“Please,” she whispered, reaching for the waistband of his jeans. “I want you inside me.”
He moved to her other breast and whispered, “We’re just getting started. We’ve got a lot of rungs on the ladder before we get to the top and jump off.”
She cupped his cheek, forcing him to look up at her. “We have all night. Fill me up. Then we’ll climb back down and hit every single rung, I swear to God.” Some more than once.
With his wide gleaming smile, he looked a little wolfish. But he didn’t argue.
Sliding off his lap, Olivia stood in front of him, reached for her zipper and unfastened her black slacks. She let them fall to the floor. Wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy panties, she stared down at him, seeing his gaze roam over her. Anticipation and hunger gleamed in his eyes, and he looked almost unable to help himself as he leaned forward and pressed a warm, openmouthed kiss to the hollow below her right hip.
“Liv, please, just two rungs down the ladder,” he begged, moving his mouth along the elastic edge of her panties. She felt his warm breath flow through the nylon into the curls covering her sex and shuddered, having to drop her hands onto his shoulders as her legs went weak. “Or one. Give me just one.”
“Uh . . .”
He didn’t wait for permission. Instead, with wicked intent, he merely tugged her panties off and continued to taste her into near incoherence. A cry built up in the back of her throat as warm, wonderful waves of pleasure began to roll through her. Olivia was shaking so hard, he had to support her, holding her by the hips. And when an orgasm washed over her, she tossed her head back and let out a low cry of delight.
That seemed to snap whatever restraints had been holding him back. Gabe rose to his feet, tore his jeans off and reached for her again. She held back for the briefest moment, wanting to see him—all of him—and the sight was enough to make every part of her that wasn’t already soft, warm and ready get that way on the spot. She was nearly desperate to feel that thick erection pressing into her, going so deep he’d imprint himself on her.
Knowing they hadn’t discussed the issue, she said, “I’m on the pill. And I’ve, uh . . . Well, I haven’t been with a lot of people.”
He obviously understood what she was getting at. “It’s been a long time for me, too, Liv. I don’t do casual sex, and I never have . . . in case you were worried about that.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Good,” he whispered as he maneuvered her around, until her back was to the bed. Then he pushed her down onto it, following her, kneeling above her. “I’m glad that’s taken care of, because I am dying to feel you wrapped around me, without any kind of barrier between us.”
There was none of any kind, prophylactic or otherwise. Her own need to protect herself from a world that hadn’t always been kind about the things she’d seen, his to keep up a tough-guy, uncaring façade to prove he’d risen above his childhood—all of that had fallen away. Now they were just two people who were falling for each other, giving in to the emotions and desires that had been nipping at them in tiny bites of awareness since the moment they’d met.
“I’ve wanted you so much,” he told her as he moved between her parted thighs.
Liv bent one knee, curving up to welcome him. “I’ve wanted you, too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down for a kiss, even as he moved his hands down to see whether she was really as ready for him as she claimed to be.
She cried out against his mouth when he slid his fingers between her slick womanly folds and jerked when he slid one inside her.
“Top rung,” she reminded him, certain he had to realize she had meant what she’d said. She was ready, her body wet, soft, waiting to be filled. She wanted him inside her, now.
“Then we go down?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with erotic wickedness.
She nodded. “Oh, yeah. We definitely go down.”
“Deal,” he said, then moved closer, replacing his warm, strong fingers with that equally warm erection.
Olivia closed her eyes, held her breath, feeling him begin to slide into her. He was so restrained, so determined that they’d both feel every sensation, every inch of connection.
She felt it. Oh, God, did she feel it. Olivia savored every moment as he moved deeper, possessing her both physically and emotionally, the way no man ever had before. Until, finally, he drove all the way into her, bringing a tiny gasp to her lips.
He froze. “Are you okay?”
She couldn’t speak for a second, focused solely on the amazing fullness, the heat, the pleasure of it. Then, finally she whispered, “So okay, I might never be not okay again.”
Her answer seemed to please him; he smiled and kissed her again, whispering sweet words against her lips. He told her how beautiful she was, how good she felt, how much he’d wanted her. All of those words echoed the thoughts that had been going on in her mind.
They began to move together. There was no awkwardness, no first-timers-getting-acquainted trepidation. Their two bodies seemed to become as one, each gentle thrust met, each powerful one welcomed with a groan or gasp of delight. As he filled her with deep, deliberate strokes, Olivia began to feel everything else—the dark thoughts, the worries—vanish. There was only this wonderful, passionate man, making her feel better than she’d ever thought she could.
He kissed her like he had never tasted anything more perfect than her mouth and made love to her like he never intended to stop. Every moment was better, more fantastic than the last, each caress so evocative and every touch wrapped in sensuality. Until finally, after Olivia had ridden yet another wave of pleasure to its shattering culmination, Gabe cried out his release against her hair, joining her at last.
Afterward, he rolled over onto his back, taking her with him so she lay across him. She felt his heart pounding against her cheek and the movement of his chest as he drew in deep breaths that finally began to slow.
They were still for a long while. She had no idea what time it was; she just knew the room had brightened as the moon moved in the sky. It shone through the uncurtained glass doors, bathing their bodies in soft, gentle light. Above them, the ceiling fan swirled lazily, sending streams of air to cool their heated skin.
“Gabe,” she eventually whispered, her voice lazy, sated and thick with sex.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Thanks for pushing me out of the path of that car.”
“Pushing doesn’t sound heroic enough. I didn’t push you; I swooped in and carried you.”
She chuckled. “Okay, thanks for carrying me then. You really are my hero.” In so many ways.
He ran his fingers down her back, caressing the sensitive spot at the base of her spine. “Yeah, well, thank you for not getting run down by it before I could reach you.”
“It wasn’t a very auspicious first meeting,” she admitted.
She felt him stroke her cheek, pushing her hair back. Then, putting his index finger below her chin, he tipped her face up so she would meet his eyes. “However it happened, Olivia, whatever the circumstances, I have the feeling that every day for the rest of my life I’m gonna thank God for bringing you into it.”
Watching Olivia’s balcony doors from the shadowy backyard of the house next door, Johnny blew out an angry breath. He wasn’t gonna be able to grab the whore tonight.
He muttered a curse, not worried that somebody might hear him. The family who lived in this house had gone on vacation—who’d know their schedule better than the good old lawn guy who was supposed to come by and water every other day?
“Damn, them people are stupid,” he muttered. Stupid and trusting. He could go into that house and clean it out, top to bottom. They’d never checked no references, never even wondered if Lenny was his real name. They just knew he worked cheaper than most other guys and did a good job, so they kept him around.
The timing of their trip had been perfect, considering he was ready to take care of the little bitch he’d hated for more than a decade. He�
�d come here at around nine, after doing some research for some other business he would be taking care of later, and had started watching the house. He’d been waiting for the lights to go off, which would indicate Olivia Wainwright had gone to bed.
He had been so excited at the thought of waking her up again. A hand clamped on her face in the middle of the night. A familiar voice whispering that she’d better not scream, or else he’d kill her sister. A knife pressed to her throat. She’d be downright sick in the head.
Confusion would make her slow. Memories would make her crazy. Fear would be her undoing.
“But not tonight,” he snapped, so frustrated he wanted to break something.
Because the damn woman had brought that cop up to her room. He’d seen a pair of shadows passing by an upstairs window.
She’d ruined his plans for tonight, when he’d been ready to grab her, take her, end this.
He had it all worked out in his mind, what he was gonna do to Olivia. Just smothering her or shooting her in her bed—like he intended to do to his other victim tonight—was too good for this one. He wanted her in his power, wanted her to be afraid, wanted to gobble up her terror, gorge on it.
He wanted her to see Jack and know that no matter what she’d done, nothin’ could come between him and his boy.
But no. She wasn’t alone. He’d have to wait until tomorrow. The cop might be there all night, but he couldn’t stay 24/7. He glanced at his watch, realizing how late it was. But the night wasn’t a total loss. He had another victim on his list. He’d planned to grab Olivia, knock her out, and leave her tied up in the back of his truck while he ran his other errand. He’d thought it’d be quick, secretive, not too messy. An in-and-out job to eliminate the threat that had arisen. Now, though, he guessed he’d just go take care of that errand without her.
That’s just fine. Now maybe I can have some fun, take my time. You don’t have to do this, no need to rush through it. I’ll handle everything.
Johnny rubbed his forehead, feeling the tingling of a headache, then reached into his pocket and grabbed the small bottle of aspirin he always kept on him. He dumped a few in his hand, popped them into his mouth and chewed, the familiar tart, acidic taste comforting and soothing as a cool cloth on his brow.
For a second, he couldn’t remember what he was doing. He’d had it planned: take the girl, run that other errand, eliminate the threat quickly. A silenced gunshot in the dark while his prey was sleeping. He didn’t take pleasure in killing; he preferred to just do it and be done.
No, no. That’ll be too easy. You just leave it to me. ’Cause I do take pleasure in it.
He’d heard the voice more clearly that time and didn’t confuse it for a buzzing insect or a passerby on the street. His mind cleared, came into focus, and he acknowledged that he was hearing the whispers of his old friend, his secret, invisible friend, who always seemed to show up when things was really bad for Johnny. Like when he was bein’ hurt, or beat, or when those evil people who’d taken him in as a kid did their nasty things to him and all the other foster kids they was getting paid to take care of . . . like his own little baby cousin. His one remaining connection to his old life.
Everything’s gonna be just fine.
Yes, he thought it would. Because it appeared that tonight, like always, his secret friend would take care of everything.
Chapter 12
Armed with a search warrant, which had been easy to procure, given the human remains already found, as well as the ownership of the property, Gabe had gone back out to the woods early Monday to hook up with the search crews. He hadn’t even gone in to the precinct, having met with someone from the DA’s office who’d obtained the warrant, then with the team leader, who was bringing out the dogs and the ground-penetrating radar.
They wouldn’t really need either one. He knew where the remaining two bodies were buried. But he had to keep up appearances, pretend he didn’t have the information.
It was damned frustrating, a waste of time, and he intended to keep steering the search to make sure the bodies were found quickly. He wasn’t going to spend another whole day in the woods, not when there was a child to find. He wanted the graves exhumed and the remains delivered to the coroner so they could try to find out who these victims had been.
Learning their identities was the first step in finding out who’d killed them. They just needed one break, one single, tiny break—a suspect the police had never charged, a name that popped up in more than one investigation.
Please, God, just give me one break here.
He wanted to finish this with real investigative police work. Nothing supernatural. Not that he didn’t appreciate the help of the eXtreme Investigations group. In fact, they had proved invaluable. Thing was, he couldn’t very well say, “Sure, y’all come on and give us a hand . . . uh, except you, Liv, you’re not allowed.”
Worrying about her, wanting to protect her, was a lover’s prerogative. After last night, he had definitely earned the title of lover. Damn, had he ever earned it—in a night he wouldn’t forget as long as he lived.
Still, he’d seen her face when he’d refused her help last night; he knew she’d agreed to mollify him. But if this case stayed cold and he didn’t get something going fast, not only Olivia but also all the rest of her people would probably be bugging him to change his mind.
“Forget it,” he mumbled as he watched the search crews running the GPR over the wooded ground about ten yards from where he knew they were gonna hit pay dirt.
Knowing things were about to get a lot busier, he grabbed his phone and dialed the precinct. He hadn’t spoken to Ty since yesterday, when his partner had dropped Mick off outside the eXtreme Investigations office.
Gabe had been so busy throughout the evening, then so distracted by what happened with Olivia, that he hadn’t even checked his messages. So he hadn’t realized until this morning that his partner had called last night. Sounding excited, Ty said he thought he’d found a major lead to the identity of little Zachary and would be in touch with more information as soon as he had it.
Equally as excited, especially since the victim pool was widening and they should soon have other names to tie to Zachary’s, he’d been trying to reach the man all morning. Ty hadn’t been answering his cell or the phone on his desk. Being pretty busy himself, Gabe hadn’t been too worried about it, but now it was going on nine thirty, and it just wasn’t like his partner to stay out of touch. Especially when they were working a major case.
Finally deciding to try a little harder, Gabe dialed not Ty’s direct line or the central operator but the phone number of Bill Waczinski, one of the other detectives on the squad.
“Hey, it’s Cooper,” Gabe said as soon as the other man answered. “Have you seen Wallace this morning?”
“What’sa matter, Coop, you lose your rookie partner?”
“I caught that case out in the woods, where the remains were found. Ty’s been working on something else.”
“Yeah, I know I saw him yesterday. He was trying to ID the kid from last week’s fire.”
“When did you see him?”
“About five, right before I left. He was still at his desk.”
Hearing a few shouts, Gabe realized the guy holding the radar equipment had just spotted something. He covered his free ear, wanting to finish the conversation, already knowing things were about to get a lot busier on site. “What about this morning?”
“Not hide nor hair,” Waczinski said. “Usually the kid’s the first one here, putting the coffee on—you got him well trained. I had to make it myself when I got in. Hold on a second.” He heard the big man’s footsteps. Then the detective came back on the line. “Nope, I think you’ve got an AWOL partner: His desk is cleared, computer off, chair pushed in. I don’t think he’s been here since last night.”
Gabe had been just a little concerned before he’d called in. Now his tension went up a notch. The muscles in the back of his neck tightened, his skin prickled. He th
ought frantically, wondering if Ty had said anything about an appointment or anything else. He could think of nothing. “Okay, thanks Waczinski. I’ll try him at home. Maybe he’s sick or something.”
Or maybe he ended up going to find Brooke Wainwright last night, just to make sure she was okay after the altercation with Buckman. And maybe the two of them got carried away? Hell, stranger things had happened. Though he didn’t like the idea of his friend getting mixed up between a woman and her fiancé, he couldn’t help hoping it was something like that rather than anything . . . else.
Ending the call, he saw the searchers converging on the spot where body number two, the woman, if Morgan was to be believed—and so far, he hadn’t been wrong—would be located. But rather than joining them, he made another call. He knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate until he found out where Ty was.
He tried his house and got the machine. Tried both calling and texting the cell. He considered calling Olivia. He wanted to say good morning to her, anyway, since he’d had to get up and leave her bed at a little after dawn so he could go home and get fresh clothes. But what was he gonna say: Hey, do you think your sister cheated on her fiancé last night and might be shacked up in a hotel somewhere with my partner right now?
Having another idea, another possible explanation, he dialed Julia Harrington. Maybe Ty had contacted her about the case and she’d given him some other lead this morning.
“Morning, Cooper,” the woman said as soon as she answered. “How’s it going out there?”
“Pretty well,” he told her. “Looks like they’ve found the second victim. Listen, have you heard from my partner this morning?”
“Detective Wallace? No, not a word.”
That tension started again, but he didn’t give it too much power over his imagination. Ty could have woken up this morning with a toothache and gone to the dentist. He could right now be numb with Novocain, with a drill boring at him. Or he could be with Brooke—and could be the one doing the drilling. Crass, perhaps, but those explanations were better than some of the alternatives that were flashing in his mind. He suddenly wondered if this was how parents felt when their teenager was late coming home or stayed out all night.
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