was rarely used and down a hallway to a more comfortable living area with a dated kitchen and furniture. Apparently, Ms. Crane had gotten hosed in the divorce—or there hadn’t been a lot of assets to split in the first place.

  Crane gestured to a couch and Alexis sat down wearily, noting that a spring was broken in one of the cushions. She watched as Crane sat down next to her in an old recliner.

  “So, what do you want to know about that hellish young man?” Crane said, her face twisted in disgust.

  Bingo.

  Crane was going to talk after all. Alexis felt a surge of excitement course through her.

  “Can we keep this strictly between us?” Alexis asked pointedly. “This cannot get back to your ex-husband. It’s important. A young woman’s life is at stake.”

  “Why would I talk to that asshole?” Crane asked, giving out a short laugh.

  Well, that solves that problem, Alexis thought.

  “Okay. I’m just checking,” Alexis told the older woman.

  “So, what’s this all about? A young woman’s life is in danger?”

  Alexis took a deep breath and pulled out the police sketch of James Walker. She showed it to Crane, and the woman frowned.

  “Does this look like Alexander Clark?”

  “Maybe. Features are a bit off. I only met that son-of-a-bitch once though. He’s got one of those memorable faces that sociopaths have: handsome, but you know he’s evil deep down. James thought he could charm anyone—that no one could see through him. Well, he couldn’t fool me. After meeting him, I realized I couldn’t have anything to do with that man, which meant divorce. My ex was very close to him—all behind my back for years.

  Alexis tensed at the mention of the name ‘James.’ She hadn’t brought up the name James Walker, but Crane had freely used his apparent preferred name.

  “You said ‘James,’ not Alexander. Why is that?” Alexis asked.

  Crane shrugged.

  “That’s what he liked to be called. I didn’t question it. Say, that looks like a police sketch. Do you think James did something?”

  Alexis nodded.

  “Doesn’t surprise me. What’d he do?”

  Biting her lip, Alexis decided to share a little bit of information with the woman. It could help give a bit of a guilt trip for Crane.

  “I’m helping a detective try and solve a brutal rape case that went cold six months ago.”

  Crane’s hands flew to her mouth and she said, “Oh dear! How awful! I’m so sorry. I was probably a bit flip before. What do you need from me?”

  “Mostly, I need help tracking down James. I think the person who may be able to tell us who would cooperate is his birth mother. Do you know where she lives? We couldn’t track her down.”

  “Oh, that bitch was named in the divorce somewhere, I’m sure of it. I can talk to my lawyer and see. Give me your phone number, and I’ll forward you the information. Anything I can do to help.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Wait. Why not get this from my ex-husband? He’s the chief of police. Shouldn’t he be helping?”

  Alexis shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “We have to be sensitive to the fact that he appears to be very fond of his son, and we only have circumstantial evidence that James is the perpetrator in this crime. We don’t want to make waves.”

  Crane nodded and said, “Understandable. The man chose his son over our marriage.”

  Alexis thanked the woman and left, feeling excited about the case for the first time. They were getting somewhere for once. She immediately took out her cellphone as she walked away from the home and dialed Howard. He needed to know.

  Chapter 17

  Tuesday June 9

  12:07 AM

  Brian’s hands slowly ran down Freya’s naked body, and she slowly moaned at his touch. He leaned in to kiss her, his body covering hers. It was a delicious feeling—his chest rubbing against her breasts, her stomach. Nothing about this was oppressive. Everything felt right.

  His mouth claimed hers, and her stomach fluttered at the contact of his soft lips on hers. The stubble of his five o’clock shadow rubbed around her mouth, but she didn’t care. She wanted this badly. She felt alive for once.

  She felt…

  Off.

  Something was wrong. She just didn’t know what. This didn’t feel quite right. It didn’t feel…

  Freya woke up.

  Her eyes darted around Brian’s darkened bedroom, her heart pounding fiercely. Realizing that it had just been a dream, she closed her eyes and sighed.

  But it had been a good dream, she thought. A very, very good dream.

  Her eyes snapped back open when she realized that she had just had her first happy sex dream since her attack. And it had been with Brian. The knowledge of this made her smile and snuggle down into the pillow a bit deeper. She felt nothing but happiness and contentment.

  “Are you okay?” Asked the husky male voice from beside her.

  Freya nearly jumped out of her skin at Brian’s voice, feeling as if she had been caught doing something naughty. Well, technically she had been doing naughty things in her dream, hadn’t she?

  “I’m fine,” she said a little too quickly.

  Brian chuckled and moved closer to her on the bed so that his torso was right along with hers. He was just wearing boxers, and she was wearing a silk strapless top and matching boy shorts—another one of those beautiful pieces of clothing he had purchased for her. Still, the proximity and what they were wearing made the scene extremely intimate, though she didn’t feel afraid.

  “Are you sure?” He asked, running a finger up and down her arm. “You were…moaning in your sleep. Didn’t seem like bad dreams though.”

  Oh, no! She thought.

  Embarrassment burned in her face, and she was glad that the lights were off because she knew that she’d be bright red.

  “I said I’m fine. Just tired. It was a long day.”

  There was at least some truth to that. It had been a long day. Between the emotional toll of seeing her father off, going to the doctor about her foot, and spending the rest of the day with Brian, it felt like she had done a lot—at least for her. Dr. Franklin was pleased with how her foot was doing and thought that she had just tweaked it badly. He had referred her to a psychiatrist in the area in case Freya wanted a second opinion. Her dad was overnighting refills of her other prescriptions to Brian, though he put the return address as
his administrative assistant—just in case.

  Unfortunately, the doctor hadn’t been able to get Freya a boot for her foot, so she would have to deal with being uncomfortable for a while.

  Overall, things seemed to be looking up from that angle. Now, she just had to deal with these growing sexual feelings that she had for Brian and figure out what she was going to do with them.

  “Okay,” Brian said, “but that doesn’t tell me what you were moaning about.”

  He took his other hand and trailed it across her face, then to the shell of her ear, down her neck, and to the curve of her torso. Freya let in a quick breath at his touch. It wasn’t overwhelming or violating. It felt…good. She wanted more. She wanted more of him. Perhaps she could just let the cat out of the bag and tell him so that she could see his reaction? Then, maybe she could gauge to see his level of interest in her.

  She knew that he was attracted to her and that he cared about her, but did that mean he’d want more? Did she want more? The thought didn’t sound so dreadful anymore—at least not when she thought about it with Brian.

  When she took too long to respond, he persisted, saying, “Tell me.”

  “I was dreaming about you,” she blurted out before she could overthink it anymore.

  Immediately, her face burned hot, and she wanted to shrink away from him. Instead, Brian seemed to sense her embarrassment and kissed her gently on top of her forehead.

  “Dreaming of me, huh?” He asked, his voice low. “Anything in particular that I should know?”

  “I was…” She said, trailing off for a moment. It was now or never. “I was having a sex dream about you.”

  Freya could hear Brian inhale sharply. His face hovered over hers, and even in the dark, she could see desire in his eyes.

  Uh-oh. What had she just done?

  “Oh, really?” He asked huskily. “How was I?”

  “Um…good.”

  “That’s good,” he said, gently kissing her on the lips.

  She welcomed the warmth of them. They moved across her own sensually, slowly, creating a need deep in her lower belly that she hadn’t felt in a long time.