by Faith Gibson
I do my best to focus on trimming Mrs. Watson’s hair as well as what she’s saying about her granddaughter. I continue trying to focus throughout the day until it’s time to go home. Only then do I allow thoughts of the stranger to fill my head with questions. What’s the worst that could happen if I give in to him? Maybe I allow the big man to have his way with me and he rocks my world. No, that won’t do, because the need to have him again would overrule all my good senses, and one night would turn into more, and then I’d be like Amanda, wanting what I can never have – my life back, away from the iron hand of a cop husband.
It’s my early night, but I don’t feel like cooking. I walk down the sidewalk to the Thai restaurant. A feeling of being watched comes over me, but there are several people milling around, so I let it go. After I place my order, I have a seat and wonder what type of food the thief likes. Would he demand she have his supper ready regardless of the long hours she works? Would he help her in the kitchen after they eat? Or would he pile his dishes in the sink, expecting her to take care of them the way Adam does? The case Adam is working on has been keeping him away every night well past time for supper, but he still expects there to be something waiting on him when he gets home. My name is called, and I pay for the food and head to my car. The feeling I’m being watched is there again, but I refuse to look around and give myself away.
I keep the pepper spray on my keychain ready, just in case. I make it to my car without incident, but I don’t let out my breath until I have the doors locked and the key in the ignition. During the drive home, I can’t shake the dread, so when I get the car parked in the driveway, I hurry into the house and lock the door. It’s times like this I wish Adam would let me get a dog. More than once, I’ve mentioned a pet, but Adam refuses.
I set the food on the kitchen counter and go change out of my work clothes into something comfortable. It doesn’t matter what I wear as far as Adam’s concerned. He never looks at me to notice. The only time he mentions my clothing is if we are going out to eat at a nice restaurant, and then he tells me how to dress. The first time I balked at the skimpy black dress that made me look like a hooker, Adam let me know with his fists who was in charge.
I still get complimented on my looks even though I’m pushing forty. I’ve taken care of myself all these years. I refuse to give my husband another reason to take his hands to me. After pulling on a short, cotton gown, I pile my long hair on top of my head in a messy bun, remove my make-up, and return to the kitchen. I separate the food onto two plates, dishing more onto Adam’s than my own. I place plastic wrap over his and stick it in the microwave where all I or he has to do is reheat it when he gets home. After pouring a glass of wine, I take my food to the living room and turn on the television.
By the time I’ve finished eating, I haven’t found anything decent to watch. I prefer to get lost in books over sitting in front of the TV night after night. I let myself imagine I’m the female character who gets swept away by the hero. That probably has a lot to do with why I’m romanticizing the thief and not telling Adam about him. I take my plate to the kitchen, and instead of putting it in the dishwasher, I put it in the sink to wash. I’ve just turned the water on when a large body pushes into mine from behind, and a gloved hand covers my mouth. The familiar scent of leather invades my nostrils as I inhale. I close my eyes and will my heart rate to slow down. The stranger startled me, but somehow I know he won’t hurt me.
He doesn’t speak. Instead, he takes advantage of my bare nape and kisses me, sucking at my skin. I hold still, praying he doesn’t put a hickey there for Adam to see. He removes his hand from over my mouth, turns the water off, and wraps his fingers around the front of my neck, squeezing just enough to let me know he’s in control. Again, I should be scared at the power he has over me, but I’m more scared he’ll stop. As he did the last time, the stranger removes the gloves from his long fingers. His right hand skims up my thigh, raising my gown as he goes. The caress of his fingertips has my nipples aching to be touched. “Adam–”
“…is in Houston,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ll never put you in harm’s way, Lexie.” His warm breath brings goosebumps to the surface of my skin. The hand that was on my thigh slides precariously close to the juncture of my legs. My panties are already wet, something that does scare me yet thrills me at the same time. When his fingers tease the elastic band of my panties, I whimper with need. I won’t allow him to fuck me, as much as I’ve thought about it. Letting him touch me at all is just as wrong as going all the way, but damn if I don’t want his touch. Crave it.
His fingers slide over my mound, cupping his hand and rubbing. Moaning at the friction, I lean my head back onto his hard chest. I wrap one hand around the wrist at my throat and with the other I grasp the back of his muscular thigh, trying to pull him closer. His hand continues its slow, torturous movements between my legs while his hard cock presses against my back. I can’t help but wonder at how it would feel deep inside me. “We shouldn’t–”
He turns my head to the side and slants his mouth over mine, cutting off my words. I open for him, longing to be kissed the way I read about in romance novels. He keeps the kiss sensual, his tongue swirling around mine as if our mouths are making love. I am not disappointed.
My head and my body war with each other. I know this is wrong on every level, yet I can’t find the words to tell him to stop. I want this. When that flutter in my stomach turns to full blown tremors, I moan into his mouth and push my body into his hand, riding it to gain more friction. The kiss strengthens in intensity, and his hand slides between the fabric and my skin. My thief’s fingers dip into my wet folds and pump as much as he can behind my panties. I’ve decided he most definitely is a thief, because he is stealing my ability to think straight. As soon as his thumb grazes my clit, I come undone, bucking against his hand. I bite his bottom lip as the orgasm claims my body, shockwave after shockwave pulsing as my release flows down my leg. The man continues his torment until I’m begging him to stop. “No more, please. I can’t…”
He slowly removes his hand from my panties, and whispers, “Fuck, but you’re beautiful when you come.” He gives me a quick kiss against my lips before he steps away. I can’t help the whimper that escapes, but this time it’s from the loss of his hands and mouth. As my breathing returns to normal, I anticipate what’s going to happen next. When nothing does, I turn to look at him, but he isn’t there. What the… “Hello?” I call out, but there’s no answer. I remain rooted to the spot in front of the sink in a daze while my body comes down from the sexual buzz the man left me with. It’s unlike anything I can remember Adam doing to me, even in our early days. When my brain is once again functioning properly, I wash the plate, dry it, and return it to the cabinet.
I make my way upstairs where I ready myself for bed, swapping out my wet panties for clean ones. As I crawl beneath the covers, I replay every second in my mind. The more I think about him, the more I want to help him find whatever it is he’s looking for so he can focus on my body while he’s here. I love the stolen moments we have, but they’re not long enough. I want them to go on for more than a few minutes. I want to touch him. I want to know what he looks like when he’s coming. It’s been a long time since I willingly gave someone a blowjob, but I find myself wanting to please him the way he does me. I smile to myself and whisper into the dark room, “Goodnight, my thief.”
Cass
I can’t stop thinking about Lexie and her words in the darkness telling me goodnight. I waited in the shadows while she washed her plate before going upstairs to bed. I was more than tempted to crawl in beside her so I could fuck her good and proper. So I could shove my face between her legs and lap up the remnants of the orgasm I gave her. Give her several more before the night was over. Goddamn, I have it bad for this woman. It’s not rational to want what I know I can’t have. It’s more than that. What I feel for her is not just my dick wanting to get sucked or fucked.
With the taste of her fresh on m
y mind, I close my eyes and fist my cock. If it wasn’t so late and I hadn’t already decided to cut sex off with her, I’d go around to Violet’s and let her take the edge off. No, it’s better I stay away from her. My hand will have to do for now.
I bring my fingers to my nose and inhale the most beautiful scent I’ve encountered since her. Lexie Murdock’s juices coated my fingers when she came from my hand. The sweet sounds she uttered were a better symphony than anything Mozart could have composed. I might have sucked my fingers clean as I left Lexie standing at the sink, but I refuse to wash my hand just yet. Some might find that sick. I find it fucking erotic as hell. If she were my woman, I’d never leave the goddamn house. And therein lies the problem. I’m not supposed to be thinking about another man’s pussy. At least not in the way I am. I’m supposed to be getting up in there for nothing more than revenge. They took her away from me, so I’m gonna take their wives. Make them mine long enough to cause trouble. That’s it. I will be walking away when it’s all said and done. I don’t have any other choice.
I don’t have room in my life for a woman. Been there. Done that. Got the fucking heartache along with a one-way ticket to hell. I think Lexie is invading my senses because it’s been so long since I felt that connection with her. Maybe my brain is trying to rekindle what we had. Lexie doesn’t necessarily look like her. Yes, she does. Okay, maybe a little. But her hair is a shade or two darker. Her eyes are brighter green, more like emeralds than the green of a pine needle in the summer. Her body is fuller, like a woman in her late thirties should be. Soft curves not hard edges. And her tits. Goddamn, she has the best fucking tits I’ve ever seen. They’re full. Perfect. I can’t wait to latch my mouth around her nipple and suck until she’s coming from that alone.
I stroke long and hard, my breathing laboring at the thought of sinking my cock into her softness. I will sink my cock inside her heavenly pussy. I have no doubt of that. I just have to be able to walk away afterwards. I circle the head of my dick with my fist, using the liquid leaking from the tip to lube my hand on the way down. I inhale her lingering scent again. Fuck, I want to bury my face between her legs and never come up for air. Like I said before, the woman is a seductress. I never thought about her this way.
My balls tighten, and the knowing pull at the base of my spine has me pumping harder. Faster. I set my feet firmly against the mattress and push up into my hand as my orgasm rips through my dick, my spunk spilling over onto my fingers. I refuse to call out her name, so I bite my bottom lip and call upon my self-control to keep from groaning. I’m sure Jared knows I jack off, but that doesn’t mean I want to subject him to the sounds of me fucking my hand. I figure I’ll get caught up for lack of sex in about five years at the rate I’m going.
I swirl the hand that was in Lexie’s pussy in the jizz on my stomach and bring it to my mouth. Licking myself clean, I imagine it’s Lexie’s tongue on my stomach instead of my hand. I’m a sick motherfucker, but I have no problem with that. Her goddamn husband made me this way. I need to get back inside their house, and I need it soon. You want to make love to her. No. Yes. Dammit. The need to be inside her is being clouded by the fact that I’m corrupting a good woman. She said no the first time. This time, I caught her unaware, and how could she resist an orgasm? She’d have to be a goddamn nun to resist getting off to a man making her feel like she’s the most important creature in the world.
Priorities.
I need to get mine straight. Fucking is one thing. Getting attached is another, and I need to nip that shit in the bud immediately. Right fucking now. I will go see Violet tomorrow to get Lexie’s scent off me. Rolling to my side, I fall asleep with my hand still smelling of heaven.
Chapter 14
Adam
Victim number five was someone the FBI had been searching for going on ten years. If their intel was correct, Tommy Nelson had kidnapped over twenty women, skinned them, and molested their bodies after they were dead. He appeared much younger than his actual age of forty-four. The same age as Adam. He’d done some corrupt shit in his life, but he couldn’t fathom the level of fucked up this was. He often accused Lexie of being dead when they had sex, but to actually stick your dick in a woman whose skin you had peeled off, that shit made Adam want to puke.
The unsub was either accelerating his timeline, or it wasn’t taking as long for his victims to be found. Two in one day was overkill. No pun intended. It made more sense that the killer had help. These victims were notorious for being elusive, and all of a sudden they were being rounded up like cattle in an enclosure. After the crime scene unit cleared the area, Adam pulled out a cigarette and sent a text off to Neil. It was late enough his partner should be home from the other scene. He pressed the send button and waited. Adam didn’t want to do this shit over text message, but he had no idea if the killer had wire-tapped his home phone. Cell phones could be as easily intercepted these days. He needed to meet up with Neil and tell him what he found, but he didn’t want to pop in unannounced in case he and Amanda were fucking. His best friend had some different sexual proclivities, and Adam had no desire to see them again. Once was enough. Adam had never again set foot in a sex club after that.
Adam did his best to rein in his temper. There was no way this was a coincidence. How the fuck did the vigilante know about what happened so long ago? Instead of finding a tarot card stapled to the victim’s chest, the man at Adam’s feet was clutching a newspaper clipping. One detailing a night thirteen years ago that Adam had done his best to forget about. With the way the paper was gripped tightly, the man had to have been alive or barely dead when the article was pushed into his hand. Adam was ready to strangle his goddamn partner. Why hadn’t he done that when he found out what happened that night instead of fucking covering for him? Because you had his back. Had, as in past tense.
He and Neil had covered their tracks in a way that the shit couldn’t be traced back to them. Adam knew it wasn’t the kid, because the killings started before he got out of prison. Briefly, he wondered about Charlie. The man was no longer a cop, and the last Adam heard, he was knee-deep in gambling debt. Then he remembered why Charlie was no longer a cop. He wanted nothing to do with his two friends. After that night, Charlie turned in his badge and told Adam and Neil to stay the fuck out of his life.
Adam needed to install a security system to catch the bastard breaking into his house, and he also needed to wipe his computer. He never should have put those case files on his home laptop in the first place. It was evidence that should have been destroyed, but Adam had wanted to keep it as insurance. His ace in the hole should his partner ever turn on him.
Whoever was breaking into his house had to be coming in during the day. Lexie got home around six, seven at the latest. Whoever it was either came in during broad daylight or was using a narrow margin between twilight and dusk. Adam also needed to canvas the neighborhood and ask if anyone suspicious had been lurking about.
By the time he finished his cigarette, Neil still hadn’t responded, so Adam decided to call instead. Neil’s voicemail picked up, but Adam didn’t leave a message. Fuck it. He’d wait until the next day when they were at work to fill him in on the latest. What he really wanted, though, was to find out if Neil’s victim had a similar calling card this time. The newspaper clipping had done a number on Adam. He was as close to freaking out as he’d been since he waited on the jury to read their verdict.
Deciding to call it a night, Adam angled his tall body into his car and headed somewhere he shouldn’t be going. He should go home. Get a drink. Eat a good meal. He might not be in love with his wife anymore, but she kept him fed. With all the shit he gave her, Lexie remained faithful, keeping him taken care of in every way except for sex.
Before he realized it, Adam was sitting a couple of houses down the street from where shit went down all those years ago. There were two cars in the driveway. The lights were on throughout the small home, proof of life going on. Adam took a deep breath and let it out, daring the memories
of that night to invade his mind. He’d kept them at bay this long, and he wouldn’t allow them to creep back in, destroying his sanity. The serial killer was doing a good enough job of that without Adam helping him out.
Adam often wondered if the shoe had been on his foot instead of Neil’s, would his partner have reacted the same way? Would Neil have helped him cover up his transgression? Would the outcome have been different if he was the one fucking around on his wife? Adam had dipped his dick in strange several times over the years, but never had he flaunted that shit in Lexie’s face. Thinking of his wife waiting at home, Adam had the rare urge to go home and take her to bed. It had been too long since he made love to her. The stress of his job kept him on edge. Sure, he fucked her, but when was the last time he made slow, gentle love to her? Leaving the reminder of the past behind, Adam put the car in drive and headed home.
Most of the lights were out when he walked into his house. He knew without looking a plate was waiting in the microwave to be heated. That could continue to wait. Adam strode upstairs to the bedroom he shared with his wife. Lexie was a beautiful woman. Unlike Amanda, she had kept her body in shape the older she got. She was already asleep, but he didn’t care. Adam removed his gun and placed it on the nightstand before shedding down to bare skin. He crawled under the covers and rolled Lexie to her back, sliding his hand between her legs, pulling her panties to the side. It didn’t take long to get her wet when he was gentle with her, so he used a soft touch between her folds.
When Lexie’s eyes fluttered open, she couldn’t hide the fear quick enough. It was there, and Adam didn’t miss it. He stretched out over her, spreading her legs so he could slide his cock deep inside. He didn’t bother to remove her panties. Instead, he wedged his dick between the fabric and her pussy, using the extra friction as a bonus. He kept his eyes on her face as he slowly eased in and out instead of giving her the hard pounding she was used to. Her frown faded as she closed her eyes and clutched at his arms. Lexie didn’t wrap her long legs around his hips like she used to do in their early days, pulling him deeper inside. Back when she’d begged him to give her a baby. Lexie would have made a wonderful mother, but it wasn’t something Adam could give her. Literally. He should have told her before they got married he wasn’t able to father children, but he’d wanted her too badly. So he kept that bit of information from her, too much of a coward to admit the truth to her. Instead, he told her he didn’t want kids the first time she mentioned it.