Terror and Temptation_A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Vella Day

  She wiggled her butt, allowing his moist finger better access. He plunged another finger in her and kissed her belly. She moaned, and the sound sent him nearer to the edge.

  Kelly tugged on his shoulders. “Come on, Derek. I can’t wait any more.”

  “Patience, my love. Enjoy the moment.”

  “Kiss me.”

  He couldn’t deny her anything. As he drew near to her delicious lips, she pushed on one shoulder to flip him over. Thinking he’d hurt her, he rolled onto his back. Never did he expect her to straddle him. The joy of seeing Kelly look down at him with love in her eyes nearly took his breath away.

  With her hand, she guided his dick right into her. With as much control as he could muster, he clutched her hips and slowly pushed upward to reached the depths of her soul. He closed his eyes and could feel the power of his spirit guides fill him. His lids shot open, fearful they’d whisk him away.

  “What’s wrong,” she asked.

  He smiled. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Massaging her wonderful breasts, she leaned her head back. Blood pounded in his ears, as his heart nearly exploded from joy. Derek eased in and the out, but Kelly seemed to want more. She lifted up and then dropped down. With each pass, her hips moved faster and faster. Time stood still. He thought both of them might have traveled someplace else until Kelly let out a cry of ecstasy. Without warning, he shot his seed into her.

  A moment later she collapsed onto his chest, her breathing as fast as his. “I know it sounds clichéd, but did the earth move for you too?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Oh, yeah.” With Kelly by his side, he realized he could face and conquer any obstacle. “You better watch out. I don’t want the spirit guides to come and take you away.”

  “As long as you come with me, I’ll go anywhere.”

  “Now that’s a promise I’m going to hold you to.”

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  I hope you enjoyed Kelly and Derek’s story. Up next is TERROR AND TEMPTATION. Here is the first chapter.

  Charlotte, North Carolina

  About time she got here. Morton Richter ducked down in his seat just as Audrey Mae Thompson and her baby boy, Bobby, rolled to a stop at her duplex. He turned the ignition key to check the dashboard clock for the tenth time in the last hour. What had taken her so long to arrive?

  Better not have been another man. His pulse spiked at that thought. Don’t even go there. Morton forced a calming breath. Think. She has Bobby with her, which meant she would have been visiting her mama. It was the only explanation.

  He unclenched his fists, wiped his slick palms on the nubby seat fabric, and lowered his window halfway, sending in the cold air. He took another deep breath. Shit. Did it stink or what? It had been a bad idea to park next to the open dumpster, but he hadn’t wanted Audrey Mae to spot him when she got home.

  He wrinkled his nose, sat up, and placed the clunky binoculars on the top of the steering wheel, ready for a front row view of Audrey Mae in the flesh.

  Damn, it was fucking cold. What’d he expect? He’d been sitting in his truck in the middle of November for three goddamn hours with the engine off.

  Hold on.

  Morton jerked to attention. She was getting out of her car. Just as Audrey Mae hauled little Bobby out of the backseat of her rusty, lime green VW, the front porch light flickered, and then went out. He hoped she’d remembered to pay her utility bill. It wouldn’t do to keep a baby in a cold house.

  Audrey Mae shifted her kid from one hip to the other as she stabbed her hand in her purse, probably looking for her house key. Good thing the moon was full so he could see her.

  Morton started to slip out to give her a hand but then decided it was best to let her settle in first before he surprised her. A moment later, she slipped inside. The lamp in the window came on and cast a yellow-like glow in her postage stamp sized living room.

  Through his lens, Morton watched her duck into the baby’s room. As he waited for her to return, his foot tapped out a beat.

  Sweet Audrey. So vulnerable. So in need of his care. Morton vowed he’d never hurt her child like his old man had hurt him. No. He’d be gentle, no matter if the kid stole his cigarettes or stashed porno mags under the bed. Kids deserved a little fun.

  There. She was back with little Bobby now in his pajamas. Morton adjusted the focus ring to get a clearer image of her breastfeeding. Pride swelled. This morning he’d decided he had no choice but to take them away. Far away—where Bobby’s no good father couldn’t find him and abuse him.

  Not wanting to waste any more time, he pushed open the truck door, and the hinge squeaked loud enough to wake the neighbors. Damn. If the car noise didn’t alert her, the stupid mutt barking across the street would. The dog acted like someone had filleted one of its young.

  “Shut up,” Morton whispered in a throaty growl.

  He hoped to God Audrey didn’t question the dog’s racket. Of course, around here, she probably didn’t even flinch at a gunshot.

  He tossed the binoculars behind the seat and closed the door real slow, but it still let out another groan. He needed to fix it, but not until after he took Audrey and the baby away from here.

  Morton strode up to her place, wishing he’d brought a flashlight. Just his luck to step in dog shit.

  He couldn’t wait to see the expression on her face when she saw him in his spiffy new suit. He pretended it was his wedding suit. The flower he’d stabbed in his lapel made it look official too. It shouldn’t matter to her the pink carnation was plastic.

  Damn. He should have brought her flowers. All women liked flowers. And Audrey Mae was all woman.

  He pressed her doorbell a couple of times, liking the sound of the chirping birds. Sweet. Like the woman inside.

  “Who’s there?”

  Her voice came out too shrill, almost as if the sound had frightened her. Had Bobby’s father come sniffing around and hurt her again?

  “It’s me, Morton,” he said real slow, wanting to sound non-threatening.

  “Go away,” Audrey Mae shouted.

  She couldn’t mean it. The baby began to cry. “Now you’ve gone and upset Bobby,” Morton bit back, trying not to become angry. When she didn’t answer, a sharp pain stabbed him behind his eye. “Come on, Audrey Mae. Lemme in,” he said with more force than before to make sure she’d hear.

  He jiggled the storm door handle. Shit. It was locked.

  “I told you I don’t want nothin’ to do with you,” Audrey yelled back. “Do I need to get a restrainin’ order or somethin’?” Her tone changed to sharp and demanding—real mean-like.

  “Don’t talk like that, honey. I want to help you and Bobby.” He waited a beat, watching his breath frost on the glass.

  She wedged open the main door and peered out. Her blondish red hair tangled about her shoulders and her jeans were a little too tight, but to him she looked like a ripe peach ready to be plucked.

  “You can’t come in. I told you we was finished.” Audrey Mae’s bottom lip firmed as she clasped Bobby closer to her chest and turned to the side.

  “Please?”

  God. I sound pathetic.

  It was just like when he was ten, and he had to grovel in front of his dad to stop him from doing bad things to him.

  “Go away!” She slammed the door in his face.

  Anger rushed up his gut so fast he had to take a sharp breath to keep from ripping off the door.

  “Bitch,” he spat out.

  Audrey wasn’t any better than his no-good mama who’d ignored him when he needed her most. As he stalked back to his truck, Morton knocked the lid off from one of the trashcans. It pinged and rolled half way into the street. He hoped the whole goddamn neighborhood woke up.

  Once in his truck, he stabbed the key into the ignition and took off, but he didn’t
go far. Oh no. Not far at all. He knew women. Audrey Mae would go running back to her mama. And he’d be right there behind her when she did.

  From a block away, he pulled over to the curb where he could watch her house. He’d wait for as long as it took. He had no place else to go.

  Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Audrey Mae came sneaking out with her bundled up baby and a suitcase. She looked so like his mama, all scared and whimpering, bent over like she was waiting for a beating.

  What had he seen in Audrey anyway? Oh yeah. She was a woman with a child who had a bad ex hanging around—a woman who needed protecting.

  Her headlights flashed on, and she raced out of her driveway, heading toward Charlotte, where her mama had an apartment. Morton wasn’t sure exactly where the older woman lived, but he knew it was somewhere in town.

  Keeping a few car lengths behind, he kept an eye on her as she sped up. Audrey took a corner too fast and her VW skidded toward the curb. His heart raced, fearing for Bobby’s life. He wanted to yell at her for being so careless, but he knew scared women never listened.

  She pulled to a stop at the signal then turned around toward the baby. She obviously had no clue he was two car-lengths behind.

  Speckle-like rain drizzled on his windshield, and he wanted to warn Audrey to drive more careful, to tell her the roads would be slick, but before he could get his hand on the door handle to jump out, the signal turned green and Audrey Mae took off, the car’s rear end fishtailing through the intersection.

  A van, traveling along the cross street going super fast ran the red light then slammed on its brakes. Tires squealed as the huge vehicle swerved left and then right. Not having enough space to stop, it crashed into the side of Audrey’s small car.

  Metal crunched, sparks flew. Oh, shit.

  Audrey’s car got squashed.

  “Noooo.” Morton ripped open his door refusing to believe the two people he’d wanted to protect the most might be dead.

  Four years later

  “Ohmigod,” Chelsea said. Waiting for the Blue Moon’s Bar to open, the waitress hopped up on the barstool and spread the Tampa Tribune on the shiny bar. “Listen to this, Tessa. A woman was shot to death in her car two nights ago on Bayshore Boulevard.”

  Tessa Redman looked up at the waitress and stopped polishing the counter. Bayshore was less than two miles away. “How horrible.” Thinking about a killer on the loose caused a chill to race down her spine. “Maybe I’ll ask Judd if I can beef up the lights in the parking lot.”

  Chelsea’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Great idea. I hate going out by myself at night. It’s creepy sometimes.”

  “Tell me about it.” Tessa returned to disinfecting the bar, wrinkling her nose at the strong bleach smell. Her mind reeled with the horror the woman must have experienced in the last few seconds of her life.

  Tessa finished cleaning, tossed the rag into a bucket of soapy water, and then stacked the liquor bottles behind her. The crinkling of the flipped page brought Tessa back to the incident, and she stepped in front of Chelsea. “Do the police have any leads?”

  The waitress ran a bright red, well-manicured nail farther down the newspaper column. “Not really. All it says is the time of death was around midnight.”

  “Hmm. Even at that time, I’m surprised no one heard the gunshot.”

  “Maybe everyone was sleeping.”

  “Or no one could be bothered.”

  Chelsea bobbed her head up and down. “I can see that.” A hint of regret filled her tone. “Hey, maybe the guy used a silencer.”

  Before Tessa could speculate on the series of events, the doublewide front doors opened, sending in a shaft of bright sunlight through the dimly lit restaurant, silhouetting a large man. Cool, salt air from the bay filtered in along with him.

  “We open at eleven,” Tessa announced.

  “That’s all right,” he replied as the doors swung shut behind him. “I just need some information.”

  As he neared the bar, last night’s peanut shells crunched under his commanding steps. He looked down, and then returned his gaze to her face. A narrow cone of light from the overhead lantern illuminated the angle of the man’s face. Whoa. The sharp plane of his face and powerful shoulders caused her breath to catch, and her heart did an unexpected flip—a sensation she hadn’t experienced in...forever.

  He held up his police badge, and her heart almost stopped before it raced, and blood rushed from her face. “What do you want?” The panic in her voice made her sound guilty, even to her.

  “I’m Detective Dominic Rossi with the Tampa PD. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  The detective’s piercing gaze had Tessa grabbing for the edge of the bar. “What about?”

  “A woman was killed near here two nights ago. We have reason to believe she might have visited the bar before she was murdered. Were you working Wednesday night?”

  Tessa nodded to Chelsea. “Would you mind seeing to the table set ups?” Her heart continued to pound.

  “Okay,” Chelsea said, pursing her lips, clearing wanting in on the action.

  Tessa turned back to the cop, and a lump formed in her throat. “Yes, I was here.”

  The detective plucked an envelope from his shirt pocket, stepped closer to the bar, and slid a photo toward her. “Do you recognize this woman? I’m sorry it’s rather graphic.”

  Tessa let out a pent up breath. Apparently this cop only wanted a name. She’d be happy to help any way she could and leaned over to get a closer view. The bone-white face of the woman resting against a half open car window grabbed the breath out of her. A trail of blood ran from the woman’s blond hair ran down to her neck.

  “Ohmigod.” Unfortunately, the angle of the photo failed to give Tessa a good look of the woman’s face. She tilted the photo toward the light hoping for a better view. “She’s kind of familiar, but I can’t place her.” Her heart thudded at the gruesome scene.

  “Her name’s Keri Wilkerson. We found a set of matches on her front seat with the Blue Moon’s name on it.” He pulled out a notepad and flipped to a yellow Post-it tab. “It also had a phone number inside. 813-555-8395.”

  Her number. Goose bumps raced up Tessa’s arms. “I remember her now.” She’d told the distressed woman if she needed to talk to call her at home. “She was here Wednesday night.”

  “Do you remember if she was with anyone?”

  Tessa visualized where Keri sat at the bar. “No, she was by herself. I don’t remember her talking to anyone but me.”

  “How did Mrs. Wilkerson seem?”

  Tessa pictured the woman—shoulders slumped, mascara blurred under her eyes, but dressed in designer jeans. “Sad, confused, angry.”

  “Did she say why?”

  The larger-than-life cop lifted a lean hip onto the stool and focused on her face as if memorizing it. Tessa didn’t like the scrutiny and forced a calm she didn’t feel.

  “Her eyes were red, and her face was splotchy when she arrived. I could tell she’d been crying. The woman, Keri, came in and ordered a double scotch on the rocks. She downed her drink in a few chugs and ordered another. I couldn’t forget her. For quite a while Keri just stared, not saying a word. After about an hour, I asked her if anything was wrong, and she blurted out she’d caught her husband in bed with a man.”

  His brows arched. “You sure she said a man?”

  “Yes. Keri suffered from overwhelming guilt, as if she was somehow to blame for her husband’s deception and change of lifestyle.”

  The detective neatly printed her information in his pad. “Do you remember what time Mrs. Wilkerson left?”

  “Not exactly, but I think it was a little before midnight, right before we close.”

  His face remained unreadable as he continued to jot notes. “May I have your name?”

  “My name?” Her heart stuttered.

  “Yes.”

  Did she dare tell him? “Why?”

  “For the record.”

  “Oh
. Ah, Tessa.” His hand stilled in mid air, obviously waiting for her last name. “Redman. Tessa Redman.”

  His pen went to work again, and she prayed her name wouldn’t ring a bell.

  “Are you the owner?” He glanced up, his piercing blue eyes locking onto her face.

  “No, my half-brother, Judd Redman, owns the Blue Moon.”

  “Was he around Wednesday night?”

  Her stomach turned queasy thinking about Judd’s condition. “I’m afraid he’s been in and out of the hospital for the last few weeks.”

  “I’m sorry.” His sincere tone surprised her. “What time did you leave here that night?”

  “It was after one. I stayed to work on the books since Wednesday is my bookkeeping day, or rather night.”

  “Can anyone vouch for your presence?”

  “No.” She tried not to show her annoyance. “What are you implying?”

  “I’m not implying anything, ma’am, just doing my job.”

  As if she’d have anything to do with a murder. Please. Tessa glanced over to Chelsea cleaning a tabletop a few feet away, no doubt listening to every word.

  The detective looked down at his hands for a split second. “I know you’re not open for business yet, but could I have a drink?”

  His abrupt shortening of the interview threw her. What was he up to? Was he just another cop needing to take the edge off the horrors of his job? Or was he here for another purpose?

  “I’m sorry. I don’t serve on-duty policemen.”

  He lifted his head and seemed to fight a smile. “I meant a Coke. I’ll pay.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks. “Sure. Sorry.”

  Some psychologist she was going to be. She needed to be more careful about jumping to unwarranted conclusions.

  Tessa drew the drink from the tap and handed Detective Rossi the glass. Their fingers touched for a brief moment causing a shock of electricity to bolt up her arm. She jumped back so fast, she felt like a fool.

  The cop’s long, broad fingers had unsettled her, reminding her of someone else. Tessa choked back her anxiety, picked up a clean rag, and began to polish the spotless, wooden bar again, hoping the detective wouldn’t notice her discomfort. The last thing she needed was the exposure of a criminal investigation.