And his sister got it on camera. Lucky him—and her.
When she came out, she still wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Hey,” I whispered. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m ashamed. What do you think?” She folded her arms over her waist. “I mean, come on. My brother’s a murderer, and I lied about it. I’ve been lying to you and I’ve hated every minute of it, by the way. I’ve been hating myself. Even…” She jerked her thumb toward the bedroom door. “I hated myself then, too, because it felt like I wasn’t honest with you. It wasn’t totally real because I wasn’t being real.”
Funny thing, her mentioning that, because I was thinking the same thing. “What can we do about that?”
“Come on.” She held her hand out to me. “I want to try again, if you do.”
Did I? She was right. I wanted to do it while we were being honest, totally honest. There was nothing standing between us anymore. Besides, a gorgeous woman was asking me to sleep with her. I would be insane to say no.
Once we were beside the bed, she pulled the t-shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. I took her in, all of her, all the beauty that had been just out of my reach for a week. Her body was even better than anything I had fantasized—tight, taut, but full and lush in all the right places. I felt like a kid in a candy store, and I didn’t know which part of her I should attack first.
“Touch me, please,” she begged. I could feel the need coming from her in waves—not just physical craving, but something stronger than that. She needed that connection again. She had to know it was all right between us.
So I reached for her, just like she wanted me to, and the sweet sigh that escaped her open mouth as I made contact with her skin was almost too much for me to take. I groaned as blood surged into my dick, making it stand up stiff in no time. My hands tightened around her hips, and I ground against her as I descended on her throat. Her pulse beat wildly under my lips, and I she groaned when my tongue swept in circles over the soft, sensitive skin.
“Oh, Brett,” she breathed again and again. She gripped the back of my neck like a vice, throwing her head back and running her fingers through my hair. She pulled a little, and my cock twitched in response.
My hands had a mind of their own. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of her panties and eased hem over the curve of her ass, then dragged my fingertips over her softness. She whimpered, shaking, as I drove her crazy with just the slightest touch. “Yes, yes,” she whispered, frantic. “Yes, touch me, yes. It’s so good, baby.” Her nails ran over my scalp, down the back of my neck, across my shoulders. My entire body was in a frenzy of sensation, just like hers was.
I lowered her to the bed and stretched out on top of her. The jeans hid my erection, but I rubbed it against her thigh as we kissed. There was so much desperation in her, and it came out in the way she crushed her lips to mine. I pulled back enough to whisper, “Relax. Take your time.”
“I can’t,” she whispered back, and her hips rocked under me. “I can’t. I’m so close…”
I reached down between us and dipped my fingers into her cleft. She arched against me, crying out sharply when I made contact with her clit. “So wet,” I groaned as I stroked her closer and closer to climax. Her head rolled back and forth as a stream of moans filled the air. She was helpless to control what I was doing to her, and she knew it. I didn’t think she minded much.
“Yes!” she screamed, doing stiff for a second before relaxing into the bed. I kissed her throat, her chest, and felt her arms circle me as her body trembled.
Then, she surprised me. One hand pressed against my shoulder while her hips bucked. I rolled over with a surprised laugh that she cut off with her mouth. Our tongues danced as I feasted my hands on her body. She started grinding against my painfully hard cock, and my eyes nearly rolled back in my head. I had to find relief, and fast. But there was so much to explore, to taste and touch. I didn’t want it to end.
She broke our kiss and sat up, then ran her hands over my chest and abs. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered shyly.
“Beautiful?”
“Yes, beautiful. Perfect.” She leaned down to plant a kiss between my pecs. Then another one, just a little lower down. I groaned and ran my hands through her hair as she worked her way down to the waistband of my jeans. All I could do waswatch as she unbuttoned the waistband and lowered the zipper. I lifted my hips so she could slide the denim over my hips.
“That’s good,” I whispered when she closed her hand around me. “Oh, that’s so good.” She looked pleased with herself.
“I want you in my mouth,” she whispered, and I twitched in response. She smiled before dragging her tongue from the base to tip before taking me into her mouth.
“Oh, fuck!” I groaned, holding her head in my hands. It was bliss. I sank into the pleasure her warm, wet mouth gave as she bobbed up and down. She knew just what to do, and it seemed like she liked doing it. I couldn’t believe she actually liked it.Every time she reached the top of the shaft, she flicked the underside of the head with her tongue. I clenched my teeth and willed myself not to come. Not yet.
Still, I could only take so much before losing control. “I can’t handle much more of that,” I groaned. I hated to put an end to it, but there was still more to enjoy.As soon as she was up, it was my turn to roll her over. I pinned her to the bed, wrists above her head, and kissed her deeply in thanks for what she just did. Then, I took both wrists in one hand while the other sank back into her wet folds, while my mouth latched onto one hard, pink nipple.
“Oh, Brett…yes, please…yes...” I sucked hard, flicking with my tongue as two fingers slipped inside her. She cried out, lifting her hips, jerking them upward to meet my thrusts. She rode my hand while I sucked her tits and it all became too much for her again—she tightened around my fingers until I almost couldn’t move them anymore. She jerked her hips once, twice more before her body went stiff and she called my name into the darkness.
“That’s right,” I whispered as I kissed her—the swells of her tits, her stomach, her hips. “Don’t ever hold it in with me. Let it all out. I want to hear how good you feel.”
“You don’t mind?” she whispered. She ran her fingers through my hair, gasping when I swirled my tongue around the inside of her navel.
“The louder, the better. I want to know how good I make you feel, and if you want more, I want to know that, too.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She chuckled as I searched for another condom in the bedside table. When I was ready, she held her arms out to me.
I lowered myself over her, between her open thighs, positioning myself at her entrance. The heat, so close to my cock, was almost too much to handle. I sank into her again and she gasped, tightening her legs around me. She was still pulsing and twitching from the last orgasm, and I had to wait until she loosened a little. Then I withdrew a little, and she whimpered as I made her wait for the next thrust. It was almost too easy, driving her crazy. Making her want me as much as I wanted her. She pulled me in, legs against my ass, searching for more.
I leaned down to kiss her on the next thrust, then bit her bottom lip until she hissed. The hiss turned into a moan as I swept over the inside of her mouth. I took my time, moving slowly, steadily into her sweetness. I ran a hand down the length of her body and felt her writhing underneath me, working the way I was, giving me the pleasure I was giving her.
It wasn’t long, though, before I couldn’t keep up that sweet, slow pace. I rode faster, using short, teasing strokes that drove her wild. She dug her nails into my back and cried out until she was hoarse—begging for more, pleading. “Fuck me!” she gasped, then grunted as I slammed deep into her core. I could hardly breathe, couldn’t think straight. All I could do was feel and hear her grunts of pleasure as I drove her closer to another orgasm. Her body went wild under me, bucking and writhing and slick with sweat.
She let out a harsh, guttural cry and dragged her nails down my back until it hurt. I felt her bod
y tighten, the muscles of her sheath squeezing, then pulsing in rhythmic waves. I had to pull out before she took me with her—any tighter and I would’ve lost control. I waited until she was calmer, watching as she came down. She was beautiful—hair like a dark splash across the pillow, mouth open as she struggled to breathe, skin glistening. When she opened her eyes and smiled, something tightened in my chest.
I stretched out on my back. “Can you handle more? Because I want to watch you.”
She only smiled and pushed herself up on her elbows, then on her knees. It was a slow process, and I finally realized she was teasing me by making me wait for her. But I couldn’t wait, not any longer. I had to be back inside her.
I positioned myself again once she straddled me, then watched as she slid slowly down my length. Her muscles were still pulsing in a slow rhythm, and I groaned. It was almost too good. Better than it had ever felt, ever in my life. It had to be the combination of what we were going through together and how I had been wanting her for days. Not to mention the way she obviously loved what we were doing. There was nothing like having a partner who was really into what was happening.
She closed her eyes, hands on my chest, and took a deep breath. Her hips started rocking back and forth, slowly, and her face screwed up in concentration as she found her rhythm. She moved a little, circling her hips, finding the right angle and depth. Watching her was so fascinating, I almost forgot how good it felt. Almost.
Once she hit on what she wanted, she started moving with more determination. I watched her tits move in time with her thrusts, faster the faster she went. I took them in my hands and strained upward, licking at them while she rode my cock.
“That’s so good,” she whimpered, hips rising and falling harder and faster. She sat up then, her body writhing, undulating. I looked down between us and watched myself disappear into her again and again. Pleasure contorted her face as she rode harder, thrusting frantically by then. I gripped her hips and guided her, thrusting up in time with her downward strokes. We slammed together, a wet slapping sound mingling with our grunts.
She fell forward, hands on the pillow, her tits right in front of my face. I played with them again, devouring her, listening to the way she cried out for more, more. She tightened again, and her cries turned into one long, loud scream.
“Yes! Brett!” She threw her head back as she came with a shuddery jolt.
It was time. I gripped her hips even tighter and started pumping into her like a jackhammer, faster and faster, giving myself permission to finally come. She held herself up on shaking arms and moaned softly in the middle of coming down again.
“Yes…come for me…” she whimpered in my ear.Release swept through me, and I groaned as my balls emptied.She lifted herself off and fell to my side, still letting out soft little gasps as she tried to catch her breath.
“That was even better,” she whispered.
“It was.” My eyes were closed as I drifted down from my high.
“Thank you.” She touched my cheek, and I kissed her palm as she dragged it across my mouth and chin. “Thank you.”
It was so good with her. So much better than ever, with anybody. I couldn’t put my finger on why, and it scared me to know how much I still wanted her, how I already wanted her again even when I had just come seconds before that. When she moved closer to me, I lifted my arm to give her room to curl up with her head on my chest. Finally, we both got the chance to sleep.
Chapter Fifteen – Molly
Ricardo’s eyes bored holes into me over the rim of his mug. Steam curled around his handsome face, contrasting with his tanned skim. Well, it might have been tanned when he wasn’t so overworked. He looked a little green. I wondered if he was feeling well. Was it my fault?
He waited until he swallowed a sip of his coffee, then spoke in a measured tone. “So you switched out the memory card and smashed up the camera?”
I nodded. Did he know he had the ability to ask a single question and make the person he questioned feel about five years old? I remembered that note on my dad’s car all over again. Once the fury had burned out—and he never did beat me with that belt, either—he’d sat on the edge of my bed and explained what I had done. It was going to cost a certain amount of money to get the car painted. Meanwhile, he couldn’t drive it with I have the best daddy in the world written on the side, so my mom would have to drop him off at work and pick him up again. This meant she would have to take me and my brother with her and Michael would have to miss basketball practice. We wouldn’t be able to take the vacation we wanted to that year because we wouldn’t have the money in the bank when Dad’s vacation time came around. Oh, he sounded so disappointed in me. It was enough to make me wish, even in my little six-year-old brain, that he would hit me with the belt already. I couldn’t handled the physical pain easier than the emotional pain he was putting me through.
“Did you really think we wouldn’t be able to extract the photos on the card?”
I shrugged. “To be honest, I didn’t give it much thought. I was panicking.”
“Because you wanted to protect your brother.” He almost spat the words out, like they were disgusting to him, like they nauseated him. Michael probably did nauseate him, and so did I for trying to cover up for him.
“Do you have any siblings, Detective?”
He nodded. “Two sisters.”
“Younger? Older?”
“Younger.”
“Did you protect them when you were kids?”
He nodded again. “Of course. When we weren’t fighting.”
I smiled a little. “Yeah. Imagine having a big brother. It could be worse. But he always protected me, too. Nobody messed with me when they knew who my brother was. The bullies in the schoolyard practically quaked with fear.”
“I’m touched,” Ricardo sneered.
“I’m just trying to help you understand why I did it. I was completely shocked, horrified, stunned. I didn’t know my brother was capable of something like that. Yes,” I added when he opened his mouth to protest, “I knew he was doing something bad, something he didn’t want to tell us about. And no, none of us wanted to think about it. Nobody wanted to imagine what he might have been doing when he went out with those so-called friends. Would you want to? If you loved the person in question? What if it was one of your sisters doing something you couldn’t stomach?”
Something in his expression shifted ever so slightly. It was around his eyes, I thought. They widened a little. “One of my sisters did,” he murmured with a face like granite. “She got involved with a gang member.”
“And you hated it.”
“Of course, I did. I was the only one in my family who went to college. It was my sophomore year, so she was around sixteen. Thought she was in love. Nothing I said could convince her to leave him—maybe she was too afraid to in the end,” he mused. In the end. I didn’t dare ask what happened to her. I didn’t need to.
“Do you understand how I feel? Maybe just a little bit?”
He hesitated before nodding, just once. I struggled to hold back my tears—for him and me. I had done enough crying, anyway.
“You realize this doesn’t change the fact that we need to pursue him?” He leaned forward from his seat on the couch and placed the empty mug on the coffee table. He wouldn’t look me in the eye—I wondered how much pain I had just caused him and was sorry if I had, but glad if it meant he wouldn’t hold my lies against me—not too much, anyway. I didn’t expect him to forgive and forget.
“I understand that. There’s nothing I can do for him now.”
“Can I ask what’s changed?”
“What do you think?” I asked with a sad smile.
“Last night.”
“Right. Before then, I could pretend he would keep me safe the way I was keeping him safe by lying for him.”
“You’ve had no contact with him since the night of the murder?”
I shook my head so hard, my ponytail swung back and forth. “No wa
y. Not a word.”
“Maybe it was him trying to get in, then. Maybe he wanted to know what you’ve told the police, if anything.”
“That’s possible—maybe even probable,” I admitted. “But would you want to stick around and find out?”
“What I meant was, it didn’t mean he wanted to hurt you.”
I could only frown. “But it didn’t mean he didn’t. Besides, we don’t know for sure who it was. Do we?”
He shook his head. “You think he’s changed so much that he would try to hurt you?”
I searched my heart over the question, just as I had been since the moment that gun went off. Would he ever try to hurt me? “A week ago, if you had told me my brother would pull a gun on an unarmed man—somebody who was begging for their life, blubbering like a baby, I would’ve called you insane. My brother?” I shook my head. “Even when I knew he was with the wrong people, I would’ve said you were nuts for even thinking it. You don’t know him. All that jazz.”
There was a blanket thrown over one arm of the couch, the side closest to where I sat with my feet pulled up beneath me, and I wrapped it around myself. It felt cold in there, all of a sudden. “But now? After having seen what he’s capable of? I wish I could still say you were crazy, but that wouldn’t be the truth. Because I just don’t know anymore. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
“I’ve worked on a lot of cases involving the DeMarco family,” Ricardo explained. “And I can tell you the way they think. They’re completely insular.”
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