by Nadia Lee
“It…does, but…”
“Shhh. Don’t overthink it. Just enjoy it.” He licked the pulse on her neck. “Haven’t we done this before?”
She swallowed before shaking her head.
“If you don’t like it, tell me and I’ll stop.”
She moved again, thank god, and he kept his rhythm on her anus synced to hers over his cock. She whimpered, the sound thin with need.
A knot of pleasure tingled in his groin, and he gritted his teeth as he held himself back. Ginger’s pleasure came first.
He braced his feet on the floor and thrust into her harder, increasing the pressure and speed. She watched him, her darkened eyes on his. Her breasts bobbed, and she panted faster. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Come for me, Ginger,” he said.
She clenched her teeth, then threw her head back and screamed as he kept pumping into her. Her walls tightened and milked his cock, making him hiss as an electric sensation spread all over him. She looked like a goddess, her golden hair cascading around her, and her body glowing with pleasure.
Unable to wait anymore, he gripped her ass hard as he ground into her. “Mine,” he grated out, then let go and came inside her.
Her arms relaxed around him. The kiss she gave him was cotton candy sweet.
Content with the world, he kissed her back leisurely. Then sighed when the intercom buzzed.
Her belly growled on cue, and she pulled back with a giggle. “Lunch.”
He grazed her stomach with a finger. “Your wish is my command.”
* * *
Ginger munched on a slice of pizza as she looked around the penthouse. Everything was immaculate; it hadn’t changed at all since the day she’d come over to return the engagement ring. The housekeeping had kept the place in tiptop shape, and all the photos and albums on the mantle over the fireplace were dust-free.
Shane pulled three of the albums and brought them to the low table where their pizza was spread out. “So. Are the pictures inside all mine?” he asked.
“No. Some of them are mine and some are your family photographer’s.” She flipped opened the black one. Shane had never let her peek inside it before, calling it “a bunch of old family photos and stupid stuff”.
Inside were pictures of Shane as a baby, then his transformation into a toddler…a boy…then a man. He hadn’t been the happiest child. Kids generally weren’t shy and awkward in front of cameras, especially when they were handsome and generally outgoing. But Shane’s smiles were either stoic or obviously staged at the photographer’s direction. And he wasn’t the only one. His siblings also posed like store mannequins, and his parents were just as stiff, even in the shots where they had their arms around each other.
“Do you remember any of it?” she asked, looking at him.
“No. I just know we weren’t all that happy.”
“Things could change, you know,” she said. “Ceinlys was so…relaxed at the dinner. I’ve never seen her like that before.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“What about your dad? Has he called you yet?”
“Nah. And I don’t really expect him to. He never wanted me anyway.” He gave her a rueful smile that made her chest tight. “Yeah, I remember that much. Anyway, let’s not talk about that boring stuff. If you want to look through the photos, feel free. I’m going to nap now that I’m full.” He patted his stomach. “Join me?”
“If I nap now I’m not going to be able to fall asleep tonight.” She wanted to look at the rest of the albums, especially the ones he’d never let her see.
He nodded and closed his eyes. Soon he was snoring softly, his face slack and relaxed. She pulled an afghan over him and turned back to the albums.
Finally she reached a red one. She hadn’t seen that one either. She’d never understood why he’d kept so many if he didn’t want to show them to anybody. He certainly hadn’t looked at them much.
When she flipped the pages, an envelope dropped to the floor. She picked it up. It held something stiff inside, maybe a few photos he hadn’t yet mounted? There were only two words on the envelope—Re: Ginger.
Tilting her head, she opened it. Six photos spilled out onto her hands, then fell to the floor as she started shaking violently.
Her vision hazed, her mouth going dry. She blinked a few times, trying to focus on them, to see the details. Her heart pounded erratically, and something bitter and nasty coursed through her veins. She clenched her teeth as her stomach twisted hard, pushing the pizza back up.
She fell to her knees in front of the glossy photos. They were of her…and some men. They were in some kind of club, but she didn’t recognize the location. And she didn’t recognize anybody else in the pictures except herself.
But in the photos, she was laughing with the men. One of them had his hand on the small of her back and was leaning close, his face a handsbreadth away from her breasts. He wasn’t an ugly man, but she would’ve never allowed somebody she didn’t even know that kind of liberty, even if she’d been single.
Then there was another one of her dancing and laughing. Again, surrounded by men. They looked at her, and it appeared they were eye-fucking her even in the dim light.
Somebody buying her a drink. She accepting it with a flirty grin and a hand on the collar of his shirt.
She slowly gathered them up. They had to be photoshopped. There had to be some kind of inconsistency with the shadows or colors or…something that would show that they weren’t genuine.
Her body went alternately hot and cold as she studied every single square inch of them. She couldn’t see anything that looked wrong. And being a photographer herself, she knew what to look for.
What if whoever was behind them was really good? What if that was how they were able to make them look so authentic?
Who would make something like these and send them to Shane? A jealous woman who wanted Shane for herself? But Ginger had never noticed anybody like that around. He’d always been careful to let people know he was with Ginger and Ginger only.
She didn’t have any stalker or psycho ex-boyfriend either. She’d dated a boy before Shane, but that had been her freshman year of high school. The last she’d heard, he was a successful lawyer, happily married with two kids.
She reached for the envelope. The front had Shane’s name and address, and some PO box for the sender who hadn’t bothered to put down his—or her—name. It was postmarked the previous May.
Now it made sense. His erratic behavior. His leaving. His refusal to talk to her.
Anger exploded in her chest, stealing her breath. She was shaking so hard, she couldn’t even cry out in fury. Her eyes grew hot with unshed tears. He should’ve confronted her with them. Given her a chance to explain. She’d deserved that much, hadn’t she?
At the same time, a small part of her knew why he hadn’t. He’d never had any role model. That had been before his siblings had settled down, and his parents’ marriage had been a train wreck. She could just see him asking Salazar for advice. “Well, son, you should’ve expected it. That’s always how relationships go. There are other fish in the sea.”
The fury turned into an aching sense of loss and betrayal. She tried to blink away the tears, but they coursed down her cheeks anyway.
She stuffed the horrible pictures back into the envelope and shoved it into her purse. She was about to leave, then stopped at the sight of Shane. Quickly she scribbled a note for him on a napkin:
I just remembered something I have to do. Don’t worry about me.
She was going to find out who’d sabotaged her relationship with Shane and stolen one of the most precious things in her life. And then there would be hell to pay.
Chapter Sixteen
The first thing Ginger did when she got home was boot her laptop so she could look up the address. The PO Box was located in Cincinnati, Ohio. She could probably call the post office and ask who was renting it.
The United States Postal Service site pulled up the number
. When she dialed, the clerk said there must’ve been an error since the PO Box number didn’t exist. “You might want to contact the sender for the right address.”
“I don’t have their number or anything,” she said.
“Oh. Then I don’t know. Do you at least know their full name or the company name?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
The man sucked his teeth. “Don’t know what to tell you then.”
“Thanks anyway.” She hung up. Dead end.
She bit her lower lip. Why did she think it’d be easy? She’d thought she’d trace the address, find whoever was behind this and confront them. Were there any fingerprints on the envelope? She stared at it dubiously. Cop shows always had people handle evidence with gloves on. She doubted there was anything usable left after Shane and she had touched the envelope with their bare hands, assuming that the sender had been careless. It looked like it had all been carefully planned.
Who could help her figure this out? Shane’s family had private investigators on retainer to handle delicate situations, but she didn’t want to use them. She wasn’t certain that they’d be discreet until she got to the bottom of this. Their loyalty was to Shane, not her.
Then she snapped her fingers. Trevor!
How could she not have thought of this? She picked up her phone again and speed-dialed her brother. He’d always said he had contacts. Maybe they could dig around. When he didn’t pick up, she called her parents’ farm. Zoe answered the phone.
“Hi Mom. Is Trevor there?”
“No, he had to leave suddenly.”
“For what?”
“He said it was classified.” Ginger could imagine her mother rolling her eyes. Trevor threw that around so many times that they weren’t sure if it was for real or a code word for “I don’t want to talk bout it.”
“Did he say when he was coming back?” Trevor didn’t answer his phone or check voice mail when he was on his “classified” assignments.
“No. Are you all right, Ginger? You sound harried.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just remembered something I had to tell him, but it’s not urgent. I’ll wait until he’s back. Love you.”
“Love you too, dear.”
Ginger tapped her finger on the edge of her phone. Another bust. What should she do next? Just cold call a few investigators and see? But the really good ones didn’t work for just anybody. She’d heard rumors that even Justin Sterling had had to get an introduction at one point.
She called Debbie. “Hey, can we meet?” Debbie was her last hope.
“I’m in downtown right now. You want to meet for coffee or something?”
“Sure.”
“Actually let’s have dim sum. I didn’t eat lunch, and I’m starving.”
“Okay, that’s fine, too.”
“Meet me at Golden Dragon in half an hour or so then. If I get there early I’ll order for you.”
Ginger put the envelope back into her purse and drove to the restaurant. Debbie liked it because it had fabulous Chinese food, and most importantly, she got to eat free there since it was owned by one of her second cousins. The place was gorgeously appointed in rich gold and red and dragon motifs. The hostess recognized Ginger and led her immediately to the private dining room in the back.
Debbie was in a cute sunflower yellow dress with spaghetti straps. Expertly pedicured toes peeked through her matching sandals. She pushed her shoulder-length black hair back when she noticed Ginger and gestured at the empty high-backed chair. “I just got here. Finished my soup. The lobster’s very good today.”
“Is lobster ever not good?” Ginger took the seat. It was amazing how much food Debbie ate and still managed to stay thin.
Debbie chortled. “True.” Her sharp gaze zeroed in on Ginger’s face. “So what’s up? You don’t look like a carefree, ‘I’m in love’ kind of woman. I thought you reconciled with Shane?” She glanced at the ring on Ginger’s finger.
“We did, and it was great, but that’s not why I wanted to see you.” She pulled out the photos inside and explained what they were. And how she couldn’t trace anything back to the sender.
Debbie stared at the pictures. “They’re really good. Wow. They look so authentic.”
“That’s the problem. I think they’re the reason Shane pulled that disappearing act.”
Debbie’s head snapped up. “Damn. That sucks. Why didn’t he say something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he just freaked out. You know his family history. And these pictures… Shane probably looked for signs of manipulation and couldn’t find any.” He was a talented photographer himself and knew what good photoshopping could do.
Debbie scowled. “So you can’t tell if they’re photoshopped either?”
“If they were of somebody else, I would’ve thought they were real.”
“Eeek.” She rested her chin in her hand. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to find the person who did this.” Ginger explained what she’d tried. “So it looks like I’ll have to hire a pro for the job, and I’d like your help.”
“How?”
“You guys have an investigator on retainer, don’t you?”
“Yeah, we do, for vetting new employees and other stuff. But I don’t know the guy personally. He only deals with Dad. I’ll ask when I call him tonight.” Debbie scowled. “But the guy might be really expensive. Dad likes to splurge—you get what you pay for, blah blah blah blah blah.”
“I’ve got the money,” Ginger said. Dane had paid her plenty.
“Okay. I can’t promise anything…but hey, if Dad says no, we’ll find somebody else. It doesn’t matter.” Debbie narrowed her eyes. “I want to know what bastard did this to you, so I can set them on fire and watch them burn.”
Ginger hugged her friend. “You’re the best.”
* * *
“Ginger!”
His breaths came out in white puffs in the frosty air. He could barely make out anything in the darkness, but the way his voice echoed said the place was barren.
The sound of breathing grew louder as he ran. His heartbeat increased, each da-dum louder that the one before.
Where was she? He was so damn alone…
Finally he saw someone not too far ahead. He ran toward the figure, knowing it was Ginger. Nobody else was in the dark place except her.
She was standing in a puddle. Ginger turned her head slowly, her gaze unfocused and dim. She didn’t smile or wave. Her arms dangled by her sides, and there was a wet red stain on her thin, white dress. His gut twisted as he saw it was blood. “Ginger…”
The pale skin over her collarbone split. More blood spilled out.
“Oh my god, Ginger.” He reached out for her, pulled her close.
She didn’t make a sound, but more of her skin peeled open like an invisible knife was being pulled across her.
Fear chilled him. He held onto her, tightening his arms around her. “Stop!” he screamed, but more lacerations appeared on her skin and face. “Ginger!”
“Shane…?” she whispered. “It hurts.”
“Somebody help!” Panic bubbled in his throat. “Help!”
“Help!” Shane jackknifed into a sitting position…then blinked at the bright light shining into his eyes. He put a hand over them. Sweat filmed over his body, and his heart was beating fast and hard.
What the hell had that been? It didn’t feel like a lost memory coming back.
He buried his head in his hands, his heart starting to slow. Stupid nightmare.
He looked around.
Alone.
“Ginger?” he called out. “Ginger?”
No answer. Panic re-spiked his pulse. He rolled to his feet, bumping into the table. The empty pizza box and napkins fell on the floor, but he ignored them. “Ginger, where are you?”
He looked everywhere. Where was she? Was she okay?
There had been so much blood. He ran a hand over his face, trying to regain some perspective. It
was just a nightmare. Not real. She was probably fine. He dialed her number.
“Hey, Shane,” Ginger said.
“Where are you?”
“I’m out. With Debbie. Are you okay?”
Was he okay? He stared at his shaking hand. Jesus. He clenched it and dragged in some air. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I left you a note on the pizza box.”
“You did? Uh, yeah. I didn’t see it. I…” He swallowed. “I was just worried.” Who was Debbie? Oh yeah… Ginger’s best friend. “Okay then. Have a good time. When are you coming back?”
“Not sure yet. I have a lot of work to catch up on since I took so much time off. Even when I’m not working for clients, I have paperwork and stuff.”
He wanted to see her now, to make sure she was okay, but he also didn’t want her to see him like this. “Okay. Yeah, that’s fine.” He hung up and tossed the phone on the counter and rested his elbows on it, burying his face in his hands. Had he always overreacted after bad dreams? What an embarrassment.
Or was it just that particular dream? Jesus, it had felt real! He could still smell Ginger’s blood.
He breathed through his mouth. She’d been cut every time he touched her or said her name. Even his panic-scrambled brain could pick that up.
He dug the heels of his palms against his eyes. It was just a stupid dream. It didn’t mean anything.
Chapter Seventeen
Ginger didn’t go back to Shane’s penthouse after she finished the dim sum with Debbie. Instead she’d gone to her apartment to give herself some time to process everything that had happened.
How the discovery of the photos had changed so many things so fast…and so irrevocably. She’d been convinced that even though Shane didn’t remember everything—and the issue of what had made him leave in the first place hadn’t been resolved—they might be able to make their relationship work. She couldn’t have been more wrong.
The pictures established a pattern. They were clearly the reason Shane had left her the first time. And he had run off again when Dane had told him about her ex-boyfriend. Apparently, all it took for him to hightail it was an insinuation that she might not be faithful.