Made for You

by Cheyenne McCray

  It didn’t take his detective skills to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was like something possessed him, not giving a damn about the fact that she was his partner. He set his beer bottle on the coffee table, scooted closer to her and took her bottle from her hand. Her eyes widened as he set her beer next to his.

  Their gazes held, as if they couldn’t get enough of looking at each other. He reached out to her and slowly brought his hands to her face and cupped it gently.

  He waited for her to pull away, to tell him no. Instead she placed her hands on his chest, her touch warming his skin through his shirt.

  Inch by inch he lowered his face to hers.

  Kelley’s heart beat faster as Reese’s lips neared hers. She found herself holding her breath, wondering if she should let him kiss her, if she dared.

  Through his shirt, his chest was warm against her palms and she clenched the soft material in her fingers. A heartbeat passed and then his mouth claimed hers.

  Neither of them held anything back. The kiss was fierce, hungry, intense. His lips were firm and he tasted of beer and his own masculine flavor. She’d always liked his scent whenever she caught a whiff of it, but now it filled her lungs and she breathed deeply, drinking her fill.

  She slid her hands up his chest and linked her fingers behind his neck. His skin felt hot. She felt on fire.

  Soft moans rose up within her and her belly quivered when he growled in response. He moved his hands from her face, sliding his fingers down her neck, skimming her shoulders, clearly being careful of her injury.

  Right now she felt no pain. She only felt heat and desire and a need so great she couldn’t have stopped herself if she wanted to.

  She didn’t want to. No, she needed this more than anything. She needed Reese.

  He pulled her onto his lap, caging her with one arm as they kissed. She felt his erection beneath her bottom and she wiggled, rubbing herself against it. He groaned against her lips and she grew damp between her thighs.

  She moved in his embrace and straddled him and wished their clothes were gone so that nothing would be between them. She imagined what it would be like to ride him now, to feel him inside her as he fucked her.

  Fuck. The word was unbelievably erotic, bringing with it visions of him taking her in ways she could only imagine. She wanted to make it real. She didn’t want to have to imagine any longer.

  She clenched her fingers tighter in his T-shirt and she made soft, hungry sounds as they kissed. Her desire for him magnified when he gently bit her lower lip.

  The kiss grew hungrier, almost frantic. She slid one palm down to his waistband and below, and shifted so that she could feel his hard cock beneath her hand. She moved both hands to his belt buckle and fumbled with it, trying to unfasten it. It came undone and she went for the button of his jeans.

  He groaned as she reached into his jeans and her fingers found his cock. She felt the satin and steel of his erection and squeezed it. He moved his lips to the curve of her neck. He caught both of her wrists in one of his hands before he raised his head and looked down at her.

  Her chest rose and fell with every harsh breath she took as she met his gaze. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted him with everything she had.

  He lowered his head and placed his forehead against hers and she closed her eyes. She could tell his breathing was as heavy as hers.

  “We need to stop.” He said the words gruffly, as if angry with someone.

  She drew back and met his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “This.” He looked away before meeting her gaze again. “You’re my partner and you’re injured. This should never have happened. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

  It felt as if cold water had been dashed over her. She jerked her wrists away from his hold and scooted back from him so that there was a good two feet between them now.

  “You’re right,” she said, but felt a part of her grow cold as she said the words. “Maybe you should go.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment before he gave a nod and got to his feet. “I’ll see you later.”

  She stood, too. “Call me about the Taynor case tomorrow.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “All right,” he said, and she wondered if he meant it, if he really would call her about the case.

  She walked him to the front door and opened it. He stepped onto the porch and gave her one last look. He started to turn and she shut the door, not wanting to watch him walk away.

  Chapter 8

  Kelley sat at her desk in her home office, trying to keep her mind off of last night and the kiss she’d shared with Reese. She was finding it virtually impossible.

  It had been a mistake, one she regretted. They’d let the moment get away from them and she hoped it wouldn’t hurt their working relationship. Damn. How could she have let that happen?

  She pushed her fingers through her hair as she stared at her notes on her iPad. Was Johnny Rocha, aka Johnny Rocket, the Taynor’s foster brother? Had he been the one who’d shot her?

  The ache in her shoulder was more pronounced after having gone to the shooting range yesterday. She’d never admit that to Reese or anyone else, but right now it wasn’t a problem. She wasn’t doing anything more strenuous than searching via her contacts for the mystery shooter, Taynor, and Belle.

  Kelley kept one informant in particular, Zip Moore, in her phone contacts because he somehow always knew what was going on when it came to anything illegal. He wouldn’t talk with anyone on the force but her. She pressed his number on her phone.

  He answered on the second ring. “Who is this?”

  “I need to ask you a few questions about someone named Johnny Rocha,” she said. No doubt he knew exactly who’d called when he’d heard her voice.

  “Johnny Rocket?” Zip’s voice grew hard as he said the name. “I’d be crazy to talk to you about him.”

  “It’s important.” She gripped her phone tighter. “Tell me what you know. I’ll make it worth your while, like always.”

  A pause. “Not over the phone,” Zip said after a moment. “I’ll meet you at the usual place.”

  It would take ten minutes to get to the abandoned farm. She glanced at her watch. “Twenty minutes.”

  “Now? I don’t think I can—”

  She cut him off in a warning tone. “Zip, you know you’re safe with me.”

  He blew out his breath. “All right, all right. Make sure you’re not followed.”

  She disconnected the call, and with a smile of satisfaction went from her office to her bedroom and tugged on a pair of shoes. It felt good to be moving forward on this case.

  Technically she wasn’t cleared to drive yet, but she was tired of being cooped up and dependent on others. It wouldn’t hurt to meet Zip on her own—he was as dangerous to her as a newborn kitten.

  She shoved her wallet with her credentials in the back pocket of her jeans and her keys in her front pocket. She buckled on her belt and holstered her Glock, then put a light blazer on over her blouse to cover her weapon.

  It took her all of eight minutes to get ready to go and then she was out the door and in her dark green Ford Explorer. As she drove to the meeting place, her heart beat a little faster from the thrill of the hunt. Every step she took would take her closer to Taynor and Belle.

  Zip wasn’t at the meeting place at the abandoned farm when she arrived. She drove around to the back side of a dilapidated weathered barn and parked. The farm was far enough off the main road that they most likely wouldn’t be seen, but she never took chances if she could help it.

  She parked her SUV in the shade and climbed out, then leaned against the vehicle and looked up at an old rusted windmill that creaked in the warm breeze. Her hair lifted from her shoulders and a dust devil skittered across barren land a hundred feet away from her. Two vultures circled overhead and she wondered if some poor creature had died and had the vultures’ attention.

  Zip arrived five minutes after she did,
and he pulled up in his sapphire blue 1969 Camaro. It had a wide white stripe down the middle of the hood and she knew the car was his baby.

  When he got out of the car, he pulled a cigarette out of a pack in his shirt pocket and a lighter from his jeans’ front pocket. He paused to cup his hand against the breeze so that he could light the cigarette.

  After it was lit, he slipped the lighter back into his pocket and walked toward her. His dirty blond hair reached his collar and he had a scar like a slash through one eyebrow. His skin was tanned and lined and he looked older than his thirty-five years.

  “Hello, Detective.” He drawled the words as he leaned against the hood of his Camaro. “Sure you want to get into Johnny Rocket’s business?”

  “What kind of question is that?” She scowled and pushed away from the Explorer, and walked up to him. He was thin and lanky, a good eight inches above her five-two. “I’ll get in anyone’s business who gets in my way. And if Johnny has anything to do with a little girl’s disappearance you can be damned sure I’ll serve up his balls to him on a platter.”

  Zip took a hit on his cigarette and blew out the smoke. “I’ll say one thing. You’ve got your own set of brass balls, Detective.” He shook his head. “Johnny is real bad news.”

  “Why haven’t I heard of him before?” Kelley asked. “Prescott Valley isn’t exactly a metropolis with new drug kingpins sprouting out of the desert.”

  “The man’s a ghost.” Zip blew out another puff of smoke. “And he’s new around here—came up from Phoenix. You know the Hector Garcia murder, the one you cops haven’t figured out yet?”

  Kelley frowned. “You’re telling me this Rocha guy is involved?”

  Zip smirked. “Johnny’s the one who offed him.”

  A chill rolled up her spine. Hector Garcia had been one of the most notorious drug smugglers around, and smart, too. For someone to have the opportunity to kill him, they had to have been just as smart. Reese and Kelley had been trying to make a case against Garcia when he’d turned up dead, just weeks ago. Someone had done the Prescott Police Department a big favor.

  She and Reese had been investigating the murder but they’d both been injured on another case, which had slowed things way down. The workload of the other detectives on the force was heavy right now so the Garcia murder had been put on the sidelines. Kelley being shot, Belle’s kidnapping, and Laura’s murder, had taken precedence.

  The breeze blew strands of hair across Kelley’s eyes and she impatiently brushed them out of her face. “Tell me what you know about Rocha.”

  Zip shrugged. “He has a major shipment coming in soon that will make him a big player in the area. He’s already got an established business in Phoenix. He’s seeking to expand.”

  “I’m going to want details on that shipment.” Her heart rate had picked up. “But first I want to know if Rocha has the girl, Belle Jones.”

  A scowl creased Zip’s face. “I don’t like no one messing with kids.”

  Something caught in Kelley’s throat. “So he is involved.”

  Zip’s scowl deepened. “The sonofabitch is into trafficking kids.”

  Her skin went cold and for a moment she felt lightheaded and wondered if it was the concussion. “Are you saying he sold Belle?”

  “Don’t know.” Zip shook his head. “But he could have or he’s gonna do it.”

  “Do you know where Rocha and Taynor are?” The words rushed out. Dear God, she had to find Belle.

  Zip raked his fingers through his hair. “Last I heard, Rocha was at Fat T’s place. Johnny’s looking to set up shop somewhere and I think he’s liking Fat T’s.”

  “You’re certain?” Kelley’s jaw was tight. She knew exactly the location Zip was referring to.

  The informant gave a nod. “I don’t hold no love for any bastard who sells kids.”

  “Give me what you know about the drug shipment,” she said even as she was pulling out her phone and pressing the speed dial number for Reese.

  “I don’t have that information yet, but I’ll get it.” Zip held out his hand. “In the meantime.”

  Kelley pulled out her wallet and gave the informant cash while at the same time holding her phone between her ear and shoulder.

  Reese answered as she turned away from Zip and hurried back to her Explorer.

  “Hi, Kelley,” Reese said, and she swallowed. He usually said, “What’s up, Petrova?” Apparently last night had changed things.

  She climbed into her Explorer, the phone now in her hand. “I just met with Zip—”

  “What?” Reese cut across what she was saying. “What the hell were you doing out meeting an informant? You should have called me and let me take care of it.”

  “Listen to me.” Kelley nearly shouted as she started the vehicle. “This is important. It’s about Belle.”

  “I’m listening,” Reese said.

  As she drove the SUV away from the old ranch, Kelley told Reese the entire conversation she’d just had with Zip.

  Reese cursed. “I’ll mobilize the team.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” she said and disconnected the call before he could tell her to stay home.

  With her jaw set, she headed down the dirt road, back to the main road toward town, straight for Fat T’s.

  She beat Reese and his team by one minute. She parked her Explorer as law enforcement vehicles pulled up. After she cut the engine, she jumped out and opened up the back of her SUV where she took off her blazer and pulled on a bulletproof vest and then a windbreaker with POLICE across the back.

  Reese strode up toward her, his expression fierce. “No. You’re still on leave.”

  “I’m getting in on the raid.” She scowled at him. “We don’t have time to argue. Let’s go.”

  For one moment they glared at each other and then Reese started giving out orders to the officers to cover the back and the front of Fat T’s place.

  Kelley went with Reese to the front door with officers backing them up. Two men swung the battering ram at the door. A huge crash sounded in the air as the door splintered open.

  “Police!” Reese shouted, as did Kelley and the other officers as they swept into the home. Their shouts echoed in the house, organized chaos. Three men, including Fat T, were playing poker in the living room. Cards and poker chips went flying when the table overturned as the men rushed to their feet.

  One of the men pulled a gun. Reese shot him and the man went down. Fat T and the other man put their hands behind their heads and dropped to their knees like they were told and then they were handcuffed and jerked to their feet.

  Reese, Kelley, and the officers continued through the house, shouting “Police!”

  Someone jarred Kelley’s shoulder and the pain made her bite her cheek. She tasted blood but ignored it as they continued clearing the house.

  They didn’t find anyone else in the house and Kelley’s heart sank. They did find crack cocaine stashed throughout the place, but that was no consolation as far as she was concerned.

  Heat flushed through her body as she marched out the front door and straight up to Fat T who was being held by two officers as they walked toward a cruiser.

  “Hold on,” Kelley told the officers. To Fat T she shouted, “Where’s the girl? Where’s Belle?”

  He smirked. “Ain’t no girl ’round here.”

  “So help me,” she said with narrowed eyes. “You will tell me or I’ll kick your balls up into your throat and you can choke on them.”

  His throat worked as if he was trying to swallow something. “You wouldn’t.”

  She poked his chest, her finger pushing into his fat. “Try me, you sonofabitch.”

  “They left.” Sweat was on Fat T’s brow and his wife-beater T-shirt had damp sweat rings under his armpits. “I don’t know nothin’ else.”

  Reese came up beside Kelley. “We’ll take him down to the station and we’ll get it out of him.”

  Kelley’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “They were just h
ere. We need to track them down, now. If I have to make this bastard sing falsetto, then I will.”

  Reese looked at Fat T who was shaking his head. “Darrell and Johnny, they left with that little girl. I told you.”

  “When?” Kelley growled.

  “Maybe half an hour ago.” Fat T’s dark little eyes darted from Kelley to Reese and back. “They didn’t say where they were going. Johnny, he doesn’t tell me anything.”

  “Right.” She gave a nod to the officers who held Fat T. They pushed him into the back seat of the cruiser as one of the officers read Fat T his rights. He was so fat it was a wonder he fit into the vehicle and the car didn’t drop like a low-rider from his weight.

  Kelley raked her fingers through her hair. Her whole body ached with frustration. “We just missed them again.” She looked up at Reese, who wore a grim expression. “What if he sells that little girl?” Terror at the thought of Belle being sold into child slavery made her whole body hurt.

  “We’re not going to let that happen.” Reese rested one of his hands on her good shoulder. “We’ll see what we can obtain from the other guy.” He nodded toward another cruiser where the other man was sitting in the back. “Ron Simpson. He’s just one of Fat T’s flunkies, so I’m not sure what we’ll get out of him.”

  A stabbing pain shot through Kelley’s head and she wavered as her head spun a little. She hesitated, waiting out the dizzy spell.

  “You all right?” Reese wore a concerned expression.

  “I’m fine.” She straightened.

  John walked up to them, carrying what looked like a computer’s hard drive. “Grabbed this.” He raised it so that they could see it. “Might get lucky and find something on it.”

  “Good.” Reese gave a nod and John turned away.

  Kelley put her hands on her hips. “I’m going with you to the station.”