Run to You

by Lynne King

  Closing the bedroom door, he placed a call through to his captain on his cell phone. After several minutes of hearing he was acting like some crazy maverick again, his captain finally started to listen. Using various contacts, the word would go out that she had been questioned, but had denied all knowledge of the bank heist or O’Riley’s involvement and there was no evidence against her as yet. It would also be leaked she had returned to her apartment and was holding out on vital information in order to get some kind of a deal struck up with the DA. Gandini would be the first to hear, as there were more leaks in the police department than the sewer system. It would be what he expected to hear. After all, he was after the same person, and Jack knew that simply by watching Liz’s performance. If only she would trust him enough to tell him what he had threatened her with. The alternative was he didn’t know her at all and she was playing him with her victim act. He couldn’t bear to think of her that way, but it had crossed his mind more than once and experience taught him to be ready.

  “I will now return to my family and spend what little there is of my Sunday with them, and Jack, you screw this up and it won’t only be your job on the line.” His captain ended the conversation.

  Jack returned to making the bed up with the fresh linen. As he gathered up the torn sheet from the floor, he uncovered a broken wooden easel and, on closer inspection under some clothing, found several pencil sketches. He held one up of model yachts and motorboats—the setting, the conservatory pond in Central Park. He was no expert, but the details and scale were perfect. Remembering the torn watercolor, he wondered if that was her work as well. There was so much he didn’t know about her and didn’t need to know, he reminded himself. It wasn’t part of his job. He heard movement and saw Liz standing in the doorway holding two mugs, steam rising from them.

  “Trash everything, those sketches, clothes, the lot. I don’t want anything their grimy paws have been on.”

  Jack placed the sketch on the window ledge and went over and took a mug from her. “You sure? I mean they only pulled the clothes out of the closet. I don’t think they’re damaged.”

  “I have all I need in my case and besides, what use do I have now for posh frocks and classy suits.” She walked back into the living room.

  Following her with his gaze, Jack could see she had done some tidying up herself. Books and CDs had been gathered up and placed in a box, the veneer coffee table had been put upright and the sofa now had a bright yellow throw over it. Gone were the torn cushions, broken dishes, and glass. At least they hadn’t touched the TV, which was now displaying a music channel. The sound however was turned down. These last few hours had certainly toughened her up. Jack could feel it in her words and actions, or was this the real Elizabeth coming through? Sipping his coffee, he carried on watching her movements as she unpacked the groceries he had brought. Those torturous memories kept creeping in of feeling her in his arms, the smell and touch of her. His body craved what he couldn’t have and it was driving him crazy. This morning he had wanted her out of his life because he felt his self-control slipping away and now he was holed up in a one-bedroom apartment with her. Why was it so damn hot? He could feel the perspiration running down his back.

  “What’s happened to the goddamn air conditioning in this place?” he burst out with.

  “It packed up and the landlord hasn’t got around to fixing it.” She didn’t look up from her preparations of making a salad. “You get used to it.”

  Stripping off his jacket, Jack then rolled up his shirtsleeves. Placing the rest of the sketches on the dresser, he was not about to trash them. He then started gathering up the clothing she had wanted done with. He hesitated on the black number with diamonded shoulder straps, the silky satin material designed to emphasise every curve and to radiate sex appeal. Where would she have worn such a dress and for who? He placed it on a hanger and put it back in the closet. Turning his attention to the bathroom, he was relieved to see it had remained unscathed, the shower curtain easily clipped back up.

  An hour later, Jack was perched on a bar stool eating fried chicken with fries and salad. Opposite him at the breakfast bar was Liz, who was acting so damn casual that he felt like placing his hands around her neck and shaking the truth from her.

  Finally he could stand it no longer. “When are you going to get around to telling me what Gandini got from you or what exactly you promised to get for him?”

  Her green eyes narrowed sharply as she looked across at him. “He wants the same as you do, Jack.

  “I’m a cop, doing my job by trying to find the scum who brought O’Riley in and set the whole job up. Mark Hunter might have been a weak fool, but he didn’t deserve to be blackmailed and murdered. There are other victims in this that lost a great deal. Gandini can go to hell.”

  Liz stood up, grabbed his empty plate and hers, and threw them in the sink and turned on the tap. “I don’t care what either of you want, I simply want this over and my life back.” She turned around and faced him. “That’s not going to happen, is it, Jack? Because if Gandini doesn’t get what he wants and you do, I lose and if Gandini wins, I lose too. You can’t keep me safe. He proved that, so what choice do I have? Tell me, Jack.”

  He witnessed the vulnerability flooding back into her face and in two steps he stood in front of her and reached behind her, turning the tap off. “It won’t happen again. He won’t get to you, I promise.”

  There was no stopping either of them this time. He knew from the second their eyes locked he no longer cared whether she was genuine. He had to have her. His fingertips drove into her silky hair, cradling her scalp, his lips ensnaring hers possessively. Frenziedly, she was kissing him back, her tongue tantalizing his and touching the roof of his mouth, adding to the sensations.

  She broke away, her palms on his chest pushing him back against the breakfast bar, his hands now redundant. In one swift movement she pulled her T-shirt off over her head and threw it to the ground.

  Jack felt his jaw drop. Surprise would be an understatement. It also took a lot of will power to wait rather than reach out, his hands now gripping the breakfast bar behind him. Stepping forward, her fingers started unbuttoning his shirt, her tongue traveling down each part of chest exposed. Finally she drove the whole shirt back and over his forearms, trapping him while her tongue circled his belly button, her fingers lightly toying with his nipples.

  Jack threw back his head. “Jesus,” he mouthed silently.

  Steady fingers this time were releasing his belt and then his fly, her tongue now feathery light above his pubic bone. That did it. Any further and he would end up coming in his pants. Freeing himself of his shirt, his hands went under her armpits and brought her body up and around so she was now his captive.

  “My turn,” he mouthed against the intoxicating taste and smell of her skin, his fingers unclipping her bra and freeing creamy mounds. Plunging his face between their soft cushioning, his mouth was savoring each hard crimson tip in turn while his fingers deftly unzipped her jeans and yanked them down. He could feel her fingers pressing into his scalp, holding her to him. When his hand ran over her smooth stomach and slipped into her panties, his fingers touching her folds while his thumb rubbed her clitoris, she let out a throaty moan. Gently, he slid his fingers further and feeling her soft silky mound pushing against his hand, crying out for relief, his fingers delved into her moistness while his thumb worked its magic.

  “Jack,” she cried out, her body quivering as he felt her climax, the contractions drawing his fingers in with the force. At that moment he looked up at her. With her head thrown back, her eyes closed, and lips parted, unbridled passion and beauty illuminated her.

  His own yearning was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and was straining against his pants. It had to be now, he could hold out no longer, only his jacket was in the bedroom with his wallet containing condoms. Freeing himself of his pants, he swept her up in his arms and walked into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Leaning up on her elbo
ws, her firm breasts rose and fell with her shallow breathing. Her eyes glistened with excitement, gazing upon his body like a sculptress appraising her work. A small smile appeared and her tongue slid seductively over her top lip as she continued watching him sheath himself. If she touched him now, he wouldn’t need the damn thing. He was fit to burst.

  “Jack, I think you’ve made a wanton woman of me,” she said huskily.

  Parting her legs with his own, his hands clasped her hipbones and without further foreplay he was inside her, the entry so rapid and fierce he heard her gasp.

  “Are you okay?” he asked quickly. Her body answered, arching reflexively against him as he moved within her, soft murmuring against his shoulder. He’d had some women in his time, but this one was like no other. He was her captive and he knew, as the exquisite intensity of ecstasy swept through him, he would never be free of her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sunrise streaked through the gap in the curtains, casting rays of shadowy light across the floor to the bed frame and as each minute passed, rose further up from the floor, over the edge of the mattress, and now onto his soles. Liz sat on a wicker chair with her kimono loosely covering her own nakedness while Jack lay fully stretched out on his front, the sheets crumpled on the floor somewhere. He was sleeping soundly and hadn’t even stirred when she had removed his arm from around her and risen from the bed.

  She couldn’t help herself and had fetched her sketch pad and pencils from the bottom of the closet. It was like being at art classes again, with the subject perfectly positioned in order to capture all the contours and bring beauty to the male body. Jack didn’t need any additional touching up. From those firm thighs to his cute rounded butt, his back dipped slightly and then broadened out to wide powerful shoulders. The side of his face was buried in the pillow and tousled tawny strands depicted something untamed within. And while her pencil illustrated what her gaze fell upon, her thoughts were filled with pleasurable memories of what that body was capable of. The slick sheen of perspiration that coated his smooth skin still engulfed her senses, the taste and feel of him embedded like a drug flowing through her veins. In-between those times, their bodies totally exhausted, she remembered how he had held her close and made her feel so safe, secure that she wanted to stay that way forever. During those brief moments he had actually revealed a little about his past.

  “I’m a cop. It’s consistent and I’m good at it. Relationships, on the other hand, are unpredictable—they suck you in and then turn on you. I’ve seen too many good men destroyed to allow myself to go down that path,” he had replied bluntly when she had asked why he was still single at thirty-two.

  “Don’t you want a family one day, children I mean?” she had blurted out.

  “Are you offering to provide me with some, then?” He had laughed while at the same time pulling her over so her knees were either side of his chest, his hands on her waist.

  Liz hadn’t been about to give in that easily and had placed her hands over his to prevent them roving. “What about Romeo’s former owner? You lived with her for a while. You told me so.”

  “Yeah, well that was her idea from the beginning and after a year, she realized what I had been telling her all along. I can’t be owned.”

  “Did you love her?”

  “Did you love your fiancé?”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. I thought so, but now I think we were simply playing at it. We were seeing each other casually for a while and then when my parents died, he helped me through it. In a way I think he felt just as trapped. Anyway, he certainly wasn’t the person I thought I knew. Now when I look back on it, our whole relationship was one of convenience rather than love.”

  That painful confession, she guessed, had dried up her need for conversation. She placed her hands on his chest, allowing his fingers to rise up her back as they came together, rolling and tumbling across the bed.

  What she hadn’t told him was that his touch, the way he caressed her, the feel of him inside her was an experience like no other. He knew every erogenous zone on her body, ones she didn’t even know about until his mouth touched her there and sent her into another mind-blowing climax. Not many men could do that, she guessed, well, definitely not Simon. It was that last time though, hearing him cry out her name when they climaxed as one. That was when she knew she was in so deep. Madly in love was the term one used, especially seeing how crazy it was to be in love with someone like Jack Willis. He made love, but he didn’t allow himself to fall in love.

  Liz closed her mind to the intensity of that memory. Looking down at her sketch, the mistiness clouded her vision, her gaze lifting over toward him, and at the same time a tear slid down her cheek.

  A pathway of bright light lit up his whole body now and fell upon his face. Jack began to stir and brought his hand up to push away the strands of hair and then covered the exposed part of his face. The fingers parted and his blue gaze fell on her.

  “Jesus, what time is it?” he groaned.

  “It’s nearly seven.” She quickly wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and tucked the sketch pad under the cushion of the chair.

  “Shit, I’ve been right out of it.” He moved his hand and sat up. Running his fingers through his hair and shaking his head as if to clear his senses, his gaze fell on the pencils on her lap.

  “How long you been awake?”

  The scraping was barely audible and if the bedroom door hadn’t been ajar, neither would have heard it. She had opened her mouth to reply, but no words had formed as Jack placed his finger over his lips, motioning with his other hand for her to remain silent. The clicking and scraping sound continued, coming from the direction of the entrance door to the apartment. Liz‘s hand flew to her mouth. She hadn’t bolted the door from the inside and Jack couldn’t have, not unless he crept out during the night to do it.

  Silently, he moved to the edge of the bed and reached down, pulling his gun holster out from underneath it. Placing it on the bed, he took out the 9 mm from its casing and released the safety catch. Standing up, he swiftly pulled on his pants and moved toward the bedroom door and closed it without clicking it shut. At the same time they both heard the entrance door being opened. Liz felt unable to move despite Jack’s silent gesturing for her to get down on the floor. Her knees were now tucked tightly under her chin, her arms wrapped around them as if she wanted to make herself as small as possible. Hearing footsteps approaching and not seeing what lay behind that door brought back the nightmare of being in Shaun’s apartment and what followed. Her whole body was trembling and she glanced up to see Jack had placed himself between her and the door hinge. Seeing him standing there naked above the waist, the gun held between both sets of fingers ready to fire, waves of pure terror gripped her, not for her own life but for fear of losing a man she was in love with.

  The door started opening inwardly and a dark shape stepped slowly into the room. In a flash, Jack had kicked the door shut and at the same time placed the gun barrel to the intruder’s temple.

  “Start talking and fast before I decide to put a bullet in that poor excuse of a brain. Keep your arms up where I can see them.”

  “Hey, man, my mistake. Wrong apartment, must be the one above.”

  “Wrong answer, try again and this time cut the crap.” Jack kept the gun pointing firmly at his forehead now while he frisked him over with his other hand.

  “Hey, I’m clean, man.”

  “Then what’s this, you sonofabitch?” Jack pulled out a switchblade knife from the man’s white jacket. Releasing the blade, he held it up to his dark cheekbone.

  “Protection, the streets aren’t safe for a man of means. You should know, Detective. They mug you now for the shirt on your back, when you’re wearing one, that is.” A grin started to spread slowly as he glanced over to her and then to Jack, standing there in his pants with no socks and no shirt on, the rumpled bed behind, evidence of what had gone on beforehand.

  He quickly regretted his amusement as
Jack tossed the knife along with his gun onto the bed and then brought his fist back, hammering it into the man’s stomach. As he doubled over in pain, Jack threw him back up against the door, his elbow resting below the throat, pinning him there. The whites of his eyes appeared to bulge and beads of sweat broke out on his baldness.

  “Who sent you and why? Start talking, Angel, now, otherwise I might stop being a cop and start beating the crap out of you.”

  That warning confirmed Liz’s suspicion that they knew each other. He also took Jack’s warning seriously because he started talking fast and furiously, murderous eyes glancing over at her.

  “Hey, man. I was simply going to rough her up a little. She had it coming. You know, teach her how it’s not right to mess around with Angel’s business. That stuck-up bitch got her bank robber lover to kick me around like a bag of shit. All the time she’s playing Snow White while running around with a fucking murderer.”

  “Where did you get your info?” Jack sounded surprised.

  “The word’s out on the streets. The Paddy boy stole something from someone he shouldn’t of and paid for it. Perhaps she’ll be next.” He looked over at Liz, his eyes narrowing. “That’s why you’re here guarding her, so to speak. The femme fatale chooses her victims well, Detective, but then you always liked mixing business with pleasure. We both know that from the old days. How is Linda? I heard she’s moved up and out of our league, Jack. Not like this one.” He winked across at her and pursed his mouth as if to blow her a kiss.

  Jack punched him hard again in the stomach, causing Liz to flinch. “I think you’ve said enough. Now get the hell out of here. If I see your face around here again or news of this gets out, I won’t be giving out any second chances. You know me, Angel. I never go back on a promise.”