One Taste of You (One Taste #1)

by Amanda Siegrist

"My body might be overly sensitive, but I can't go without having you. Nine months is a long time," she said with a laugh. Her smiled dimmed a bit. "You love me. You say it all the time."

  "Of course I do. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

  "It's not just sex or—"

  He brushed a finger over her lips to stop whatever nonsense she was about to say. "Is the sex we have amazing? Damn right it is. But I love you for who you are. Not just your body. Which is delectably sinful, I might add," he said with a devious grin. "There's something between us and it's not just sex. Maybe that's what brought us together, but the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were something special. I didn't know you'd be the love of my life, but I know now. I love you. And I always will."

  "My track record with men is nothing to brag about. I guess I worry."

  "You have enough to worry about. Don't worry over something that needs no worry," he said firmly, almost pressing his lips in a tight line. Suddenly, his lips curled into a bright smile. "Now, we might as well make me really late for work."

  He lifted her up and slowly lowered her down onto his hard erection as she wrapped her legs around him. He sighed in true satisfaction. "I will always gladly be late for work if I get to do this every morning."

  He smiled as he rocked her up and down, holding her tightly against the wall, pushing as deep as he could go. She moved her mouth to his neck and kissed him as his thrusts became faster, harder. Her kisses turned into sucking on his neck, the pleasure so euphoric. He never had a woman cling to him in such a way, latching on as if she would slip away. Pain and a mixture of pleasure erupted as she bit down lightly.

  A painful moan escaped, but he didn't stop until the desire was so intense they came together into a beautiful harmony. Her lips lingered, then faintly moved away from his neck. He waited until she leaned her head against the wall and glanced into his bright blue eyes.

  "You bit me, you little minx," he said with a laugh.

  Her eyes went wide with shock. "I did?"

  His laugh got louder. "Yeah, you did. I kinda liked it."

  She shyly chuckled, clearly embarrassed. She glanced at his neck, her lips turning into a stunned expression. "You might not when you look in the mirror."

  His brows went into contemplation. "Why?"

  "Do you own any turtlenecks?"

  "Turtlenecks? Hell, no. Do I look like a turtleneck kind of guy?"

  "Maybe you should own some. I might've left a small mark," she said softly, giving him a hopeful smile.

  "You left a small mark like a...a hickey?" he asked, surprised.

  "Umm...yeah."

  He stared at her stone-faced, then curled his mouth into a grin. "Sort of like branding me. You can mark me up all you want. Like I said, I kinda liked it."

  She laughed, pressing her face back into his neck and lightly kissed where she bruised him. "You should get ready for work now. How about you let me down and I'll make you some coffee?"

  He sighed, still hating the thought of leaving her. "If I have to."

  He gently lowered her down, making sure she was steady on her feet, considering he felt a little unstable himself. Those pleasuring tingles still coursed through his body, making him think he'd feel them all day. That's how great he felt. "You wanna shower with me?"

  She patted him on the ass, quickly pulled the curtain open, and stepped outside of the shower before he could argue. "I think not. You'll never make it to work if I do."

  She left without waiting for a response. He closed the curtain, quickly showered, and hopped out to tackle shaving as fast as he could. He wiped the mirror clear of the steam and almost grimaced in horror at the large hickey displayed on his neck. There was absolutely no way he could hide that.

  Damn it. He did need a turtleneck.

  Although, he didn't care how many hickey's she gave him. He would never wear a turtleneck.

  His grimace turned into a smirk. The way she held onto him, gripping him tighter, and then biting down. The elation that coursed through him could never be forgotten. He would do it again. In fact, he couldn't wait for her to do it again. The only thing that had him grimacing once more was the thought of Ben's witty remarks he would dish out. He'd endure anything for his Zoe.

  He quickly shaved, brushed his teeth, got dressed, and met Zoe in the kitchen ten minutes later. She held out a coffee mug for him and a bagel slathered with cream cheese.

  "Your to-go breakfast is ready."

  "You're spoiling me this morning. I might expect it every morning from now on," he said, grabbing the coffee, bagel, and a quick kiss.

  "I find that I enjoy spoiling you," she said, ushering him to the front door. "I hate that you're going to be late and that you have that mark on your neck. Now everyone will know why you were late." She opened the door.

  "I like my love mark. You should place a few more in other unseen areas," he said with a wink.

  She giggled. "You'd like that, huh?"

  "Oh, how I'm gonna spoil you tonight," he said, grabbing another kiss. He gave her another sweet, honey-filled wink and walked out the door.

  He set his coffee mug on top of the car and opened the door. Grabbing for the mug, he turned to her with a smile, and climbed in. He set his mug and bagel down on the center console and leaned his head out of the car, holding onto the door. "I love you, Zoe."

  A slow smile crept on her face as she started to close the door. "I love you, Zeke."

  The door firmly closed after those words slipped from her lips. He lost his grip on the car door and slightly fell down. Heart pounding like a jackhammer, he straightened back into his seat.

  Shit.

  Did she just say what he thought she said? She loved him. She finally said it back—and shied away from him by closing the door.

  It didn't matter. She said it and he'd hear it again tonight. He'd love her body up and down until she uttered those beautiful words again.

  He grabbed the door handle with a shaky hand and closed it. He didn't get a good swing and had to open and close it one more time before he heard the door close securely.

  Complete numbness. Combined with pleasure. How in the hell would he make it through the day?

  Surprised that he got the key in the ignition the first time, his hands still shook like crazy as he backed out of the driveway. He couldn't believe she threw that bombshell on him. Especially as he was climbing into his car to leave.

  He couldn't even enjoy the way the words flowed through him. Or how he couldn't show his love for her back. He could if he really wanted to be late. He could shut this car off, walk back inside and take her again. But it would take all day to get over hearing her say that. He'd never make it to work if he walked back inside.

  He took a deep breath as he drove past the house. His nerves were so wired from their lovemaking and her sweet rendering of love, he had no idea how he made it to work. A deep wince escaped as he parked next to Ben's car.

  He knew he was in for it. There was no escaping Ben's wrath or shrewd teasing. He quickly hopped out of his car and made his way inside, dreading each step. Oh, how he wished he could be with Zoe.

  He slid into his chair, barely glancing at Ben.

  "You're late."

  "Yeah, sorry about that. Traffic was a bitch," Zeke replied smoothly, grabbing a report from the side of his desk.

  "You're edgy. Your hand shook grabbing that folder. You won't make eye contact. And you're late. You're never late."

  Zeke met Ben's leveled gaze and gave him a grin. "Don't dig. You won't find anything."

  Ben cocked his head to the side. "Is that a hickey on your neck?"

  Zeke almost raised his hand to cover it, but stopped himself. "It's nothing."

  "You're late. You have a hickey. But why is your hand shaking? I can figure the first two questions out myself," Ben said, biting the bottom of his lip as if he was trying to figure out the puzzle sitting in front of him.

  "Where are we at on this case?" Zeke said, opening the f
older.

  "What happened this morning besides hot sex?" Ben asked.

  "Oh, man, you got that right. It was hot sex. I almost didn't make it into work," Zeke said with a grin.

  "You admit to the hot sex, something you never do, especially since you hate talking about your sex life concerning Zoe. So what else could've happened?" Ben said, tapping his fingers on the desk.

  "She loves me," Zeke blurted.

  Ben stared at him, confusion written all over. "Clearly she showed you some lovin' this morning."

  "No, Ben. She said it." Zeke blew out a huge breath. "She watched me walk to my car and I said I love you as I got into the car. Right before she closed the door she knocks me off my damn feet and says it back. Then closes the door on my face."

  Ben still looked confused. "Isn't this a good thing?"

  "Yeah, of course. But now I gotta wait all day to hear it again and worry that it was nothing but a fluke. A momentary lapse of judgment on her part. Why'd she wait until I was in my car? I was already running late. If I would've walked back inside that house, I wouldn't be sitting at this desk right now. My ass would've never even made it into work."

  "Love's scary, Zeke. You've never been in love and look how you're freaking out about stuff all the time. She's probably freaking out herself. She said it. That means she means it. Don't over analyze it, man. You'll drive yourself nuts today. I need you clear and levelheaded. If you can't be, you might as well go back home and talk to her about it."

  "I expected teasing and a whole lotta jesting from you. Why are you being all...serious?"

  "Because I can see how freaked out you are. I can see how much you love her and I want everything to work out. Once you calm down and realize she meant what she said, then I will tease you up and down the block about that damn hickey on your neck," Ben said, pointing at it with a laugh. "It's huge. What the hell did you two do this morning?"

  "I am not going into detail what we did. It was a surprise to me as well. But it felt so good," Zeke said, closing his eyes as he remembered the exhilarating feeling when she nibbled on his neck.

  He opened his eyes to stare at the pencil that bounced off his chest. "Did you seriously throw a pencil at me?"

  "I don't want to see you relive a sex moment that you had with Zoe. Do it somewhere else," Ben said dryly.

  "Fine. And thank you. I needed that pencil thrown at me. I feel more grounded. You're right. She was probably nervous to say it, but now she said it. Everything is good. We're good. I feel a little better she won't leave me. You know, I still have that insane fear she'll leave me," Zeke said, picking up the pencil to twirl it.

  "Well, get over it. She's not gonna leave you. You two were made for each other. Sometimes it's so obvious it makes me sick."

  Ben picked up a stack of papers and handed it to Zeke. "See those numbers and initials I highlighted. Notice anything?"

  Zeke looked at the papers, flipping through them with a critical eye. "They all have the same initials. MTJ. Different set of numbers, though."

  "Well, you were late today—"

  Zeke looked up at the clock, interrupting Ben. "By twenty minutes. That's it. I wasn't that late."

  "Late enough. I was looking over Mark's financial statements and he was withdrawing a lot of cash the last few months. Sometimes a hundred to a couple hundred every so many days. Kinda odd, don't you think?" Ben said.

  "MTJ? What's his middle name?"

  "Thomas. Mark Thomas Johnson." Ben handed Zeke the financial statements as well. "If you look at the withdrawal dates, they match up perfectly with the numbers on that list."

  Zeke looked at the financial statements, then back at the list they printed off from the flash drive. MTJ followed by random numbers directly across from the initials, usually 100/1, displayed frequently throughout the list. His withdrawals from his bank always matched the list.

  "If you refer back to the autopsy report, he had high levels of cocaine in his system. He had a drug problem. That list isn't from a bookie dealing with gambling. It's a drug dealer's buy list. They mark down their buyer's initials, how much they paid, and how many grams of cocaine given," Ben said, leaning back in his chair.

  "You figured all this out within the twenty minutes I was absent?"

  "Well, I am smarter than you," Ben said with a smirk. "But no, I couldn't sleep. I came in an hour early. I don't have a warm body to keep me company while I sleep like you do."

  "You could if you—"

  "I love interrupting you. I'm gonna interrupt you every time I think something ridiculous and crazy is gonna leave your mouth," Ben said with an aggravated smile.

  Zeke raised his brows up and smiled. "Okay, buddy. Whatever you say."

  "Murphy doesn't strike me as the type to be into drugs, especially dealing them. Neither Murphy nor Mills had any drugs in their system when they died. How in the hell do they fit into all of this?" Zeke said, looking at the list of initials a little more closely.

  "If you're looking for their initials, I didn't see them. But feel free to double check. I have no idea how they tie into it. Mark had a drug problem. Somehow, Murphy got his hands on the drug dealers buy list. Maybe they knew Mark had a problem. Did they try blackmailing him?" Ben said with a shrug.

  "None of the financial statements that we poured over suggested they were receiving any amounts of money that couldn't be explained. Unless they created an account under another name. Murphy didn't seem to trust his wife much and they were having marital problems. If he was involved with the drug business somehow he probably would've made up a pseudo name."

  "Do you want to head over to narcotics and see if they have any insight? Maybe they'll recognize the list or even some of the initials," Ben suggested.

  "Worth a try." Zeke pushed back his chair to stand up when Tray walked up to his desk. He barely managed to stifle a groan. "If you're here to ask for help again, the answer is no."

  Tray laughed. "Na, man. I'm not. We finally had luck last night. Bagged one of Ray-Ray's prostitutes. Problem is...she ain't talking. Tight-lipped as can be. We need her to talk because another dead john popped up a few days ago. These drugs are getting serious. You got a way with interrogation, Zeke. Just wondering if you'd take a crack at her."

  "Funny you mention drugs. The murders we've been working on popped up drugs as well," Zeke said, handing Tray the list of initials and numbers. "Does this list mean anything to you? We can place our last victim, Mark Johnson, on that list. Buying cocaine every couple of days."

  "Looking at it at a glance, no. But I wonder if I could match the names of the dead johns that I have. They just might. Ray-Ray's name is the only name I've been hearing when it comes to cocaine. You can even ask the guys in narcotics. He's involved. I guarantee it," Tray said, handing the papers back. "Do you want to interview his girl now?"

  Zeke stood up. "I think I do."

  "You go do that and I'll go with Tray to match up more names on that list. Whadya say, Tray?" Ben asked, standing up as well.

  "Hell, yes. I feel like I'm finally getting closer to the end," Tray replied, a smile forming.

  "Me too. I need these cases closed," Zeke said, thinking of Zoe, her beautiful face, her sweet words she uttered this morning, and her fierceness. He needed this to end with a passion. He wanted her all to himself until he was fully sated with pleasure. Which would probably be never. He'd never get enough of her.

  Chapter 13

  Zoe poured herself another glass of lemonade and walked to the living room where her blanket and book waited patiently for her. She hadn't done much all day but sit, read, relax, and worry.

  Why in the world did she blurt out what she did? The moment he woke up and pulled her closer, she had wanted to utter those words. But nerves took over, making her scared. She tried to show him as best as she could, but they always connected physically. She knew he wouldn't understand with her simple touch.

  Then he looked at her with his gorgeous blue eyes shining with love as he got into his
car and said those three little words he always said. The words spilled from her lips before she could stop herself. She continued the motion of closing the door, the shock overwhelming her to do anything else. Now she wasn't even sure she said it loud enough. She expected him to walk back into the house to hear it again. But he didn't.

  She tried not to over analyze it, but it was difficult when she had nothing else to occupy her mind. Rina had called her briefly to see how she was feeling and to tell her how things were at the office. Whispers were running rampant about the mysterious flash drive and what it held, but no one admitted to knowing anything. She didn't have the nerve to tell her she simply didn't care about the flash drive.

  She had almost blurted to Rina what she said to Zeke, but clamped her mouth shut at the last minute. It wasn't a big deal. She didn't know why she was making it into a big deal. He loved her and she loved him. End of story.

  She had made lunch, barely tasting the salad. Over the last few days, she found it was one of the few meals she could keep down. None of her favorite foods tasted delicious anymore. She needed more nutrition than salad, but she was afraid to try anything else. She hated throwing up.

  After lunch, she had napped, snuggling closer to Zeke's side. She had imagined him lying there and it instantly conjured images of the morning, making her miss him like crazy. She had napped a long time, practically the entire afternoon, just to feel closer to him. She tortured herself by doing that. It was the longest day of her life.

  She put her book down, since she couldn't register any of the words anyway. Frazzled nerves. Worry. Numbness. All over saying three little words.

  She glanced at the TV to the clock below.

  Ugh. Still another hour or so until Zeke would be home. He had called earlier to check on her. He said he'd be home around supper and if something popped up that he wouldn't be, he'd call again. He never once mentioned what she said that morning, making her believe he hadn't heard her.

  Her eyes zoned out as she stared at the clock. How would she ever manage to utter those words again? Why was it still terrifying to say those three little words? It shouldn't be. They rolled off his tongue with ease. Why couldn't she do the same thing?