Her calm acceptance of their intimacy pleased Daniel. After stifling a yawn, he nudged Cecily who hadn’t said a thing in fifteen minutes. She stirred and when she spoke her voice sounded sleepy. “What is it?”
“Bedtime, querida,” he said. “You’re asleep already.”
“I’m not,” she protested.
He laughed. “Don’t make me carry you to bed in front of Mama.”
His remark roused her enough to rise, stop off in the bathroom, and then make it into the bedroom. Luz announced she’d retire too and Daniel kissed his mother’s cheek, a good-night ritual from the past. He lingered in the living room and spent a few minutes one on one with his brother. Although they’d been a little awkward earlier, the strangeness vanished and beneath the collegiate veneer, Daniel discovered the man his little brother had become. And he liked him. Michael came across as intelligent and yet somehow tough. He hadn’t lost the edge growing up in north Fort Worth provided.
Demonstrating a deep insight, Michael said, “How much trouble is she in?”
“Cecily?” Daniel replied as if it could be anyone else. “She’s potentially in deep shit if we can’t prove who’s really responsible for her husband’s death and some major theft.”
“How will all of it affect your career?” his brother asked. A faint frown line marred his forehead.
Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe very badly. It depends on how it ends. If we can connect the man Cecily believes responsible with credible evidence, then all my awards and accolades won’t be wasted. If not, who knows?”
“I like your woman,” Michael said. “Is she worth it?”
“Si,” he said. “She’s worth that and so much more.”
Michael studied him as if seeking to understand, then nodded as if he did. “I’m happy for you, Daniel, and I hope things work out for the best. If I can do anything, say the word and I’m happy to help you. I planned to drive home tomorrow, but I have several weeks until the semester begins so I can stay as long as I’m needed.”
Moved by his brother’s offer, Daniel clasped his brother’s hand. “Thank you. Right now, I don’t know what you could do, but if it changes, I may take you up on your offer. Right now, do you think Mama might have some tequila around?”
“I don’t know,” Michael said. “But we can find out. I know where to look.”
A few shots of tequila later, Daniel enjoyed the buzz it provided. His college professor kid brother matched him drink for drink and although neither were drunk, he couldn’t deny they’d been affected. Thunder grumbled low and ominous far off in the distance. When he heard it, he thought of Cecily’s fears. “Is it supposed to storm?”
“Yeah, it’s a ninety percent chance. Let’s go watch it move in.”
As children, they often watched wicked weather approach Fort Worth and with a boyish exhilaration fueled at least in part by tequila Daniel jumped up. “Yeah, sounds great.”
They sat on the small porch steps and gazed toward the mountains. Lightning illuminated the sky with its unholy fire and the thunder growls moved closer like an animal prowling. Just as a sharp wind portended the storm’s arrival, Cecily poked her head out of the front door. A modest nightgown covered her from shoulder to knee, a cotton print peasant style gown. Daniel didn’t remember it and realized she’d always slept in the buff beside him. He appreciated her concession to decency in his mother’s home, but he missed the view as well.
“Is it storming?” she asked as he stumbled to his feet.
“It will, soon,” Daniel said. “Did the thunder wake you?”
“I think so,” Cecily said.
He studied her face but she didn’t look scared at the moment, no more than a bit nervous. “Are you okay?” he asked.
A grin lit her face, bright and brief as the lightning. Cecily nodded. “Yeah, sugar, just a little anxious. I’m not as afraid of storms when I’m not out in the middle of one and I’m inside. Are you coming in?”
Aware she wanted him to, he nodded. “Yeah, chica, I am. Buenos Noches, Michael.”
“’Night,” his brother said.
With his arm slung across Cecily’s shoulders, Daniel went inside and down the short hallway. As he’d waited long hours to do, he shut the door and faced her. One finger traced the fine curve of her cheek then outlined her lips. “Te amo, querida,” he whispered. “Are you too sleepy to love me?”
“Uh-uh,” she said. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Daniel stripped away his shirt and stepped out of his jeans. He paused long enough to open the window in the stuffy room and cool, fresh air poured into the space. Contrast between the temperatures created goose pimples across his skin and heightened his senses. Maybe the tequila played a small role, but the major game changer stood before him, nude and lovely. She’d removed her gown while he turned to the window and now she put her arms around him. Her braids trailed across his arm and he shivered. Then he took her face between his hands and put his mouth down onto hers.
Her lips were hot and tasted sweet as they met his and clung in place. He kissed her long and deep, enough to cause his breath to come short. Desire spun out between them, full-bodied and heady as wine. Daniel wrapped one arm around her to bring her closer and with his free hand he stroked her nipples until they blossomed like June roses. His fingers moved with a light, easy touch, reverent and yet needy. Last time they made love, he’d called out his feelings, but he never dreamed she’d understand what he’d said. Things were different now. Aware of their shared love, Daniel wanted to make each caress and every stroke matter.
He cupped her breasts and bent to kiss each one, then the hollow between. His lips trailed upward to the base of her throat and lingered. Daniel kissed her throat and worked back to her lips. He then delivered a long, slow smooch, one reverberating to his toes. If Cecily’s response, a loud gasp and her hands tightening around his shoulders were an indication, it lit her fires, too.
Daniel rubbed the flat of her belly and dropped his hand lower to her mound. He caressed the fine hair there and used one finger to probe her pussy. Wet warmth greeted his explorations and he massaged with the rest of his hand, finger touching back to fondle her clit. She moaned with a low, deep sound of pleasure which inspired him to increase the friction.
His cock, already stiff, hardened more in response and almost hurt with need. He wanted to play it out, though, make the intense desire last longer. If he could hold out, the release would be greater, so he steeled himself to wait.
Cecily almost brought things to swift closure when she nibbled his neck, her teeth sharp and yet somehow tender. Her lips suckled his skin and he knew he’d end up with a purple love bite, but he didn’t mind. The sensation sent electric shocks through his body and caused his dick to throb with want.
Cecily cupped his balls in her hand next and then wrapped one hand around his swollen prick. A groan escaped his lips and it took all he had not to come in her grasp. Gasping, he backed her toward the bed and she caught on to what he wanted. She sprawled onto her back with her legs open wide for his assault, her hands clutching the bedspread tight and taut into bunches.
“Oh, sugar,” she said. “Come on, take me all the way.”
By then he didn’t need an invitation. His dick refused to wait any longer so when she wrapped her legs around his body, Daniel entered her. He slid into her pussy without difficulty. Cecily’s body embraced and welcomed him. The walls of her cunt wrapped his shaft with warmth and squeezed. Thrills rocketed through him and he worked back and forth. Cecily managed to rub his back, then used her nails to scratch with tantalizing sensation. They rocked together, her small moans punctuating his occasional groan of pleasure and then everything began to shift toward release.
Rising pressure delivered intense pleasure, close to pain and then as fever heat enveloped Daniel, he knew he’d come soon. “Ride it with me,” he told Cecily.
“Oh, yeah, sugar,” she gasped. The explosion began in his dick and burst outward with wild delicious sensati
ons. His body spasmed with erotic delight and their bodies in the final moments were one orgasm.
When the thrill subsided Daniel collapsed beside her, drained yet filled with emotion for this woman. “I love you, querida,” he said, one hand stroking lazy circles over her skin.
“Oh, God, I love you, too,” Cecily said and curled her head against his chest. Her cornrows tickled his arm as they tumbled in disarray. He liked the sensation. Sated, content, and tired, Daniel relaxed and listened as her breath drifted into a slower pattern.
Outside rain fell steady and the sound lulled him to sleep. Just before he drifted off Daniel heard Cecily’s cell phone ring, but he didn’t try to catch the call. Whatever Nia wants, it can wait until morning.
But instead he woke some time later to the sound of Cecily’s voice. Daniel sat up and rubbed his eyes. Listening to her end of the conversation, he caught enough information to realize it might be a serious development and came fully awake with speed.
Cecily’s brown sugar voice cut through the dark room as she finished the call, seated on the edge of the bed with her back toward him. “Keep me updated, you hear? And don’t take any chances, Nia.”
Tension strung her voice thin as barbed wire. Daniel touched her shoulder. “What is it?”
“Nia,” she said with a sigh. “She said she’s been trying to call, but I never heard the phone ‘till now. She thought she saw Johnson Hamilton in Branson, outside Pink Neon when she closed last night. It spooked her—and she doesn’t even know what we suspect.”
“I can see where it would,” he said. “From what you’ve said, he’s not a nice guy.”
“No, he’s not.” His bubble of contentment evaporated into the ether. “He must be looking for you.”
Her laugh lacked humor and rattled like dry leaves in a November gutter. “Yeah, I’d say he must be, sugar. And any reasons I can think of why aren’t good ones.”
“Me either.” Everything he could figure involved a final and fatal silence.
“So what do we do?” Cecily hugged her torso with her arms as if she had chills or a tummy ache.
Good question but he didn’t have an instant answer. “Nothing, yet,” he said after consideration. “I planned to do some research on the bastard’s whereabouts tomorrow, see if we could trace where he’s been since Willard got killed, but if he’s in Branson, it puts a different slant on things. We need to find something to tie him to the murder and theft, something solid. If we could nail him with the jewels or get a confession with witnesses, it’d clear anything against you and put him away where he won’t be a problem.”
She made an odd, wordless distress cry. Daniel moved so he sat beside her on the edge of the bed and put his arm around her. “I’ll keep you safe, querida,” he said. “And we’ll see this thing through.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to Nia,” she said, her voice as fragile as shattered glass. “I shouldn’t have asked her to come to Branson.”
Daniel wanted to assure her nothing bad could befall her cousin, but he couldn’t. So he dug for confirmation instead. “She’s sure it was Hamilton? She knows him?”
“Oh, yeah,” Cecily said with a ragged half-laugh. “He hates Nia almost as much as he does me. She knows him from when she’d come to see me. He tried his damnest to get rid of her but never could.”
As he considered options and plans of action, Daniel wondered if his superiors knew he’d gone absent without leave yet. He suspected they did and wouldn’t be pleased if he phoned in to request protection for Nia. He needed something concrete, facts beyond Cecily’s instincts about a man she loathed. Anxiety returned, racing through his veins until his shoulders tightened. An invisible hand restricted full access to his airways, and his head ached with a dull pain. Daniel wished he could lie down, sleep another few hours, but he knew he’d never relax enough to rest.
“What time is it?” he asked Cecily.
“A little after four,” she said. “Do you want to go back to bed?”
Daniel shook his head. “I can’t.” He planned to get up, shower, dress, make coffee and form a plan before he remembered they were at his mom’s house. He couldn’t do any of it without rousing Mama and he didn’t want to disturb her sleep. Or involve her in the situation or cause worry. “Do you want to sleep, querida?”
She leaned against him and nodded her head. “Yeah, I do. I’m tired and I don’t feel very well.”
Concern for her diminished the other, larger issues at hand. “Are you sick?”
“I don’t think so, sugar,” Cecily said after a pause. “I’m just stressed, tired, and scared. Come lie with me, would you?”
He couldn’t refuse her so they settled back into bed. Daniel curled behind her and held Cecily in his arms. Her rigid muscles gradually relaxed, but the way she pulled her knees up made him think maybe her stomach hurt. He put his hand over her belly and she sighed.
“That feels good,” she said. “Leave it, okay?”
“Sure,” he promised, his suspicion confirmed. Long before dawn, she slept, but he stared at the walls. He plotted and pondered. Daniel, tight as a coiled spring, untangled from Cecily when he heard the house begin to come to life. His mother’s footsteps padded down to the bathroom and back, her slippers slapping against the hardwood floors with a familiar rhythm. He heard Michael stir and greet her. When he caught the aroma of coffee, he got out of bed and dressed, careful not to wake Cecily.
By the time he walked into the small kitchen, his mother poured her first cup of coffee and startled when she saw him. “Mi hijo, I didn’t know you were up so early. It’s just now six o’clock.”
“Yeah, I’ve been awake awhile.” He hoped she still brewed coffee strong. From the looks of the same silver percolator on the counter, he thought she must. “Cecily’s still asleep, though.”
“Come drink coffee with your brother and me,” Luz said. “C’mon, we’ll sit at the table.”
Michael slouched over his mug and grinned. “Don’t tell me the tequila was too much for you.”
“Huh?”
Luz frowned. “I wondered, too. Yesterday, you looked like a man on vacation, but now you look more like you’re on death row. Did something happen?”
Daniel sighed. Damn, he couldn’t fool his near and dear after all. “There may be a situation developing in Branson,” he said. “Cecily’s cousin called her in the middle of the night.”
His mother’s blue eyes clouded. “It’s dangerous.” It wasn’t a question and he cringed when he noticed she had a faraway distant expression. Catholic to the core, she sometimes claimed to have visions, a gift handed down through the bloodline by her Comanche grandmother. “Daniel, you have to be careful.”
Pressure and maternal concern were exactly what he didn’t need. Before he could unscramble his brains to reply, he heard the unmistakable sound of Cecily screaming.
Damn it to hell, this day, no matter what happen, was destined to suck. He said nothing as he pushed back his chair and went to check on his querida.
Chapter Seventeen
The scream clawed out of her belly and up her throat, raw and unstoppable. Cecily didn’t wake until after she started shrieking and although she knew where she was, she couldn’t stop. Disjointed images haunted her, terrible scenes from her nightmare but they jumbled together. Terror lingered and so did the crimson blood from the dream. Daniel burst into the room with such speed he almost tripped. “Querida, what’s wrong?”
“I dreamed something bad,” she said, aware she sounded like a little girl. Then she burst into tears, fast and furious. She lunged forward and he scooped her into his arms, dragging the covers into a tangle.
“It’s all right,” he said. He cradled her against his chest and she heard the rapid rate of his heartbeat. She guessed she’d just scared the shit out of him. Didn’t do a whole lot of good for me, either. “You just had a dream, that’s all.”
Cecily tossed her head back and forth. “No,” she said with force. “It’s
more than that. Nia’s in trouble or something. And you’re in danger, too.”
Daniel’s dark eyes burned as he gazed into her face. “First Mama, now you,” he muttered.
“I don’t understand.”
He sighed. “I doubt I do either. So, you get these psychic feelings, huh?”
“I don’t like it but yeah, sometimes, I do,” Cecily said. It wasn’t something she liked to admit. “Always have. My mom said it must be gypsy blood or something.”
“So does Mama,” Daniel said. “Just before you started screaming, she must’ve had one. She said there’s danger. In her case, it’s a genetic gift from her Comanche grandma.”
“You don’t believe me?”
This time he shut his eyes before he exhaled hard. “I do,” he said in a harsh voice. “That’s the trouble. I do believe both of you and it scares the piss out of me. I think things are about to get ugly.”
On cue her cell phone rang, the tune shrill and insistent. Foreboding sucked the air out of her lungs as she fumbled to grab it from the bedside table. “Hello?”
Nia’s voice sounded fainter than stone washed denim. “Cecily, it’s me. I got to tell you something...”
Daniel bent closer to listen as Cecily said, “What’s the matter?”
“He’s here.”
“Who?”
“Johnson fucking Hamilton!” Nia said just before Cecily heard the sound of a slap and her cousin’s screeched, “Ouch, asshole!”
“What’s going on?” Cecily cried. “Nia?”
“It’s me,” a dark voice, bass and harsh said into her ear. “I need to see you, bitch eyes. I got to settle up with you so you need to come home.”
“Fuck you,” Cecily said. “You leave Nia alone and come find me.”
“If you want to see this cunt alive, you’d better come running,” Johnson said. “We’ll be at your little shop. You’ve got twelve hours so hurry or I kill her just like I did Willard. Show up by six-thirty this evening or it’s over.”
Her body trembled against her will and she couldn’t make it quit. Her lips opened and closed twice before she could shove words out. “I’ll be there,” she said. “Don’t hurt her.”
Pink Neon Dreams Page 19