by Dawn Brown
“Kyle wanted to speak to him.”
“Right.” Miller flipped back through his notebook as though he had to look something up, but it was all for show. The man no doubt had committed every detail to memory. Still, his brow furrowed and he asked without looking up from his handwritten notes, “How did Mr. Peirs know him?”
“Mel Barber took him to the hospital the night of his attack.”
Miller nodded, fake smile stretching. “You and Peirs have become quite friendly.”
Innuendo dripped from his tone, and Eleri bristled, jaw tightening.
“No answer?” Miller prompted.
“Did you ask a question?”
Whatever Miller and Harding had cooked up by having the younger detective question her alone had been a miss. The man didn’t intimidate her like Harding did, and his smarmy charm had no effect on her either.
He chuckled and shrugged. “What’s your relationship with Mr. Peirs?”
For a moment, images of his hands running over her body filled her head. Her face heated. “We have a mutual interest.”
“I see.” His brow furrowed. “He’s writing a book about the murders, and he’s written some rather unflattering articles about you in the past.”
She stared blandly.
“Right. No question.” He shook his head. “Why would you associate with a man who’s printed such terrible things about you?”
“We both want the same thing, to find out who killed those men.”
“Isn’t that a job for the police?” Miller asked.
“Another thing Mr. Peirs and I have in common is a belief that there’s a bias in the policing here.”
His smile didn’t falter. “Did Mr. Peirs believe Barber could tell him who killed those men?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He wanted to speak to Barber. He didn’t tell me why.”
Miller opened his mouth as if to ask her something else, but the door clunked open and he turned in his seat. Harding strolled in, his gaze falling on Miller, and a flash of confusion tightened his features before his mouth curled in a smug grin. The whole thing happened so quickly, she wasn’t sure she’d seen it at all.
“Eleri, Eleri, Eleri.” Harding dropped into the chair next to his partner. “I suppose I should be surprised to find you in the vicinity of another dead man, but I’m not.”
Irritation from dealing with Miller vanished and cold settled in its place. She curled her fingers around the edge of the seat.
“Where were you three nights ago?”
* * *
“I’ll make us something to eat, yeah?” Kyle said, pushing open Morehead’s front door and switching on the light. “I don’t know about you, but I’m bloody starved.”
Eleri followed him inside and shook her head. “I’m all right.”
She should be hungry. The sun had dropped behind the tree line by the time they’d left the police station. But the slick knots twisting her stomach and the exhaustion wrapped around her like a fist killed any appetite she might have had.
Kyle frowned, concern etched in his features. “You should eat something.”
Her throat squeezed, a hot tickle burning behind her nose. His face held the same expression now as when she’d seen him waiting for her in the police station lobby.
She’d wanted to tell him to run, to get as far away from her as possible. Before he wound up hanging in some ancient barn, or throat cut at the bottom of The Devil’s Eye.
How could she have been so stupid to believe she could escape her fate? It was inevitable, swallowing her like a wave, pulling her into deeper water until she finally gave up and drowned.
It wasn’t right to drag Kyle down with her. “You should leave in the morning.”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
She squared her shoulders. “You should go tomorrow, first thing.”
“That’s what I thought you said,” he muttered, nodding slowly. He strolled into the lounge, switched on a lamp and dropped onto the settee, pinning her with cool jade eyes. “And why is that?”
She leaned against the door frame, arms folded over her chest. “People are dying, and it’s very likely you’ll be next.”
“People have been dying here for a quarter of a century. I’ve had a target on my back for two years. What’s changed?”
Of all the reactions Eleri had considered—grudging acceptance to angry denials—she hadn’t expected the cool fury glinting in his eyes, tightening his quiet voice. “You know what’s changed.”
“We had an agreement. Find the people who tried to kill me so I can stop looking over my shoulder and you can clear your name. We haven’t found them, so why should I leave?”
“I’m never going to clear my name.” The words burst from her lips with all the fear and frustration swirling inside her. “I’m never going to escape this place. We need to be realistic.”
“Realistic?” Kyle stood and closed the distance between them. “Here’s reality for you. Harding’s spent years focusing his investigation on the wrong person, while the real killer’s carried on murdering people under his nose. He doesn’t have anything on you. If he did, he wouldn’t have let you leave tonight. “
His fingers gripped her upper arms pulling her closer, until his face was inches from hers. Energy hummed between them, shivering over her skin. She swallowed hard. “So he’s more determined than ever to see I take the blame.”
“He’s got nothing.” Kyle’s voice dropped, barely more than a rough whisper, his gaze fixed on her mouth.
Heat from his body seeped through her clothes, warming her all over. Something low inside of her pulled tight. She wanted him, mouth on hers, hands on her flesh, letting her forget.
She gave herself a mental shake. She needed him to go, needed him safe.
Instead, she pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his. Kyle pulled her against him, crushing her breasts to his chest while his lips fed from hers, hungry, frantic. Every nerve lit inside her. Every rational thought and good intention swept away in a torrent of need.
Eleri’s head spun, a frantic hunger clawing inside her, desperate for release.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, arching into his hard, lean frame. His hand gripped her backside, squeezing, pressing her belly against the bulge straining against his jeans.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he ground out in a harsh whisper. The skin below her ear tingled.
She should argue. She wanted him safe.
His teeth tugged at her earlobe, and he yanked open the fly on her trousers. Her pants whispered down her legs and pooled at her feet. Kyle slid his hand into her underwear, his finger slipping between her folds, teasing the steady ache throbbing within. She whimpered, arching against his hand, silently pleading for him to fill her, offer some relief to the aching need. Instead, he stroked and teased until she thought she’d go out of her head.
She wanted to feel him against her, flesh to flesh. With greedy hands, she struggled to unfasten the line of buttons on his shirt, but her trembling fingers made her clumsy and slow. The hell with it. She yanked open his shirt. Tiny buttons flew in all directions.
A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat, but he didn’t break the kiss. His mouth drew frantically on hers, and his finger pushed inside her. She gasped, legs weakening, and grabbed his broad shoulders.
His hand moved back and forth. Trills of white, hot need soared through her. She dug her fingers tighter into his muscle, her trembling legs on the brink of giving out altogether. He thrust a second finger, stretching her, filling her.
She was lost, floating in a mist of sensation. Teeth scraped the column of her throat. Fingers pushed deep and slow. The heel of his hand worked her clitoris in tight circles. The ache swelling inside her pulled, strained, pushing her to the edge.
Her orgasm slammed into her like a brick wall. Her legs gave out, Kyle’s hand at her back all that kept her from melting to the floor.
As the last of her aftershoc
ks rippled through her, he eased back and released her. By some miracle the soft muscles in her legs managed to hold her upright.
He’d turned her into a quivering mass of sensation. She wanted to do the same for him, but didn’t have a clue where to start.
He shrugged off his shirt, shimmied out of his jeans and underwear, but when he started to toward her, she backed up a step, lifted her hand palm out and stopped him in his tracks. “Wait. I wasn’t entirely honest with you last night.”
His brows lifted. “Oh?”
“When you asked if I’d been with anyone else, I had, but there was only one and it was…he was a long time ago.”
Kyle nodded slowly, frown tightening his features. “All right.”
“It’s just…I just…” Her face burned. She must look ridiculous in her sweater and panties, stammering like a fool. “I want you to like what I do.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head.
She glared. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“Believe me, I’m not. I like what you do.”
“I don’t really do anything.”
“No?” He gripped the hem of her sweater and pulled the rough wool over her head. Her heart stuttered in her chest. His light eyes moved over her near naked body hungrily and her skin heated beneath the scrutiny.
She looked away. Big mistake. Her gaze fastened on his erection, standing thick and long from the thatch of brown hair. A dull throb gripped low inside her.
“When you look at me like that,” the low rasp of his voice murmured, sending a wave of delicious shivers scurrying over her skin, “all I can think about it is getting inside you.”
She swallowed hard, her lower belly clenching. Christ, when he said things like that, it was all she could think about, too.
She met his gaze, eyes bright, predatory. Wet heat surged between her legs. Almost without thought, she reached out and trailed her fingers over the flat planes of his chest. His flesh was hot and hard beneath her touch. Her thumb skimmed his small, tight nipple and he let out a soft hiss between his teeth. Her gaze jumped to his and she jerked her hand back.
He leaned closer, his cheek brushing hers. “Don’t stop.”
She shivered. A low thrum pulsed at her core.
Swallowing hard, she glided her fingers down his chest, the rigid contours of his belly. Muscle bunched beneath her touch. His breath quickened.
Her fingers trailed lower, tracing the length of his erection. He groaned softly and a thrill shot through her. She’d done this. She’d made him hard, made him want. Feminine power welled inside her, awakening a part of her she’d never known existed let alone explored.
She lifted her gaze to his. Smoky green eyes held hers, his jaw rigid, as she wrapped her hand around his length, finger closing around hot, velvet-covered steel.
“Fuck.” The word tore from his lips, feeding the primal power beating inside her.
She stroked up and down his shaft. His hand closed tight around hers, guiding her, helping her find her rhythm. Her heavy breasts tingled. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the sight of their joined hands locked around him, stroking him. His hips jerked and he groaned low in his throat before his mouth closed over hers, tongue sweeping past her parted lips. Heat simmered in her blood, burned under her skin.
She wanted him inside her, filling her as he had the night before, but she wanted to touch, explore, revel in the physical intimacy she’d never experienced before—or likely would again.
“I’m too close.” He tore his mouth from hers and released her hand. “We have to stop.”
She looked down at her own hand still loosely gripping his shaft and the clear bead of moisture seeping from the tip of his penis. The pulse between her legs throbbed harder. She’d brought him here, to the brink. She dragged her thumb through the moisture, massaging into his head.
His breath sucked in and his member jerked in her hand.
She wanted to push him further, make him as desperate and needy as she’d been. She dropped to her knees, tentatively traced the tip of her tongue around the ridge circling his head.
Spicy musk from his skin drifted to her nose, his salty tang on her tongue. He flooded her senses until he filled every dark corner of her being.
Doubt flickered in her chest. She’d never done this, had no idea what she was doing. What if she looked like a twit on her knees in front of him? She risked a glance up. Kyle stared, expression inscrutable, eyes so bright they nearly glowed against his skin.
“I’ve never done this before,” she admitted.
“You—” his throat bobbed up and down. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
She blinked. “I want to. I just want you to like it.”
He snorted. “You’re doing a fine job so far.”
With a curt nod, she leaned forward and sucked him into her mouth.
Chapter Fifteen
Every muscle in Kyle’s body tensed and turned to mush simultaneously. He tunneled his fingers through Eleri’s hair, locked his knees and squeezed his eyes closed. The sight of her lips around his cock, her cheeks hollowing as erotic as the wet, rhythmic pull of her mouth on his flesh.
Her hand fisted around his shaft, followed the wet trail left by her hungry mouth, pumping his cock into the warm sucking heat. His dick jerked, balls pulling tight. He should stop this—he didn’t want to come in her mouth on her first time—but he couldn’t bring himself to end the exquisite torture.
He couldn’t remember it ever feeling this good. His senses were alive with Eleri. The cool soft strands of her hair threaded through his fingers. A faint scent of lavender drifted from her skin. Tiny mewling whimpers escaped her mouth—that clever little mouth.
His cock jerked harder this time. He hovered on the brink of explosion.
“We have to stop,” he told her, voice barely more than a dry growl. He pulled back from her mouth and she looked up at him, faint frown marring her features. “I’m going to come, otherwise.”
Her gaze held his. “I don’t mind.”
With those three little words, he nearly plunged between her lips once more. Instead, he swallowed hard. “I want to come inside you.” With her inner muscles clenched around him, milking him empty.
He bent, snatched up his jeans and fished out the square, plastic packet from his pocket.
“Do you always have one of those with you?” Eleri asked, wry smile curling her lips
He shook his head and grinned. “No, but after last night I was hoping.”
“Me too.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, sexy and playful. This was who she really was beneath the wariness normally tightening her features, who she would have been without The Devil’s Eye.
He sat back on the settee, smoothed the rubber over his cock, then took her hand and pulled her closer until she straddled his lap. He wanted her like this, so he could keep touching her, tasting her, drawing out those sexy whimpers while she rode him.
He tangled his fingers in her hair, drew her down to meet his kiss. His mouth moved against hers, urgent, hungry. Her tongue slipped alongside his, hips undulating, wet heat pressed against his aching cock. He needed to get inside her.
Gripping her hips, he guided her into position. She lowered herself exquisitely slow, taking him inside her, wrapping him tight and slick. He moaned, leaned back and watched her begin to move.
She took him with slow, deep pulls that drove him half out of his mind. Her eyes closed, lips parted, breasts bouncing teasingly close to his mouth. He leaned forward, caught one tight nipple between his lips and sucked.
She gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, her pace faltering slightly, but she found her rhythm again—even while he sucked and nipped at one breast then moved to the other.
Her breath came faster, ragged. Her body trembled on the brink. He slid his thumb between her folds, found her nub and stroked. She cried out, tightening around his cock. He couldn’t hold back any longer. Grasping her hips, he drove himself hard and fa
st, until he exploded, emptying himself inside her.
Once spent, he sank back into the cushion. Eleri collapsed against his chest. He held her tight, her ragged breath mingling with his while he stroked the delicate curve of her back.
“You know,” she said, sitting up with a wry smile. “I was trying to persuade you to leave tomorrow. I don’t think I was very convincing.”
He smirked, his heavy eyes at half-mast. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her delicate brows drew together and she smoothed her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, all traces of humor vanishing. She trailed a finger along his scar. The nerves beneath were so damaged he could feel little more than faint pressure, but still he stiffened.
Eleri pulled her hand back. “Does it hurt?”
He shook his head. “Feels strange, though.”
Her fathomless gaze dropped to his neck. “The whole time we were at Barber’s, all I could think about was how far the farm was from The Devil’s Eye. How easily you could have died.” She dipped her head, mouth pressing warm and soft to his throat. “You should get away from here while you can.”
He shivered and wrapped his arms tighter around her. “I’m not leaving you.”
* * *
A relentless banging dragged Eleri up through layers of sleep. Whatever that noise was, she wished it would stop. She wasn’t quite awake yet, teetering between consciousness and oblivion. With Kyle’s bare chest pressed to her back, his arm draped around her waist, it would be so easy to drift off into the warm cocoon wrapped around her.
If only that knocking would stop.
Eleri frowned. Someone was knocking at the door. A chill blew through her, and she sat up rubbing her stinging eyes. Kyle’s arm fell away and he murmured something unintelligible, but didn’t open his eyes.
She grasped his shoulder and shook him. “Wake up. Someone’s at the door.”
It had to be Harding. Kyle’s theory that the detective didn’t have the evidence to arrest her was wrong—Mel Barber’s murder was the final nail in her coffin.
Kyle jerked upright, eyes heavy-lidded. “What is it? What’s wrong?”