Devil Hath Come (an FBI/Romance Thriller ~book 7)

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Devil Hath Come (an FBI/Romance Thriller ~book 7) Page 13

by Kelley, Morgan


  It was all it took. Ethan pushed into the warm wetness and claimed his ultimate prize. The little shocks of electricity skirted up his spine as he buried himself in her warmth.

  Callen was lost in his own pleasure, as he enjoyed the way she greedily devoured him. Using her hair, he slid himself further into her mouth. When she slid her teeth across his erection, he shook violently. “Angel, God!”

  Ethan found his rhythm and began pounding into her body. It caused Elizabeth to take his brother deeper and deeper. It was so hot to watch, and all he wanted to do was to keep going until he could climb inside the warmth and wetness of her body. “Baby, so good!” he muttered in ecstasy, as he changed up the rhythm once more to fill her with long, full strokes.

  The heat was bubbling to the top, ready to spill over. Elizabeth was so damn close that she had to remove her mouth from Callen, or she was afraid that she would bite him. Looking back over her shoulder, Elizabeth’s eyes met Ethan’s. “Please come with me,” she begged, only to feel herself rupture apart.

  Her words tore at the last shred of his fraying control. With one last thrust, he exploded. As he poured hotly into his wife, he shouted her name in release.

  Callen gave them both a second to resurface from the pleasure. As his brother fell back onto the couch and away from Elizabeth’s body, he rushed towards her and spun her body until she was facing Ethan. She tumbled into him and immediately their lips met. Callen couldn’t wait any longer and he slid deep into the warmth of her body to experience his own bliss. “Angel, this is heaven,” he whispered as he focused on the hot silky slide. The muscles deep within her body were still quivering, and it was pulling him closer and closer to the edge.

  Ethan forcefully held her mouth to his, as he plundered the depths. This was one of his favorite parts of their coming together. He could swallow her shouts and reaction as Callen finished taking her. Ethan roughly held her by the hair so her mouth couldn’t escape his. With each thrust into her body, she moaned into his mouth and relished it.

  “Almost there,” Callen muttered as he continued to watch the two people he loved locked in a passionate embrace. “Help her, Ethan,” he hissed, knowing that he was close. He desperately wanted to feel Elizabeth shake around his body.

  Ethan barely heard the words, as his body was being assaulted by Elizabeth’s hands and nails. Finally, it registered, and he ran his fingers over the most sensitive part of her anatomy. She shook beneath his fingers, willingly.

  Callen couldn’t hold out any longer. Slamming into her, he prayed that she would fall with him. With one last slide, the bliss swallowed him whole.

  Elizabeth was being stroked, pummeled, and kissed beyond anything she could handle. Her entire body was one giant nerve, and when Ethan ran his fingers over her, she shattered apart once more. It rocked her body, and she careened into the bright lights and delicious sensation.

  Callen fell forward and sandwiched Elizabeth between them. At first, no one moved or spoke.

  “Am I crushing you both?” Callen finally whispered as he rested his face on Elizabeth’s shoulder.

  “No, it really feels nice,” Elizabeth whispered, as she enjoyed being the cream in the Native cookie sandwich. “I don’t ever want to move,” she muttered, enjoying the scent of Ethan’s cologne mingling with Callen’s. Her face was tucked into his throat.

  In fact, she could sleep just like this.

  “No, I’m fine,” Ethan answered as he left kisses across Elizabeth’s forehead.

  Callen suddenly found something funny.

  “Why are you laughing?” Elizabeth questioned, wondering why their afterglow was amusing.

  “I was just thinking about how many times we end our night exactly like this or just reversed. Normal couples don’t ever have that conversation.”

  Ethan lifted his arm and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We are normal, Cal. This is just right for us. People that don’t get it, really don’t understand that love is all that means anything in life. It shouldn’t matter who you love, how you love, but only that you put yourself out there to be open to it.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said.

  “I’ll willingly be the base to this couple stack for the rest of our lives. I don’t mind.”

  Elizabeth was at peace and began to giggle. “He does have a point. If anyone walked in, we do look funny as hell.”

  Blackhawk looked over at the door. “Callen’s on top. They get to check out his posterior view first. We’re literally covered.”

  Now, Callen was laughing again.

  “Maybe this isn’t the right moment to ask this but, seriously, can I eat dinner now?” she asked. “I know I’m not pregnant, but I still need to consume some sort of caloric intake or my brain is useless.”

  Callen climbed off of them and grabbed the black polo shirt and two pairs of boxers from the floor. “Here, angel,” he offered, “Wear this.” Callen handed her Ethan’s shirt. He tossed his brother his boxers and slipped into his own. “I’d give you mine, but you’re about to eat barbeque sauce. It’s white and well, I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Blackhawk laughed as he slipped into his boxers. “Nice one, Cal. Thanks for that.” Then he glanced over at his wife. “I’ll just buy a new one, baby, so have at it. I like having you in my clothes after sex.”

  Elizabeth slipped into his shirt as she walked over to the table to sit down. When both men joined her there was a sense of peace. “So how about we have dinner, call the kids, and then head to bed?” she asked, picking up a rib.

  “Works for me,” stated Callen.

  “Not me,” answered Ethan. “It seems seeing you with your hair all messed up and wearing my shirt has given me some other plans for the evening,” he answered honestly.

  Callen was up for that and gave his brother a fist bump.

  “Again, Mr. Blackhawk and Mr. Whitefox?” she purred.

  They both answered without hesitation. “Oh yeah, again.”

  Chris had the most amazing night of his life.

  Date two had been nothing less than spectacular. Cyra made him laugh and forget the time. It was almost one in the morning, and they were tipsy from the wine that they had shared during dinner. What he wanted was the night to never come to an end.

  In actuality, he knew the truth. They were both borderline drunk and there weren’t enough hours until morning for what he wanted to do in her hotel room.

  It would have to wait.

  Walking her to the door, he stopped in front of it. “I had an amazing night with you.”

  She did too. “I think you’re a pretty spectacular man, Christopher. I can’t wait to do this again some time.”

  That was his fondest wish. That wasn’t true, he had something he wanted even more in mind.

  She leaned into his body and whispered into Chris’s ear. “Maybe tomorrow night?” she asked, using his frame to balance. Yeah, they both had too much to drink.

  Oh, most definitely. “Yeah, I’m free.” Okay, he hoped that he didn't just lie. While working, one could never tell what would be popping up. “May I kiss you goodnight, Cyra?” he asked, staring into her eyes.

  “Yes, I’d like that a great deal,” she replied as she ran her fingers up his cheek to remove his glasses. “I’m ready to be kissed,” she purred in his ear.

  Holy crap, his entire body was begging for more. Leaning in, he took her mouth with his and controlled the kiss. They both fell back against her door, Cyra clung to his ever tightening body.

  Talk about torment.

  This moment was the pinnacle of his life. He couldn’t remember another thing that could rival it. As tongues met, touched, and slid across one another, his hands had buried themselves in her silky blonde hair. It was so soft and glossy that Chris swore he was going to get lost in it.

  Cyra was convinced that kissing Chris was the most amazing thing in the entire world. She wanted to drag him into her room and spend the night exploring his body. Already, she cou
ld tell he was going to be sexy naked. Her hands were freely tracing his solid frame beneath his dress shirt. When he moaned, she pulled away stare into his eyes.

  “I don’t have words for that,” Chris answered as he licked his lower lip. It tasted like wine and Cyra. This was proof that she was his new favorite thing in life. He didn't believe he could ever get enough.

  “Can we have dinner and no wine tomorrow?” she asked hopefully. “I think I’d rather have dessert instead.”

  Chris swallowed at the implication. Yeah, screw the booze. He wanted something so much more sweet and delicious. It was definitely time. Date three was a good number to consummate what was growing between them. “Yes, Cyra,” he replied. “Want to have coffee tomorrow morning?” he tossed in, hoping he’d get to see her before they had to go to work.

  She smiled seductively at him. “Okay, Christopher. It’s a date,” she replied as she slipped the key into her door and stepped inside.

  He crossed the hallway and did the same. “If you need me, I’m right here, Cyra.”

  “And if I just want you?”

  Chris swallowed as he watched her wink and close the door. His whole body was tight with need.

  “Yeah, I’m right here for that too,” he replied.

  If Cyra called, he would definitely come running.

  ~ Chapter Five ~

  Tuesday Morning

  Six days until Halloween

  Morning came fast, but then it always did.

  When the sun began peeking through the curtains in their window, all three were forced from slumber and knew that there was work to be done. Death waited on no one, and it was only a matter of time before the killer was going to strike again.

  Sitting at the table in their suite, Elizabeth was once again in Ethan’s shirt. She was comfortably sitting between the men with her bare legs crossed, and a hand on each of her thighs. Both men were in boxers and sipping coffee as they sat beside her. Their attention was focused on the reports that they had pulled up on their tablets.

  There were things that they would rather be doing at the time, but unfortunately, life screeched to a halt when death came calling.

  “I can’t find a single thing,” Callen stated, breaking the silence of the room.

  Elizabeth glanced up. “On what, Cal?”

  He was getting frustrated over the dead ends. “Scarlet Red doesn’t exist. She doesn’t have a driver’s license either. I can’t locate an arrest record or fingerprints.”

  Ethan stood to get more coffee and sympathized with his brother. Sometimes, the legwork was more difficult than figuring out the assignment. “How about the IRS database? Did you run a search through there?”

  Callen shook his head. “If she worked, it was under the table. No one by that name has ever filed income taxes.”

  “How about her Social Security number?” Elizabeth tossed out there.

  “There are none tied to that name.”

  Ethan dropped back down into his seat. “Then I think we can safely assume that it’s not her real name.”

  Elizabeth knew they were going to have to canvas the town to find out more. Her plan was to start with Officer Murphy. Once they got the name of the shop, that would be the second stop on their agenda. “A victim with no family and no name makes me curious.”

  Ethan began mulling over the oncoming profile in his head. At some point, his wife would be asking for it and at this rate, it would be sooner rather than later.

  “I did get some information on the High Priest Arlen James,” Callen said. “Financials are in for the Church of Satan.”

  Yeah, she’d definitely missed something. “When did we find a band of practicing Satanists?” she inquired as she reached for her coffee, only to have it stolen from right in front of her. “Callen!”

  He laughed as he took a sip. “You were showering last night when we dug it up. Since we had the inverted pentagram, I ran with it.”

  Blackhawk was proud of his brother. He was coming into his own as an investigator. No longer was there the green hue of inexperience, but now he had the patina of a disciplined Fed. Lately, they didn't have to direct him where to take a lead, he simply jumped in and used his mind.

  “Awesome, Cal,” Elizabeth stated, congratulating him. “You did a great job.”

  “I’m not quite at the Ethan Blackhawk level of skill, but I’m getting there,” he admitted. His fondest dream was to be just like his brother. The man was simply his idol.

  “It’s better than my skill, Callen. It’s yours. You don’t need to be anything like me, because I have my weaknesses too. Be yourself,” Ethan reassured.

  As much as she enjoyed the lovey dovey good feelings that were bouncing around the room, she was excited. “I can’t wait to interview the Satanists.”

  Both men stared over at her with twin looks of displeasure.

  “What?” she asked laughing. “I know you never thought you’d hear that sentence at the table, but it’s going to be fun. You know how religion and I get along. We’re like two peas in the pod.”

  That didn't calm either man. Here they had a killer who was sacrificing women, playing a game, and calling out Elizabeth. Now, she wanted to mosey on into the Church of Satan and slap some believers around. Yeah, that just sounded like a horrible idea all around.

  “No,” they said in unison.

  Elizabeth found it amusing that they honestly believed that one word would make her stay inside the hotel all day. When would they learn?

  “You should stay as far away from the Satanists as possible. You just piss religious people off with your attitude, and then that makes you more of a target,” stated Callen.

  Ethan had to agree. “Except it’s not a religion. It’s a crock of shit. Gee, what can I worship now? Oh look, there are some trees and a few rocks. I want to pray to them and get my wishes to come true.”

  Elizabeth stared openmouthed at him. It wasn’t like Ethan to be so cynical. “Are you okay?” She took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

  He sighed. “Yeah, I’m just on edge with this whole thing. I know that my feelings on this don’t matter, and that you’re going to do the interview anyway.”

  Elizabeth hated that he was feeling this stirred up inside. She moved toward his side to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Rarely was her big strong Native rattled like this. It unnerved her too, when the backbone of their unit was falling apart. “Your feelings do matter, Ethan, as do Callen’s. I just don’t have a choice in all of this. I’ll be fine, because my partners will have my back. Plus, I have dad’s mojo pouch and a nine millimeter. I think I’m golden.”

  Callen understood why his brother was worked up.

  It was time to lighten their moods. “I can carry holy water, silver bullets and a cross if you think that will help,” she added laughing.

  “That’s vampires and werewolves Elizabeth,” Ethan stated, finally grinning. His wife was trying to entertain him and as usual, it was working.

  “Cowboy, it’s the same damn thing. All of it is a load of crap. The Church of Satan is nothing more than make believe.”

  Ethan wished that were true. He had yet to be assigned a case where vampires had attacked, but right now, they definitely had Satanists. It was his experience that people could believe just about anything.

  When it came to crazy, there were a whole different set of rules.

  Cyra was up early, despite the late bedtime. It was all because of the man who was coming to see her. She was feeling like a teenager again and as giddy as a schoolgirl.

  There was that little flutter of butterflies in her stomach, warning her of the path that she was heading down. There was no doubt in her mind that she could get used to being around Chris every day for the rest of her life. He had an easy way about him that made her want to be near him.

  At first, it was all about his sexiness, but now she saw that it was so much more. He was funny, smart, and very compassionate. The man was a gentle soul, and she was lucky to
find him.

  She was a little out of her element with him. Yes, she had dated plenty of cops in her life, but never once did Cyra believe that she would date a man that played in dead bodies every day.

  Then again, so many people didn't know how she had done her job as a homicide detective either. It was pretty much the same thing. Cyra had to find the truth in death, and Chris worked the same way but only from the inside out.

  At the knock at the door, her heart skipped a beat. He was here! Racing to the peephole, she stared out to make sure it was indeed him.

  Oh God, he looked adorable. Gone were the glasses this morning and his eyes were so very enticingly blue.

  Opening the door for him, he stood there holding two coffees and a bag containing breakfast.

  “I didn't know if you were hungry,” Chris said, as he waited for her to invite him inside. “I hope you like blueberry muffins. There’s a bakery across the street, and they smelled really good.”

  It was official. Here stood the sweetest man ever. “I love them. Come in,” she offered, moving out of his way. Her stomach fluttered even more. Cyra couldn’t remember the last man who brought her breakfast.

  “How did you sleep?” he asked, placing the coffee and bag on the table.

  Cyra contemplated that answer. What she wanted to tell him was lousy because she wished he was with her, but she went with the standard. “Really well and you?”

  He laughed at the torment that he had to endure the last six hours. “Let’s just say it was a rough night and leave it at that.”

  Sitting beside him, she handed him a muffin from the bag and grinned. “You lost the glasses for today?”

  Chris nodded as he sipped his coffee. His focus was entirely on the woman beside him. She was wearing sunny yellow and it only made her eyes bluer. “Sometimes, if I’m doing paperwork all day, it’s easier to not have them on, so I switch it up.”

  Cyra leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I think you’re handsome either way.”

 

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