Out of the Blue

by Dee J. Adams

  “Don’t see that as an issue,” he gritted out.

  She smiled when she lowered his boxer briefs. She ended up holding his very erect dick in her hand and watching him with aqua eyes. Brendan thought his heart might bust through his rib cage.

  “Believe it or not, this is more for me than for you,” she said.

  He laughed at that. Shook his head. “Not sure I belie— Ah!” She squeezed the base and licked the tip at the same time and Brendan nearly lost his mind. Every nerve ending came alive in a massive rush. “Whatever you say,” he managed. He fisted the couch cushion in a white knuckle hold.

  She smoothed the drop of moisture at the tip around and around before licking it off. The sparkle in her eyes almost set him off. The way she watched him absolutely destroyed him.

  “I’m not going to last two minutes if you keep this up.”

  She licked the entire length and Brendan dropped his head back into the cushions, holding off on the urge to push…or beg. There was something about having a beautiful woman on her knees, between your legs, her mouth doing unbelievable things… He definitely needed a distraction before she undid him. Leaning to his right, he scooped her up at the waist and pulled her on top of him upside down.

  “Don’t mind me,” he said, making quick work of the button and zipper on her jeans. He only got them partially down, just far enough to get to that sweet spot he wanted so badly.

  She moaned as he licked into her. He groaned as she sucked him into her mouth.

  Casey strained against the denim pinning her legs together, and all that taut muscle drove Brendan closer to the edge. She was too sexy. Since he wasn’t going to last, he worked extra hard to make sure she went over the edge when he did. He lashed at her clit over and over alternately sucking and nibbling, working her up until she detonated. Her internal muscles clenched at the same time she moaned and the vibration ran through his dick like an electric current. His muscles tensed and his balls tightened up. The suction was too much to fight and his climax hit him like a sledgehammer. He groaned, felt the heat of Casey’s mouth as he unloaded. Stars blinked behind his closed eyes and he barely managed to suck air into his fried lungs.

  He had no clue how many minutes they lay there, breathing hard. He just knew he loved the intimacy. “Mother of God,” he whispered against her thigh. It didn’t get much better than that. He gave one last kiss over her tight little nub and she gasped before moving off him.

  After fixing her jeans, she sat in front of him on the floor, their faces close together since he was still laid out on the sofa. “You surprised me.” She licked her lips before giving him a gentle kiss.

  He chuckled. “You’re the one doing the surprising. That was pretty fucking amazing.”

  She nodded. “It was, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

  That stumped him.

  A smile curved her lips and a blush stained her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. When she met his gaze, he saw the same confidence he’d seen during their night together in Hawaii. He wasn’t sure what just happened, but he liked it.

  “You taste good,” she whispered. Brendan didn’t think anything could get him hard any time soon, but that statement did it. “You have no idea what this means,” she added.

  Maybe not…but a guy could hope.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  He watched the guy pull up and walk down the street to the studio. He had an unexpected confidence about him. Maybe this thing would go off as planned. Depended on how capable this man really was…and just how badly he wanted Casey dead.

  The man he’d hired to break into the studio and disable all the video cameras was waiting by the garbage bin out back. At this point, the only thing left to do was to climb the fire escape and enter from the door access on the roof. Much easier to do that than risk people seeing them on the street level. It was nice of the owners to build a deck up there. Probably made it easier to watch the yearly Hollywood Parade. Idiots.

  Now he just had to hope the guy did as he was told. Get into the building and remove Casey from the building. Simple. Whether Casey was dead or not before he got her out was a non-issue, as long as the guy got dead done.

  The dude disappeared around the building right on schedule at eight forty-five. So far so good. Time ticked by and seven minutes later he got a text from his guy: He’s in. I’m outta here. Will expect payment in my account by tonight.

  He texted back: Count on it.

  Now all he had to do was make sure Casey showed up on time, then he was gone too. No sense in getting spotted. He reached for the glove compartment and took out a little bit of something to celebrate the occasion. He checked the street for cops then poured a small line on the back of a clipboard he had stashed behind his seat. He sniffed the line then repeated the process on the other side. He wiped his nose and leaned his head back, taking a second to let the drug work its magic.

  Perfect. Just what he needed to pass the time.

  Twenty minutes later, Casey did show up, towing her idiot boyfriend. She looked hot in tight jeans and heels and his groin tightened. His reaction pissed him off. Too bad the boyfriend wasn’t part of the deal today, but bad blood with the producer kept him at a decent distance.

  They said good-bye at the truck and Casey buzzed the door to get in.

  He held his breath, waiting to see if the idiot had followed directions and knew how to let her in. She hit the buzzer a second time and his pulse spiked. If this asshole fucked up—

  The door opened. Finally. His pulse picked up.

  Showtime.

  Still riding her Brendan high on Monday morning, Casey enjoyed the warm sun as she strode toward the studio and thought about yesterday. It hadn’t taken long to discover that Brendan had overdone it on the sofa and his shoulder was killing him, so she’d played nurse all night and made sure he was comfortable. And because she still didn’t have enough balls to sleep in his bed in his parents’ house, they’d said goodnight in the hallway and went their separate ways.

  It had been a night of revelations for her. Vic would probably pass out from shock if she ever found out Casey participated in a sixty-nine. Casey hadn’t intended to do what she did to him on the sofa. But seeing how much he loved her touch and how much he needed her absolutely lit her fuse. She’d wanted all of him…and loved getting him. The experience had been completely new and totally earth shattering. The intimacy astounded her…as had her orgasm. She kept replaying those few minutes in her head before finally going to sleep. She couldn’t wait to do it again.

  But if she planned to get any work done today, she needed to get Brendan out of her head and focus on the music. Hopefully whatever Miles had to tell her wasn’t going to interfere with the songs she’d written over the weekend.

  She buzzed the door and looked around, didn’t recognize the lone car parked in the lot, but it was in front of the other building thirty yards behind her. For a second, she wondered if she’d gotten the time wrong, but someone finally let her inside. She walked in with a quick glance to the man. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if anyone was here or not. Are you Charlie?” He wore a baseball cap and sunglasses. His scraggly beard was probably in fashion, but Casey wasn’t a fan of the look.

  “Right this way,” he said, avoiding her question.

  Whatever. People seemed to be getting ruder and ruder. She followed him into an office she hadn’t been in yet. A big oak desk and leather chair sat off the left and dark blinds shaded the room from bright morning sun. She turned in the middle of the room and faced the man.

  “Is Miles running late?” she asked.

  He closed the door and locked it. The snick was like a switch to her heart. The tiniest sound that meant the biggest trouble. She quit breathing, her pulse skyrocketed and hair prickled on her nape.

  TROUBLE! PANIC!

  NO!

  Stay calm. Get out! She didn’t recognize this man, but he wasn’t as big as Jeff, which gave her more confidence.

  It
all happened in a split second and before he turned around, she advanced, shoved him sideways as hard as she could, unlocked the door and ran like hell down the hall. Air barely flowed into her lungs and she gulped it in as she ran, her heels slowing her down. She got to the door and tried to yank it open, nearly dislocating her shoulder when the damn thing didn’t budge. That’s when she remembered the large green button she had to hit on the wall to open the lock. A security precaution that just might get her killed.

  Casey heard him behind her as she slammed her palm on the green disk on the wall. She just got the door opened when he crashed into her, knocking her full force into the door. The whole glass panel shook and for a second, Casey thought the thing might shatter, but it stayed intact. Kept her trapped.

  Air whooshed from her lungs as he pinned her hard against the glass and twisted her right arm hard behind her back. Pain shot up her shoulder. “Don’t make this tougher than it has to be,” he growled in her ear, his breath hot and rank against her cheek.

  She didn’t know how to get free and not break her arm, and he forced her back down the hallway. Her heart banged against her ribs and fire ripped through her arm. “Why are you doing this? Who are you?” She had to buy time somehow until Miles showed up. Unless… Oh God. “This was a lie to get me here early. Miles isn’t coming, is he?”

  “You’re smart for a dead lady.”

  She struggled against his hold, tried to slow his momentum. “Stop! Stop!”

  He threw her into a back studio, where she stumbled and landed on the ground. He stood at the door and fished out a phone from his pocket. He’d lost his glasses in the struggle and something about his eyes looked familiar.

  “Mitch,” she whispered. Jeff had been right. “What are you doing? This is crazy!”

  He glared at her with nothing but hatred in his eyes. “I’ve got her,” he said into the phone. He pulled a knife from his back pocket and every bit of spit in Casey’s mouth dried up like the state of California. She stood on wobbly legs and looked around for something, anything that might work as a weapon. A microphone stand was only a few feet away. Better than nothing.

  Mitch grunted some response over the line then disconnected. He advanced two steps toward her.

  “Why are you doing this, Mitch? The show is over. It’s done.”

  “You fucking stole my dream, that’s why? You took me out before I even had a shot to show those assholes what I can do! I was the best songwriter on that show and I never got the chance…” His face turned red and rage distorted his features.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” she yelled. “Besides, I didn’t even really win. Brendan St. John won. You never went after…” But he did. He’d shot them both at her apartment. “Look, Mitch, just because you got knocked out the first night doesn’t mean you were going to win the whole thing. I wouldn’t have won if Brendan hadn’t been disqualified.”

  “You’re not listening to me! I could’ve won it! I should’ve won it! My whole life, people have been telling me I should be writing music. I should be singing my songs! But no one heard my songs! That’s your fault! No one else’s, just yours!” He came toward her.

  Casey bolted for the microphone stand. Instead of trying to pull it back, she used her momentum to swing it around. She nailed Mitch in the shoulder and knocked him off balance. Making a run for the door, she got as far as the hallway before he was behind her again, tackling her full force to the ground.

  The knife? Where was the knife? It was the only thing her brain could focus on. She needed a miracle in the next five seconds or she was dead.

  Brendan’s mobile rang as he waited outside the studio, and Blake’s name flashed on the screen. “Yo,” he said, answering the call. “What’s up?”

  “We got something…found a link between Mitch and one of the crew members on the show,” Blake said, by way of greeting. “Turns out one of the day checkers is an old schoolmate of Mitch’s. We found a withdrawal from Mitch’s account for two grand that very conveniently coincided with a deposit for the same amount on the exact date of the first accident with the lighting rig. Same with the set wall. Kevin Andrews is our suspect. We called the police so they’re checking him out now. It also turns out that Mitch is a mechanic by trade, so he’s a good bet for the car bomb. We should have more info later today.”

  “Wow. Nice job, bro.” Finally! Maybe the end of this whole fiasco was near. Of course, the police just had to pick up both men, but he had faith that Blake could find either one of them if they tried to run. “Looks like I owe you big.”

  “Music to my ears.” Blake laughed. “Catch you later, I need to run.” He disconnected before Brendan got a word out.

  The relief rushing through Brendan fizzled out as he checked his watch. Miles was late. For a guy who lived by his clock and insisted on a schedule, it seemed very out of character. Five minutes late for Miles was like an hour late for anyone else.

  An uneasy feeling settled in Brendan’s gut. He glanced at the building just in time to notice the door open, then slam shut hard enough to shake all the glass in four front panels. For a second, Brendan thought it was a trick of the sun’s glare, but instinct kicked in. He cranked the engine, pulled into street traffic and made a hard right up the inclined driveway. Casey had told him about the security in the building. Dark tinted windows made it impossible to see through the glass.

  Brendan’s motto when it came to Casey and her security was Act Now, Ask Questions Later.

  Instead of even attempting to get in the front door the old fashioned way, he used the only sure fire method of entry. He laid on the gas and drove through. It only dawned on him a second before impact that Casey might be standing at one of those dark windows so he slammed on the brakes at contact.

  Glass shattered in a huge explosion. His air bag blew up and smacked his face. Pain shot up his chin, and white dust temporarily blinded him. He heard Casey screaming as he ejected from his seat and tore through a smoky haze. Spotting her struggling with a man in the hallway, he sprinted forward, ditching the sling as he ran. A second later, he yanked the guy off her and threw him into the wall. Hot pain roared through his shoulder.

  The glint of a knife flashed a second before Brendan got his hand on the man’s wrist and stopped the momentum. Every muscle strained as he fought the guy. If he’d been using his good hand, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but his bad arm was still weak and not nearly ready for this type of action. The guy swiped his leg and caught Brendan off balance and they both toppled. Brendan never let go of the guy’s wrist and the knife loomed inches from his face. Sweat popped from every pore as he struggled, his jaw clenched tight. Fear roared through his veins along with adrenaline. He didn’t have any leverage, didn’t have—

  Somehow Casey was there, adding her weight to the guy’s arm and forcing his hand back. The guy—shit, it was Mitch—screamed and fought harder, his eyes wide and wild as the odds shifted.

  “Drop the fucking knife,” Brendan warned through gritted teeth.

  Casey shifted and did something, because Mitch screamed and dropped the knife. He threw the same arm back and connected with Casey’s stomach hard as he rolled off Brendan. She went down with a gasp and a second later, Mitch came up with a gun. Brendan pounced before the guy could aim, then he grabbed Mitch’s hand and shifted the barrel of the small gun away from him.

  “Casey, run!” Brendan yelled, wanting her gone. But she didn’t leave him; she got to her feet, ready to help as she had with the knife. Slowly the gun turned, and Brendan strained to get it out of Mitch’s grasp. “Drop it, asshole. Drop the g—”

  The gun went off. Exploded in an instant and took most of Mitch’s head with it.

  Casey recoiled, landed flat on her ass and Brendan, too, jumped back and off the guy. Blood was everywhere…the walls, their clothes, the floor. Brendan’s heart beat so hard he thought he might puke from the pressure.

  Sirens sounded from a distance and he finally looked at Casey.

&nb
sp; She was as pale as the white sands in Hawaii. Blood streaked her clothes and face, just like him. With her eyes wide and panicked, she visibly shook.

  “Case.” Brendan didn’t know what to say, what to do. Mitch lay between them. “Are you okay?” Such a stupid question, but he needed to know if she was injured aside from the obvious shock.

  “He opened the door for me, but there was never any meeting.” She sounded miles away. “It was a setup. It’s Mitch. From the show. Just like Jeff said. It’s Mitch.”

  Brendan stood up on rubbery legs and stepped over the body. He pulled Casey into his arms and held her so she couldn’t stare at the gore. “It’s okay. It’s okay now. It’s over. He can’t hurt you anymore.” She nodded and it ripped Brendan in two to feel her shaking in his arms. “You’re safe now.”

  Police stormed the destruction with guns drawn. Brendan had no choice but to let Casey go and they raised their hands to show they had no weapons. They made their way outside where an ambulance had pulled up along with two fire trucks.

  Too bad the cavalry hadn’t gotten here before the gun went off. The only thing Brendan knew for certain was that his finger never touched the trigger.

  Police separated them to take their statements so Brendan still didn’t know what Casey had endured before he got there. He noticed a nice bruise forming on her cheek and fresh rage burned him up inside.

  At least it was over. That was the only good thing about this whole day. Casey was safe.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Casey gently patted her face dry before hazarding a glance at her reflection. She didn’t have much color in her skin…with the exception of the giant bruise on her cheek. She wasn’t even sure when that happened. Maybe when Mitch tackled her in the hallway? Or when he slammed her against the glass door. Didn’t really matter. It was only another in a long line of aches and pains from Monday.