Killing Streak

by Merit Clark

  She met his eyes, not hiding, not scared. “Confession is good for the soul. Or so they say.”

  “I think they lie.”

  “I thought your job was extracting confessions.”

  “Apparently I suck at it.”

  “I don’t know. It worked on me. I confessed far more than I ever meant to.” She swirled her glass for barely a second before she took a sip. “I don’t get it. I’d still rather have a glass of Chardonnay.”

  “My grandfather is rolling in his grave.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Never mind. You realize this is like a three- or four-thousand-dollar bottle of wine?”

  “At least. I’ve got another one in my purse. Just in case.”

  “In case what?” It wasn’t bile that rose in his throat this time. But why? He didn’t even like her.

  “In case one doesn’t give me enough nerve.”

  She’d changed clothes into a cranberry-colored sweater and jeans, and she’d wiped off most of the showgirl makeup. She looked like Corie again. He found himself wanting to touch the sweater, to see if it was as soft as it looked. His voice lost some of its angry edge. “What do you need nerve for?”

  “Jack.” She looked at him with that even, confident look. “It’s so weird. It’s like I know you but I don’t. There were moments when you felt familiar, but right now you seem like a complete stranger.”

  He turned away from her and walked back into the living room. Purposely, he sat in one of the armchairs so she couldn’t sit next to him. He hated himself for desiring her. He stared into the translucent surface of the overpriced wine and tried to sort out his emotions. It was impossible.

  Corie took another sip of the wine, almost as if she was forcing herself to take cough syrup, and set her glass on the coffee table.

  “You really don’t like it.”

  “It was more for you anyway. Evan donated a case for the auction.”

  “How nice of him.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He knew she wasn’t talking about Evan’s donation. He waited.

  “I was never going to tell you. Of course I never thought I’d see you again. I prayed I would never see you again. But if I ever did, I wasn’t going to talk about it. And I sure as hell was never going to tell you like that. I don’t know. I was mad. I am mad. I feel like I’ve been manipulated my whole life by everyone who supposedly cared about me. I’ve been a fool. I’ve let everyone use me and I’ve had it. I was determined not to take any crap from anyone anymore and you happened to cross my path first.”

  She reached for the glass, took a gulp, and shivered. “It broke my heart—I—oh hell, I came over to tell you the truth so I’m just going to say this: She had everything I wanted, which included you. And she was throwing it away. It wasn’t fair. I hated both of you. My first thought when I heard that she’d died was . . . let’s just say, uncharitable.”

  Jack didn’t know what showed in his face but he wouldn’t let himself look away.

  “I couldn’t stop her,” Corie said, as if she’d read his mind. “You know how she was.”

  “She told me that she lost it.”

  “Well then that makes both of us stupid.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” He swirled his glass, grateful he could finally take a real drink.

  “I should go.” She stood, found her purse, pulled out the second bottle, and set it on the coffee table.

  Jack felt caught off guard. “I have Chardonnay.”

  “I shouldn’t stay.”

  “No, you shouldn’t.” He stood too.

  She had her purse over her shoulder but didn’t make a move toward the front door. “Your house is nice.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What I’ve seen of it. Oh God, that sounds like I’m flirting. I’m not flirting. I don’t know what made me say that. I don’t know what makes me say anything. I better go because there’s no telling what might come out of my mouth. I’m an idiot. I hope you enjoy the wine.”

  Jack’s face relaxed. “You’re not an idiot.”

  “No? I feel like one.”

  “Well maybe for liking Chardonnay better than the La Tache, but not otherwise. Although if you continue to let Evan anywhere near you, I’ll change my opinion.”

  “No worries.”

  Her boldness shifted into something else. She didn’t hold his gaze but for a different reason, one that had nothing to do with courage. Jack took a step toward her and she looked down and fidgeted with the clasp on her bag. When she looked up again he’d closed the gap. He took her handbag off her shoulder and tossed it onto the couch, then rested his hand where the strap had been. He wondered what she would do, if she would pull away. The sweater was soft.

  “I can’t do this,” Jack said.

  “I know.”

  His hand moved up over her collarbone and then along her jaw, under her chin. He tipped her face up to his. Corie seemed to melt at his touch. “But I think I have to.”

  Her mouth was soft, welcoming, delicious.

  She read his mind again. “The wine tastes much better on you.”

  “I won’t push you. We both know you shouldn’t stay. Although I want you to.”

  “Being a good girl hasn’t worked out so well for me.”

  She reached for him and Jack leaned into her, breathed her in, before his mouth found hers again. This time more insistently, more thoroughly, exploring, teasing, devouring. Soon there was no mistaking the fact that she was kissing him back.

  His hands moved over the soft sweater, down to her lower back. He drew her in until she was pressed tight against him, no longer worried about what she saw in his face or what she could feel in his desire for her. Corie didn’t resist. She responded as if she wanted him as much as he wanted her, which was a lot—twenty years’ worth of pent up anger, desire, frustration, curiosity, loss.

  In the bedroom he gently lowered her onto the bed. She reached for him and he debated for a moment. “I should tell you something.”

  She put her fingers on his lips and shook her head.

  He kissed the palm of her hand. “No. There’s something—” Jack sat up and cleared his throat.

  “That’s a very serious look.”

  “It’s kind of embarrassing. I have testicular cancer. Well, had. I’ve had surgery, and treatment, and I haven’t . . . been with anyone . . . since all of that.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Great. Now she looked scared. “Yep. I’m fine. Or so they tell me. I just thought you should know.”

  Corie smiled and brushed his hair off his forehead. “I’m honored.”

  “I’ve, um, had some trial runs on my own and everything seems to work okay.”

  She tipped her head back and laughed. “Thanks for sharing.”

  “Have I totally killed the mood?”

  Her beautiful blue eyes moved over his face, taking his measure. She shook her head. “It’s like a miracle being here with you.”

  He smiled and let himself go; the moment his lips touched hers he forgot about everything else anyway. He’d never had the chance when they were teenagers to kiss her, not like this.

  He undressed her slowly, purposefully, taking his time until Corie lay back on the bed naked. His eyes traveled as slowly and methodically over her body as his hands. Her breathing was ragged but she didn’t shy away from him. She watched as he removed his own clothes and he could see the desire on her face.

  “You’re so beautiful.” Jack trailed a line of kisses down her neck, along her collarbone. His fingertips brushed over her breasts, softly, tracing slow circles around her nipples that grew hard at his touch. He lowered his head and kissed them, traced smaller circles with his tongue.

  “Jack.” She said his name on a sigh of pleasure. “Oh.”

  It felt so good to be fully engaged—his body, his mind, and his heart—not wanting to be anywhere or with anyone else. Astounding to be able to graze her nipples with his lips and to hear her
say his name like that. Jack didn’t know exactly what she’d been through, but his mind was pretty good at filling in the blanks. He wanted to somehow make up for all of the times she’d been mistreated and abused. He wanted her to know what it felt like to be adored. He took his time with her breasts before letting his hands continue their thorough exploration. He watched her face when his fingers eventually slipped between her legs and reveled in the way she responded to his touch.

  “Corie.”

  “Oh God.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

  “You like that?” His own voice a ragged whisper, too. He knew she did but he longed to hear her say it.

  “Oh. God. Yes.”

  He leaned up and kissed her while still touching her. She kissed him back with such ferocity it took his breath away. She pressed herself against his hand. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Corie’s passion surprised him.

  He rolled on top of her but held himself still for a moment. She seemed impatient but he didn’t want to hurry. He could still stop. If he had to. Maybe.

  “Corie, are you sure?”

  She reached for him, curved her hand around him, pulled him down, and pulled him in until he was lost.

  Then there was only ravenous need.

  Any fear he had about how things would function or how things would feel was gone, replaced by a new fear that this would go too fast. It had been a while, and maybe he’d forgotten, but had sex ever felt this good? This was like a whole new universe of sensation. And she was so damned gorgeous.

  “Corie.” He captured both of her wrists in one of his hands and held them over her head. He was trying to get her to slow down. “If this is over in like, five seconds, I promise I’ll do it again soon.”

  Her entire body seemed to rise up off the bed to meet him. She was taking what she wanted and the only answer was to take back, to answer her greed with his own. He kept closing his eyes and then opening them again, as if he couldn’t really believe it was Corie there underneath him, all around him, making those sounds, saying his name.

  She held him while he pounded into her, shuddered, and eventually stilled. In the lull that followed, she seemed to luxuriate in being trapped underneath him and the pressure of his body. Jack felt all of the tension go out of his shoulders and slid off just enough to not crush her.

  Her lips grazed his shoulder and her voice was soft. “It seems everything works fine.”

  He lifted his head and grinned down at her. He’d no doubt pay for it later, but right at that moment, all he felt was pure happiness. “Mmm.” He buried his hands in her hair, kissed her, and made a sound like she was the most delicious thing in the world.

  When he rolled off and got up to deal with the condom, Corie let out a disappointed whimper.

  Jack laughed. “You know what would make this night perfect?”

  Corie gave a long, satisfied sigh and stretched leisurely. “What?”

  “More of that wine.”

  “That’s what would make it perfect, huh?” But she didn’t sound annoyed. She hugged a pillow and smiled at him.

  Jack padded into the kitchen naked and came back with two glasses, white for her.

  Corie sat up and took the Chardonnay from his outstretched hand. “Aw. Thank you.”

  “Leaves more of the Bordeaux for me.” He climbed back into bed and she settled herself comfortably against him. He watched her take a sip of wine. “What are you thinking?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I had the right idea when I was seventeen.”

  Chapter 39

  Later, Corie sat at the granite counter and watched Jack cook. Neither of them had eaten anything at the benefit and they were ravenous. He stood in front of the stove in a t-shirt and jeans, barefoot, his hair messy, looking very cute. Murphy, who she had brought in the car with her, now drank happily from a plastic bowl Jack filled with water and put on the floor. When he was finished, the dog curled up in the middle of the kitchen and went to sleep.

  On his way to the refrigerator Jack nudged the collie with his foot. “Dog, you’re right in the way.”

  “He has a knack. Murphy!” Corie pointed toward the corner. Murphy gave her an insulted look and walked over to have his head scratched. Then he lay down on the floor by her feet and rolled over onto his back. Corie got down on the floor with him and rubbed his belly.

  “Lucky dog,” Jack said.

  “It seems to me that you’ve gotten some attention yourself recently.” It was like some miracle of normalcy. Just a couple cooking dinner late on a Saturday night in the middle of a murder investigation. Corie looked up at him. “You sure you don’t mind about the dog?”

  “If I have to take the dog to get you, it’s more than a fair deal.”

  “Thanks. I think.” She poured herself more Chardonnay.

  The pasta he made turned out to be simple but delicious, angel hair with garlic, a little fresh parsley, good quality olive oil, and shaved Parmesan.

  “Who knew? You’re not only a wine connoisseur, you can cook.” Corie twirled a healthy portion of pasta around her fork.

  Jack smiled and then he looked thoughtful. “Do you remember the last time we saw each other?”

  “At the convenience store. That was awful. You looked so angry.”

  “I was miserable,” Jack said. “You practically jumped out of my way when you saw me as if you’d been scalded. It was clear you couldn’t stand me.”

  “I thought . . . You know what I thought.”

  “That I had knocked up Hennessy without a second thought and cavalierly handed her a few hundred bucks to take care of it.”

  “No, that’s not—” She hesitated. “Okay, yes, that’s exactly what I thought.”

  “Want to know the real story?” Jack’s eyes were serious. “I asked her to marry me.”

  Corie set down her fork. “You did?”

  “She laughed in my face. Told me I was ‘sweet but stupid.’ I’ll never forget those words. She said she didn’t want to get married and, if she ever did, it wouldn’t be to me. I was convinced that you and Hennessy were having a great laugh at my expense.”

  “If anyone was having a laugh, it sure wasn’t me.”

  “It’s amazing how it stayed with me, though. I vowed no one would ever be able to accuse me of being ‘sweet and stupid’ ever again.”

  “Well that’s too bad. Not the stupid part, but you were sweet.”

  “Coming from you that doesn’t sound like quite as bad an insult.”

  Corie laughed. “I know it’s something men hate to hear. But I mean it in a good way. So catch me up on what you’ve done since the summer after high school. It’s very lopsided. You know all about me.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Do you ever actually answer a question?”

  “Like what?”

  Corie gave an aggrieved sigh and then thought about it. “How’d you become a cop?”

  “You really want to know?”

  Corie swatted at him with her napkin and Jack held his hands up in a motion of surrender.

  “All right. I’ll tell you.” There was a pause while he took another leisurely sip of the La Tache.

  “I went off the rails in college. My father died when I was a junior and after that my grades suffered and I experienced a lack of focus.”

  “Oh, Jack. I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Long story short I fell in with a bad crowd. I didn’t give a shit. It felt like . . . I don’t know what it felt like. It felt like nothing. I didn’t care anymore. I was on the verge of flunking out, bailing on the degree, and someone intervened.

  “This man, a friend of my father’s, took an interest in me. I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for him. He was an attorney. I got into some trouble. I did some things I’m not proud of.” Jack frowned. “That may be what your charming husband was referring to on the stairs, although how the hell he could have found out is b
eyond me.”

  “Jack, be careful. Evan has a way of finding out—” She paused and shook her head helplessly. “Everything.”

  “You let me worry about Evan. Anyway, to answer your question, my father’s friend had some contacts in the district attorney’s office and he somehow convinced them that I had potential.” Jack laughed shortly. “Why he thought that I’ll never know. He made me a deal: I could go into the Academy or he’d throw me to the sharks. I didn’t really want to go to jail, so I guess you could say I was blackmailed into my current profession. Do you want to hear the real cliché?”

  “Sure.”

  “My Dad was murdered.”

  Back in his bedroom she said, “You know, I had forgotten all about you.”

  She was wearing one of his shirts. He started unbuttoning it. “I know. Me too. Completely.”

  Corie closed her eyes for a moment when he slid the shirt off her shoulders. “I certainly worked hard enough at it.”

  “Me too.”

  “If we’d gotten together when we were teenagers, it never would have lasted.”

  “Never.” He pulled his t-shirt off over his head.

  “Even now I wonder if it’s a curiosity thing.”

  “The one that got away.”

  “What would it have been like? When we were teenagers?”

  “We’ll never know. Because of me.” He stepped out of his jeans and kicked them away.

  She leaned back on her hands on the bed, naked, looking up at him. “Let’s just say you disabused me of my girlish notions about fidelity early on. I should thank you.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It’s true.”

  “What about now?”

  “What about now?” Her eyes traveled over his body, down his chest, and over his flat stomach to what lay beyond. She broke out in goose bumps.

  “You still want me.”

  “I do. Nice of you to notice.”

  He smiled. “Still curious?”

  “You’re a very handsome man, Jack. Hard. Funny. Smart. The hardness didn’t used to be there.”

  “You like that about me?”

  “Part of what makes me curious.”

  He leaned down and grazed her lips with his, then let his mouth wander until it found a nipple.