She and Sam were moving toward a relationship, but what kind? The man was handsome, sexy, a great father, sensitive, and nearly perfect. He was pushy and a take-charge man. Would he expect to take over her life if they became close? She wouldn't allow that. She had become so much stronger in the past year.
I'll be glad to be back in my own home, strange calls and all. We certainly can't stay here much longer, anyway. If the bad guys trace us here, my folks will be in danger.
The Lexis Sam had borrowed from his sister was a godsend. They were on the road toward I-75 when Sam's cell phone rang. "Drew? You find something already?" Sam slammed his palm against the steering wheel. "What do you mean he wasn't there?"
"Sam?" Brit leaned forward. Not good. What on earth could make the always-calm Sam, so upset? "What's wrong?"
He looked ready to strangle someone. Surely, he wasn't angry with his brother. Sam's forehead was so furrowed his brows nearly crossed. He slowed and pulled onto a grassy shoulder.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" he muttered. "How the Hell … ?" He paused.
Brit motioned to get his attention, but he waved her off. He held up a finger to tell her he'd tell her in a minute. The suspense was killing her. "What dunderhead let that happen?" He shook his dark head.
"Where? When? Okay, Okay, I'll tell her."
Brit nodded. Yeah tell me!
"Call you when I know where. Thanks, buddy."
"Sam, you're scaring me, just spit it out. What did Drew say?" If he didn't explain now, she'd strangle him.
"We're gonna spend the rest of the week at a motel."
"We are?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah? Why? I have a perfectly good house. You have a house, which I haven't seen and your son is out of town. We could go to Julie's, I have a key and she wouldn't mind."
Sam shook his head.
"You don't want to bring the haunting to your house?"
"That's not it." He shook his head and looked away at the traffic passing them.
"You aren't comfortable making love at my house?"
"No, Ma'am," Sam's grin when he looked back at her was positively wicked. "I could make love to you anywhere."
"Well?"
Why wouldn't he just tell her about the reason for the change in plans, about what Drew had said to set him off?
"What happened? Spit it out."
"He's loose. That bastard escaped on the way to court."
Brit's breath stopped in her chest. Surely, her lungs had stopped working. She didn't need to ask who escaped.
"Drew thinks Drake'll go to your house to finish what he started. I don't know if he's taken the time to chase me down, but he'll surely do that, if you don't show up at your house. We need to alert your family and mine. Who knows what he's been able to learn while he was in jail? What if Julie's on his hit list? If he knows she's close to you, he might look for her, if he can't find you. Maybe he's a computer hack, or maybe he knew your husband. We do know he's a sick bastard with connections."
Sam felt as though he couldn't stop talking. Brit looked at him with utter trust in her expression. If they could stay away from their homes for a day or two, maybe the police could find the menace and get him back in jail. Right. The keystone cops couldn't hold him. They probably couldn't capture him. Drew would be better, if he could get the necessary authority.
"Sam, I should go home. If he comes there --"
"No!" Sam interrupted. "No way will I let you --"
"Let me?" Brit enunciated. "Let me?" She looked magnificent in her anger. Her eyes flashed. She seemed to vibrate with energy. "You don't let me do anything."
Sam wasn't feeling calm. "That's not what I meant. What about when your friendly neighborhood attacker shows up at your house?" The idea made Sam's teeth hurt. "You know he will. What if he slips by your security system and attacks before we can get to him? No system is perfect and this guy is good. And what if he is already there, even as we speak?"
Her arms were crossed. The stubborn tilt of her chin made him wish they were in a hotel room already. He'd do his damnedest to convince her he was thinking of her own good.
"Sweetheart, let's just find a place to think things out while the law looks for the guy. They can make sure he's not at your house and set up a stakeout. We'll talk about it."
Monster whined. Sam let him out and clicked his leash on his collar. He walked away from the car.
After he returned, Brit said nothing while they drove toward Florence. Sam didn't for one second believe he'd won this round. He had some heavy convincing to do. She was ready to kick-ass!
* * * *
Douglas smiled. He'd outsmarted the guards and policemen. The teacher won't get away this time. The man in the courtroom restroom hadn't wanted to swap clothes with the prisoner.
With a bit of reconnaissance he'd found the perfect house in the teacher's neighborhood. The family was out of town. There were signs. The grass was overgrown for the neighborhood, in which other yards were immaculate. The mail truck passed the house without stopping. No junk mail? Strange. He could learn a lot about a people from their junk mail.
Dressed as a workman, Douglas had driven into the driveway and parked a newly acquired van. He'd spent time clipping shrubbery to watch the teacher's house.
An hour after Douglas had started his stakeout, a neighbor drove into the driveway next door. She checked her mail and newspaper box, then walked to check the mailbox and newspaper box at the end of the drive where Douglas worked.
By the time he'd been working six hours he'd grown impatient. How long would he have to watch for her? Either the teacher was sleeping away from home or she wasn't answering her phone. She had to come home sometime.
He had his story ready, but no one had bothered him. His disguise made him look like he belonged. Too easy!
* * * *
Two hours later and five miles outside of Florence, Sam stopped at a Haltons. Its column-decorated front was a tad much, but it had all the luxuries, including suites with Jacuzzis. Sam handled the check-in while Brit took Monster for a walk. The dog's protective attitude proved he felt his owner's tension.
Monster had watched as they unloaded the car with the help of a uniformed bellhop. The dog cowered in the elevator, leaning against Brit and quivering. Poor, big, old baby. Was he afraid of close spaces or just elevators? Sam carried the doggie bed.
Brit, Sam, and Monster had barely made it inside the room to check out the accommodations when two more bellhops arrived. One carried a bowl of fruit, the other a vase of red roses. Each ceremoniously placed his VIP offering in a place of honor, then unloaded the luggage cart. They refused tips and left. When Sam and Brit were alone, Brit took her time looking around.
She said nothing as she walked around the expensively appointed, parlor-type room. The furnishings screamed money and taste. The place had the feel of a classy apartment.
The red door to the bedroom should have warned Brit about the main piece of furniture. The opulent bed was fit for a sheik and large enough for a harem, its hangings, yards of plush white and gold fabric. There were enough pillows to support an orgy.
At the images that thought evoked, Brit imagined Sam's muscular body lounging on the bed. His green eyes would reflect the gold. His familiar dark eyebrows would arch in expectation. His body would beckon to her need.
Remembering she was supposed to be annoyed, she sauntered to the bathroom. Surprises awaited an unsuspecting guest.
"Holy sh … ?" she uttered. The large Jacuzzi sported gleaming gold handles and spout. Surrounding it were fat candleholders. Lights from the overhead chandler reflected in the mirrors, counters, more porcelain than she'd seen outside country club restrooms. The biggest surprise was the mirrors over the bidet.
"What have you done?"
"Would you believe it was the only available vacancy?"
"Not on your life." The room was designed for decadence.
"Look love, I thought it would be a perfect cover. No one would look fo
r us here, unless we told them to."
"Did you ask for the honeymoon suite?"
"I hinted we were honeymooning." Sam grinned.
"Sam." Brit geared up for an argument, again. "This suite is an unnecessary expense."
"When did you last check your answering machine?" He offered her his cell phone. "This phone is traceable but its location isn't." Maybe there would be a clue as to what to expect from the man who threatened her existence.
The man now feeding her dog in the foyer of this suite presented a threat to her independence. He was too masculine, too dependable, too protective, too easy to need.
Her phone messages should be rated X for violence. The things the bastard had suggested doing to her body were the kind seen in bondage movies. The intimate acts were not sexy. Knowing the police had listened to them, probably more than once, made her skin crawl. She couldn't go home. She didn't know where she could go without endangering whoever lived there.
"Sam, can you put me in touch with Drew?"
He punched in the code and handed the phone to her.
She shook her head as Drew answered. "I need your help. Could you ask your sister to select a hair color and makeup colors to change my look? I want to look totally different." She paused.
He wanted to know what his brother said, but Brit listened so intently he didn't interrupt. She chewed a hangnail. Her face flushed when she spoke again.
"I need for her to find a couple of bras, size 34." She glanced down at her chest. "Size 34 and padding for a D cup." She laughed. "We'll fake it. I'll need big sunglasses and slutty earrings. Ask her to help outfit me with tops and slacks. I can give her a credit card number, but it would be easier if I get cash and pay her back."
Sam guessed where she headed. When she asked Drew to outfit him, too, he admired her quick mind. He pictured himself wearing a fake mustache or beard, maybe a different hair color, or long hair like Drew's. Big, dark-rimmed glasses would be good.
Drew would surely find a good disguise for him, too. He had no intentions of letting his Teach anywhere near danger, but he didn't want to spoil her fun. No way would the cops let her near her house or Drake. He'd let them tell her.
He'd been at large only a few hours. The police would find him and put him back where he belonged. He'd show up at Brit's house sooner or later to finish his job. They'd get him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Sit," Brit pushed Sam toward an armchair. She punched the disconnect on his phone, then dialed her number. After responding to the necessary prompts, she handed the phone to Sam.
The first message could have been from a lover, a perverted one. "Hey, honey, I'll be home soon. I want you to get out your sexiest outfit. I'll enjoy taking it off with my teeth, one piece at a time. A bikini wax would be a good idea."
Sam jumped up to pace. Brit pushed him down again.
"Hmmm, you'll taste so good. I'm so horny just thinking about how you'll enjoy the little hurts. Maybe I'll tie you to the bed and beat you with my belt. You'll like the pain. Bet you're getting so wet thinking about it. Oh, shit! Oh, yes! Thinking about you is too much. Can't wait."
How had Brit listened to that without throwing up?
Call two was worse. "Where the Hell are you? I escaped to see you and you haven't been home. It's been hours. No one has come in or out of your house. I've been watching. Didn't you get my message? I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson, bitch. I'll bring my rope and tie you up. I had planned to be gentle, but I've changed my mind. You'll service me every way I can think of."
Sam felt the blood leave his face. He felt so cold, then so hot he thought his head would explode, but there was more ….
"Been giving it away? Are you still with that Daddy and his pretty son? I'll have to leave him a message, too."
Sam would have stood to pace, if his legs hadn't been too weak. Brit had listened to this crazy, perverted monster. How could she keep her cool? He looked at her, wanting to offer her comfort. He hurt for her.
"Maybe I'll borrow the kid and teach him a thing or two. He might learn something if I let him watch what I do to you."
Bastard, son-of-a-bitch. I'll kill him. We won't need the law. "Honey?" Sam tried again to rise, but she stopped him with a cold hand on his shoulder.
"Not yet, Sam. I'm still numb. You have to hear it all." Her voice was devoid of emotion.
The awful voice made his skin crawl. "Think he'll join us? You can teach him more than school lessons. You might be the first and last piece he gets. He might like a big cock instead. I haven't had me a virgin in a long time. Maybe I'll make Daddy watch before I cut his heart out."
Sam couldn't speak. He had to remember to breathe.
Brit moved to him. She pulled his head against her breasts and held him. His face was wet with his tears. The light pressure of her head against his comforted him. Her chest shook when she breathed deeply and slowly. She was crying, too. She needed comfort, but she was offering it to him.
Brit caressed Sam's dark hair. She felt his pain in ways she'd tried to ignore when she'd listened to the tape the first time. It hurt worse knowing Sam was hearing the filth, the threats to his son. She couldn't go home 'til things changed. She needed to feel clean again. She needed Sam. His back felt muscled and hard beneath her hands as she moved them in circles. His face against her breasts sent need racing through her blood.
"Sam," she whispered. "Sam, take a shower with me, help me wash away the filth for both of us." She leaned back to look at his tear stained face. "Come with me. We could use that decadent, overblown tub instead and soak."
Taking his hands in hers, she pulled him to his feet and led him through the bedroom and into the bathroom. She reached to turn the chandelier on low light.
Sam watched her, frozen.
Walking around the Jacuzzi, she turned on the shiny handled taps, running the water over her hand until the temperature was warm enough. Selecting decorative bottles from the vanity, she sprinkled a mixture of herbal scents into the water.
Her slacks and panties slid down her legs and she kicked them across the room. She felt his gaze on her pubic hair. His touch would have caused only slightly more need in her.
Sam's eyes flickered when she removed her shirt. The front catch on her bra slipped free, freeing her breasts. Sam still hadn't made a move. That didn't stop Brit.
She grabbed his shirt and yanked it open. Buttons flew across the floor. Sliding his shirt down his shoulders and arms, she licked his nipples. His chest invited her touch but she had plans. With effort, she unbuckled his belt and removed it. Slowly, her hand moved against his crotch before she unzipped his fly. She slid her fingers inside his briefs to caress his penis. Aroused and beautiful, she saw them in the mirrors around the tub.
When Brit reached around to turn off the water, Sam came to life. He kicked off his jeans and stepped close to her backside. His arousal rubbed against her. If she hadn't needed to wash away the memory of the calls, she'd have stayed where she was to see what Sam would do next. At this moment, she'd have let him make love to her any way he wanted. They both needed it.
Nah, she wanted to do things her way first.
"You first. Get in." Her voice was thick with desire. When Sam was seated in the tub, she climbed in and straddled him. Taking the scented soap, she lathered her hands then washed his chest. Her hands circled his nipples, slicking the thick, dark, hair on his chest. She moved her soapy hands over his shoulders, savoring the strength and smoothness of him.
She wanted him inside her soon. Sluicing water down her front, she rubbed her breasts against his chest.
Sam had tried to let her lead, but when her hands made contact with his belly and headed down, he pulled her above him. His mouth opened over her slick nipples and blew on them. Sliding her against his body, he dipped her front in the water, then raised her again to take a nipple in his mouth.
He took a vial from the selection on the shelf beside the tub, then uncorked it. Pouring scented oil into his palm,
he anointed her body, all of it.
When Brit could gain her knees again, she knelt and straddled Sam's arousal. When she felt him move against her, she sheathed him as far as she could.
Their joining was fast and furious. Brit needed Sam. She needed to vent some of her anger and helplessness, to feel like a woman in charge, instead of a victim. She needed to experience beautiful, mutual sex with someone she desired, someone who wouldn't defile her with perversion.
Her body spasmed, she came so hard she fell into the abyss, then soared. She collapsed against Sam, though he hadn't come yet.
It took all his control to hold back the explosion building inside, but he planned to fill her thoughts with him, leaving no room for anything frightening. Sam slowly paid homage to the woman who made him feel like he could conquer the world for her. She made him feel both needy and needed. There wasn't a tasty inch of her body he didn't lick or kiss with reverence. She was all woman and her responses made him feel all male.
When his strength returned, he stood with her legs wrapped around his waist and took her to the bed. Gently, he lowered his body to place her on the pile of pillows. Their damp bodies clung to the coverlet and each other. The way her whole body moved against his would have tempted even a saint.
"Hold that thought, sweetheart." He forced the words out.
"Where do you think you're going?" she purred.
"We haven't been exactly careful about using protection. You take away my ability to think. I'm being responsible while I remember what to do."
"Oh, that. Don't worry. I'm safe." She began to stroke that part of him that begged for her touch. He once again threw caution to the winds. If she wasn't worrying, he wouldn't worry either. Actually, he wouldn't mind if she became pregnant. He'd like a baby brother or sister for Sean. He'd love to hold a baby they had made together, one that looked like her.
Her ankles felt delicate in his rough hands. He loved the strength of her calves. Her knees were tempting, especially when he found her ticklish spots. Her thighs begged his attention. Suddenly he went brain dead. He couldn't think anymore, but he felt everything, smooth skin and soft hair, nipples hard as pebbles and a smooth expanse of throat.
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