She was his light, his dream. Every damn day since he’d left she’d haunted him, driving him to the edge of reason, and now she was in his arms, filling the emptiness in his soul.
Being with Kristin had never been like this, all molten heat and burning ice mixed into a combustible liquid bomb. Their few attempts at a normal relationship had resulted in resentment and a sexual chemistry as potent as swamp mud. Nothing like the fiery brunette quaking in his arms.
Amber moaned and dug her nails into his arms, the sharp pricks of pain an exquisite pleasure.
Mindless, Raylan shoved her legs apart and ground against her core, her heat radiating through his jeans.
He tried to tug her dress down, he needed to see her nipples, needed to mark her in places only his eyes would see, but Amber latched onto his hair and forced his head back down. Her response wild. Sensual. Perfect.
He plunged his tongue deeper into her mouth, commanding control, and shoved a hand between them to pluck at her nipple through the fabric of her dress. Her size perfect for his hand, heavy and round, and made for him to squeeze. Amber moaned and arched into his touch.
Before he knew it, Raylan was reaching for his jeans button, all thoughts except plowing into her driven from his brain. He could almost feel her tight channel clamping down on him. He gave a frustrated groan and shoved up from the couch, fumbling with the uncooperative piece of clothing. Amber’s hands joined his, and a second later his cock sprang free. Her hands encircled him immediately, pulling another moan from him.
She pumped him, her head inching closer. And then her mouth surrounded him, hot moist heaven sucking his ability to do anything but react. Her hand around the base of his shaft, she worked him with her mouth. His toes curled in his boots, the pleasure bordering on pain. Raylan cupped the back of her head, hips thrusting in tune with her rhythm.
“Shit. That’s it, cher. Been dreaming about your mouth on me for years.” Raylan thrust forward again and held her head down on his cock. When her tongue worked the underside of his sensitive tip, he gasped and pulled back, her hot mouth nearly pulling his release free.
She smiled a sultry feline grin of pure satisfaction. She liked this. The thought sent a razor blade of lust straight down his spine and into his balls. Unable to speak, Raylan tilted his head down and watched, mesmerized, as her lips closed around his tip and slowly took him all the way inside her mouth. Her nostrils flared, and then she lifted, repeating the tortuous movement until he thought his balls would disappear inside his body. She took him deliberately, showing her control, and dammit, he loved it. Wanted this to last forever.
Blue lights flashed around the cracks in the living room blinds, a siren chirped. Fucking Bo Lawson. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Eyes closed, Amber continued the sensuous pattern, taking him until he hit the back of her throat and slowly easing back, licking his tip, and then down again. Raylan could feel the cum building at the base of his cock.
But she wouldn’t want to be caught like this, and he’d kill the sheriff if he even thought the man looked at his woman wrong. Raylan gripped her head and pulled her back. Her tongue flicked out, scraped his tip. Stars shot behind his eyes. “Amber. Stop.”
“You don’t like it?” She licked her swollen lips.
It took everything for Raylan to zip his pants. “I’m about to explode, but I don’t think you want the sheriff to bear witness to my complete surrender.”
Amber’s gaze darted to the window. Her eyes shot wide, and she jumped up from the couch, hastily combing her hair with her fingers. The result was a devastating blow to his control. Hair all wavy, cheeks flushed, that damn off-the-shoulder dress giving him peek-a-boos of her soft shoulder…
Raylan cursed and tried to adjust the dress so that her neckline centered, but that just showed off her delicate collarbone. “Don’t you have a jacket or something? That dress is too revealing.”
She glanced down, her brows drawing together. “It only shows my shoulders.”
“Exactly, and if Lawson has eyeballs in his head, he’s gonna be dreaming about what’s not showing.” Raylan caught her to him, bending her back over his arm.
Amber placed her hands on his cheeks, laughter dancing around her face. “So you’re telling me because I dressed conservatively, men are going to dream about what I’m hiding?” She waited on him to nod. “So, I should wear something more revealing?”
“No, what I’m saying is you should just stay inside with me, away from men in general.”
Amber’s rich laughter filled the house. She kissed his nose. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For distracting me. Next time I’ll be sure to wear a bikini around town, that way I don’t put any dirty thoughts in anyone’s head.”
Raylan grumbled and nipped her earlobe, wringing a gasp from her. “You do that, and I’ll put you over my knee.” He tilted his hips, rubbing his aching hard-on against her belly. “When I get you back to my place, we’ll finish this conversation.”
The doorbell rang and Raylan released her, adjusting his pants. There was no hope of his erection disappearing, not anytime soon. Amber looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, and he didn’t need a mirror to see his own hard glint of lust.
Raylan yanked open the door. The sheriff stood on the porch, looking out toward the front yard, his hat held in hand.
“Lawson.”
Bo turned. “Wild.”
Raylan stepped to the side, allowing him entry. Raylan closed the door.
Bo stepped to the side, his knowing gaze sliding between Raylan and Amber. The man noticed every detail. Raylan crossed his arms over his chest, daring him to make a comment.
Instead, Bo faced Amber. “I’m sorry you’re going through this. Having a stalker can be very scary.”
“I don’t have a stalker. I have a freaking intruder.” Amber asked.
Bo set his hat on the table. “Not after the incident this morning.”
Amber’s brows swooped down, confusion settling over her features. “How do you know about this morning?”
Raylan tensed, knowing she would be pissed he’d gone to the police behind her back. He planted his feet, lifted his chin, and gave a silent prayer she’d understand. He had plans for her mouth later tonight, and they didn’t involve yelling and telling his to kiss off.
“I processed the evidence myself. I’ve seen a lot of shit in my day, but that smell will stay burned in my nose hair for a while.” Bo went to the kitchen door, did a quick sweep inside, and then returned to the living room, oblivious of the fact he’d just dropped a bomb.
“What did you do?” Amber’s eyes narrowed on Raylan.
He fought back the cringe. “I might have forgotten to tell you about the rest of my morning.”
“Why don’t you fill me in. Now.”
If he didn’t handle the situation with care, the simmering temper smoldering behind her gaze promised an explosion. “Well, now, I didn’t want to cause you further distress.”
“Further distress? Is that cop-speak? Tell me what happened.” Amber crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up, making a bit of cleavage poke over the top of her dress. She followed his gaze, and her cheeks stained red. Quickly, she yanked the material up.
Bo cleared his throat and pointed down the hall. “I’ll go check out the back while you two hash it out.”
Raylan watched the big tall sheriff retreat, his only hope of a buffer disappearing with him.
“Raylan.” Amber tapped her foot.
“I really don’t think you want to hear this.”
She just kept tapping her foot, the look on her face the exact replica of his mama’s when he’d screwed up.
Raylan blew out a long breath, uncrossed his arms, and went to the couch. “When I went to my truck this morning, Tommy had left me a little present inside.”
Her demeanor didn’t change. “And?”
“Why don’t you sit down, cher?” Raylan patted the couch beside him.
&
nbsp; Amber wavered for a second, but then sat next to him. “That bad?”
“I’m afraid so. Seems your boyfriend has a thing for skinning cats. He left one in my truck as a warning to stay away from you.”
Amber’s pupils dilated. “He did what?”
“I’m not going to repeat it. You heard me.” Raylan watched Bo re-enter the living room. “And your friend here didn’t bother to warn you ahead of time that Tommy’s done this before.”
“Dammit, Raylan, you know my hands were tied.” Bo shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Wait a minute, you’re saying that Tommy has been mutilating animals? While we were dating?”
The blood drained from her face, and Raylan immediately grabbed her hand, her skin like ice.
This is what he’d wanted to avoid, this knowledge that she could never unlearn. Some people were sick. Some dangerous. Some both. And the more Raylan learned, Tommy fell in the latter category.
Bo blew out a breath. “No, when he was a juvenile. His dad had the records sealed, but I had access. I thought since he hadn’t done anything in years…”
When Bo shrugged, Raylan barely restrained himself from launching across the room and planting his fist in the sheriff’s face.
Amber shook her head. “I had no idea. I can’t believe someone would do that. In your truck? My house…did he do something like that back there?” Amber indicated the back of the house, her body shaking. Raylan hooked an arm around her shoulders and tucked her up against his side.
Bo shook his head, but Raylan saw something else in the man’s eyes. “No, ma’am. No animals.”
“What else?” Raylan asked.
“Looks like he vandalized her bedroom.” Bo’s lips flattened into one hard line.
Stalkers didn’t just vandalize their victims’ houses. They did things. Nasty things. Raylan stiffened, realizing just what the gleam in Bo’s steel grey gaze meant. “Amber, cher, why don’t you sit here and let me look first.”
She stiffened, and he knew his request would go unheeded.
“My house, Raylan, remember?”
Raylan turned her to him and tilted her chin up. “There are certain things you can’t unsee. I don’t want you burdened with those things. Let me take care of you.”
Amber shook her head, the slow movement sending waves of dread rolling through his gut. He knew without looking what Tommy had done.
“I can’t stick my head in the sand and hide. It means he wins, don’t you see?”
Bo cleared his throat and nodded. “She will have to do a walk through at some point to catalog any missing items.”
Amber stood, brushed shaky hands down her dress and squared her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
Bo led the way down the hall, Amber behind him, Raylan in the back. At least, Bo had enough sense not to let her in first. They reached the bedroom. The door stood wide open, light spilling out into the hall. Bo looked over his shoulder, met Raylan’s gaze, and then stepped to the side.
Raylan watched Amber step into the light, the knot of dread in his gut growing to squeeze off his oxygen and clamp down on his muscles. He watched her stiffen and then waver. Grab the doorframe. Raylan lunged forward, shoving his hands under her arms, before she collapsed.
Amber’s soft sob filled the room. Raylan looked into the bedroom and rage, hot and instant, rushed through his body. Tommy was a dead man.
Eleven
Amber’s heels clanked up the staircase outside Raylan’s hotel, his heavy footfalls sounding right behind her. Weariness and a lingering disgust slowed her movements. The heavy humidity pressed down on Mercy, ratcheting up the heat so that beads of sweat formed like droplets on her skin. Thin cirrus clouds slashed across the sky, cutting through the stars, obliterating the clean edges of a full summer moon.
How could a night so perfect end so horribly?
At the top of the stairs, Amber stepped to the side, allowing Raylan to lead the way. He took her hand, a small comfort, and led her to the end of the walkway, stopping at door number twenty. The maroon entryway stood sentry to the small room, it’s age attested by scratches and a dents. Definitely not the comforts of home.
Raylan dropped her hand and swiped his key card in the slot. The red light turned green. Goose bumps splashed across Amber’s back, and she turned, sensing a malevolence in the air.
“You okay?” Raylan asked.
Forcing herself to turn, Amber nodded and entered his room, unable to shake the sense that someone was watching. She didn’t breathe deeply until he locked the door and flipped the switch. Dingy yellow light from two bedside lamps and one on the dresser highlighted a geometric-print bedspread and an old box TV. The year model probably dated back to the burnt orange carpet. If she had to put the room up against a Motel 6 room, she’d say this one ranked at about a Motel 2 level.
The smell of bleach and mulberry potpourri invaded her nostrils as she walked into the room and sat on the end of the bed. The strange scents offered a weird sort of comfort. Her grandmother had used mulberry religiously all throughout her house, and she had a feeling bleach was a permanent staple for the staff here. Clean and old.
“I know it’s not the Ritz, but at least you’re safe.” Raylan placed her bag on the dresser, and then sat next to her. He took her hand in his, warming what seemed like a never-ending chill in her fingers.
Amber shook her head and squeezed his hand. “It’s fine. Better than my place by a long shot.”
The image of her bedroom kept replaying through her mind like a terrible nightmare. Bloody words smeared on her wall. Her panties strewn on the mattress covered in…
“Stop. Stop thinking right now,” Raylan tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s sick. But he’s stupid. Bo collected enough DNA off your sheets to put him away for good.”
Bile climbed on spiked cleats up her throat, and Amber shot off the bed and ran to the bathroom. She emptied her stomach for the second time that night. Raylan lifted her hair back and pressed a cold cloth to her neck.
She never imagined in her wildest dreams that she’d be the victim of a psychopathic stalker. Amber snatched the washcloth off her neck and pressed it to her face, savoring the cool cloth, wishing it could blot out the night.
“Hey, come here.” Raylan circled her wrist and pulled her to her feet. Her legs wobbled, but she locked her knees. He took the cloth and tossed it in the tiny sink, and then tipped up her chin. “I hate that you saw that. I hate that you’re experiencing this. But I swear, I’ll find that bastard and put him away for good. Daddy’s money or not.”
“But what if you can’t find him? What if he comes back?” Tears pricked her eyes, and Amber swiped at them in frustration.
Raylan held her gaze, his black irises a dark promise of retribution. “I will find him. And if he comes back, I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect you.”
“But you won’t be with me all the time.”
“If I have to quit my job to guard you, I will. I love you. I’ll protect you.” Raylan’s voice turned hard.
Amber leaned into him, needing his strength. She needed to forget.
“Why don’t you take a hot shower? That usually helps after a hard day.” Raylan rubbed her back, soothing her. A shower would be heavenly. The desire to scrub Tommy’s memory from her skin took over. Maybe if she rubbed hard enough, she could get rid of the sense of violation. He’d broken through her barriers, the sense of safety she had in her own home, and destroyed it.
How could she ever sleep in her bed again?
Her body gave an involuntary jerk. Tommy had ruined her underwear, left her bed unclean. And she’d slept with the monster. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Hey, stop thinking like that.” Raylan stepped into her line of vision. “Everyone in this town is looking for him right now. I’m sure he’ll be locked up by the morning, and as soon as the sheriff gets the DNA back from the lab, we can put him away for a long time.”
Amber trembled—fear, fu
ry, frustration—everything mixing and melting inside her, until she was just a big ball of nerves, unsure of herself and her life. Chills of revulsion snaked down her arms. “How could I have dated him?”
“Hey, we’ve all been with crazies. It’s not your fault. Nothing you’ve done gave him the right to threaten you. Absolutely nothing.”
Raylan forced her to look up, and the tears she’d been fighting escaped down her cheeks. “I feel so dirty.”
Another tear and then another fell, and her shaky resolve to hold it together until she got into the shower dissolved. She buried her face against his chest. “How can I go back to that place? How can I sleep in my bed? Knowing that he did that.”
“Shhh, mon cher. I’m not going to send you back there alone, and not until he’s in jail.”
Jail or not, her sense of safety would never be the same.
Raylan reached past her, turned on the shower, and then turned her to face him once more. “Enough about him. Let me take care of you tonight. Lift your arms.”
Amber complied, unable to do more than exist in a state of anxiety and horror. Her adrenaline overdose from the night came crashing down and bottomed out in her toes, seeping into the bathroom tiles, leaving her boneless and weary. Raylan lifted her dress overhead and took her panties with clinical distance. He handed her into the shower. The hot water hit her shoulders, and her eyes slid shut at the heavenly sensation. The shower curtain clanked, and Amber opened her eyes to see Raylan standing in front of her, steam curling his hair.
Her drop dead gorgeous Cajun.
“Tilt your head back.” His deep accent slid like sweet molasses over her skin, soothing some of the tension from her shoulders.
Amber leaned back fully beneath the spray of water, letting it wash over her body. After a few minutes, Raylan changed places with her and opened a bottle of shampoo. His fresh earthy scent filled the bathroom.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to grab your shampoo.”
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