Marie, Laura - Victoria [Cop's Daughter 1] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

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Marie, Laura - Victoria [Cop's Daughter 1] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 13

by Laura Marie


  “Do you think the killer has Chappa, the one you’re looking for?”

  “It’s a good possibility. I’ll let you know as soon as we hear something.”

  “So I guess I’ll just sit back and let my family hate me a little longer.”

  “Everything is going to be all right. You’ve done a great job.” Warren then hung up the phone.

  Victoria put the phone down and sighed. The thought of a killer loose in River Point made her scared to be alone. She had seen the pictures from Linda’s crime scene. She knew what the killer was capable of.

  She reached for the tea kettle, realizing she never turned on the stove. Feeling the overwhelming urge to cry, she bowed her head. Suddenly, she heard the floor creak behind her. There was movement in the living room. Stunned, she watched the figure move closer.

  Victoria reached back to the wooden knife block and grabbed the largest one. Her heart pounded. She was instantly scared as thoughts of an unknown killer entered her mind.

  As the figure paused in the doorway, the light illuminated his face. She was shocked to see Steven standing before her. She froze as he closed the space between them and now stood a few feet in front of her. All she could do was stare at him.

  The determined look in his eyes had her feet glued to the floor. He was dressed all in black, her heart fluttered in her chest, and the tears stung her eyes. It was quite the sight.

  Moving closer, closing the distance between them, he held her gaze intently. Her mouth malfunctioned, her voice disappeared as her jaw practically touched her chest.

  She felt his solid hand gently take her wrist. She had forgotten about the knife the second she saw Steven’s face. Closing her mouth, licking her quivering lips, she remained speechless.

  “What are you planning to do with that?” His deep, raspy voice sent waves of goose bumps over her flesh.

  She looked up at him hoping to maintain her composure. “What are you doing here? How did you…?” She didn’t finish her sentence. Victoria knew he was a Marine, a trained killer, more than capable of a sneak attack, but it had been so long since he had pulled such a trick on her.

  Steven took the knife from her hand and placed it back in the knife block.

  He still held her wrist with the other hand, keeping her in front of him as he moved closer. His hips were inches from her ribs.

  The fact he was dressed all in black as if he were on some secret mission intimidated her. He was in Marine mode. It was obvious…Confusing emotions flooded her heart.

  Victoria shook and she couldn’t speak.

  His deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

  He held her gaze.

  “You know something, sweetheart. I’ve been watching your place for the last week. I’ve even followed you to and from work. What I found interesting is that I wasn’t the only one. You’re under surveillance, but you know that already, don’t you?”

  Victoria didn’t respond verbally. Instead, she clenched her fingers into fists and tried to look away from Steven.

  His warm breath brushed against her neck.

  “They’re still no match for me, though.” He smiled, placing his hands on the counter behind Victoria, blocking her from moving. Victoria knew he’d heard the whole one-sided phone conversation.

  Chin pointed up toward Steven’s face, she attempted to maintain the façade.

  “I still don’t know why you’re here.” She cringed at the stern facial response to her statement. He was tough, and damn it she felt as timid and spineless as a noodle.

  He held her gaze and was silent a moment before he answered, “Because you need me…as much as I need you.” He took a few long breaths, then continued, “Don’t waste your breath telling me lies.” His intense stare called out for her challenge. Although she was certain any response would be worthless, she had to try and salvage what she could.

  “Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to break into my home? We’re not an item anymore, Steven.” She tried to act tough, but he smelled so good and she could already feel him embracing her, yet their bodies were hardly even touching.

  She attempted to push past him. Steven placed his hand on her ribcage, and Victoria jumped backwards, her body shaking as the tears welled up in her eyes. She was eye level with Steven’s chest.

  Steven didn’t budge. He was determined and she knew she was in trouble.

  The moment was so intense, and she was completely out of control.

  “We’ll discuss the situation you’re in later. Right now, there’s something more important we need to take care of.”

  Instantly, Steven’s hand touched her face. His other arm wrapped around her waist as he pressed his body against hers. He cradled Victoria’s head, altering any attempts of escape, then kissed her.

  She lightly tilted her head back to protest, but the move backfired on her, and she melted into Steven’s arms.

  His lips felt amazing, perfect, strong, and inviting, just as she remembered them to be. No man had ever given her the same feelings or emotions in his kiss alone. Her body tingled and felt as if it throbbed against his muscle-bound physique. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the tips of her toes to meet his lips more fully and to feel him entirely encase her.

  Towering over her, she felt the same eagerness from him. The kisses became deeper as their tongues battled for an unreachable satisfaction. She wanted more. She had been denied such intoxicating pleasure from him too long. She missed him and it overwhelmed her.

  Steven pulled her away from the kitchen counter, grabbing a handful of her backside as he picked her up off her feet with his other arm. The feel of his possessive hand against her backside stirred the response in her body that it always had. Her panties were soaked, her belly tightened with arousal. She was so sexually aroused right now the need to have him inside her intensified.

  They stumbled through the darkness of the living room, stopping a moment in the hallway as he kissed and nibbled her neck, her shoulders, then back to her lips. Everything seemed to stand still. All she could think about, feel, and hear was Steven. The scent of his cologne, the feel of his hardened body, and the knowledge that he possessed her, had a hold of her entirely and always would. The room was silent except for their rapid breathing, their need to be one.

  “I’ve missed you so much. I never stopped thinking about you, Tory—never!” he exclaimed.

  Her voice was still MIA. She was out of breath in a dream. He could lead her anywhere. He always could. Their time apart hadn’t changed that one bit.

  * * * *

  Steven smiled as he nibbled and kissed Victoria’s neck, collarbone, then cleavage. The need to taste her skin, her scent, ruled his every carnal action. His gut was right, she still loved him. She would always be his.

  Steven held her close, kissing her neck, nibbling, biting. “Damn it, you taste so good, I could devour you,” he told her breathlessly as he pinned her against the lavender-painted, sheetrock wall, kissing her and pulling her right thigh up against his leg. He pushed her dress up, allowing his hand to caress her toned upper thigh, and twirled his fingers around the tiny, thin strap of the soft, lacy material resting there.

  He wanted her so badly, his body ached. His head spun, and he had thought about this moment for so long. He didn’t want to rush it, but he was losing control.

  Growling erotically in her ear, “I want to look at you,” he took her hand, leading her toward the bedroom.

  “Steven, wait…I…what if someone had seen you?” Out of breath, she hesitated.

  He smirked confidently then pulled her against his chest abruptly while holding her close. It was sexy and macho.

  “Not a chance in hell, baby.”

  She smiled. His words, his cocky Marine attitude caused a hunger like no other to fill her body. He led her by the hand, stopping by the bedside table to turn on the light.

  They were instantly surrounded by a gentle glow, and Steven smiled down at Victoria.

&nbs
p; He turned her around so she faced the bed as he spoke slowly, warmly against her ear, emphasizing each word and the depth of its meaning while he undid the zipper of her dress.

  “You belong to me…You’re mine, Victoria…all mine…always and forever.”

  * * * *

  Victoria’s heart pounded as she closed her eyes. The anticipation of making love to Steven aroused her senses.

  Rapidly, her dress fell to the floor and he pulled her against him. Victoria gasped for air. He’s really here, he’s alive and holding me. She laid her head back against Steven’s chest.

  His arms embraced her tiny waist. He couldn’t stop touching her. He had waited so long…too long.

  The instant Steven’s hand cupped her breast, she reached her hands back behind her trying to grab at him, touch him, let him know she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

  Steven turned her back toward him, putting a little distance between them as he took in the view.

  “You’re even sexier than I remembered. More amazing than any dream, any fantasy I conjured up.”

  He reached out and trailed a finger softly over her skin, starting from her neck, trailing over her shoulder then across her breast, taking his time to linger there before continuing a path over her taut belly muscles.

  A soft moan escaped her mouth as she absorbed the feel of his touch and anticipated the direction his finger was headed for.

  Her heart beat so loud and so fast, she wondered if he could hear it. She stared up into his eyes. She didn’t feel shy or unsure. She never did when she was with Steven. Victoria knew he was the only man for her and she had never stopped loving him.

  Her nipples hardened, her breasts burned with need. She wanted his hands all over her, not this featherlight touch.

  “Tell me you want me. I want to hear you say the words,” he whispered as his hand met her hand. They held hands, fingers entwined.

  Victoria moved a step closer laying her forehead against the black shirt that covered Steven’s chest. She inhaled deeply, absorbing his unforgettable cologne, a smell she had missed immensely and could have sworn she actually smelled in her dreams.

  “I want you, Steven. I love you,” she whispered. Steven smiled, and his eyes twinkled when he lowered his head to scatter kisses across her neck then shoulder. Victoria’s head fell back in defeat, her body weak.

  Steven supported her, drawing her body closer against his. His mouth moved over hers, kissing every inch of her lips. He moaned as if they had a taste to them that he craved.

  Victoria fumbled with his shirt as she pulled it from Steven’s tight, black jeans. He stopped her from helping him pull it off.

  His thumb and finger gently rubbed her chin as he held her gaze with his own.

  “Don’t ask any questions right now, okay? I promise to explain it all later. Right now, all I want to do is make love to you.” He caressed her cheeks, then her hair before placing the palm of his hand against her cheek.

  His eyes took on a serious look but only for a moment, and she smiled in agreement wondering what he meant.

  As soon as he removed his shirt, she saw the three scars above his right breast. Bullet wounds. He had been shot three times in the chest and survived.

  “Steven!” She couldn’t help herself, despite what she just promised. She covered her mouth with her hands. Taking two steps back, she was scared, confused, and couldn’t help the tears.

  Steven took her hands, bringing them to his lips, kissing them softly, pulling her back against his chest. The scars were at eye level as she laid her face against them. “Later, Tory…Please.”

  She was suddenly so scared, she began to shake.

  He embraced her and held her tight. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around his waist, their love for one another expressed and shared in a hug. She cried and held him. Her tears wet his chest.

  “It’s okay, baby. I made it back to you. I never stopped fighting.”

  She kissed his neck, his shoulder, whatever her lips could reach and touch.

  He rubbed her body with his hands as she undid the button and zipper to his jeans. He removed them, then removed the light pink undergarments from her body and slowly brought her down onto the bed.

  “You’re so amazing, so beautiful…I never should have left you…Forgive me.”

  “I love you, Steven. Make love to me—now. I need you so badly, and I need for us to be one.”

  Steven kissed her softly on the lips, then down her throat and to her chest where he paused a moment as his mouth captured her breast. From there he feasted on each silky mound until she was numb. Pressing her hips firmly against Steven’s, pleading for him to be inside of her, she shook at his next move.

  Running his hands over her thigh, between her legs, she squirmed and panted in response to the contact. It had been so long, too long for them to have stayed apart. He continued to methodically arouse her. Victoria moaned softly showing him she was more than ready.

  Lifting his hips, then lowering his body, he entered her while simultaneously kissing her lips.

  They made love to one another. Victoria wrapped her arms around Steven’s neck, and with every thrust, their affection and love grew stronger, deeper as they penetrated each other’s hearts.

  She wanted to stay in his arms forever. Right now, only this moment mattered, and she would treasure it for the rest of her life.

  * * * *

  The killer drove to his home and reversed his car into the detached garage. He pressed the button for the automatic doors and they closed.

  His adrenaline pumped. He could feel the rush, the anxiety of knowing at any moment he could be caught. He thrived on the rush.

  The killer walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk.

  He pulled an unconscious Ronnie Chappa from the vehicle.

  It was hot out tonight, and the hotter temperatures inside the trunk had nearly suffocated Ronnie.

  The killer found this amusing as he prepared the body for his ritual. The look of relief on Ronnie’s face as he breathed the fresh air deeply into his lungs was quickly replaced by pure fear.

  The killer tied Ronnie down, and Ronnie tried to fight but lost the battle.

  The killer laughed as he heard the familiar gurgling sound. First it was loud, a deep choking sound, then lower and lower until finally…silence. He loved to watch his victims suffer and cling to any possible hope of being saved. He didn’t want to hear their worthless, meaningless pleas. No way! It deeply thrilled him to watch their bodies shake, their legs kick and struggle to be free. The dirt became his signature. It was a horrible way to die. He laughed again.

  He wiped the dirt off of his shoes, then poured one more cupful of dirt inside Ronnie Chappa’s mouth. The brown-and-black substance poured from the sides, overflowing onto the table—the killer’s worktable inside his own home. He used the dirt from his home garden to fill up the lungs and insides of his latest victim. He looked at Ronnie Chappa as if owning him, every part of him, especially his soul.

  The kid got stupid and thought more about making money, getting ahead the easy way instead of earning his shield. Chappa used his badge to get whatever he could for free, and a lot of the other cops knew that. He wasn’t the only one, and the police department wasn’t the only corrupt organization in this town.

  The killer prepared the body for its final resting place. He had the perfect location in mind and quickly got the body back into the trunk of the car.

  It was the middle of the night. The killer’s adrenaline flowed, and he easily removed the body from his vehicle, dragging it through the memorial garden.

  Not a patrol car in sight. The town was dead at this hour. There’d be no risk of being caught.

  There, in the center, a large statue of a uniformed officer stood. The town was so proud of their little police department

  The community supported them and earlier in the day had rallied together to remember a fallen officer. How quickly the media turned on the Ma
rdullo family. How stupid the Mardullo family was to not see it was a setup.

  Collins was responsible for the mess, and Danny Mardullo’s daughter was right in the middle. Collins was a fool and a greedy little bastard who would soon get his. The killer needed him alive still. He wanted to pin the murders on him, and everything was right on schedule. The only change was the Mardullo woman.

  He enjoyed watching her. She piqued his interest, which was difficult to do. She pretended to like Collins, and he wondered why. She could wind up helping him to pin the murders on Collins. Especially if she already thought he was involved. But how could she?

  He wondered about that as he positioned the body just right. He hoped a civilian would be the first to find Chappa’s body. What front-page news that would make!

  * * * *

  “It’s been too long, sweetheart, way too long,” Steven whispered to Victoria. He held her in his arms, their legs entwined as Victoria laid her head against his chest.

  The tears flowed from her eyes. She couldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t let go of him.

  Steven sat up, then moved onto his side to wipe away Victoria’s tears. She smiled at him, took his hand, and gently kissed each of his fingers.

  He smiled softly. She could see the tears in his eyes, the emotion he held back. He was her man, her Marine, and she had never stopped loving him.

  “Everything is going to be fine, honey. I promise you. I’ll never leave you again,” He pulled her leg in between his and they embraced.

  “There’s so much going on, Steven. There’s so much to tell you.”

  “I want you to tell me everything that’s going on, but first I need to know something.” He softly caressed her cheek, causing her to lock gazes with him.

  “How serious are you about Bret Collins?” His voice was tinged with anger and jealousy.

  “I’m not serious at all. You heard the conversation I was having earlier on the phone. I’ve been working with the county DA, an investigator, and the FBI. They think Bret may have played a role in my father’s murder.”

 

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