“Oh, was I? Well, I guarantee that this cheerleader would have climbed all over you in high school, especially once she saw the tattoos,”
Blackhawk was still picturing it and the room was getting really warm.
“Let’s get you undressed.” Elizabeth pushed him from her body, so he stood beside the bed as she hopped off. She slid his shirt off his shoulders, leaving little openmouthed kisses across his back. Her fingers trailed across his muscles and tattoos, and she enjoyed feeling every curve of his body. It was delicious. As she moved to the front of him, she continued her exploration.
“Mmmmmmm, Lyzee baby,” he whispered, loving his wife’s hands sliding across his body.
“Very sexy, Mr. Blackhawk,” she replied, pulling his mouth down to hers and kissing him deep. It pulled another moan from him as proof he too, was thoroughly enjoying it.
Her hands worked on the buckle of his belt, and then the button and zipper. When his pants dropped with ease, he stepped out of them, preparing to pull his boxers off too. “Let me help you,” she whispered as she slowly lowered herself to her knees, tugging them down while her fingernails teased him the entire way. Elizabeth made sure her eyes never left his as she shared a promise of what was to come.
“Lyzee,” he whispered, as he watched mesmerized. She simply blew air across his erection and it hardened and bobbed by her face. “You're killing me, baby!”
“I haven’t touched you yet, Ethan,” she grinned, wickedly. “Want me to?”
“Please,” he begged, his mouth going dry.
Elizabeth stroked him with her hand and then ran the tip of her tongue across his erection. It was obvious that she was driving him wild and testing his control. Elizabeth moved to the base, and with one long lick had him involuntarily shuddering. “More Ethan?” she asked, looking up with large, innocent eyes.
“More Lyzee,” he pleaded, unable to stop watching her.
She took him in her mouth.
All of him.
Elizabeth slid him in and out, worshiping him as he was helpless to watch the eroticism of what his wife was doing to his body.
She was absolutely bewitching.
Elizabeth never broke eye contact, speeding up and slowing down, until his hands found her hair and he controlled the depth. Now he was pleasuring himself with her mouth, making her take him deeper.
Elizabeth was overheating as she watched her sexy husband’s face. It was one of pure bliss and rapture. She was definitely breaking out the cheerleading outfit next time. If thinking about it was getting him this hot, seeing would make him burn up.
Blackhawk forced himself to make her stop, or he wouldn’t make it. A man only had so much control, and she was causing it to fray quickly. His wife had a wicked mouth, and he again thanked the sex Gods that she was all his. As he pulled away, he helped her stand, pulling her to her feet and lifting her onto their bed. It was his turn to feast on her, and he planned to go slow and make her beg.
Ethan didn’t even remove the lingerie she was wearing. He could see the outline of her erect nipples through the material, and he placed his mouth over the first one, biting gently with his teeth. She writhed under his lips and ran her hands through his hair. He moved to the second one and did the same, enjoying when his wife arched into him as he continued the torture. He worked his way down her body, dying to plunder and take what was waiting for him. Blackhawk forced himself to move slow and steady. As he pushed the lingerie up, he found the tiniest scrap of lace and fabric, barely covering her. It made him wild and he refused to pull it off. Instead, he slid it to the side to sink deeper into her body.
Elizabeth was squirming under his mouth and his tongue. He was driving her insane and tormenting her body. She felt herself growing wetter and tighter, and knew she would be shattering soon.
With one more lick and a little bite, she shook and the inevitable happened. As she broke apart, he moved quickly, before her orgasm was over and while she was still sensitive. Driving into her body, he found his way home. The feeling was delicious, as she quivered around him. Ethan dropped down onto his elbows, his lips by her ear so he could whisper all the things he never thought to say to any other woman before. She wrapped her arms around him and then her legs, tipping her hips at every thrust, so he could have access to the deepest part of her. When she started to shake again, he felt it move through him.
“Oh God, Lyzee, so good,” he murmured as he allowed himself explode deep inside her.
“I love you, Ethan.” Elizabeth stayed wrapped around him, as they both drifted asleep together.
“I love you too, baby.” That moment he made another pledge, one she wouldn’t hear, but the most important one of his life. Quite possibly, it even surpassed their marriage vows. Ethan would keep her alive, no matter what.
Even if the final price was his own life.
In that moment he knew that he would die for the woman who owned his heart.
~ Chapter Seventeen ~
Early Friday Pre-Dawn
He stood there in the woods, moving closer to the house to inspect it. He had travelled this path before, navigating it in the pitch blackness with ease. Although there were lights on in her home, when he looked through his scope, he saw no motion. They had gone to bed, and he would have to leave. They would be no departure from the house tonight and that meant he had to find leverage to get her out in the open and to him. It looked like the FBI agent bought himself another day of life, for now.
The voice wanted a showdown, and he knew that there was one name remaining on the list that was left in town. He would be the bait to catch the second sheriff. She would come for the last person and risk her life almost admirably. By nightfall, he would have cleansed the town of another woman with no morals.
Elizabeth Blackhawk’s hours were numbered.
It was time.
“See you later, Sheriff,” he snickered, slinging his gun over his shoulder and walking to the bait’s home to get ready for what he had planned.
They had a date with destiny.
Early Friday Morning
She woke early, only to find that her husband was dead to the world. She remembered being like that right after a week of an assignment. Elizabeth stood, stripping from the lingerie that still carried the scent of her husband’s body and cologne. Now she would change into more appropriate clothing, even though she’d miss the scent of him.
Gone was the desire to sleep and back was the need to once more study their information. There was that tickle of awareness that she was missing something, and she needed to wrap her brain around it. With a light kiss on his cheek, she tucked strands of his hair behind his ear, just enjoying the way he slept on his back. He looked so peaceful and her heart filled with love for the man. There was that overwhelming feeling of awe whenever she looked at him, and she felt truly blessed to have found him.
Elizabeth tiptoed down the stairs and to the files sitting on the table. It was getting harder to fight off that feeling of desperation to solve these murders. Justice needed to be found, and she needed to locate the thread to pull it together.
* * *
He knocked on the door, knowing the man would let him into his home. Doc Trudeaux was a very nice person and sadly that would be one of the reasons he was chosen. Well, that and he shared a name with one of the wicked from Salem. He waited patiently until the door opened.
“My boy, what’s wrong?” he asked alarmed as he saw him standing there. “It’s barely six in the morning.”
“I’m sorry, Doc, but I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”
“Yes, absolutely!” Doc turned his back walking away from him, and it would be the last thing he would remember until he woke tied up and ready to die.
He moved fast as he incapacitated the man.
“I’m sorry Samuel Trudeaux, but you're my bait. Yours is the final name on the list.”
* * *
Blackhawk stirred and once again she was gone. All that remained was the scent of h
er perfume on the sheets. He was starting to get used to waking alone, but it was becoming somewhat irritating. He really wanted one morning to catch her warm and ready for him, and to make love to her until they both woke together.
Touching her side of the bed, he could tell she’d been gone for a while. Her pillow was cold and it no longer held the indentation of her head from rest. Blackhawk reached for his phone and realized he left it on the couch.
His first priority would be a caffeine fix, before he started his day. Ethan threw on his jeans, skipping the shirt, because he knew it might lure her back into his arms. As he padded downstairs to find his wife, there was this feeling brewing deep within his gut. It was all coming to a head, and today the bad vibrations were filling his body. There was this uneasy feeling stirring about him. He’d felt it many times before, and often at the end of an assignment. Rarely was his gut wrong, and it was telling him one thing.
Something was coming.
Elizabeth stared out the patio window. On her back porch sat the largest, blackest raven she had ever seen in her life. It watched her with beady black eyes, uncaring of her approach.
She’d seen it before.
It was an exact replica of the tattoo on her husband’s chest, except its wings were spread and this bird just sat there on guard. Elizabeth opened the door and still it didn’t move. It remained stationary, watching as if waiting for her. Another step, and yet still nothing. Standing motionless, both woman and bird sat transfixed in each other’s company.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel like it was trying to tell her something.
She had never had the privilege to have one this close to her before, and she was mesmerized by the inky black feathers. They reminded her of her husband’s eyes, not quite black but in the light, a midnight blue. She took another step closer to the bird, testing the boundaries and wondering why it chose today to make its visit. Was this some sign?
It had to be, since she didn't believe in coincidence.
Blackhawk grabbed coffee in a desperate attempt to wake. As he walked to the open patio door, there was the immediate rush of alarm. He could see the tank top his wife was wearing, and that meant there wasn’t a vest protecting her body. His heart skipped a beat and then two. Before he could make a comment, he saw why she wasn’t moving on their patio.
Outside the glass door stood his wife and a large raven.
All the stories of his youth rushed back to him, the heritage he worked so hard to bury so deep fought to resurface. The raven was a messenger and a harbinger of the Gods. Part of him wanted to believe it, and part of him wanted to call it coincidence. Pushing hard into his past, he tried to remember the words of his grandfather depicting the majestic raven.
The bird was the watcher of battlefields. It would soar over war and strife, claiming those who were to cross into the other side of the Great Spirit world. Now he felt sick, thinking this bird was here to tell them something ominous.
He wouldn’t believe it, he couldn’t.
It was coming for his Elizabeth.
Blackhawk forced his mind back to when he was eighteen. At that age, he believed himself to be bad ass and tough. In a moment of stupidity, he had gotten the raven inked across his body. Needing something so defiant and over the edge, he went with his childhood nickname and picked the mighty bird that called to him. Ethan’s heritage was struggling to the surface, trying to warn him that change was coming, and he could feel it in the air.
Inadvertently, his hand rubbed the tribal tattoo on his one bicep. It was the one with his family symbols and feathers. Even two thousand miles away, his past had found him, and now it had found Elizabeth too.
As he stepped onto the patio, he fully expected the bird to fly at his arrival. Instead, it simply stood transfixed. Its beady black eyes were watching his wife and ignoring him. It cocked his head, blinking once and then stepped cautiously towards her.
Oh God, please no!
To Blackhawk’s horror, she reached out her fingers and touched the side of the raven, as if petting it. When she spoke to the bird, he wanted to scare it away; all of this unnerved and terrified him.
“Why are you here?” she whispered, shocked it allowed her to stroke it. “Are you here for me?” she asked, unaware her husband stood behind her.
With a loud caw, the bird gave its reply before spreading its beautiful wings and escaping to a tree high above. It sat just out of reach, but still staring down and watching them. Elizabeth turned, finally sensing her husband behind her. The panic stricken look on his face said everything that she needed to know. The terror was now plastered across his face in tension and worry lines.
“It’s an omen, isn’t it?” she asked, not one to believe in things she couldn’t touch, but this raven was real. She’d felt the cool, inky feathers with her own fingers and it rattled her. “I usually don’t believe in such things, but I feel like I’ve just been warned.”
Blackhawk didn’t have an answer for her. What he rationally believed and what he was taught growing up in his culture were doing battle in his heart and mind. In that moment, he had that feeling again that something was brewing and it didn’t bode well.
Going with his gut, he gave her his initial response. “I’m torn on whether it is or not,” he said, pulling her into his body, protectively. “I woke feeling off, and the raven means a change is coming,” he said, clinging to his wife out of desperation. “My grandfather once told me when the majestic raven crosses your path that a message is being sent to you from the spirit world.” There was no way in hell he was telling her about the raven soaring over battlefields of death.
“I hope it’s a good message,” she said, softly. “Is that why you got the tattoo?”
Blackhawk continued to eye the large bird in the tree. “My grandfather gave me the nickname of Raven, when I was a boy.”
“Why a raven, Ethan?”
“A few times I saw them in my dreams, and often they turned up around me. In my heritage we pick a spirit guide that we can relate to, and I just always saw them everywhere.”
Elizabeth thought back to her own dreams with the ravens asking her name. Now they made sense.
Maybe there was validity to this dream thing.
Now it was time to tell her the embarrassing part about his past and family. “My grandfather is very old school. He believes in spirits and such. He once had a dream where I was being followed by the raven and it became part of me. I was told to always behold the raven and its message. So, when I see one, I don’t forget what he told me growing up as a boy,” he paused. “I know it’s silly but it just stuck.”
“I don’t think it’s silly,” she answered truthfully. Elizabeth knew his past was painful, and she offered him reassurance. “And the tattoo?”
“The tattoo was something I did in a moment of impulse with someone that was part of my past. He got his spirit guide and I got mine.” Blackhawk didn’t elaborate, that part of his youth wasn’t up for discussion yet.
He wasn’t ready.
Elizabeth was staggered by how much she didn’t know about him. “I think when this is all over, we need to have a discussion. I just realized I don’t know anything about your life or your heritage. I should know everything, as your wife.”
Blackhawk knew it had to happen, and she deserved to know but now wasn’t the time. “As soon as we clean up this mess, and we decide what to do with our careers, it’s on my list.”
“Okay, Ethan.” Elizabeth would give him this for now, because he had let her tell him about Ray when she was ready.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Elizabeth,” he swore, desperation in his voice. He hoped and prayed he could keep his word to her. He watched the bird sitting in the tree high above her house, as it sent a silent message. He returned the message that he would give his own life for hers and she was off limits.
“I believe you, and I’ll keep you safe too, Cowboy.” She tried to lighten his mood, since he suddenly looked somber. “Yo
ur phone’s been beeping like mad,” she added, hoping to distract him as she led him back inside.
“Was it?”
“Yes. That reminds me. Who called last night before we went to bed?” she poured herself more coffee.
“They found Dansforth yesterday. He was caught when they pulled him over for speeding,” he answered, holding out his cup as she refilled it.
“I don’t know if he’s guilty yet,” Elizabeth said, “but I know how the killer did it.”
Blackhawk’s attention was jerked back to his wife. “Please don’t tell me the raven told you,” he said, hoping he could find humor in it, but then he remembered back to the year of prophesizing dreams that led him to her. Maybe he shouldn’t be so fast to discredit his grandfather and his words. After all, he just watched her pet a giant raven on their patio.
One that matched his tattoo.
“No, the raven didn’t tell me, Ethan,” Elizabeth answered, smiling, “I was looking out the door at the garden, and it occurred to me that I think I know how he drugged all the women, and what he used.” She walked around the counter, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. Picking up his tablet, she minimized a box and pulled up a list of plants and pointing at the one.
“Foxglove?” he asked. “It was death by flower?”
“Digitalis comes from Foxglove,” she said, maximizing the picture of the flower and showing him.
It was amazing how something so beautiful, could be so deadly.
“Yes, I think he was using dried leaves to get the toxins into their bodies. Tox screens kept showing a drug, but nothing debilitating. Ever smoke in your life?”
He nodded and laughed. “I used to,” he said, watching her grin. “I did a great deal in my wild, misspent youth. Smoked, fought, and got into a shitload of trouble.”
“Do you remember that nicotine rush? How you would get the dizziness, the lightheadedness, and then it would phase out?”
The Killing Times (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 1)) Page 41