by CP Smith
James dropped a knee to the bed, then grabbed me under my arms and flung me toward the headboard. Then, without a word, he spread my legs wide and buried his mouth between them. My back arched on contact, and I grabbed his head, anchoring him to my core. The same spark of electricity I’d felt each time he touched me charged through my body, until I felt like I’d fracture into a million pieces.
His tongue played my body with infinite ease, never letting up until I came apart in a blinding light, calling out his name. Before I’d fully ridden out my climax, James came to his knees, ran his thick shaft across my swollen core, and surged to the hilt. I combusted again from the fullness, the shock of it causing a deep moan to spill from my throat as I scored his back with my nails.
“You gonna go out with me now?” James murmured in my ear, as I tightened my legs around his waist. I could hear the smile in his voice. He was so damn arrogant and full of himself, but considering how many orgasms I’d had in the past few minutes alone, he deserved to be.
“You keep making me feel like this, and I’ll consider it,” I gasped and he drove in deeper, reminding me just how good he was.
He slowed his pace, sliding in and out of me until I began to peak again. I clenched around his cock as nerve endings fired in unison, paralyzing me with an overload of sensation. With a bolt of shock that I felt down to my toes and deep within my soul, I fell over the precipice again, and this time he followed, grunting low in his throat as he spilled his seed deep within my walls, clenching me tightly as he lost control.
With a satisfyingly manly groan, James rolled to his side, taking me with him as he came down from his release. He kept his mouth at my neck, placing a kiss there and at the base of my throat without breaking our connection, his fingers brushing lightly across my ass. I felt such deep happiness at that moment. Emotions I couldn’t name swirled through my chest and then settled like they’d found a permanent home.
Needing to feel closer to his body, I started to crawl on top of him so I could drink in his warmth, and that’s the moment I realized we’d forgotten a condom.
Unprotected sex in this new age of acquired immune deficiency syndrome was reckless. Unprotected sex when you weren’t on the pill was irresponsible and potentially life-altering. As a woman, I knew better. As a nurse who’d witnessed the effects of AIDS, I had no excuse.
How could I be so stupid?
I’d gone off the pill when Jonathan and I broke up. It gave me terrible headaches, so I’d tossed them since I didn’t see a need for them in the foreseeable future.
“Jesus,” James whispered into the gloom, pulling me deeper into his body, his tone almost astonished.
I mumbled, “James,” as panic set in. I was too rattled at that moment to remember where I was in my cycle.
Without warning, James rolled into me, taking me to my back, and then kissed me long, wet, and deep. “Did you feel it too?” he asked against my swollen lips, nipping and sucking them as if he couldn’t get enough.
Still reeling from my stupidity, I just blinked in answer to his question.
“Tell me you felt the same connection,” he continued. “Tell me I’m not in this alone.” His voice sounded guarded as he cupped my face and ran his thumb across my bottom lip. The soft but cautious tone caught my attention—drawing me out of my head and back into the moment—and the reverent way he was stroking my bottom lip sent additional sparks to my already revved up system. And just like that, my panic evaporated. I knew what he was talking about. From the moment we met, a part of me felt drawn to him, even when I was running scared in the opposite direction. Now James felt like the missing link I needed to be happy, and he was saying he felt the same way.
His face was shadowed as I looked up into his eyes, but even in the dim light, I could tell he was tense as he waited for my answer. So I raised my hand and cupped his jaw, then leaned up and brushed my lips gently across his, whispering, “I felt it, too. I have since the moment I met you.”
His eyes sparked to life in the low light then turned hungry, and I found myself heading toward bliss for the fifth time in an hour.
It wasn’t until much later that I realized my mistake again.
“Um, James.”
He was currently exploring my breasts, making it hard to think.
“Yeah, baby?”
“We didn’t use protection.”
He paused mid-lick, and I held my breath, waiting for him to erupt in anger. Instead, he flicked my pebbled nipple with his tongue like a cat enjoying his cream.
“I take it that’s a problem?” he asked, looking up at me with a calm exterior.
I swallowed, then nodded.
I expected him to be upset, but he looked almost arrogant for a moment. Then his mouth pulled into a sheepish grin, and he ran his hand gently across my belly. “Guess you really have to go out with me now.”
“This is serious,” I sighed.
“Yeah, it is. But it’s not somethin’ to be upset about.”
I blinked. “How can you say that? We’ve known each other two days.”
“Five,” he corrected.
“Two. Five. What does it matter?”
“It’ll matter to our kid if there is one. They like to know how their parents met.”
My eyes widened. “If there is a baby, he or she will NOT get the true version of events.”
“He,” James stated with authority.
I rolled my eyes. “Or she will be told you asked me out daily for two months, not two days before I gave in.”
James smiled wickedly. “Do I get lucky on the first date in your version of events?”
I gasped. “No. You were a perfect gentleman because I’m a good girl.”
He raised a brow. “Babe, he’s my son. He’s gonna know his old man didn’t wait two months.”
I gnawed on my lip. “This is true.”
“Not to mention, he’s gonna be able to add.”
“Shoot,” I groaned, then came up with a plan B. “We’ll just change her birthdate, then. That way she’ll never know.”
James blinked, then buried his head in my neck and his body began to shake.
“Are you laughing at me?” I groused, poking him in the back.
“Yep,” he croaked out.
“This isn’t funny,” I wailed.
“Then stop bein’ cute.”
“I am not cute! Little girls are cute. Puppy dogs are cute. I am so NOT cute.”
The arrogant man laughed harder.
FOUR
“JAMES?” I CALLED OUT, looking over my shoulder.
He was pulling on his shirt and I paused in admiration. The broad, corded muscles of his back flexed as he drew the shirt over his head, and I was thoroughly enjoying the view until I noticed the tiny red lines I’d left behind with my fingernails. The memory of him sliding in and out of me with powerful thrusts short-circuited my brain, and I stood captivated, mute, and dazed.
“Yeah?” I jumped when he answered, lost in the erotic memories of what we’d just done.
My eyes traveled slowly up his body to his face without answering. He looked like a wild man again, and my heart reacted with a resounding thump. Dear God, the man made my body hum with a single look.
He cocked his head, the movement almost catlike with his eyes shimmering in the diffused light of the room. When I didn’t respond, something stirred in the depth of his expression and he moved, stalking around the bed, the air of uncoiled power dripping from him. Then he was in front of me, towering over my body like a predator. Heat rushed to my face as the images of his body moving over mine spun in a continuous loop. I opened my mouth to answer, closed it, and then wet my lips with the tip of my tongue, unable to utter a single word, my question forgotten with the wind.
His eyes zeroed in on my mouth and he reached up without warning and grabbed my neck, jerking me into his body, claiming my mouth roughly. We exchanged air as he took the kiss deeper, wetter, my head swimming as my body reignited like I’d been
starved of his contact for years, not recently sated, and we started to lose control again. But just as quickly as it started, the flames died to a smolder as his pager vibrated, reminding us that time was not our own with a killer on the loose.
“I gotta call in and let them know I found you,” he said against my lips. “Then I gotta take you to the station so you can give your statement.”
I shuddered at the reminder. Two women were dead. One because she carried the same name as me, and I knew that truth would haunt me for the rest of my life. If I hadn’t gotten involved with Sara, the other Susan Montgomery would still be alive.
I listened as James called the station on my kitchen phone, thinking about Sara Watson. Had she said anything to me that would shed light on her killer? Was there someone in the diner watching us as we spoke? A shudder ran down my back as ice slithered down my spine, spreading a cold, weighty fear. What if the killer figured out he’d gotten rid of the wrong Susan Montgomery? My fight or flight instinct roared to life with that revelation, and that’s when the shaking started. Adrenaline tickled my brain as it dumped swiftly like a waterfall over boulders, kicking up my racing heart. My hands trembled from the sudden overdose of hormones, almost useless as I crammed clothes into an overnight bag. I became lightheaded almost instantly, my intake of breath coming in short bursts that didn’t fill my lungs, increasing my panic by a hundred-percent. If I didn’t reel in my control soon, I would pass out.
“Susan?” James questioned quietly, watching me from the bedroom door.
I closed my eyes, curling my hands into fists as I tried to will away the bloody images ravaging my headspace. I’m gonna die!
“Baby?” James whispered into my ear. His steely arm pulled me back into his chest and I panicked, the thought of being restrained for any reason heightening my fear.
Why it had taken this long for the severity of my situation to kick in was a mystery, but once it had, I felt trapped and unable to breathe. “Let me go,” I cried out in fear. If I didn’t move right that moment, I would come apart at the seams.
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“Let me go.” James heard the panic in Susan’s voice, and held on. He knew when he walked back into the bedroom she was in trouble. Her eyes were wild—like a caged animal—as she packed her bag, her breath coming in short gulps of air. His gut reaction had sealed any doubts he might have had she was the woman he’d been waiting for his whole life. He’d immediately wanted to find the man who was terrorizing her mind and rip him limb from limb. Put him six feet under so she’d never feel out of control again.
“Breathe, baby,” James mumbled softly into her ear, tightening his already iron grip. “I won’t let any harm come to you. Would put myself between you and the world if need be, so breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”
She shook her head rapidly, her panic in overdrive, clawing at his arm to escape. “He’s gonna find me then he’ll kill me.”
“If he finds you, then he’ll find me standin’ right in front of you. I won’t let him touch you,” he vowed, his voice like a whip, dangerous and sharp. He felt her body still slightly, so he moved the hair from the side of her neck, drinking in the subtle hint of baby powder and vanilla that clung to her velvet skin, and placed a soft kiss to her pulse. “I won’t let him touch you,” he repeated over and over until, inch by inch, her body relaxed into his, softening until her head leaned onto his shoulder and her breathing was less frantic; her pulse slower.
“You mean that, don’t you?”
“I meant all of it,” James insisted, turning her in his arms while he stared into blue eyes that pulled him under until he was drowning in the shallow pools. Until Susan, he’d never felt such a raw need to protect a woman. A need to take on the world so her brow never furrowed or her heart never raced with pure panic. “Whoever this asshole is, he won’t get within an inch of you.”
“Okay,” she answered with a smile so trusting it caused his heart to skip a beat. “I’m better now. Thank you.”
He squeezed her once, leaned down and nipped her bottom lip, then kissed the tip of her nose. “Better is good, but we won’t leave until you’re ready.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, chuckling in that sweet, but husky, way she had, saying, “You’ll have to settle for better until whoever killed Sara and the other Susan are behind bars.”
He searched her face and saw her eyes weren’t frantic anymore, and decided not to treat her with kid gloves. She was stronger than she knew; it was obvious in the line of her shoulders as she shook off her panic. “Then let’s go and get this over with, we can hunker down at my place until they pick this guy up. And they will, Susan. Never doubt that. People rarely get away with murder.”
Her shoulders straightened further, then she stepped back, turned, and zipped up her overnight bag. “All right, let’s get out of here and see if we can help.”
James grabbed her bag from the bed and slung it over his shoulder, then reached out his hand to her. She took it and followed him down the hall, her stride confident. That’s my girl, James thought with pride.
As they rounded the hall into the kitchen, her phone began to ring. Susan looked at it then took a deep breath and answered.
“Hello?”
James’s spine locked when a deep voice resonated through the earpiece in a spiteful tone, loud enough for his hearing to pick up. “You were in town for three days and you didn’t call me? How are we supposed to work this out if you won’t see me?”
He knew instantly it was the ex she’d mentioned. The one who had cheated on her.
Without hesitation, he pried Susan’s fingers from the receiver and put it to his ear, ignoring her narrowed eyes and snappish tone, “I don’t need your help. I can handle him.”
He didn’t want her to have to handle him. That was his job now. To put himself in front of her and take on the world if need be. Or in this case, an asshole who was idiotic enough to step out on a woman like Susan in the first place.
“Who is this?” James growled.
There was dead air. Then, “Who is this?”
“James Mayson. Susan’s man.”
“Her man?” the asshole sputtered.
“Yeah. Her man. A man who knows a fuckin’ great thing when he’s got it in his hands and In. His. Bed. Get me? Lose this number. If I hear one word from Susan that you’re makin’ a nuisance of yourself, I’ll haul your ass into the station for stalkin’—”
“—Haul me—Jesus, you’re a cop? Look, no harm no—”
“—If she wants to talk to you, and make no mistake, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she has no reason to want to talk to you, she’ll call you.”
James hung up as the asshole rushed out, “I’ll lose her number,” then looked down at Susan, his jaw ticking with profound jealousy. “He calls back I want to know instantly.”
Susan looked at the phone then looked back at James, her lips twitching in amusement. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen, caveman. Pretty sure your ‘in his bed’ comment got the point across.”
James reached out and tagged her neck, pulling her to his mouth. “What are you doin’?” she breathed against his lips.
“Restakin’ my claim.”
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Detective Dan Pike’s expression turned calculated as he stared at a printout of a Josh Sullivan, Sara Watson’s—apparently it was her real name—boyfriend. Pike was a good-looking man, about ten years older than James, with blondish hair and gray eyes. He held an air of confidence that helped settle my nerves even more. James was right; with detectives like Pike on the case it was only a matter of time before Sullivan was caught.
After giving a thorough account of my interaction with Sara, they ran her details and found her address. Once they had that, it was just a matter of knocking on a few doors to connect the dots to who she was dating. So several hours and a few cups of coffee later, James and I were tucked safely inside the sheriff’s depar
tment, waiting to see if they could hunt down her supposed killer/boyfriend in record time.
James shifted behind me where he leaned against the wall. “You find somethin’?” he asked Detective Pike.
“This piece of,” he paused and looked at me, “work has multiple arrests for possession. He also has aliases that connect him to Rudy Jackson, one of the biggest drug traffickers in Nashville,” Pike bit out looking at James. “And considerin’ the cluster . . . issues we had the other night with that drug bust, the same night Susan here met Sara, claimin’ she smelled of fuel and burnt rubber, it occurred to me they may be connected.”
I tried and failed to hide a grin at Detective Pike trying to clean up his language.
James pushed off the wall and snatched the sheet of paper from Pike. “If your suspicions turn out to be true, we can assume Sullivan killed Sara to keep her quiet, not about leavin’ him.” He turned and looked at me. “That would explain why she didn’t want the authorities involved. If she was there, she would have been charged. It also means he’s probably after you because of what he thinks Sara may or may not have told you.”
I swallowed hard at the reminder that some asshole truly wanted me dead, but refused to succumb to panic again. James said he would protect me, and I believed him. “Then you need to find him for Sara and Susan Montgomery, and all the kids whose lives will be destroyed by the drugs he’s supplyin’.”
Pike rose as I spoke, mumbling, “Damn straight, we do,” then ripped open the door and headed down the hall.
“Sounds like this case just broke wide-open,” I said.
James placed a hand on the table in front of me, leaning on it until his face was right in front of mine. “You okay?” he asked, running fingers through my hair, then wrapping his hand around my neck, squeezing for support. His blue eyes searched mine; clearly looking for a sign I was going to panic again, and my stomach flipped pleasantly because of his concern.
“I’m great.” I smiled.
His lip twitched. “So we’ve skipped from better to great?”