by Measha Stone
“Sophie, open your eyes and look at me.” The order came softly but held the authority of an emperor.
Opening her eyes, she breathed through her nose, afraid to say something stupid. She never worried about that. Why now, with him so close to her, did she get so tongue twisted and nervous.
“You are fucking gorgeous,” he said with a straight face.
She had no response.
“I can’t go slowly, not now, so you have to tell me if you need me to stop.” He ran the head of his cock through her slick folds. Just the brief touch of him against her clit spiraled her back toward the edge. “Keep your eyes on me, do you understand? Don’t close them again.”
She nodded.
“No, say it.” His voice tensed, like he stood at the brink with her.
“I understand, sir.”
He captured her mouth beneath his, sweeping his tongue inside hers and taking her. Completely conquering her thoughts and any breath she’d been holding.
In one swift thrust, he was inside her, and she cried out against his mouth. Perfect. He fit perfectly inside her.
He growled. “Holy fuck, Sophie.” Nipping at her lip, he pulled back, nearly retreating all the way before plowing forward again. “Spread your legs more,” he ordered, and she pulled them toward her chest, spreading them wide.
Another grunt.
His hands moved to her hips, pinning her to the bed, and pulled halfway out again then thrust back into her. She couldn’t move. His body and his command immobilized her beneath him. She reeled from the knowledge, the feelings, his power, being at his mercy while he continued to withdraw and plunge.
The bed creaked beneath them. She didn’t care, and he didn’t stop.
He fucked her like she’d been made for the act. Like he couldn’t get enough of her body, and she accepted every grunt, every bite, every thrust of his cock as though it brought her next breath.
“Fuck your pussy is so hot, so tight,” he groaned and kissed her again, drawing her lip between his teeth before releasing hit.
She hooked her feet behind his back, and he dug his nails into her flesh. All she could do was grip the posts harder. She’d break them if she had to, but she would not let go. Not until he gave the okay, not until then.
His loud grunts and murmured words of how sexy she was, how fucking tight and hot she was, spurred her on.
“I can’t, Scott. I can’t.” She wiggled her ass, gaining the friction she needed. “Too much…oh fuck too…good.” She moaned.
“Not good enough, Sophie.” He let go of her hip and plucked her nipple.
“Oh fuck. I can’t!” she yelled, tears forming
“You can. Wait. Obey me, Sophie. Trust me.” He thrust again, grinding into her clit. The added pressure made it worse. Hot pain shot through her. She had to come. If she didn’t release soon, she’d lose her mind.
“I do!”
Scott plucked her nipple again.
“Oh fuck.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Fuck. Come, Sophie. Now!” He fucked her harder. Like he was going to fuck her through the bed and through the floor.
Any resolve to hold back vaporized with his command. Arching her back, she felt him fully imbedded, felt him crush her clit with his body. Violent tremors shook her. She screamed with each pulsating wave, pushing herself toward him, trying to drag out the utopian sensations for as long as her body would allow.
“Fuck. Fuck,” he chanted over her. He pumped hard then stilled, his words freezing on his lips while his release took him away.
His forehead pressed against hers. She loved the little ways he connected with her.
“Spend the night,” he whispered. “I’ll drive you to your place in the morning to change before work.” He gently brought her hands down from the headboard.
Her spine stiffened.
“Do you feed your overnight guests?” she asked softly, trying to filter the fear from her tone.
He laughed. “If you give me five minutes, I can definitely feed you.” He shifted his body, slipping his cock out from her, but she could feel it pressing against her.
“How can I say no to that?” She pulled him toward her and kissed him.
Chapter 21
“No luck on tracking down Carmichael and Singleton?” Sophie plunked a cup of coffee on Scott’s desk.
“No. No credit card usage, no phone calls on their cell phones. Nothing. They got to Mexico and disappeared.”
Sophie leaned against his desk and sipped her coffee. “Nothing on Susan, either, but she went to a lot of trouble to make it look like it was her death.”
“So, you really like her for this?” Scott asked, tilting back in his chair and avoiding staring at her breasts. She’d worn another button-down blouse, lavender, and had left the top two buttons undone. If he peeked, he’d get a glimpse at her cleavage, and all blood would redirect to his pants.
“On the security tape, we only see the two of them going into the apartment. No one leaves. It has to be her, right? But why?”
“I think this might help.” A file folder dropped on the desk. Detective Cartwright stood over them. “I took the names you asked me to run for background and financials and came up with some interesting information. Probably would have come across this sooner if the false vic’s sister had come to claim the body, or maybe not at all. But…” He flipped open the folder and stabbed a finger at the top page.
Sophie turned around, slanting over Scott to see better. Damn, she smelled like his soap. His scent on her body smelled right.
“Life insurance?”
“Yeah, on Susan James. Look at the beneficiary.”
Scott picked up the paper. “Shit. Sabrina gets the money.”
“So, Susan James kills her identical twin, takes her identity, and collects on her own insurance policy?” Sophie asked. “But I checked with the hospital this morning. No one has requested a death certificate. And you can’t claim on a policy without it.”
“Maybe she’s waiting this out. Once the case goes cold, she’ll request and collect. The policy is for a million. She’s got to be worth more than that, right?” Scott dug through the file. “This her financials?”
Detective Cartwright nodded. “Yeah. She’s been putting out money left and right but not bringing much in. Apparently, she likes the high life. That apartment she lived in? She can’t afford that. The rent is 75 percent of her salary. After she pays utilities and association dues, she’s got next to nothing to live on. Stealing those accounts was her way of beefing up her commissions, but it wasn’t enough. And if you checkout her credit history, she’s drowning in debt.”
Scott leaned back. “So, all this for money.” He shook his head.
“Okay, so now we have motive. We still don’t have her. I have a car stationed outside Sabrina’s house to see if she’ll go there. So far nobody has stopped by except for the mailman.”
“Look who underwrote the policy.” Sophie pointed at Clark Simmons’ name. “He said he didn’t speak to her, just sort of knew her from the building.” She turned to Cartwright. “Can you look further into this policy. See if there’s a clause allowing the policy to pay out without a certificate or something like that.”
“Sure thing. I’ll drive over there now and corner the guy.” Cartwright nodded. He’d been on family leave from the precinct while his wife fought an unwinnable battle with breast cancer. After she passed, he’d taken time away to grieve, get their affairs in order, sort out things.
It was good to see him back. Hopefully, he’d be ready to take the lead on his own cases again soon. But for right now, Scott appreciated the help. It gave him an excuse to keep Sophie with him and not split the tasks up between them.
“Let’s stop at Steven Renner’s place, see if he knows anything about the policy or the sister. Maybe he can help steer us in the direction of where she might be hiding.” Scott grabbed his coat off the chair and stood to slip it on.
Sophie downed the rest of her coffee. “Sure.”
She grabbed her purse from the drawer of her desk and met Scott near the doors.
“I didn’t realize the captain had put Cartwright on the case with us,” Sophie said as they made their way to Scott’s car.
“Yeah, he told me about it yesterday. I forgot to mention it last night. Someone distracted me with her sexy body.” He laughed and opened the car door for her.
“I’m pretty sure you were the distracting one, but I won’t argue the point.” Sophie stuffed her purse on the floorboard by her feet and buckled herself in.
Scott pulled out of the parking space and into traffic.
“Seeing as you benefited as much as I did, I don’t see why you’d argue at all,” Scott said with a grin.
The easy banter between them relaxed him. Every baby step they took together made him tense, waiting to see her reaction to it. She’d spent the night. In his bed. He’d woken up half afraid to feel the pillow beside him, fearing she’d run off in the middle of the night.
But she’d been there. Smiling at him when he opened his eyes. He expected her to be cute in the morning, but she blew him away. Adorable with her messy hair and smeared eye makeup, yes, but sexy as all fuck when she slipped from the bed and made her way toward the bathroom completely naked.
Her hips swayed so gently, so sweetly, he didn’t see anything else while she made the trek across the room. He’d noticed her reluctance the night before while she was splayed out nude before him in bed, and he’d wiped it away for her. She wasn’t the self-conscious type, but anyone would be a little hesitant when being examined the way he had been doing to her.
He hadn’t been judging her; he’d been devouring the sight of her. He’d been enjoying every imperfection, every curve, every little mark on her body. Because he was making it all his. Every little step, every time she gave him an inch, he was making her belong to him.
It had been euphoric.
Sophie checked her phone. “So, he’s off today. Swing by his apartment.” She rattled off the address and gave him the directions before stashing her phone back in her coat.
“You know him pretty well?”
“Who? Steve? Not really. He never worked with me directly. He’s a beat cop,” she answered and leaned back against the seat. “When this case is over, I’m taking the hottest, longest, most bubbly bubble bath known to man, and while my skin is getting all wrinkly and nasty, I’ll be downing a bottle of wine.”
“I kept you up too late last night,” he said, pulling the car into a parking garage.
“No, you woke me too early.” She laughed. She’d been awake when he opened his eyes, but the sun hadn’t even risen yet. He could have told her to go back to sleep. They could have easily gotten another hour or two of sleep.
Instead, he’d rolled her onto her belly, raised her ass in the air, and taken what was his.
“I don’t recall hearing a complaint. I do remember there being a lot of begging, though.” He glanced sideways to catch the blush creeping up her cheeks. She begged so fucking prettily, he couldn’t help but delay her orgasm until she was nearly clawing his eyes out to have it. Playing her was so much fun, he didn’t think he’d ever tire of it.
“Yeah, well…” She seemed to lose her retort when her gaze met his.
He shook his head with a laugh and found a spot to park the car. “Maybe tonight I’ll put you to bed early.”
She didn’t respond.
“Apartment five C,” she said and stepped out of the car.
Diving into the case. Her way of avoiding the topic of having another sleepover, but that was fine. Get the work done, then he’d have his play time.
Steve opened the door to his apartment wearing only a pair of jeans.
“Oh. Hi.” He stood straighter, closing the door to press it against his body. No visual of the apartment.
“Hi, Steve. We just had a few more questions about Susan, and we’re really hoping you can help us,” Sophie said, keeping her hands tucked into her overstuffed coat. She really hated the chill of winter.
“I already told you, we broke up a while back.” He plastered on a civil smile.
“Yeah, but we have a few questions about her maybe a boyfriend might know. Family, friends, that sort of thing,” Sophie pushed gently.
“We’re having a hard time finding her next of kin,” Scott added, taking Sophie’s lead and not telling him is ex-girlfriend wasn’t really dead.
“She never talked about her family,” Steve said quickly. He hugged the door tightly to his body.
“I’m getting hot in the hallway.” Sophie unzipped her coat. “Mind if we step inside?”
“I-uh.” He glanced over his shoulder. Sophie and Scott exchanged a glance. “Sure. Come in.” He opened the door and shoved his hand through his bed-head hair.
“Thanks so much,” Sophie said with a smile and a pat his bare chest.
“So, how can I help?” Steve clapped his hands together loudly and placed himself between them and the living room. The apartment was pretty open space, but he clearly didn’t want them walking any farther inside than they already had.
“Well, for starters, she had a twin. Did you know that?” Sophie asked, removing her coat and draping it over her arm.
“I, uh, yeah, I think she mentioned it once. They didn’t really talk, though.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“Oh, cause you didn’t mention that before. When we asked about her sister, you only mentioned the adopted sister, nothing about a twin. That might have been helpful.” Sophie pointed out.
“Hmm, any idea where her sister might live? We’re having trouble tracking her down. I was hoping you might be able to help,” Scott said, stepping closer to him.
“Uh, no, like I said, they never really talked.”
“Shame, really. So far, her adopted sister has refused to come down and claim her body, give her a proper burial, and now we can’t locate her biological sister,” Sophie said. She went on asking him about his thoughts on a memorial service, other family while Scott maneuvered away from them to get a better look at the apartment.
Relatively clean. The couch was a bit messed up. Cushions shifted, crunched like they’d just been rolled around on. TV wasn’t on. No drinks or food on the coffee table.
Scott narrowed his eyes, just to be sure he saw what he thought he saw.
“No. Like I said, we weren’t that into each other. She was kinda private,” Steven answered. He untangled his arms to scratch his elbow, and his gaze flew to Scott between questions.
“I was really hoping you’d have something for us. Oh.” Sophie pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’m sorry, it’s the lab.” She took the call and walked off into his kitchen with the phone. Steve went to stop her, but Scott stepped in front of him.
“Hey, man. Did we catch you at a bad time?” he asked in a low voice, putting on his man-to-man tone.
“What? No, why?”
“Uh,” Scott jerked his head toward the living room and pointed to the used condom on the floor beneath the coffee table.
Color seeped from Steve’s face, and his throat constricted with his sudden hard swallows.
“We can come back later if you’re in the middle of something,” Scott suggested. “Sophie and I’ll go to lunch and let you finish up here...”
“No, it’s fine. I’m not—” Steve turned to the doorway of the kitchen where Sophie stood on her phone.
She finished the call and stared at them silently. What had she just found out?
“I have a quick question for you.” She aimed her phone at Steve and closed the gap between them while dropping her coat onto a chair.
Scott moved closer to the couch, blocking Steve from retreating. The tip of Sophie’s tongue touched her upper lip, and her eyes narrowed a fraction. He knew that expression; she’d learned something important.
“So, Susan’s apartment was dusted for fingerprints. Makes sense that yours weren’t among those we found that day since you’d been broken up for a while. Bu
t…” She finished closing the gap. “Your prints were found on the exterior of the front door. And a few other places, and at first it wasn’t looked into, because we already knew you had been dating her. But…”
She waggled her phone in the air between them.
“I had forensics go through the evidence again, make sure your prints weren’t on anything they were holding. Just to be sure. Routine.” She nodded.
Steve’s nostrils flared. The muscles in his neck tensed, but he remained silent.
“They didn’t find your prints, but they did find an evidence bag with your name on it.” She spoke to Scott. “It was a crazy day. Crime scenes can be a little chaotic, witnesses to question, taking in the whole scene, right? But I don’t remember seeing him, do you, Scott?”
“Naw, I don’t recall. But her apartment is outside his district. He wouldn’t be there.” Scott stared down Steve. “Would you?”
“I—”
“See, another thing that’s been tripping me up is we didn’t see anyone leave the apartment after the murder. We saw her enter the apartment. We saw her sister enter the apartment. But we never saw anyone else leave that day.” Sophie backed up a step. “Here’s what I think. And it’s a bit farfetched, so stop me if I’m way off. I think you came home with Susan the night before. You were already in the apartment when Sabrina showed up. Then, after Susan kills her twin sister, making it seem like a suicide with some help from a police officer who’s worked a few crime scenes, she gets out using the patio door You stay behind, lock the door so it looks like no one left that way and hide in the apartment.”
“Huh. I’m with you so far,” Scott said. “That would explain him not showing up on the video feed, leaving.
“You guys are really crazy. Why would she kill her sister? She didn’t even talk to her sister,” Steve rambled.
Scott nodded to Sophie, let her finish what she started. Go in for the kill.
“No, I think it works. You stayed behind, hid, waited for the crime scene to start being worked, and blended in with the crew. You had your uniform on, you knew procedure, and you bagged and tagged evidence!” She laughed. “That probably wasn’t so smart. But I’m guessing someone noticed you, told you to do it, and you couldn’t not do it. That would raise suspicion. And then you just walked out while the scene was being worked.”