by Jenn Black
“Hey,” she called, striding back into the kitchen where Davis still lounged by the counter. “I thought you said this place has two bedrooms.”
“It does. Well, did,” he corrected. “One’s my work room now. Don’t look so surprised, Lori. You can’t seriously tell me you’ve ever been in a bachelor pad with a guest room.”
Good point. But.
“Where am I supposed to sleep?” she demanded. “You can’t expect me to–”
“Stop right there, honey, before you make an offer I can’t refuse,” Davis interrupted with a sexy smile. “I’ll bunk on the couch. I do half the time anyway, when I fall asleep watching the ever-fascinating late-night infomercials.”
Lori narrowed her eyes at him and his grin stretched wider. Incorrigible man.
She snatched her bag up from the floor and stalked off to his bedroom, throwing her belongings on the bed and slamming the door behind her. Deciding she was being a bit more childish than truly necessary, she reopened the door and stepped back out into the hall.
Or, she would have, if Davis hadn’t been standing just on the other side of the door.
Their bodies collided with a soft thump, and his hands flew to her upper arms to steady her against his chest. Nothing could steady the fluttering in her stomach or the trembling of her hands.
“Hey,” he said softly. “If this doesn’t work for you, I’ll take you somewhere else.”
Lori shook her head, cognizant of nothing but the warm feel of his palms on her skin. “I’m sorry. It’s not that. I’m just shook up. It’s been a long day.”
His hands traveled up her shoulders to her cheeks, but his eyes never left her face. “You’re telling me. I thought I lost you. It was the worst moment of my entire life.”
Heat seared up Lori’s neck and the churning inside her body turned molten. “I—You didn’t lose me. Davy–”
Then his mouth was on hers and she forgot about saying whatever secret longing that she’d almost confessed. His lips brushed against hers side to side, his breath hot against her skin, his touch tentative.
She wanted more.
Lori rose to her toes and pressed her mouth firmly to his, clinging to him for a moment before twining her hands around his neck.
Davis swayed for a second, then pivoted and led her backward until his legs hit the bed. He leaned his back onto the mattress, taking her with him until she lay atop him, their legs entwined and their kisses desperate for something neither was willing to put into words.
* * *
A stream of stinging curse words spewed from Amber’s lips.
“Who am I, Snidely Whiplash?” she muttered. “I’m smarter than that.”
With a jerk of the wheel, she squeezed her Camry in a tight spot between a minivan and an SUV, both inconveniently parked over the line. It may be Wednesday, but it was also Spring Break and the mall’s parking garage next to the AMC 20 bulged with cars.
Perfect, if she did say so herself.
Amber popped her trunk, tossed in her Glock, pulled out a screwdriver, and slammed the lid. She hesitated only a moment before reopening the trunk and tossing her gun back in her purse. Better safe than sorry, and right now—much as it galled to admit– she was a little sorry.
If only she hadn’t had to tear out of there with Preggo Pig just scant seconds behind!
She would have loved to see whether she’d finally managed to plug a bullet hole in Miss Sassypant’s smarmy little face.
Never mind. Work to be done.
She lounged against her trunk, smiling idly at startled passers-by until her aisle emptied of teenagers scurrying to the big screen.
In seconds, her license plate clattered to the ground. Amber snatched it up and tucked it under one armpit. Wasting no time, she crouched behind the SUV with the bad park job and poised to remove the plate.
No.
Straightening, Amber scanned the row of cars. She stalked over to the other side of the garage before she found what she wanted.
Another Camry. Wrong year, yes. More burgundy than red, fine. No spoiler. Retarded “Baby On Board” monstrosity hanging in the back window. None of that would show in a police scan.
Right make, right model, same stupid Florida orange.
Less than a minute later, Amber strode back to her Camry, a shiny new license plate under her arm. Okay, not shiny. More like grimy and disgusting. What trailer park did those freaks crawl out of? The first thing she was going to have to do was change her clothes.
Done with the new plate, Amber replaced her screwdriver in her trunk and groaned.
Clothes. She could hardly go home. Ever. Damn that Lori Summers! She would have to reinvent herself. Change names. States. Maybe spend a year in Mexico.
But first, she needed new clothes. And money. Amber glanced at the mall entrance. No sense taking the chance that her accounts were frozen or, worse, being watched.
She smirked. Most people had no idea what terror technology could bring. Amber slipped behind the wheel and started the engine.
The easiest path to clothes and money was a little three-letter word: men.
With one hand, she fished in her purse for her cell phone. She scrolled through her contact list.
All the men she’d slept with over the past years were rich and generous with their money. Most had strong reasons of their own not to mention their relationship. And those who had earned more than a single booty call typically had a drawerful of Amber-sized clothing, whether they knew it or not.
Boy Scouts weren’t the only ones to always be prepared.
Amber backed out of her parking space and headed for a small town outside of Isla Concha.
Her outlook had already improved and her bunched muscles began to relax. Tonight she’d get some clothes, some money, some sex. Watch a little TV. Make a few plans. Reload her cigarette supply.
And tomorrow, she’d take care of little Lori Summers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He should’ve never let her go.
The feel of Lori’s soft body draped across his was more than enough to bring back a barrage of feelings.
Protectiveness. Contentedness. Arousal.
Davis wasn’t sure he’d survive staying this close to Lori. Her mere presence brought up painful memories. The touch of her tongue against his made him want to claim her as his. Forever.
With a desperate groan, Davis rolled over, taking her with him, so that he was on top and she lay underneath. He meant to get up, to go away, to leave her alone, but somehow he’d managed to not break the kiss and now all of his good intentions evaporated into the ether.
Her slender fingers tugged at his hair, her breasts strained against his chest, and—oh, Lord—her long legs slid up to wrap around his hips. There was only one place this kind of monkey business could lead, and he couldn’t get there fast enough.
Man, how he’d missed her. And today, that one horrible moment when he was so sure that she’d been hit…
A new layer of sweat moistened Davis’s skin. He had to touch her. He had to see her.
He fumbled at her shoes, the tiny straps refusing to cooperate.
She removed one hand from his hair and helped him out, throwing each against the wall in rapid succession.
Davis grabbed her wrists and forced them over her head, gripping them with his left hand while the right unbuttoned her blouse.
Seven buttons seemed like seventy. Each exposed another inch of creamy skin.
She must not have been tanning through the winter. The satiny bra seemed shockingly black against her pale skin. Hard nipples poked up through the thin material. Davis took one into his mouth, his tongue dampening the silk as he suckled.
Lori nearly came up off the bed.
Her wrists burst from his grip. She leaned upward, shoving her breast deeper into Davis’s mouth. Within seconds, her blouse flew to the floor and she had her bra unhooked.
Davis slid his mouth to the valley between her breasts and bit down on the black silk. H
e tugged the scrap of fabric from her with his teeth and tossed it over one shoulder. With a smile, he pushed her back onto the mattress. His tongue flicked across bare nipples.
Lori arched her back and moaned.
He broke contact for a brief moment, just long enough to unbuckle his dress pants and wiggle them to the floor, revealing navy boxer shorts and a massive erection. He tugged off her jeans, accidentally-on-purpose taking her panties with them.
She sat up on the edge of the mattress, pulling him between her legs.
Even through the now-tight cotton, he throbbed against her. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her hair and the scent of her shampoo enveloped him.
Slowly, she unbuttoned his dress shirt and let it fall to the floor. Davis crossed his arms at his waist and nearly ripped off the white t-shirt beneath in his hurry.
Lori gave him a catlike grin and pressed a trail of hot kisses from the center of his chest to his navel to the elastic waistband of his boxer shorts, which twitched in response.
He should’ve gone commando.
Davis tugged off his shorts and tilted her backwards until she rested on her elbows, her hips at the mattress’s edge and her nipples dark against plump, round breasts. He teased the erect nipples with the tips of his fingers before cupping both breasts in his hands.
She closed her eyes and a garbled mewl escaped her throat.
He captured her mouth with his own, his arousal straining against the damp heat between her legs. Lori widened her knees.
Davis angled himself to enter, then paused.
“I thought you died today,” he whispered against her mouth.
“I didn’t,” she answered, her breath sweet and moist.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Davis heard himself insisting, his voice husky.
She wiggled her hips, wetting his skin in the process. “I’m here.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “I thought–”
“You think too much.”
Lori fell back against the mattress as she reached out her hands to his backside and forced their bodies together.
Davis completely forgot his train of thought as he lost himself in pure pleasure. Bracing his feet on the floor, he slid his upturned hands beneath her back, hugging her warm little body to him as he rocked into her, their hungry mouths never parting.
He was in heaven. Lori was right here—he was holding her. Pleasuring her. She was naked. She was perfect. She was moaning. She was… coming.
Davis couldn’t hold back any longer as Lori’s spasming muscles brought him over the edge. Once he could breathe again, he scooped her in his arms.
He centered her on the bed, snuggling beside her, and enveloping her in a full body hug.
Arms and legs tangled together with hers, Davis grimaced into the top of her head and wondered what on earth he’d just done.
* * *
Lori awoke to the sound of running water.
Had Kimberley left the faucet on again? Lori shot up in bed and then blinked owlishly at the room, disoriented. Although the artwork on the walls complemented the shades-of-blue décor, this was not her décor.
This was not her bedroom. Kimberley was not here. Life was horrible.
Davis. Davis was in the shower. Naked.
Lori clutched the sheet tighter. Life wasn’t one hundred percent horrible. Last night had been amazing. Frantic. Perfect.
There was no way it could last.
She’d felt so safe wrapped in his arms. Protected. Loved. Both were an illusion. As long as the killer was out there, hunting her, she could never be safe. And as Lori’s teenage memories could attest, great sex with Davis Hamilton never equaled happy ever after.
Not that he wasn’t attracted to her. That much had been deliciously clear.
Lori swung her legs over the side of the bed and permitted herself a rueful smile. If she slid open the shower curtain right now, still naked from last night, she doubted they’d even make it back to the bedroom.
She frowned.
Talk about a bad idea. A maniac was on the loose; someone targeting the innocent people around Lori and crazy enough to kill anyone in her path. Davis had been safely out of her life for more than a full decade, and in one night she managed to clutch him to her and endanger him as well.
What the hell had she been thinking?
The bedroom door swung open and Davis stepped inside. A white terrycloth towel hung around his waist. Droplets of water beaded on his chest. Damp hair clung to his forehead. He was irresistible… she would have to be strong.
“Well, good morning,” he said with a warm smile. His eyes heated as his gaze traveled her nude body.
Lori shook her head. “I should leave.”
“Leave? What are you talking about?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Do what? I’m not going to ravish you. I have to go to work.”
“Listen to me. You’re in danger as long as I’m here. Everyone around me is in danger.”
“That’s not true.” Davis removed the towel from his waist in order to dry his hair.
Lori tried not to stare.
“Come on. Why am I here in the first place? Not because you’ve been pining to rekindle our relationship. I’m here because of Tommy Turner. Because of Kimberley. Because some whack-job is trying to gun me down. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”
Davis waved one arm. “So what are you saying? You should run off by yourself? Cruise into the sunset with your big pink Mustang and a tank of gas? How long do you think you’d last before she found you?”
“At least nobody else would have to die,” Lori muttered. She’d barely finished the sentence before Davis loomed over her, squeezing her wrists in a viselike grip.
“Never—I mean never—talk like that. Ever again.” His intense stare seemed to bore into her soul.
“I’m just saying I more or less dragged you down with me.”
His hands shook around her wrists before he abruptly dropped her arms and stalked back to the doorway to retrieve his towel and tie it back around his hips. “You didn’t drag me anywhere. I’m a cop, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I did notice. You’re a cop, not a babysitter. And hopefully not a target.”
“Lori, the only person who did any dragging was the killer. That’s who got us all into this mess. I’m not going to have you feeling guilty for something you have no control over.”
“How am I not supposed to feel guilty?” Lori cried out, throwing up her hands. “People are dead! My best friend was killed in my bed. This has got to stop, any way it can.”
“So, what’s your big idea?” Davis asked in a tone that implied he was ready to kibosh anything she suggested.
“The killer wants me dead, right? So give me to her. Set a trap.”
Davis shook his head. “Dangle you in front of an armed lunatic? You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way I’m using you as bait.”
“You want to catch her, right? Before more people get hurt?”
He stared at her for a moment without responding, emotion twitching across his face. “You know I do. I want to stop her. I need to stop her. And I will stop her. But I can’t risk you to do so. I just can’t.”
Lori opened her mouth to speak, but Davis held up his palm in warning.
“Don’t ask again. I don’t want to hear it. I actually came in here to tell you that you don’t have to sleep naked anymore if you don’t want to. Feel free to borrow my shirts or anything that you want. Nightclothes didn’t even cross my mind when I was at your house packing that bag. I could barely handle the pressure of keeping a clean mind while I picked out panties.”
He focused on the wall above her head. Lori sighed. He was obviously struggling to change the subject. Fine.
“I do have a pajama drawer,” she admitted. “Not in the closet. Once you go in, it’s on your left, third drawer down.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? Yes, it is. What did
you do, rearrange my laundry?”
A smile cracked his stony exterior and he finally met her eyes. “Don’t be silly. Men don’t do laundry.”
She stuck out her tongue.
“What I meant is, I can’t go back to your house. It’s too dangerous. Although we’ve got officers driving by every half an hour, we don’t have the budget for a full-time stakeout. If the perp is watching your house, I can’t take the chance of leading her straight to you.”
Lori swallowed.
“I’m sorry,” Davis said, sincerity in his eyes, “but I don’t want to run the risk of advertising your location. To anyone. Not the killer, not my department. It’s going to have to be t-shirts until the perp’s locked up where she belongs.”
“Okay.” Lori nodded.
“And that’s another thing. You’re famous.”
“I am not.”
“Now’s not the time to be humble. This is where you grew up. Even if you were only famous to a few people, you’d still be famous here. And get real—your face has been plastered on billboards nationwide.”
“That was over a year ago.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t changed that much, Blondie. Half the guys at the station have your Swimsuit Edition taped inside their lockers.”
“Davis, that’s just creepy.”
“Give me a break. You know men don’t read magazines for the articles.”
Lori crossed her arms.
“Don’t be bullheaded about this, woman. I’m serious. If somebody recognizes you, word will travel fast, whether you believe that or not. Way too risky. You can’t leave the house unless I’m with you.”
“Are you going out to breakfast, then? I’ll come with you. I’m hungry.”
He shook his head with a smile. “Maybe tomorrow, once this is all behind us. This morning I’ve got to go catch me a killer. You’ll have to make do with Coco Puffs.”
“You’re joking, right?”
Davis didn’t change expression.
“Come on. You don’t still eat Coco Puffs, do you?”
He shrugged one tan shoulder. With a smirk, he turned to his dresser and began pulling on clothes. The man was just as sexy and infuriating now as he was a decade ago.