by Jo Davis
“They’re not sure yet. No water in the lungs ruled out drowning. The ME says there were traces of Rohypnol in her system, but the only marks on her body were made by ligatures on her wrists.”
“Date rape gone bad?” Immediately she cursed her stupid tongue. Shane’s sister had been date raped in high school, and it took years for her to recover emotionally. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said softly. “It’s a valid question. Anyway, the item of note is the rosary found around her neck. The mother claims it wasn’t hers or her daughter’s.”
“A signature?” she breathed. “Shit.”
“Exactly. I hope there’s not a second body, but something tells me there will be. This wasn’t random, a crime of passion or simply of opportunity. My gut says it’s much more.”
“Your gut is usually right. That’s why you’re the best at what you do.”
He grinned, shaking his head at the praise. “Thanks, but it’s easy to be good when everyone around you is awesome, too.”
She watched, her stomach growling as he dumped the pasta into a colander, drained the water, and poured the noodles into a bowl. The table was already set for two with the other dishes waiting, so they sat down together and he served their plates.
As they sat, he held up his glass. “A toast. To working together and solving this case with flying colors.”
“Cheers.”
They clinked glasses and drank. Then came the chicken and pasta, which was excellent. “You’re a fantastic cook.”
“Thanks. I don’t get a chance to do much of it and when I do, it’s usually for the guys. So I’m used to making chili, grilling burgers, that sort of comfort food.” He shrugged. “You gave me an excuse to do some real cooking.”
“So that’s what I am? An excuse?” she teased.
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Right.”
“Just kidding. So, tell me about your week. How’s Taylor doing with the wrist?”
Shane launched into a rant about his partner that was colored with such affection he might’ve been talking about a brother. The mood between Shane and her was light and easy. She was pleasantly surprised by how well they got along when this was their first time alone. He was excellent company. The woman who finally convinced him to settle down would be one lucky bitch.
“Enough about my kooky partner.” After taking another bite of pasta, he regarded her thoughtfully. “Aren’t you an only child?”
“I am. I’m surprised you remember that much about me from school.”
“I wish I’d taken the time to get to know you back then,” he said sincerely. Before she could respond to that, he went on. “What happened to you after high school? You weren’t around for a while, then suddenly I spotted you one day as a rookie on the force.”
Swallowing a pang of old hurt, she picked at her chicken. “My dad moved to Maine a couple of months after graduation and I went with him. I hated it there, especially the fishy smell and the cold weather, but I was stuck for a while. I mean, what else was an eighteen-year-old supposed to do? I couldn’t move out until I had a career and saved some money.”
“You say that as though you were itching to be gone.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Even before my mom died, my dad and I didn’t get along. He’s not abusive, or a drunk, or any of those clichés. He’s just a disagreeable, cranky bastard that nobody can please no matter how hard they try.”
“Hard to live like that, constantly on edge,” he sympathized.
“And how. I’ll say this for the old goat—he gave me the extra incentive to work like a dog and achieve my goals so I could become independent.” She paused, remembering. “I graduated from the police academy, and I thought he wouldn’t show. But there he sat, in the third row. After the ceremony he found me, gave me a hug. Said he was proud of me. Dammit.” She dashed a tear from the corner of her eye.
Shane put down his fork and laid a hand over hers. “He loves you. Plenty of men don’t know how to show it, and that was his way.”
“Yeah. I miss the old fart sometimes,” she confessed. “I don’t know why.”
“You love him, too.” He gave her a gentle smile, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.
“I do. But I couldn’t stay there. Tennessee was calling me home.” And you were here. “I worked for a small police department up there for a few years, saved my money. Then I applied for the Sugarland PD, got the job, and packed as fast as humanly possible.”
“Maine’s loss, our gain. Does your dad still live there?”
She liked the warmth of his hand on hers. A lot. It awakened something inside her that she was sure wasn’t a good idea. “Yes. Won’t budge for the world, even though I offered to help him move back here. I guess he’ll stay there for the rest of his days.”
“You never know. Pop out a grandkid or two and he might change his tune.”
She snickered. “Like that’ll happen anytime soon.”
Shane withdrew his hand and she felt the loss immediately. She enjoyed his touch. Wanted more of it with a longing that almost physically hurt.
Get over it, girl. In that direction lies a load of heartache.
Finished eating, they cleared the table. She helped him put away the leftovers and load the dishwasher, then he poured them another glass of wine. Good thing she’d had food, or she’d be tipsy right about now. Not a good thing when in close quarters with a sexy hunk of male flesh.
“Ready to learn a little about this D/s stuff?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
She trailed him into the living room where he moved her coat and purse to a big easy chair. His laptop was sitting on the coffee table, along with a spiral notebook and a pencil. He took a seat on the sofa in front of the computer and gestured to the space next to him.
Nerves jittered again, and she fought to push them down. They were relating so well to each other, and she wanted that ease to continue in spite of the subject matter of their undercover jaunt.
“Here goes,” he said. “What I know about domination and submission could fit into a thimble, so there’s only room for improvement.”
“Same here. I’ve never been into that scene.”
Opening the laptop, he wiggled the mouse to wake up the screen. Next, the opened the Web browser and typed Domination and submission into the search field. And got about a gazillion hits. “Christ. Where to start?”
“With the basic definition, I suppose.”
He clicked on one of the first links and they began to scan the information. “Says here that it’s a lifestyle that’s frequently misunderstood as kink when what it’s really about is power. One partner’s need for another to take the reins, be in charge, and the other partner’s need to take care of their sub. Doesn’t have to be about sex,” he said in surprise. “I never thought of it like that.”
“Me, either. I never realized it’s more about caring and trust between partners, and that sex is just a small part of the big picture.”
Shane scribbled some notes. “That’s well and good, but something tells me that this group we’re going to infiltrate isn’t totally about hearts and flowers. I have a feeling our country club set is made up of a bunch of weekend dabblers who’re in it to get off and don’t have the first clue what D/s is supposed to be about.”
“From what we’re reading, I’m inclined to agree.” She paused. “And I’m thinking they won’t wear leather, collars, or anything that would draw the attention of the other club guests. We’re not going to need special clothing.”
“I get to leave my spiked collar at home? Goody.” Humor danced in his gray eyes.
“Lucky you.”
“We’ll show up dressed in our sexy best, something suitable for the rich folks that still puts off a vibe of available and ready to play.”
She agreed. “We’ll have to play up being a couple, like Rainey said. Drop a few words in willing ears here and there.” That thought, Shane’s proximity, his wo
nderful scent of musk and man, was starting to go to her head. Damn!
“Exactly.” Exiting the current page, he clicked on a new link. “This one gives more of the terminology. Check it out: if the man dominates, he’s the Dom and his partner typically refers to him as Master or Sir. If it’s the female, she’s the Domme and her partner calls her Mistress. Some live the lifestyle only during sex, and others live it in every aspect of their lives, twenty-four seven. Hard to imagine, huh?”
“Very. It does hold a certain strange appeal, though.”
He looked at her sharply, interest flashing across his face. “Really? I never knew you were such a bad girl at heart.” It seemed he was only half-joking.
Her pulse beat a bit faster, and arousal began low in her belly. “Then you should do your homework more often,” she replied, the statement coming out lower and more husky than she intended.
His lips curved upward and for a long, tense moment he simply stared at her. Then he went back to the article. After they’d read what information they could, he clicked on a link that took them to a D/s site that was almost all pictures demonstrating the lifestyle.
And what a demonstration. The pictures were mind-boggling. Couples were depicted in every possible position, both dressed and undressed. One showed an attractive woman on her knees in front of a fit, muscular man. His hand was buried in her long hair, guiding her mouth onto his rock-hard cock.
Instantly, the tension that had been simmering between them became heightened awareness. A very sexual awareness of each other that stretched to the breaking point and couldn’t be denied. Reaching out, Shane touched her cheek, then ran his thumb over her lips.
“May I kiss you?”
It’s all I’ve ever wanted. That and so much more.
“Yes,” she managed.
He paused, desire shining in his eyes. “I really shouldn’t.”
“I don’t care.”
That seemed to make up his mind. His lips touched hers and desire ignited her body. Her nipples tingled, puckered into tiny peaks. Her sex grew warm, and she needed to be touched. Her mouth opened to allow him to explore and his tongue worked magic. Explored and tasted. He drove her crazy.
“I want you,” he whispered between kisses.
“Yes.”
That was all the encouragement either of them required. The many reasons why this was a bad idea flew out the window. She helped him pull her cotton shirt over her head, didn’t think of protesting when he unclasped her bra. Then she was exposed to him and there was no awkwardness. Only passion and heat. Flames blazing higher.
Bending, he captured one pert nipple in his mouth and rolled it on his tongue, teasing it with his lips and teeth before moving to the other and lavishing it with the same attention. Little spirals of delight whirled though her, making her insane with needing him closer.
Blindly, she groped for his track pants, found the crotch. Behind the silky material was a hard ridge of flesh waiting to be freed. She didn’t make him wait for long. She worked the pants down, off his hips, to discover he was commando underneath, and sucked in a breath.
“Confident?”
“Hopeful,” he corrected with a groan as she wrapped her fingers around his hardness.
Stroking, she enjoyed his sounds of pleasure. The way he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, arched his hips into her touch. “You like that.”
“Yes. More, please . . .”
“Since you asked so nicely . . .”
Scooting around to reach him better, she bent and touched her tongue to the spongy head of his cock. His rod was flushed almost purple with excitement, and she realized that he had probably been fighting the same arousal she had since she’d arrived. That knowledge pleased her, made her feel pretty powerful.
Licking a pearly drop of pre-cum, she relished his salty taste. His skin was baby smooth, but he was pulsing steel underneath. She deep-throated him and loved that he buried his fingers in her hair, squeezing tight yet not hurting her. Sucking, wetting his shaft as she moved up and down, she drove him to the edge of desperation.
“God, Daisy! I need to be inside you!”
“I want that, too.” Sitting up, she moved off the sofa and stood. Quickly she ditched her shoes, jeans, and panties. “How hopeful were you?”
His grin was a bit sheepish as he removed a condom from the pocket of his track pants. “Answer your question?”
“Completely.” Some women might’ve been annoyed by his presumption, but she wasn’t. To her, it meant he had wanted her before she arrived, and cared enough to see to their protection.
Removing his pants, he took her hand. “Here, or my bedroom?”
“Here, please. I can’t wait!”
“Okay. Here, then again in my bedroom,” he replied seductively.
“God, yes.”
He led her around to the back of the sofa, positioning her to face it. “Hold on, bend over, and spread your legs.” She did, shaking with desire. “That’s it, sweetheart. Jesus, you’re so beautiful.”
She was beyond speaking as he trailed a rough finger down her spine. Shivering, she gasped as his fingertip ventured into the crack of her ass cheeks. He explored a place no one ever had before, causing naughty spears of lust to shoot through every limb.
Next he rubbed the vulnerable folds between her legs, taking his time to drive her insane. Found the little clit and teased it, making her arch into his touch and whimper like a slut. She didn’t care. It had been too damned long since she’d enjoyed a lover’s touch. The truth was, Shane was the one. There was nobody who could measure up to him, in every way.
“You’re so wet, baby. So ready for me.”
“Yes.”
The wrapper crinkled and in seconds the head of his cock was pushing inside her. He eased in with delicious slowness, making her shake. “I’m gonna fuck you hard, honey. You okay with that?”
“Do it!”
Despite his eagerness, he kept the pace leisurely at first, taking great care that she was pleasured along with him. His length burrowed deeper, stretching and filling her to a completion she’d never felt before. He branded her inside out, stroking, faster and faster. Soon he was fucking her hard and fast, and she clutched the back of the sofa, trying to stave off orgasm as long as possible.
But their bodies wouldn’t be denied. All too quickly his movements began to take on a frantic rhythm. His fingers dug into her hips and his big frame tensed.
“So close,” he rasped. “Can’t stop.”
“Don’t stop—gonna come!”
With a shout, he buried himself to the hilt. Began to jerk inside her and then slammed deep a few more times, riding out his orgasm. Daisy’s own orgasm exploded in a shower of fireworks, stronger than she’d imagined. She was blown away by the force of it, stripped down and made new.
They shuddered together for a few moments. Resting against her back, he said in her ear, “Why don’t we move this to my room? Then I can fuck you all night long.”
She smiled. “I think that’s the best plan I’ve ever heard.”
Oh, she had it bad. And she was going to regret giving this man even the tiniest piece of her heart. Eventually.
For now, she’d take this ride as far as it would travel.
3
When Shane promised a woman a mind-blowing night, he always delivered.
That the woman was Daisy was a scenario he’d never allowed himself to seriously consider, but he wouldn’t regret it. He fucked her twice more that night, and afterwards they slept wrapped in each other’s arms.
The sex was fantastic, just as he’d known it would be. Daisy was a responsive lover, so open and uninhibited. What’s more, she was intelligent and fun to be around. He was going to miss this when they parted ways.
And they would. He didn’t do forever, and he hoped she understood. Or that she wouldn’t be too upset.
He fell asleep thinking about her reaction and the niggle of guilt was still there when he opened his eyes to
find the sun shining through the curtains. Next to him, her warm, soft body snuggled closer and she moaned.
Chuckling, he spooned her and kissed her shoulder. “Awake?”
“Mmm.”
“Hungry?”
“I could eat,” she said sleepily. “Some wild man screwed the hell out of me last night.”
“You’ve got that backwards—some wild woman used me last night until I was a shriveled, pathetic husk.”
A small giggle shook her form and she hugged his arm, which was wrapped around her middle. “Nothing pathetic about that performance, detective.”
“Glad you think so.” He gave her another kiss, inhaling her sweet scent. “Bacon, eggs, and toast?”
“Perfect.” She rolled to stare up at him, raked her fingers through his hair. “What are we doing here, Shane?”
He winced inwardly. He’d expected to address the issue, but he’d hoped for a bit more time. To maybe just let the parting come about naturally, as horrible as that sounded.
“We’re having some fun,” he told her, trying for a lighthearted tone. “And why not? We like each other and we’re consenting adults.”
“For how long?” she asked quietly. “Until the case is over?”
He cupped her face. “It can’t last much longer than that. I mean, we work together.” That wasn’t the real issue, though, and they both knew it. He sighed. “Some men want the honeymoon and kids, a family dog.”
“But you’re not that guy.”
“No, honey. I’m not that guy.”
Then why does it feel so wrong, telling her that? Why does it make my stomach hurt?
“I understand.” She smiled brightly, but it seemed a bit sad. Forced. “Maybe I’m not that girl, either. So, breakfast?”
God, I’m an asshole.
He was both stricken and horribly relieved to have that talk behind them. She deserved nothing less than honesty, and he’d given her the truth. But it felt wrong, as though he was reciting his lines out of habit rather than conviction. Could he possibly want more than friendship with Daisy?
Confused, he decided to let it ride, for now. They took a quick, steamy shower together, managing plenty of kissing and sucking and another orgasm, before they finished and got dressed. As he whipped up breakfast, he paused in the act of flipping the bacon.