Killer Moves

by Mary Eason

  As we left the parking lot together I tried to push those ugly thoughts aside.

  “You know what I’d really love? One of those greasy cheeseburgers of yours.” I smiled and waited as a ghost of a smile spread slowly across his handsome face.

  “I think I can arrange that for you, pretty lady. And who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and run into our little friend from the last time. It would probably give him a real thrill seeing the car twice in a matter of weeks.”

  We did get lucky. The kid remembered our order right down to the flavor of shakes. He appeared just as impressed with the car as before.

  “Why don’t you come take a look?” Aaron invited, only to be rewarded with an unbelievable expression.

  “You mean it, mister? Really?” When Aaron told him yes, the kid whipped off his earphones and was out the door with our order in hand.

  “It’s kind of slow right now so Steve won’t mind watching the place for a second. What kind of horsepower does this thing get?”

  I listened as Aaron and the kid, whose name I later learned was Scott, discussed the ’Vette’s merits and I tried to force all thoughts of how many wrong decisions I’d made in my life lately out of my mind.

  “You know you’ve made a friend for life don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking of taking him for a ride next time.”

  “He seems like a nice kid.”

  “Yes, ma’am. So, how am I doing?”

  “What do you mean?” I tried to decipher something from his expression.

  “I haven’t said one thing about the future yet so I’m thinking I’m doing pretty good. What do you think?”

  “You’re doing wonderful, Mr. Severn. Absolutely wonderful.”

  “Good. Because I figure this is some sort of test that I definitely want to pass so in case I screw up, say or do something you don’t approve of, I just want you to know I am trying.”

  “Aaron, just shut up and drive, okay?”

  She keeps a secret buried in the past. He wants the truth—now. But an unknown killer could destroy their future.

  Hold On to Me

  © 2007 Linda Winfree

  Hearts of the South, Book 3

  For FBI profiler Caitlin Falconetti, immersing herself in her job is the only way to quell the memories of a vicious, near-fatal attack and all it cost her, including the only man she ever loved. Better to let him think she simply rejected him, rather than reveal a painful secret that she’s certain would have destroyed his feelings for her.

  Investigator Lamar “Tick” Calvert is determined to clean out the corruption-riddled sheriff’s department in his hometown. While he understands Caitlin’s drive to excel at her job, it doesn’t mean he’s happy about the prospect of working with his former lover, the one woman he tried and failed to hold on to.

  A rash of unsolved murders brings them together to find the murderer before another woman dies. Daily contact reignites the lingering attraction between them, but Caitlin won’t risk opening herself and revealing her secret. She plans to complete the killer’s profile, make an arrest and get out of town for good.

  Tick plans to solve this case, too, but now that Caitlin’s back in his life, he also plans to finally dig up the truth about why she left him.

  But there’s an added complication—the killer isn’t done, and Caitlin could be the next target.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Hold On to Me:

  Sorry? How could he be sorry, with Caitlin’s lips against his, her urgent hands on his skin? Tick cradled her head, dipping his tongue into the dark heat of her mouth. She moaned, the sound sending a heavy rush of need to his groin, before she pulled away, grasped the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head.

  Her desire-shadowed gaze lay on him like a touch and stoked his need higher. Eyes locked on his, she settled her hands on his shoulders and eased forward, her thighs straddling his. “What do you want?”

  He smiled at the naughty whisper and gripped her waist, the cotton of her blouse soft against his palms. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

  From beneath her lashes, she flicked a glance at him. She trailed a slender finger down his chest, leaving unbearable excitement in its path. Her fingernail traced a circle around his navel, the muscles in his gut jumping under the soft touch, his erection growing to press against his fly with excruciating intensity. The maddening finger slid down to skim along his waistband.

  She lifted her other hand to release her hair. She shook the sleek mass back and he reached up, itching to bury his hands in it. She caught his wrists, her thighs pressing harder into his.

  “You must have some fantasies, Calvert.” She leaned toward him, her blouse gapping to offer him a glimpse of the sheer bra he’d dreamed of all day. She nuzzled his throat, almost purring. “Something that pushes your buttons.” Her husky voice, a dark whisper, shivered over his ear. Thumbs caressed his wrists, but continued to hold his hands at his sides. “Whatever turns you on.”

  Everything she did turned him on. She’d been every one of his fantasies since he’d taken her to his bed. Or hell, if he was really honest, since that first week at Quantico, during a course on takedown methods, when she’d knocked him on his ass.

  “Cait—”

  “Or maybe you want me to figure it out.”

  Lean thigh muscles flexed against his legs and she pushed at his chest, a light shove, until he lay flat, reclining on his elbows. He laughed, the sound emerging rusty and strangled. “We’ve been here before, Falconetti.”

  “No.” She curled her fingers into his waistband, and his stomach contracted. “Definitely not here, Calvert.”

  Knuckles brushing his abdomen, she popped free the metal button, and his breath stopped. The slow trace of her lowering his zipper felt like a caress. Desperate to touch her, he reached for her, intending to drag her down for a kiss.

  She caught his hands. “No. You’re not touching yet.”

  “Cait.” The frustrated sound was close to a strangled plea and he swallowed hard. He caught her teasing smile before her hair fell forward to shield her face. How the hell did she think he’d keep his hands from her? He was hard, straining and ready now, and she’d barely touched him.

  She pushed his arms above his head again. Stretching forward, she nipped his shoulder, her breasts rubbing against his chest.

  “Damn it, Cait, you’re killing me.” The words were wrung from him on a gasp when she ran her nails down his torso in a light rake, stopping just short of his open fly.

  He grasped her waist and found his wrists captured in a firm grip. She held him down this time, leaning over him, her body cupping him intimately. She moved in a slow, sinuous circle against his straining erection, her low laugh doing incredible things to his nerves. “I don’t have to get out the cuffs, do I, Calvert?”

  The scary thing was he’d let her. He’d let her do anything she wanted to him and enjoy every minute of it. He was hers.

  Great. He was already a goner.

  “Whatever you want, Falconetti.”

  “Giving me control can be a dangerous thing,” she murmured against his ear. Easing his hands above his head once more, she rotated her hips into his, and he ground his teeth, aching to be inside her.

  “And I told you, I don’t have a problem relinquishing control. Sometimes it can be damned interesting.”

  Releasing him, she kissed him, a slow, teasing caress. “Let’s find out how interesting.”

  Metal clinked before the cold circle closed around his right wrist. He jerked, and the other cuff rasped shut on his left wrist. His fingers brushed the heavy wood post on his coffee table, and surprised, he stared into green eyes near black with passion and mischief. She rested her hands on the floor, either side of his torso, a smile quirking at her mouth, and excitement burned in his gut.

  Interesting wasn’t the word.

  She didn’t speak, but blazed a trail of kisses down his abdomen. Her fingers curled in his waistband again and she
tugged downward, jeans and boxer briefs sliding over his hips. At the rush of cool air, his dick twitched, and he caught another glimpse of her wayward smile. She pulled the garments free of his body and tossed them aside.

  Tracing a design on the inside of his thigh, she tilted her head. “You said something about giving me control?”

  Considering he was the one naked, incredibly aroused and handcuffed, he figured she already had it. “It’s…interesting.”

  Her fingertip moved up his leg, eased over his scrotum in a featherweight caress. Uncontrollably, his back arched, his eyes slid closed. “God, precious.”

  She skimmed the finger along the length of his erection, the light touch shivering through him, sending sparks to every nerve.

  The lush wetness of her mouth closed around him. He bowed again, his stomach clenching, the cuff chain rattling against the table leg.

  “Holy hell,” he gasped, his breathing coming in uneven bursts. More than anything, he wanted to touch her, the smoothness of her skin under his hands, and he could do nothing but give himself over to the pure sin of her mouth.

  She had him completely at her mercy.

  Love is the last line of defense.

  Still Mine

  © 2008 Mary Wine

  Jolene Benate has spent six years keeping a vow to herself to never again be that weak woman weeping at her young husband’s graveside. Now she’s a deputy marshal on the elite warrant squad, as physically and mentally tough as they come. But moving on isn’t as easy as it looks.

  Especially when the husband she thought was dead suddenly reappears. And, even in the face of his betrayal, she still wants him.

  Paul Benate’s gifted mind was groomed from a young age to serve the military and its top-secret projects. His one youthful act of rebellion was to marry Jolene, only to discover a terrorist could use her to force him to give up his classified secrets. For her own safety, he had to let her go.

  But the safety he thought was assured by his “death” was only an illusion. Secrets have a way of surfacing, and once again Jolene is the perfect target. There’s only one thing left to do…reclaim the woman that he has always loved.

  Even if she’s mad as hell at him.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Still Mine:

  She didn’t think there was a spot on her body that didn’t hurt. Pushing one boot heel against the other, she tried to force it off her foot. The fatigues were baggy enough to sleep in, but she wanted her boots off. Sitting up she stopped with her hands in midair as she looked at the gauze covering her fingers. Removing her boots was suddenly a lot more complicated.

  “So what now, Paul?” Her blue gaze raked his face for a solution. “Am I just expected to live on the crumbs that you and Durant remember to cast my way?”

  The need to close her eyes was becoming more pressing. Jo held them open hoping for a measure of peace before she succumbed to her body’s fatigue. The man in front of her held the answers, she was certain of it. She wanted to prod him until she stopped yearning for something from him. She really wasn’t even sure what it was anymore, only that he could provide it.

  He lowered his body to sit beside her and the bed gave under his weight. He reached for her foot and began untying the lace. He pulled it free and went after the opposite boot before he took both her socks off as well.

  “We’re going to rebuild our lives.”

  He turned the bedding down and she scooted over, so that she could slide her feet under it. Being helped into bed was humiliating, but she needed the warmth of the covers too much to refuse.

  “That’s impossible.” Her voice lacked confidence. Even she heard it.

  Paul raised an eyebrow at her. “You forget, Jo, I’m the man who makes the impossible a reality. I’ve never taken someone else’s boundaries and lived inside them.”

  She shivered as he stroked the surface of her face, lingering over the touch.

  “We’re going to collide again, Jo. Just like we did six years ago.”

  Reaching out, Paul slowly ran his hand over the side of her face. She jerked her head away but he only grinned. “Tell me your nipples aren’t hard.” He caught the back of her head and leaned down over her body, controlling her as he settled her weight against the pillow. His body heat surrounded her, setting off a deep hunger that threatened to drive her insane if she didn’t surrender to it. She was like an addict, never recovering, only holding off the urges day by day. Being faced with her addiction was too much temptation.

  “Tell me you don’t dream about me, that you could move on if you got a seat on one of those outbound planes tomorrow.” His breath teased her lips and the tender flesh tingled, begging for a kiss. He pressed down farther so that his chest touched her breasts. A little moan escaped her lips and his eyes filled with enjoyment.

  “You don’t have to tell me because I never did either.” His hand massaged the tight muscles of her neck and she sighed as relief rippled down her spine.

  “They sent me surveillance photos of you, every week.” He lay down next to her and rolled onto his side, molding his body along hers, his fingers playing in her hair.

  Her eyes widened. “You’ve been watching me?” Her voice cracked as she tried to shake his hand off her forehead, but he surrounded her. Actually holding her, while keeping his body weight carefully away from her injured hands. The warm scent of his skin completed the moment, bathing her in intimacy. It was the tender kind that you hoped to experience with a lover after the sex was over. Tonight, she swallowed the lump in her throat because it would be easy to think Paul was lingering beside her out of love.

  “Yes. I looked forward to them, Jo. It was the only way I could see you.” He stroked her cheek and her eyelids fluttered as she began losing the battle to debate anything with him. His body was close and she just wanted to curl up next to him while the stress of reality dissipated, leaving her to the comfort of the man she loved.

  “I needed to see you.”

  His eyes filled with a flickering hunger that mesmerized her because it was the kind that still burned inside herself.

  “So, we’re still married and I plan on being your husband in every sense of the word.”

  His mouth touched hers, drowning out her reply. It was a tender kiss and a deep one. He pressed her lips apart, thrusting his tongue inside, stroking and mingling with her tongue as he rubbed his chest against her breasts. Heat flooded her, pooling in her belly. It was too delicious to struggle against and she kissed him back with equal heat.

  Killer Moves

  Mary Eason

  They’re a match made in the hallowed halls of Quantico. Until Death comes knocking…

  Six years ago, Kara Bryant tapped into the mind of a serial killer—and nearly became his last victim. Her FBI colleague and lover, Davis Martin, put the murderer behind bars, then devastated her with his abrupt rejection. Worse, the vivid nightmares that followed her to her desert retreat have recently taken a fresh, frightening turn.

  She should have foreseen that Davis would turn up. She’s just not sure her still-broken heart can take the strain.

  Davis thought he’d made the right decision for everyone involved in a case that almost ended in disaster, thanks to his mistakes. But with a new string of killings that one by one is taking out the women of his past, suddenly he wonders if he let the real Death Angel get away. Kara is the only one who can help him nail the bastard for good this time—if she can forgive him.

  He wasn’t expecting the woman he never stopped loving to love him back. Nor is he prepared to come face-to-face with Kara’s secret. One that raises the stakes impossibly high.

  Warning: Contains one smokin’ hot FBI agent, a strong-willed psychic heroine who can more than give him a run for his money, and one nasty killer who will keep you up way into the night.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work o
f fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  Killer Moves

  Copyright © 2012 by Mary Eason

  ISBN: 978-1-60928-805-1

  Edited by Sue Ellen Gower

  Cover by Scott Carpenter

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2012

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  The Beginning

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  About the Author

  Look for these titles by Mary Eason

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