by Ashlee Price
It was cold-blooded murder of a man who couldn’t put up a fight.
Vile.
Why would anyone murder Ed Parker? Well, I can think of a few reasons. Maybe he set off someone at work. Ed isn’t—wasn’t—exactly a charming person, after all. Maybe one of his stories pissed off someone powerful. That’s usually the way journalists go. Or maybe it’s personal, though I don’t know enough about his personal life to guess how.
And that’s not all the mystery.
Why murder Ed in the cabin I’m sharing with Ingrid? Why not in his cabin? Or just dump his body outside and leave it to be covered in snow until summer? What, the murderer was cold-blooded enough to lie in wait and break Ed’s neck but wouldn’t stoop to concealing his body? Why did he want it to be discovered by Ingrid and me?
I sit on the edge of the couch, burying my face in my still shaking hands.
Come to think of it, it’s a good thing I was with Trevor and Ingrid was with Astrid. Considering the competition we’re in, we might have come under suspicion if we had no alibis. Even so, this is all such a mess.
Of course, Ingrid is shaken too, more so than I am since she found his body first. The last time I saw her, she was throwing up in the toilet.
Deciding to check on her, I head upstairs. I find her in the bedroom, sitting on the black sheepskin rug in front of the fire in her pajamas with her legs crossed. Her hands are clasped behind her neck, her eyes on the flames.
“Hey.” I cross my legs beside her. “How are you doing?”
Ingrid turns to me with arched eyebrows, hands falling to her lap. “How do you think a person would do after seeing the corpse of someone she knows?”
“Worse,” I answer simply, ignoring her barbed tone.
She turns back to the fire. “I saw him, you know, earlier. He was alive. I didn’t see his face, but he seemed fine.”
My eyebrows bunch up. “You did too?”
She looks at me. “What do you mean ‘too’?”
“I saw him too, there in town,” I inform her. “We spoke. As usual, he was trying to get me into an argument, but I didn’t feel like it. And then Trevor found me and Ed just left. He was fine.”
“What do you think he was doing here?” Ingrid asks me.
I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“And what was he doing in our cabin?”
I give another shrug.
Ingrid runs her fingers through her hair as she stands up. “I don’t understand it. I don’t understand anything. I don’t even understand you. Why would you say that to me, huh? Why are you doing this to me?”
She shakes her head as she walks to the window, hands on her hips.
“You know, you’re so unfair. You’re no different from the guy who murdered Ed. I open myself to you a little and you barge right in and walk all over me, rip me apart and take everything from me. Why? What did I ever do to you?”
A lump forms in my throat as I stand up, my chest hurting from her words—both the ones she just said and those she said earlier.
She’s right. She hasn’t done anything to deserve all this. She didn’t do anything to justify me stealing her story. I was a jerk. She didn’t ask for a child. I was careless, even though I was the one who should have been careful. She didn’t ask me back into her life. I barged in. I turned everything upside down. She told me to stay away because she knew I’d exploit her weakness. I couldn’t.
Ingrid is right. I’m just as cold-blooded as Ed’s murderer.
I hurt her. I took advantage of her. I tricked her. I tempted her. Worst of all, I stole her heart.
And now I’m thinking of leaving her?
What a fool I am. I can’t leave her.
If there’s anything Ed’s death has taught me, it’s that life is too short to mistakes, to walk away from the things that make you happy.
Besides, Ingrid and Alexa need me. And I need them.
Crossing the gap between us with long strides, I grab Ingrid’s shoulders, turning her around. I pull her into my arms, my mouth holding hers captive.
She tries to shove me away, and when I don’t let go, she beats my chest with her fists, her mouth squirming beneath mine.
I grab her wrists, pinning them above her head as I kiss her harder. Still, she struggles.
“If you want me to stop resisting you, you’ll have to tie me up,” she hisses, daggers in her eyes.
I stroke her cheek. “Is that a challenge?”
“What are you going to do? Run away?” she taunts. “What? You can tie me up when I’m not asking but not when I am?”
My jaw clenches. “If that’s what you want, so be it.”
I pull the sash off my robe, securing her wrists behind her.
“Better?”
She gives me a devilish grin. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
That’s exactly what I intend to do. I press my mouth to hers as I cup her cheek. Her lips part and I suck on her tongue, tasting traces of vodka, coke and toothpaste before delving in.
As my tongue plays with hers, I let my hands have their fun, popping the buttons of her pajamas one by one. I cup both her breasts, one in each hand, thumbs pressing against her nipples.
She moans, trembling. The rosy peaks stiffen.
I lower my head to lick one as I slip my hand beneath two layers of garter. My fingers brush against the button in her curls and she cries out.
Moving my mouth to her other breast, I slip a finger inside her. The opening is already moist. Hot.
The heat goes all the way to my crotch. The front of my briefs grows tighter.
I slip another finger inside her, both fingers becoming coated in her sweet juices as they reach in deeply.
She gives a loud moan.
I swallow the next one as I pull out my fingers to tease her nub, now engorged and craving for attention. I strum it and she throws her head back. I bend it back even further, my tongue reaching as far as it can go.
When she pulls away to breathe, I lead her to the bed and bend her over its edge. Pulling her pants and underwear off, I toss them away and bend over to lick her from behind.
She thrashes on the bed, knees shaking.
“Conner,” she gasps my name as she gets wetter.
A stain forms on my own briefs as my cock throbs.
I take it out, grip her hips, lift them slightly and enter her.
Her hands clench and unclench into fists behind her. Her cries are muffled by the sheets.
I pound into her, setting a hard pace from the start, and my robe falls off my shoulders. I reach for her breasts, letting them jiggle in my palms, and then I reach between her legs, stroking her as I jerk my hips.
Her hips move against mine. I can hear my heavy balls slapping against her skin. Then she stops and gives a particularly loud cry, her body trembling and squeezing me.
When she’s done, she falls forward on the bed, but I’m unwilling to let her go. I grip one of her arms, my other hand clutching her hip as I manage a few more thrusts.
My jaw clenched, I release myself inside her, my muscles growing taut as I hold my breath. Only now do I release her, letting her fall on top of the bed as I stand above her, my chest heaving as my lungs pull in air.
When I’ve caught my breath, I free her wrists. She turns to face me, her eyes still teary, cheeks still flushed.
Discarding my robe, I lean over and kiss her still swollen lips. She kisses me back, her hand reaching for my crotch.
I jerk as her fingers brush against my cock, still erect and tingling from my recent ejaculation.
“Careful,” I warn.
She moves her hand to stroke my balls instead, cupping them in her palm.
I plant a kiss just below her ear, sucking on the flesh. Suddenly, Ingrid pushes me away.
She kneels in front of me and, gripping my ass, starts licking the length of my cock.
I grab her shoulders, shuddering.
“Shit!”
“Am I being careful enoug
h for you?” she asks, mischievous eyes glancing up at me.
Before I can answer, she wraps her lips around the tip of my cock, eyes still holding mine. Legs trembling, I purse my lips tight to hold back a moan.
She sucks on me and I let out a gasp. My hands go to her hair, becoming entangled with the soft tendrils. I pull at them, torn between pulling her close or pushing her away.
Her tongue glides across my sensitive skin. Her lips have me trapped, and the friction is building as she moves faster.
“Mmm…”
Grabbing her shoulders, I pull her off me and toss her onto the bed.
“Why did you have to do that, huh?” I ask her. “I intended to be gentle the second time.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be gentle,” Ingrid says, licking her lips as her fingertips dance across my wet cock, making me draw in a deep breath. “You and I, we’re already a mess. Why hold back?”
She has a point. At any rate, I’m done holding back.
Ingrid cries out, throwing her head back as I sheath myself in her heat a second time, this time with one long thrust. She grips the sheets, her back arching.
Bending her nearly in half, the backs of her knees on my shoulders, I propel myself forward, moving in and out of that tight, exquisite passage. She clings to me, gasping and moaning, her body rocking with mine.
This time, we reach the peak of pleasure at the same time, her body quivering beneath mine as I spill out every last drop of me. Her cries mix with my grunts, both eventually fading to breathless gasps.
Pulling out, I lie down beside her, breathing heavily, my mind still spinning.
I can feel the buzz of sleep at the back of my head, but I push it away, keeping my eyes open as I pull Ingrid close. Still gasping for air, she rests her head on my shoulder. Her breasts are pinned against half my chest and one of her legs drapes over mine.
“What did you mean?” she asks in a whisper, lifting her head to look at me. “What did you mean when you said you didn’t want to do this any longer?”
I gaze into her eyes as I run my fingers through her hair. “I meant we can’t deny ourselves any longer.” I stroke her cheek with my other hand. “Like you said, no more holding back.”
Her eyebrows crease. “Why were you avoiding me, then?”
“I was struggling to say it, but now I can.” I press my lips to her forehead. “I love you, Ingrid. I’m sorry for everything.”
She shakes her head as she strokes my cheek. “I love you, Conner.”
We kiss, slowly, savoring every second. My heart pounds. My chest floods with warmth.
Damn, I love her. And I’m never letting her go.
Ingrid pulls away, smiling. “You had to go to Dallas to realize it?”
“No.” I kiss her hand. “I’ve loved you all along.”
She nods and nuzzles against me, still with that sweet smile on.
I kiss the top of her head as I let my fingers entwine with hers.
Yes, I’ve been such a jerk, but that ends now. I’m going to take care of Ingrid and our daughter. And if Damien Shore threatens us, I’m going to do everything I can to protect my family.
No more running. No more messing around. No more games.
Pulling the blanket over us, I hug Ingrid tighter as I close my eyes, surrendering to the lull of sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Ingrid
I wake up to a chill in the air.
I tug on the blanket, pulling it to my shoulders, only to realize I’m naked beneath it.
I open my eyes, staring at the pine ceiling. It still has a streak of gold from the glow of the lamp, but now that’s not the only light in the room. Slivers of sunlight are drifting in through the window.
I turn my head, staring at Conner, who’s still sleeping beside me. Remembering what he said last night, I smile.
He loves me.
I can’t wipe the smile off my face as I get out of bed and put my pajamas back on.
I never thought we’d end up together. I thought for sure—and I sincerely hoped—that I was never going to see him again after I left Dallas. Yet here he is, the father of my child and my lover. And here I am, completely in love with him.
I guess I have been all along.
Eliza’s right. Hate isn’t the opposite of love. Although now that I think about it, maybe I never really hated him. I was just hurt. She was right, too, to say that it all starts with a little lust, which we humans strive to fight.
Well, the fight is over now. From now on, Conner and I will be together.
My smile vanishes when I think of Alexa pouting, getting mad at me because I didn’t tell her Conner was her father. But it returns when I think of how happy she’ll be to know it, to finally have a father.
We’re going to be a family.
What started out as a night that got out of hand has has somehow ended up as a happy family.
Now, that’s a love story.
I touch my chin. Well, that gives me an idea.
After slipping the last button of my pajama top in place, I head for the bathroom, but stop when I hear something vibrating.
A phone.
I check mine on the nightstand, but it’s not the one making the sound. The vibration is coming from inside the nightstand.
Pulling the drawer out, I pick up Conner’s phone. My eyebrows furrow at the unregistered number.
Curious, I swipe the screen to unlock it and open the message.
Conner, I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Can I call you?
Now I’m really curious.
I scroll down to the very bottom.
Conner, I’m sorry about earlier. Oh, and thanks for the tip.—Tiffany
Holding my breath, I read the rest, moving up. Then I stop at a more recent message.
It was so nice seeing you in Dallas. I knew you were naughty, but I didn’t know you could be such a bad, bad boy!
My heart sinks and a lump rises in my throat. They met in Dallas?
The message is followed by another.
Hope you got back safely. I can’t wait to see what other tricks you have up your sleeve. See you soon!
I sit on the edge of the bed. All of a sudden, my legs feel weak and my chest so tight I can barely breathe.
Conner was with Tiffany?
I shake my head. No, wait. Maybe I’m reading too much into this. Maybe they just bumped into each other and talked about work. But why would Tiffany be in Dallas and at the same time Conner was, and why did she say he was naughty?
My mind spinning, I check Conner’s other messages. My eyebrows arch when I find the draft of a message he was going to send to me.
I read it.
I’m sorry, Ingrid, but I’m not coming back. I can’t stay with you. I can’t…
The message is unfinished, but the gist is clear.
When he was in Dallas, he was thinking of not coming back. He was thinking of leaving me after being with Tiffany.
That’s why he said we can’t do this anymore.
That’s why he was avoiding me.
A tear rolls down my cheek. I let it.
I don’t know what hurts more—the fact that Conner’s a jerk or the fact that I’m a fool.
I’ve always been a fool when it came to love.
The phone in my hand vibrates again. It’s a call from Tiffany.
“Who’s that?” Conner asks, stirring behind me.
“Tiffany,” I answer, getting off the bed and throwing the phone at him.
Rubbing his eyes, he gives me a puzzled look. “What’s wrong?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You met Tiffany in Dallas, didn’t you?”
Conner glances at his phone. “You read my messages?”
“A small crime compared to stealing my story,” I tell him. “Besides, I wanted to know if you really loved me. And guess what? You’re just a jerk and a liar.”
“You misunderstand.” He sits up. “Yes, I bumped into Tiffany in Dallas…”
“We just met. Nothing happened.”
“You mean you did nothing naughty?” I ask him.
“Shit.” He goes through his messages. “I don’t even know what she texted. I didn’t read her messages.”
The phone vibrates again.
“Maybe you should answer that,” I tell him. “It seems like she really misses you.”
Conner frowns, dropping the phone and standing up. “It’s not like that.”
I step back. “And what about that message you were going to send me? The one which said you were never coming back.”
He draws a deep breath.
“What? You just accidentally typed that? Were you practicing?”
“Fine. I wasn’t going to come back. I was…”
“Because you like Tiffany better?”
“It has nothing to do with Tiffany.”
“But you typed that message while you were with Tiffany, right?”
“It has nothing to do with Tiffany!” he repeats louder, shaking his head.
Rubbing my ears, I walk away.
“I’m sorry.” He grabs my hand. “I didn’t mean to shout. Seriously though, she…”
“I don’t care, okay?” I shout in turn, wrenching my hand away. “You were thinking of not coming back.”
“I…”
“You were thinking of just disappearing on Alexa and me.” Another tear rolls down my cheek. “You were going to leave me just like that.”
“But I came back,” he says.
“Yes, but you were different. You were still contemplating leaving me, weren’t you? That’s why you were acting weird.”
He sighs. “Fine. I admit it, but…”
I slap my forehead, my other hand on my chest as I struggle to breathe at his admission.
“Ingrid…”
He places his hand on my arm, but I jerk away. “Don’t touch me! You’re a liar. You don’t love me. You can’t love me. You’ve just been using me all this time.”
“That’s not true.”
“Enough!” I shout at him. “I’ve had enough, Conner! Yes, you stole my heart, but that doesn’t mean you can keep it. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have it. I’m taking it back.”