by CJ Ellisson
“I know, but I bet it was still fun.”
“Stay away from the bathroom when I’m in there, or I won’t be held responsible for what happens.” Donovan stood straight and glanced at Brock. “I mean it. I will hurt him if he does that again.”
She was practically vibrating with anger.
Brock glared at Ramirez. “You heard her. Knock on the door before you go in there. Don’t make me have to write out reports over murder. You both know that I don’t tolerate anything that makes anyone uncomfortable. When it comes down to it, our team’s base is mutual respect. We are still professionals.”
Donovan sat in a sofa opposite Ramirez and glared at him the entire time. He, on the other hand, smiled and winked at her. When Trent gave Ramirez the thumbs up, Erica smacked him upside his head.
“Seriously, babe,” he said while rubbing the back of his head, “you need to stop it with the violence. You know I’m ready to do your bidding. If you have some kind of fetish, I’m willing to explore that, but we have to agree to some limits.”
Erica rolled her eyes and tried to bite back a grin, failing miserably. He was like a big kid, and it boggled her mind that she liked him so much.
“You two…” Brock pointed to Erica and Trent. “Cool it. Must I give lessons on what is and isn’t appropriate work conversation?”
Erica blew Brock a kiss, but he just shook his head. “Alright, now that everyone has been reminded that we are still working a case, not participating in Spring Break, let’s get back to business.” Brock turned his gaze to a still-fuming Donovan. “What’d you find out for me on the social networking sites?”
Donovan took a deep breath and picked up the folder she’d dropped on the coffee table. “Lisa Summers and Gina Torres had four men in common. The subjects with the most intimate familiarity with our victims are two. One is Derek Holmes, who dated both girls within a six-month period. The other man was Professor James Green.”
“Professor? Is he the one Gina babysat for?” Ramirez leaned forward in his chair.
Donovan pursed her lips. “Yes. Gina babysat for James Green at least twice a week. Apparently his wife travels a lot, and he always hired Gina to watch his kids when he gave evening lectures.”
“And how did Lisa know him? Was she in his class?” Erica asked.
Donovan glanced down at her notes before she answered. “She was last semester, but this semester she was his lover.”
Trent whistled low. “Wow. I’m kind of jealous I didn’t become a college professor and have hot young girls hitting on me.” He pouted and placed his arm over Erica’s shoulders. She elbowed him in the gut again for his words. “Ow!” He rubbed his ribs and gave her a hurt look. “Am I going to have to take you to rage-a-holics? Because I bet I know better ways to work out our differences.” He winked.
“Oh, come on.” Donovan sighed in complaint.
“Focus, people, focus. Let’s get back to this case. What other people do they have in common?” Brock took a sip out of the soda can.
“The other two are Anthony Holmes, Derek’s younger brother, and Richard Thompson.” Jane said looking over her notes.
“Who’s this Richard Thompson guy?” Brock asked.
“I don’t know yet, but he seems to be really popular in the college. He’s friends with almost 20 percent of the student body on Facebook.” Donovan flicked a lock of stray hair behind her ear.
“OK, we’re going to have to interview these guys. Let’s start with the ex and the professor and work our way from there.” Brock looked toward Erica and Trent. “I’m sorry Villa. I’m going to have to ask you to work on this without me a little longer. I have to meet with the governor. He wants a personal visit with me on the status of the case. You and Buchanan take Derek Holmes. As the ex, he’s our most likely suspect.” He glanced over to Ramirez. “You will visit Professor Green.” Then he turned to Donovan. “Donovan, find out more about Richard Thompson and Anthony Holmes.”
Erica walked back to her room. She had so much on her mind she didn’t pay Trent any attention. She shut the door to her bedroom before he had a chance to follow her. It was time for her to get some space and think about the case. She wondered if one of the four men was the killer. Thoughts of the victims and what she knew of the killer rushed forth in her mind.
The man was tall, built, and strong. She wished she could’ve gotten a good view of his face or heard his voice, but unfortunately with both victims he’d been in shadow. She couldn’t make out the voice over the noise.
She thought back to Trent. He’d been himself and at the same time more attentive toward her. The silly, sexy part of him would never change, but now he seemed even more interested in pulling her into his jokes and making her laugh. She wasn’t sure what was going on inside her when it came to him, but she knew that the feelings growing for him were unlike anything she’d felt for any man before.
What the hell was wrong with her? She knew better than to put her faith in a womanizer like Trent. But none of the women who had dated him in the department ever complained about him being anything other than a gentleman. Just thinking of him with someone else made her blood boil.
What was she going to do about him? He has seemed more attentive. Could he be thinking about them in terms of more than sex? Hell, she was thinking about them as more than just sex. It was sweet—and scary as hell. She shook her head at the ridiculous thoughts. It wasn’t a good idea for her to start thinking long-term.
Chapter Eight
Trent lay on Erica’s bed, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. He heard her puttering and grinned, imagining what she’d be wearing when she came out. Anticipation made his cock jerk in his boxers. He glanced down at them with a frown, wondering if he should take them off too. It’s not like she hadn’t seen him naked, and from the looks of it she’d enjoyed the way his body looked. He decided to stay as he was, in his boxers and nothing more, while he waited.
She’d gone ahead of him and shut her door, which he assumed was her way of telling him to keep out. Lucky for her, he could reach her bedroom through the shared bathroom. So he’d quietly walked through while she was showering, stopping only for a moment to listen to her hum, and then had made his way to her bed. There was no way in hell she’d be sleeping alone again. He wanted to protect her, guard her, and hold her. His new goal was to be there for her and soothe her whenever the nightmares attacked.
When the bathroom door opened, he grinned. His sexy, mouthy woman wore a tank top that showed off her puckered nipples as if she’d had nothing on. Long dark hair was piled up into a messy bun on the top of her head. Her lower body called and held on to his attention. She was wearing a pair of boy-short panties that looked like they were made to entice him into doing all kinds of things to her. The material of her underwear pulled at the crotch, making his mouth water.
Erica frowned when she saw him lying on the bed. “What are you doing here?”
He tried to think past the urge to strip her and lick her entire body until she came, screaming his name. “It’s time to go to bed.”
She lifted her brows. “I know that.”
“My bed is wherever you are.”
“That’s sweet. Now get out.”
“No.”
“Trent.”
“Erica.”
“I’m tired. I need sleep.”
“Come on, baby. I’ll make it worth your while.” He waggled his brows.
She looked like she was trying not to giggle. “Need. Sleep.”
“Ok, so we’ll sleep.”
“You make this so difficult.”
“It doesn’t have to be difficult. Just come to bed and let me hold you. That’s all I want to do. Don’t you understand that I love being near you. That every moment I spend next to you makes me happy. Holding you in my arms is enough to give me peace.”
Her gaze softened and she smiled. “Talk about hitting below the belt. Fine, you can stay. But I warn you, I sometimes have nightmares.”
> She looked away from him, as if embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll protect you from whatever bothers your sleep.”
She climbed on the bed and sat back on her heels looking at him. “Thank you.”
He felt like they were having a critical and special moment.
“For what?” He couldn’t figure out what she was talking about this time.
“For taking care of me.” She looked down at her hands and frowned. “I know it’s hard to understand what’s happening when I touch something, but you really helped me. I don’t want you to think I don’t know that.”
Trent smiled and felt his heartbeat quicken. She’d opened up, even if only a little, to him. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to him. She lost her balance and landed over him, her hands on his shoulders and their eyes locked on each other. His hands slowly trailed from her waist, up her back until he was cupping her face. Confusion was clear in her gaze. He wanted to reassure her that he’d always have her back, but knew she’d probably dismiss his words as fluff.
“Erica…you’re special…more than anyone else has ever been.”
Her eyes widened, the crazy beating of her heart accelerating above his. “I don’t need promises or sweet words, Trent. I just want you.”
She lowered her head to kiss him. He wanted to take things slowly this time. For her to feel like what they had was more than a quick fuck, more than something temporary. He kissed her slowly, licking her lips until she dug her nails into his chest.
“I need to tell you something…”
“Not now, I don’t want to talk right now.”
“But this is really important.” He said between kisses.
“No. Now kiss me.”
He dipped his tongue into her mouth, and she mewled, seeking more, but he kept the deliberate measured pace. Their tongues caressed and twirled, mating and rubbing in a sensual dance. He traced the smooth contours of her back to the edge of her tank top and under the hem to feel her silky flesh. Heady arousal shot through him, turning his already painful erection concrete stiff.
She sat up, her crotch rubbing on his shaft, and wiggled until she straddled him. He watched her nimble fingers remove her tank top. Passion heated his blood with each move she made. She stood up on the bed, her legs to either side of him, and dropped her panties. A sensual smile slid across her full lips, making his heart trip in his chest. She crouched down and straddled him again. His hands went right to her breasts and squeezed them. She lolled her head back and pushed her chest into his hands, softly whimpering for more.
Trent lifted his torso off the bed and latched his lips on her nipple, sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. Her breath hitched. Again he did it, this time with the other. Back and forth he went on licking her soft mounds repeatedly.
“That feels so good.” She glanced down at him.
She rolled her hips over his cock. Dampness from her pussy soaked his boxers, making the wet material rub erotically between them. She pushed him on his back, caressing his chest with her breasts. “I can’t wait any more.” She licked his lower lip.
Holy fuck was she sexy.
“We don’t have to.” He pushed his boxers down his legs when she lifted off him.
She yanked the boxers off.
Needy desire gave her eyes a glazed appearance. “Yes. I want to feel you, all of you, inside me now.”
A moment later she straddled him, gripped his cock in her hand and licked her lips. He held her by the waist, his eyes glued on the sensual scene before him. She rubbed the head of his dick on her wet folds, sighing with each stroke. Heat raged inside him, took over his veins, and overpowered logic. He needed in her. Now. She lubricated his cock with the honey dripping from her slit. Their gazes locked, and she slid down and impaled herself with his shaft.
“Yesss.”
Both moaned in unison, their bodies locked tight, his cock pulsing inside her fluttering sheath.
Her palms on his chest, nails digging into his flesh, she used him to balance.
“Trent…”
She rolled her hips in a circular motion. Perspiration gave her body a golden sheen, an almost ethereal, sex-goddess type of glow. He groaned with each wiggle of her hips, gripping her tight.
“That’s it. You’re so sexy. Ride me.”
Her breasts bounced, calling his attention to the tight peaks begging to be kissed. She did a body wave that ended with her grinding her pussy on his pelvis.
“God, sweetheart,” he groaned. “That’s so fucking hot.”
He cursed when she did it again, clenching his teeth in an attempt to keep from coming before her. She threw her head back, and he swore she had no bones. Each body wave jerked his dick in a slow glide inside her slick walls. It was fantastic. She increased her speed, moaning and whimpering louder at the same time.
She sat up a little straighter and squeezed her breast with one hand, rolling her nipple between forefinger and thumb. Down her slick body, she moved her other hand between her legs to flick her clit with her middle finger.
“Oh my god, I’m—” Her breath hitched, her body tensed, and she whimpered his name.
Trent’s mind went completely blank. His sole focus: to enjoy the ride.
“Hell yes!” He grunted and lifted his ass off the bed, needing to sink his cock deeper into her wet grip. Air propelled out of his lungs at warp speed, while he released inside her tight channel.
Erica fell forward onto his chest. They both struggled to breathe, but he felt so satisfied he couldn’t stop the stupid grin that worked its way onto his face. He caressed her spine and drew circles on her ass cheeks. She had the perfect body, made for long hours of loving. He was glad she wasn’t into the being-super-skinny hype.
Too many times he’d gone out on a date with a curvy woman and seen her skip a normal meal because she was dieting and felt the need to lose the curves god had given her. It made no sense to him. He liked his women with enough meat on them that he could have something to hold on to. He squeezed Erica’s ass. She had the sexiest body. As soon as his brain stopped drooling over it, he’d get her to ride him again.
Erica slid off him, but when she gave him her back and tried to move away, he just pulled her flush against his front and spooned her. She wiggled her butt and fell asleep with his arms around her waist.
Trent woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of soft whimpers. After a moment of intense listening, he realized the cries were coming from Erica. She’d turned toward him at some point in the night. Since she’d warned him about the possibility of a nightmare, it didn’t catch him unawares. She hugged him. His arm pillowed her head. The low lighting from the bathroom allowed him to see her face clearly. Tears fell from the corners of her closed lids. It was hard to watch. Wrapping his other arms around her, he held her close.
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he whispered. “It’s alright. I’m here. Relax, love.”
He rubbed her back in what he hoped were soothing motions and kissed her forehead. Her whimpering quieted, but he continued to hold her, unwilling to let go. He stayed that way, with her in his arms, and whispered that all was fine until she relaxed in his hold. Pain had filled his heart when he’d seen her cry in her sleep. It felt good, right, to have her in his arms.
* * *
“So you’re sure the ex is at the police station?” Trent glanced at Erica’s face. She frowned, deep in concentration.
“Yes. Apparently when the father heard that his son was in our list of suspects he wanted the kid cleared and sent junior to answer any questions we have. The kid isn’t very happy we’ve kept him waiting. He promised to call the news stations and every politician his daddy is friends with.” She sighed, turning to look out the window.
Upon nearing the police station, Trent thought about what they needed to ask. Erica had mentioned that she’d know, once she spoke to Derek Holmes for a few minutes, if he was the killer. What he didn’t tell her was that he’d also know if Derek was the kil
ler. All he’d need to do was ask, and if the kid was lying he’d smell it immediately. He had to sit and talk to Erica soon about his shifter abilities.
When they got to the station, he cut off the engine and turned to her. Just before she had a chance to pull the door handle and jump out, he grabbed her, stopping her movement.
She glanced his way, her brows lifted in question.
“I don’t know what you plan to do in there, but I don’t want you doing anything that’s going to make you pass out. Brock and I want you to stay away from anything that will create stress.” He and Brock both felt the need to ensure she didn’t overuse her ability.
She stared at him for a moment. “I’m fine. I rested.”
Trent realized she hadn’t agreed to his request. “Promise there won’t be any John Edwards stuff with you and the kid.”
She chuckled, a low, throaty sound he loved, and shook her head. “There won’t be anything strange with the suspect. I just need to talk to him.”
That was going to have to be enough, because she didn’t seem like she’d offer any other promises. Trent jumped out of the Jeep and followed behind her into the small station. Inside, the same deputy they’d spoken to before waited by the counter. Deputy Owens smiled the moment he saw Erica.
“Ms. Villa, nice to see you again.”
“Deputy Owens.” She shook his offered hand. “We’re here to speak to Derek Holmes.”
One thing he loved about his woman was that she didn’t beat around the bush. She had adopted the professional, profiler look that turned him into a horny teenager. He wondered if he should tell his sister, the psychiatrist, about that. It was probably best that he keep his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was his sister asking him about his emotions and sex life.
“We understand he’s being held somewhere so we can ask him a few questions?” Erica walked around the counter to the open door the deputy held for them.
“That’s right,” Owens answered. He motioned for them to follow him down the hall and stopped in front of a room with a glass window on the door. He unlocked the door, turned the handle, and pushed it open with his palm. Inside the room was a young man, probably in his early twenties, with a medium build and a pretty-boy face. He glowered at the three of them.