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Keepers of the Cave

Page 18

by Gerri Hill


  God. Yeah, Paige was a darling. She was innocent—she was polished and refined. But damn, she had a raunchy side that CJ couldn’t wait to explore.

  Suzette and Becca tried to keep the conversation going, but neither she nor Paige were contributing much. She wondered if they could feel the tension in the car. With the silence lengthening, CJ could hear Paige’s breath, knowing Paige was as aroused as she was. Against her better judgment, she took Paige’s hand and pulled it between her legs. Paige didn’t hesitate as she spread her fingers, pressing against her.

  Paige leaned closer, her words barely a whisper. “Don’t tempt me,” she warned. “Because I’ll do it.”

  Paige stroked her so slowly, CJ nearly moaned out loud from the pleasure of it. She’d lost all sense of propriety and decorum, forgetting that they were in a car with another couple. Thankfully, Paige hadn’t. She pulled her hand away, pausing to squeeze her thigh before removing her touch completely. “Soon” was whispered into her ear.

  After what seemed like hours, Suzette finally stopped the car in front of their house. CJ didn’t want to take the time for pleasantries, but Paige held her hand tightly, preventing her from sprinting into the house.

  “Thanks for driving,” Paige said. “We need to return the favor next time,” she offered.

  “Oh, we don’t mind,” Becca said. “You two lovebirds have a good night.”

  CJ matched their knowing smiles, too aroused to care if they were mocking them or not. She waved them away, then suddenly turned shy as she realized, finally, they were alone. What if Paige changed her mind? What if she had second thoughts? The darkness prevented her from reading Paige’s eyes and she stood still, waiting.

  Paige moved first, taking her hand and letting their fingers entwine. CJ let out a nervous breath. She thought she might just die right there if Paige decided that this was a mistake. But it was Paige who led them inside, Paige who kicked the door shut and locked it, not bothering with the lights. And it was Paige who reached for her shirt, pulling it roughly over CJ’s head before pinning her to the door.

  This snapped CJ into action, her hands fumbling with Paige’s jeans as Paige fumbled with hers. CJ lost the battle when Paige’s hand stole inside, past the waistband of her underwear. She felt her knees weaken as, without preamble, Paige’s fingers slid through her wetness, not pausing until she was inside her. They both let out strangled moans before their mouths found each other. CJ’s hips rocking against Paige’s hand, only to have Paige withdraw her fingers.

  “Bed,” she murmured against her lips.

  CJ groaned. “God, woman, are you trying to kill me?”

  Paige smiled slightly when she reached around CJ and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. CJ’s breath stalled as Paige’s fingers traced slowly around both nipples. “This isn’t like before,” Paige said, her voice quiet, soft. “We don’t have to rush.”

  CJ tried to smile but couldn’t. “I’m about to explode here.”

  “And I’m going to take care of that for you.” Paige kissed her, lips and tongue teasing. “But not with my hands,” she whispered.

  If CJ hadn’t had the wall for support she may very well have collapsed. Paige took her hand and CJ followed her into the bedroom on wobbly legs. She was normally the one in control, the one who took the lead. But she felt powerless as she stood still, staring, watching as Paige removed her own shirt and bra. Paige was clearly the one in control. The sound of rushing blood filled her ears, and she was nearly trembling when Paige finally came to her, deft fingers unzipping her jeans all the way and pushing them down her legs. CJ kicked off her shoes and stepped out of her jeans, leaving her standing naked, watching in anticipation as Paige slowly lowered her own jeans, tossing them away haphazardly.

  A part of her couldn’t believe this was really happening. Another part of her—a very small part—wondered at the wisdom of this, knowing they were trampling over all sorts of rules and protocols. But when Paige’s mouth and lips moved across her skin, when her hands cupped her breasts, she lost all thoughts of protocol. Her head fell back as Paige’s mouth closed over a nipple, her tongue swirling around it, causing CJ to moan softly.

  “Bed,” Paige said again, her mouth leaving CJ’s breast, urging her back to the bed.

  CJ complied, pulling Paige down with her, letting Paige cover her body with her own. There was no time for thoughts as Paige’s mouth, hands, skin, seemed to be everywhere at once. CJ let her have complete control even though her body was screaming for release. She spread her thighs, her hips arching against Paige’s stomach, feeling her wetness coat Paige’s skin, knowing Paige was just as wet. But Paige refused to be hurried. Her mouth left CJ’s, making a slow and deliberate path to her breast.

  “God, Paige,” she gasped, her breath hissing between her teeth as Paige sucked a nipple into her mouth. “Please, I need you.” Her voice sounded hoarse—and aroused—to her own ears as she gasped for air. “Paige...please.”

  Paige released her nipple, her teeth raking across it in a deliciously painful kiss. CJ moaned into it, her hips thrusting against Paige, seeking contact.

  “Open for me,” Paige whispered against her skin.

  “God, yes.”

  Then there was no more waiting. Paige spread her thighs even more, holding her open as an insistent tongue swept against her clit, pausing there long enough for CJ to clench her fists together, then moving on, slicing through her wetness, delving inside of her. CJ whimpered at the contact, her hips thrusting hard against Paige’s face, burying her tongue deeper inside her. Paige allowed her only a few strokes before pulling out and settling over her clit. She sucked it hard into her mouth and CJ’s hips left the bed, grinding against Paige. Her mouth was open, gasping for breath, her soft moans tangling with the guttural sounds coming from Paige as she licked and tugged on her.

  CJ wanted to prolong it—the sweet and painful torture—but Paige’s mouth, and now her fingers, wouldn’t allow it. She gave in to her body’s release with one last hard thrust, her throat raw as she screamed out Paige’s name.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Paige stretched slowly, her body wonderfully sore. She sighed contentedly, her fingers lightly brushing against the arm that was still draped possessively across her stomach. Being with CJ was as exhilarating as she remembered. Now, like then, she wondered if it had been a mistake. If so, she’d made it willingly. Nonetheless, they were still working a case, and it probably wasn’t the wisest thing she’d ever done.

  “We probably shouldn’t have done that,” she said quietly. She felt CJ smile against her neck.

  “Which time? The first or the sixth?”

  Paige rolled over onto her back, turning to CJ. Her eyes were still closed, but she looked so peaceful, so...“God, you’re so beautiful,” she whispered, giving voice to her thoughts.

  Eyes fluttered open, finding hers, then closed again. “Do you know what I regret about that first time?”

  “What?”

  “This, the morning,” CJ said. “I regret not waking up with you.” She rolled onto her back too, eyes open now as she stared at the ceiling. “I never wake up with anyone. I always escape first. That morning, when I woke, I reached for you, but you were already gone.”

  Paige turned to her side, her hand moving lazily across CJ’s skin, her eyes raking over her small breasts, her dark nipples. She didn’t know what to say. Yes, she’d been the one to take off that morning, fleeing before dawn, back to the safety of her own house. Now, here, there was no place for either of them to escape to. But unlike that first time, Paige didn’t feel the need to run. She hoped CJ didn’t either.

  “Like I said last night, this isn’t like the first time,” she said. “We can’t ignore this, we can’t run from it. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

  “Is that what happened the first time?” CJ asked. “Did we pretend it didn’t happen?”

  “After those first few awkward weeks, yes, I think we did. Don’t you?” C
J turned and faced her, her eyes searching. Paige wondered what questions she had.

  “It feels different this time. Is it?”

  Paige wasn’t sure what answer CJ was hoping to get. What was the question behind the question? She chose her words carefully. CJ rarely let her vulnerability show, and she never left herself as unguarded as she was now. “I think it’s different this time because we don’t have an excuse,” she said. “Last time, we could blame it on the case, on our need of a diversion from it. It’s different now because—” she paused, not knowing how much to tell CJ without having her running scared. Even then, she didn’t see the point of glossing over the truth. “Last night was different because it was about us,” she said. “It was about the attraction we have between us. Last night had nothing to do with this assignment and the roles we’re playing. Last night was about...us.”

  CJ smiled slightly. “I’ve always been attracted to you, Paige.”

  Paige nodded. “I know. I’ve always been attracted to you too. That’s why it was so hard playing this game. So hard trying to resist.”

  CJ leaned up on one elbow, resting her head in her palm. “You never wanted to be attracted to me though, did you?”

  It was more of a statement than a question, but Paige decided she deserved an honest answer. “No. It scared me, really. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever been with, not like anyone I’d ever date,” she said. It was the wrong thing to say, apparently, as CJ’s expression changed and the openness she was showing Paige disappeared.

  “Yeah, you’ve made that clear several times. I’m not quite on your level. I’m certainly no...Seth,” she said.

  Paige wasn’t going to let her retreat. She pushed CJ back and straddled her hips, holding her down by both wrists.

  “We’re not going to play games, CJ. Not this time. We slept together. Willingly. With no excuses.” She bent her head, kissing CJ’s breast softly. “I don’t want there to have to be excuses. We’re attracted to each other, like it or not. This was inevitable. Last night was...extraordinary,” she said. “I don’t want us to have to conjure up a reason as to why.” She met CJ’s gaze, still seeing a wariness there. “Please stop belittling yourself. I’ve never once said you weren’t good enough. There are so many things about you that I admire.” She looked away for a second, then back. “There are also things about you that I don’t like. You already know what those are.”

  CJ nodded, then flipped them over easily, resting her weight on top of Paige now. Paige tried to read her eyes, but CJ wouldn’t allow it.

  “Okay. No games,” she said. “And no more pretending. And no more skirting the issue.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I’m not going to pretend that I haven’t wanted to get you naked every night and make love to you.” CJ lowered her head, her tongue swirling around a nipple. “And I’m going to stop pretending that I don’t want to take a shower with you. That’s a wonderful fantasy I’ve had.” Paige moaned as CJ’s lips closed over her nipple. “And I won’t pretend that I haven’t dreamed of doing this to you,” she said as a hand slid between their bodies, moving unquestionably into the wetness that she’d caused.

  Paige drew her closer, bringing CJ’s mouth up to meet her own. “Okay. And I’ll stop pretending that I don’t want this. Because I do.”

  She raised her hips as CJ entered her, all other thoughts fading as CJ slowly, and surely, made love to her.

  ***

  Paige closed the oven door and set the timer on her phone. The casserole was sinfully delicious, mixed with cheese and sour cream. Adding broccoli to it satisfied her healthy meter even though it was loaded with calories. Quite simply, CJ loved it and Paige wanted to make it for her. It also would afford them leftovers for a few days.

  She eyed the bottle of wine, then glanced at the clock. It was early to be starting dinner, but they were both ravenous, to say the least. Breakfast had been quick and light, both more interested in the shower they were going to share than in eating. Lunch had been missed entirely. The only thing that had pulled them from bed was a call from Ice. They’d located Leah Turner’s car. It had been submerged in Toledo Bend Lake. They were still going over it for evidence, but the fact that the lake was only about forty miles from Hoganville gave a bit more credence to their assignment.

  It also threw up more questions than answers.

  She again contemplated the wine bottle. CJ would be back soon. She’d taken a drive around campus, an excuse to allow her to stop by Avery’s house. They needed to meet with him, but she wanted to make it as inconspicuous as possible. Mainly, without Chief Aims getting suspicious. They finally settled on a dinner invitation. They would leave it up to Avery to decide which night.

  She was fingering the corkscrew, about to open the wine when she saw Fiona drive up next door.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered when Fiona got out of the car. She had seen her on Friday and while she was starting to show, it was nothing like this. She looked seven months pregnant. Well, as she’d said before, it wasn’t any of her business and she was going to leave it at that but she saw Fiona double over, in obvious pain. Wine forgotten, Paige ran out the door and across the road, reaching her just as Fiona tried to stand back up.

  “Sweetie, are you okay?” Paige asked, helping her to straighten. She gasped audibly when she saw her. Pale and ashen, her face drawn, Fiona wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Fiona?”

  “I’ve felt better,” she finally said.

  “Let me help you inside,” Paige said, still holding tightly to her arm. “Should you be driving?”

  “Considering I had to stop and throw up six times, probably not.”

  Paige pushed Fiona’s door open, no longer thinking it odd that no one locked their doors. She led her to the lone recliner and helped her to sit.

  “Have you seen a doctor?” she asked.

  Fiona shook her head.

  “Don’t you think you should? I mean, maybe there’s something wrong,” she said, touching her forehead, surprised at how warm she was. “You have a fever.”

  “Mother Hogan gave me something for the nausea,” Fiona said, and Paige wondered if she even realized how casually she said Mother Hogan. That was twice now that she’d heard Ester Hogan referenced that way. Further evidence that she was in control of the family.

  Paige sat down on the sofa next to her, genuinely concerned with her wellbeing. “Is there anything I can do? Can you keep anything down? Broth?”

  Fiona shook her head. “The thought of eating something...well, makes me sick,” she said with a quick smile. “Can you just stay and visit for a while?”

  “Of course.”

  “Where is CJ?”

  “Oh, she’s just making her rounds,” she said evasively. “I think it was an excuse to get out of the house.”

  “It’s so hot today, I can’t imagine why she’d want to be out.” Fiona leaned back. “How was the dance?”

  “It was fun. There was a live band,” she said, watching the pain cross Fiona’s face. “Sweetie, I think you really need a doctor.”

  Fiona shook her head. “In my bag,” she said, pointing to the large purse she’d dropped by the door. “Mother Hogan gave me something for the pain.”

  Paige hesitated, her concern for Fiona overriding her need to stay focused on the job. “Is she a doctor?”

  At this, Fiona smiled. “No, not in the traditional sense.”

  “But there is a doctor?”

  “Yes. But Mother Hogan doesn’t allow me to see him.”

  Paige thought that statement was odd, but she made no mention of it. She brought the purse over to her, then watched as Fiona pulled out a small container and shook it. “Glass of water and a spoon?”

  “Of course,” Paige said, quickly going into the kitchen and filling a glass.

  Fiona poured some of the powder into the glass and stirred. The water turned a chalky color. Judging by Fiona’s face as she drank it, the taste was abysmal.

  “Why
can’t you see the doctor?” Paige asked, wondering if she was treading where she should not.

  Fiona didn’t seem to mind the questions, but her answer gave nothing away. “It’s complicated.”

  Paige knelt down beside her and took her hand. “You call her ‘mother.’ She seems too old to be your mother,” she said.

  Fiona shook her head. “She’s not my biological mother, no. Her brother, Antel, is my father. But my mother and my father have never lived together.”

  “So Ester is really your aunt then?”

  “Technically, yes,” she said, her voice low, her eyes slipping closed.

  “Fiona?”

  Her eyes fluttered open for a second. “I’m very tired.”

  Paige wondered what kind of drug concoction Ester Hogan had given her. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Fiona didn’t protest as Paige helped her up. Her bedroom was very simple and neat, the bed made with care. Paige pulled the covers back, then wondered if she should suggest Fiona get undressed. Fiona kicked her shoes off, then laid down on her side, her hands cupping her protruding belly. Within seconds she was sound asleep.

  Paige stared at her, shaking her head. Something was very wrong, she knew. She watched in fascination as Fiona’s hands moved, her baby’s kick fierce enough to make them jump. With a sigh, she gently pulled the covers over Fiona. She would check on her later. If Ester Hogan wouldn’t allow Fiona to see a doctor, perhaps Gretchen, the school nurse, could offer some advice. That is, if even that was allowed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “You should have seen her. She looked...ghost-like,” Paige said, putting the hot casserole dish on the stovetop and closing the oven door with her foot. “I was ready to take her to San Augustine myself.”

  “She can’t possibly be that big already.”

  “I know. But she is. And all the ‘Mother Hogan’ stuff is weird. I mean, I like Fiona, I really do. She’s sweet. I can’t help but think—if this is some sort of cult—that she’s being forced into this pregnancy.”

 

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