Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5)

by Morgan Kelley

Tessa slowly unzipped his dress pants. When she ran her hand across the front of him, she knew Paris was going to need some help getting started. Pulling him free from his boxers, she teased him with her mouth.

  When he tried to look away, she wouldn’t let him. “Watch us make love, Paris.”

  He had to listen. While Tessa slid him in and out of her mouth, he focused on the eroticism of the entire thing. He was slick from her saliva, and it caught his attention.

  “I love tasting you, Paris,” she admitted, as he became harder and harder. With the tip of her tongue, she teased him more, making him focus on every single slide of her tongue over his flesh.

  “Tessa,” he murmured, watching his body come alive under her ministrations.

  Then, she stopped.

  Standing, Tessa took a step back.

  “What do you want?” she asked, waiting for Paris to direct her.

  “I want you naked, Tessa. I need to see you perched above my body.”

  She could give him that.

  Slowly, Tessa began stripping out of her clothes. When she pulled off her shirt, she stood there long enough for Paris to admire her. When her fingers ran across her flesh, caressing her breasts being housed in her lacy brazier, he swallowed.

  From here on out, it would have to be incredibly visual. Not only would his body require the extra stimulation, so would he. Where his sense of feeling was diminished, his other senses would have to lead the way.

  She’d help him.

  Paris wanted her so much that it was consuming him.

  He watched as her hands went to the buckle of her belt. When it was open, and she began sliding the zipper down, he licked his lips. “I love watching you, Tessa.”

  She was well aware.

  “When I’m done stripping, what do you want?” she asked, trying to get him to use his other senses more.

  “I want to touch and taste you. It’s been so long since I’ve dined on the woman I love.”

  She nearly shivered. Paris had some amazing oral skills. “Then, that’s what’s next.”

  When she dropped her pants, she then stood there in very little panties.

  “God, I want you.”

  “I feel the same, Paris,” she purred.

  “Help me, Tessa,” he begged, needing to get into a position where he could devour her. On his knees wasn’t going to cut it anymore. He was just too wobbly.

  Tessa helped him lie back on the couch. When he was finally in position, she pulled off his pants and boxers. “You won’t need these,” she promised, tossing them over her shoulder with a wicked grin.

  “I think you should be completely naked. I like lace, but I like your body bare even more.”

  She gave him what he wanted.

  Paris watched Tessa lose every stitch of remaining clothing.

  “Now what, Tess?” he asked, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

  Tessa led the way. Climbing up his body, she straddled his head.

  Before she could even say anything, Paris dove in, pulling her down to his mouth. He hungrily lapped at her, immersing himself in Tessa.

  He couldn’t get enough.

  When she began shaking, as she was poised above his body, Paris wanted even more. He kept going, getting wilder and wilder with each breathy moan from the woman above him.

  When she broke apart, falling into the pleasure, Paris couldn’t stop. It had been months since he’d been able to do this with Tessa. Pleasuring the woman he loved had been missing from his life, and now it was back.

  He was back.

  As his fingers joined in the exploration, Tessa braced herself on the arm of the couch. From the way Paris was devouring her, she could tell he was a man on a mission.

  Who was she to complain?

  As her body shook more, Tessa couldn’t hold onto the control. Paris was breaking her down, one lick at a time.

  Just as she shattered apart, he stopped, giving Tessa a second to resurface.

  “I've missed that.”

  She laughed breathily. “Yeah, me too.”

  Sliding down his torso, Tessa got into position. Her fiancé was rock hard and ready.

  Paris stared down to the junction of their bodies. He was ready to feel his erection being buried in Tessa. “Slow. I need you to go slow,” he practically begged.

  When she gave him what he wanted, Paris nearly wanted to write Tessa sonnets. Her body unhurriedly swallowed his as she slid down the full length of him.

  This was heaven.

  “Now, Paris?” she asked, fully burying him deep.

  “Yes, please.”

  Tessa began moving slow, letting Paris watch his body sliding in and out of hers. The slick wetness coated him, getting the maximum reaction from him.

  “Tessa,” he moaned, watching her take all of him.

  When his hands went to her hips, he set the pace by pulling her down harder and harder.

  It stole her breath as it felt like he was trying to crawl into her.

  “More, baby! Come on!” he practically shouted, refusing to look away from her. He could feel his gut tighten, proving that he wasn’t going to make it much longer.

  “Paris!” she shouted, feeling her body constricting down on his.

  When he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, the orgasm tore through him, filling his body with the most amazing tingling sensation. He couldn’t feel the heat of it, but he could hear Tessa shouting his name, signaling her own explosion.

  When she collapsed against him, the tickle of her breath on his neck offered so much peace. Slowly, they both came back to awareness.

  “I love you, Paris,” she whispered, so much emotion in her voice. “I’ll die loving you.”

  When he shifted his body, he was able to see the tears in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Tessie, my love?”

  She didn't know how to put it all into words. There was just so much pressure off her shoulders now. After months of wondering if they would survive, she now had the answer to her question.

  They would.

  Paris was strong.

  Their love was holding fast.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, wondering if he’d been to rough. Since he couldn’t feel everything, he wasn’t quite sure if that were the case.

  When she shook her head, he was still lost.

  “I’m just happy,” she stated.

  Well, she didn't look happy.

  With the pad of his thumb, Paris wiped the tears from her cheeks before laying a tender kiss against her mouth.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked, once more beginning to overthink everything.

  He hoped she wasn’t having second thoughts.

  “I finally got my best friend back. You found your way home to me, Paris. We’re going to be okay now. Everything is going to be fine.”

  He smiled.

  “Yes, Tessa, we’re going to be fantastic.”

  In fact, they were more than that.

  They’d withstood the storm. Paris and Tessa had made it through.

  This proved one thing.

  True love was indestructible.

  ~ Chapter Sixteen ~

  Neither saw this one coming.

  When you did a family notify, there was always tears and pain involved. No one wanted to knock on a door to tell someone that their loved one wasn’t coming home.

  Yet, it was part of the job.

  When they found the address listed on the deceased woman’s driver’s license, they realized one thing.

  She was definitely rich.

  Not Randall Mason wealthy, but more than a working person could ever hope to rake in.

  Then, they knocked on the door, and it all became…weird.

  After being escorted into a waiting area by a maid, they looked around. Above the fireplace, they found a painting of an older man.

  The house appeared to be his residence. There were pictures of him on shelves as he held golf clubs, ones where he was being given awards, and so many
of him smugly smiling.

  It was like this was a shrine to the individual, and apparently that person was a narcissistic egomaniac.

  Then he arrived.

  The older man was wheeled into the area by the same maid. First impressions were always important, and this man might just be older than God.

  Well, at least his younger brother.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. You are?” Greyson asked, offering the man his hand in greeting.

  He accepted it. “I’m Alderman Morris the third.”

  Emma also offered an introduction of them both.

  “Oh, I know who you are,” he stated. “You’re two crooked cops, and you’re sitting in my house. Now, how about you tell me what the hell you want?”

  Well, they now knew their ruse was working. People did think they were on the take.

  It was a good and bad thing all at once, especially since Randall was gone.

  “Are you acquainted with a woman by the name of Reanne Morris?”

  Croft really believed that the woman was his granddaughter. It would explain the car and wealth. This was just one more rich person who was going to be outraged.

  “She’s my wife.”

  Croft could have fallen over. At first, he was shocked, and then he was appalled. There had to be almost fifty years in age difference between them, if not more.

  Crypt keeper meets cabaret girl.

  Even as a man, Greyson was sickened by it.

  Emma took over, since she could see the surprise on her husband’s face. “We hate to be the ones to tell you this, sir, but your wife was found dead this evening.”

  He didn't flinch.

  They waited for some response, and when there was none, she pushed on. “Were you aware that she was often found frequenting a place called ‘The Hideaway’?” Emma asked.

  “Yes, she often went there to have sex.”

  Okay, so he was well aware his MUCH younger wife was having some side action.

  Croft didn't know what to think. He knew a few men in Vegas who had younger wives, but this was the winner.

  “We didn't have sex anymore. We’ve been married almost ten years, and about four years ago, she stopped performing for me in the bedroom. So, she had her dalliances, and I had a wife men were envious of. It is…was a very symbiotic relationship.”

  “So, she was your arm candy?” Emma asked, more than a little appalled. She knew most men in Vegas viewed her the same way when they saw her on Greyson’s arm, but they were less than five years apart in age. She just looked much younger.

  “Yes. You might call her a gold digger.”

  Croft didn't know what to say. The man knew his wife was after his money, and he didn't care. This proved it.

  Vegas was jacked up.

  “How did she die?” he finally asked.

  “She was murdered by a serial killer,” Croft stated. “Again, we’re sorry for your loss.”

  The man made some sound. “Yes, me too. Now I have to find a new one.”

  Greyson put his hand on his wife’s leg. He could feel her body jerk at the word ‘one’. While his woman was very old fashioned, liked pleasing her husband, and believed they were born in the wrong era, she didn't like men treating women like objects.

  What woman did?

  This man had made his dead wife sound like a new pair of golf clubs.

  “I don’t get why you’re not upset. Did she mean that little to you?” Emma asked. “This killer destroyed her and you don’t seem to care.”

  “I am upset. I have to find someone else now. That’s time consuming at my age. I can assure you. We had a connection. Reanne liked money, I liked fine young tail.”

  She counted to ten in her head.

  “You shouldn’t judge people. Look at you two. You’re both dirty. I see you on the news all the time. Media whores are the same as gold diggers. You look at me and judge, but here sits a powerful man and his younger, beautiful wife. You’re doing the same thing I am,” he accused Croft.

  Greyson glanced over at his wife, and then back at the man. “She’s less than a decade younger than me, and we were married before I became head of the FBI in Vegas. It’s really not the same thing. Oh, and my wife isn't out getting her needs taken care of with a stranger while she spends my money. Yours was. It’s a whole different ballgame, sir.”

  The older man laughed. “Younger pussy is younger pussy, my boy.”

  Greyson was pretty sure Emma was going to lose it. He knew he was close himself. The last thing he had expected coming there was to have some old coot talking about his wife’s goodies.

  Emma stood. “We need to confiscate any equipment she may have used to access the internet.”

  Alderman called for his maid. “Get them Reanne’s laptop. Then, you can begin packing up her shit. She’s not coming back.”

  The woman nodded and rushed out.

  “My children will be glad. They didn't like her anyway.”

  With that, he wheeled himself out of the room.

  They waited for the laptop, and were then escorted from the room. Once outside, they were both a little shell-shocked. They’d never had anyone be so callous in all their years.

  Not toward a victim.

  “I don’t know if I’m more shocked by his attitude or him tossing around the pussy word,” Emma stated. “No, it’s the latter, especially since mine was part of the conversation.”

  Croft had to laugh. He was pretty sure he had never heard his wife utter that word before.

  “Well, at least he won’t need to get a new painting done when the next wife comes along,” Croft stated. “I wonder how young the next one’s pus…”

  She cut him off. “Don’t do it.”

  Croft grinned. “Why not?”

  Shaking her head, Emma refused to humor him. “Because it’s just wrong anyway you look at it.”

  He begged to differ. Looking at Emma’s was absolutely right, and he wasn’t sharing that treasure with anyone. Before he could reply, she spoke.

  “I can’t imagine there will be a rush to claim his old, shriveled dick.”

  He glanced over. “Emma!”

  Did his wife just say…

  “Yes, I told you not to go there and I took the trip myself. I’m a horrible, horrible person.”

  He teased her, “Who are you? Where’s my wife?”

  Emma hopped up into the Navigator. “I’m right here, but apparently I’m arm candy with claws.”

  Funny, he was okay with that.

  As long as she was pointed in the right direction.

  * * *

  When he saw her trolling the website, he couldn’t believe it. Granted, she wasn’t using her real name, but he knew the face. He’d seen it before. She was very popular.

  At first, he was shocked, but also intrigued.

  This woman was kinky and had similar fantasies that he did. He knew instantly, she had to be his.

  Logging out of his account, he made sure he was connected to the shop’s Wi-Fi. When he logged back in, he found her smiling profile picture calling to him.

  He was almost giddy with excitement.

  It was hard to type.

  From the little green icon, she was online. Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d meet him.

  As he sat there, he scanned her fantasies. She liked being tied up and had a big turn on that he believed was meant for him.

  She was a lover of rape fantasies.

  Well, he could do that. In fact, he was known to do a very good job with that particular one. Look at his past conquests. Not one had complained.

  Then he laughed.

  Because they couldn’t…

  If that’s what she really wanted, why not give the woman the entire experience.

  He knew just the way to lure her in.

  Forget hooking up online.

  He’d just take her.

  That way, it would make her dreams come true.

  He knew the place to bring
her. Getting in and out was going to be easy. He was well versed with the layout.

  Now would come the hard part. He had to get the woman to come to him. As he sat there pondering the plan, it finally came to him. There was one specific way to catch this prize.

  Getting to work, he jotted down the steps.

  The hunt was on.

  The prey was in sight.

  He couldn’t wait.

  While he knew he should give it time, he couldn’t. The idea of taking her piqued his interest, giving his body a warm tingle.

  After the disappointment of the last ‘date’, he needed a little something more.

  Her.

  Now she was his fantasy, and he couldn’t live without her.

  * * *

  Monday Afternoon

  Back in the office, the Crofts found Curtis and Brynn working on some information. Neither looked happy, and that made Greyson worry.

  “Was it a bust?” he asked, knowing they were desperate to get a lead.

  “You could say that again,” Curtis offered. Then, he proceeded to tell them all about it. “We couldn’t find him. It’s a dead end.”

  “How does a Federal employee go missing?” Emma asked. “He loses his job, and then goes off the grid?”

  No one had an answer for that.

  “I’ll keep looking,” stated Curtis. “There has to be a trail somewhere. Unless he’s dead, it’s hard never to use your social security number or accounts again. When people go into hiding, it’s just too tempting to fall back on the past.”

  “Okay, well what else do we have?” Emma asked.

  Brynn took this one. “While we were running the dead women’s messages against each other, we found something that popped up.”

  “What?” Croft asked.

  “There were five different men, but they all used the same ISP address.”

  Curtis took over, “I’ve run it and found a location.” He rattled off the address and Emma scribbled it down.

  “Is it registered to Scott Greenfield?” Croft asked, knowing they determined that the man had dated both Lidia Martinez and Zara Harris.

  “No, it’s owned by a man named Arron Patterson.”