Tropic of Trouble

by Wynter Daniels

  Mike rolled his head back and moaned.

  She grasped the root and took him all the way inside her mouth, flicking her tongue and raking her teeth over his length. His pleasured growls inspired her to stay the course. But after a couple minutes, she felt him growing too close to his orgasm. And she had other plans for him. She gave his cock a final swipe with her tongue, then looked up at him and licked her lips. “There’s oil on the nightstand.” She didn’t have to say another word.

  “I remember.” He leaned toward it and grabbed the small plastic vial. Squeezing a small amount on his cock, he grinned down at her. Shifting higher up her body, he pushed her breasts together and slipped his hard-on between them.

  “You remember how much I like pearl necklaces, huh?” She squirmed against the moisture collecting in her pussy.

  “Yeah, I remember. I remember everything.”

  She grinned, knowing he’d take care of her needs. Better than anyone ever had. She took hold of her breasts, nudging him away. He gave her a wink then reached behind him to cup his hand over her mound.

  Desire bloomed inside her as he rubbed flesh over bone. He spread her intimate lips and slipped a couple fingers along her soaked creases. She strummed her thumbs over her erect nipples as she rocked her hips.

  Mike knew exactly how to touch her, just how to tease her closer and closer to rapture. He circled a finger around her button then pushed through her entrance, stroked inside her. They fell into their rhythm as he fucked her cleavage with his cock and her pussy with his finger.

  She glanced at his shaft and found another drop of his seed welling at the slit, but she couldn’t reach her tongue that far to get it.

  Soon enough I’ll get all I want.

  Her pleasure grew to a pounding pitch, consuming her, concentrating her attention to her impending orgasm. Her breath hitched and everything fell away. Sucked under into oblivion, she came in a crescendo of ecstasy. Blissful aftershocks convulsed her body.

  Mike’s pace sped up as he thrust between her breasts. She recognized his knotted brow and darkening gaze. He covered her hands with his and pistoned toward her chin.

  “Oh fuck, yes. Yes, yes.” Ropes of semen spewed from his cock, covering her chest. She opened her mouth and caught a spray of his salty passion. Hot, thick liquid covered her skin, giving her the necklace she’d wanted.

  Mike stared down at her, his chest heaving. “We’re so good together, Jen.”

  “Don’t spoil it, Mike. We’ve been through this.” She gave him a gentle push to remind him he was still sitting on her. He climbed off and she went for the night table drawer to get towels. She wiped herself off then handed him a towel.

  He stretched out on the bed and rubbed a hand over her back. “When I saw you last night at the bookstore, I realized how much I missed you. I hate not being together.”

  She’d felt the same thing, but as long as he was a cop, she refused to even consider anything long term.

  Change the subject.

  She snuggled beside him. “Any leads on the murder yet?”

  He huffed. “It’s an ongoing investigation. You know I can’t divulge much at this point. I can tell you we’re questioning other vagrants who hang out in that area.”

  “What do you mean other vagrants?” She turned so she could see his face. “You’ve already made up your mind that it was one of them who killed Margaret, huh? What about broadening your investigation to include other possibilities?”

  His jaw clenched. “So now you’re a cop too? It’s not enough that Jason’s second-guessing me, huh?” He rolled onto his other side. “This is all I fucking need. Thanks.”

  “I’m just saying you’re writing off anything but what you’ve pigeonholed the crime to be. How is that good police work?”

  He twisted to face her. “I do not want to talk about this with you. Now shut up and go to sleep or I’ll have to fill your mouth with something to make you be quiet.”

  She couldn’t hold back a laugh. But maybe she’d planted a seed that would grow as he slept. Closing her eyes, she wriggled against him. She didn’t want to argue, not when they had so few moments together. Allowing herself this indulgence was a rare treat. Why spoil it?

  * * * * *

  What the hell was she up to? He held a fist to his mouth and studied her on the video on his computer. He’d expected the hidden camera to catch her banging some young stud but after weeks of surveillance, the worst he’d observed was her smoking inside the house. Something he’d expressly forbidden, but hardly what he’d anticipated.

  That gut feeling he’d been having lately—as if she was up to no good—clawed at him. He’d put units in their bedroom, the kitchen, the living room. None showed her doing anything she shouldn’t. Except being the lazy, spoiled bitch she’d always been.

  Unless her trysts took her elsewhere. Maybe he ought to hire a private detective to follow her. No, he didn’t need someone else knowing their secrets, giving them fodder for blackmail.

  Would she have an internet affair? Probably considered herself too highbrow for something like that. She never let him forget how much better than he she thought herself, with her hoity-toity pedigree and her privileged upbringing. Bastard father of hers had never tired of reminding him how she’d lowered herself to marry him. But he’d put an end to that.

  As the video progressed, she seemed nervous suddenly. She stood at her dresser but kept glancing toward the door as if she were afraid she’d be caught doing something she shouldn’t. Easing open the top drawer, she lifted out a small black book and flipped to the middle. Another glance at the door. She took a phone out of her pocket and called someone.

  Damn it! Why hadn’t he bought the camera with audio? She pressed a couple buttons then returned the cell to her pocket. He stopped the frame, backed it up and zoomed in. What happened to the pink phone he’d given her? This one was larger and silver.

  His chest tightened and rage coursed through his veins. That lying bitch. Should have known he couldn’t trust her. Of course, he had known. Otherwise he wouldn’t have filmed her. He backed up the video to the part where she took out the book. He froze the frame and enlarged it.

  Leaning his head closer, he squinted, made out numbers hand written on the page, too faint to read. Fighting his instinct to go upstairs, yank her out of bed and beat the living shit out of her, he merely fisted his hands. If he tipped her off, he might not find out what she was really up to. He thought she’d learned her lesson the last time she’d disobeyed him, but apparently she needed more incentive not to fuck with him.

  After she woke her lazy ass up tomorrow morning, he’d send her shopping or something. She loved spending his money now that she had none of her own.

  Bitch.

  With her gone, he’d search for that silver cell phone and her little black book.

  God help her if he learned she was up to no good. He’d kill the bitch for cheating on him. Whoever she was screwing would pay the price too. No one would make a fool of him. He’d make them both wish they’d never been born.

  Chapter Four

  Kelsey crossed her legs and wriggled in the desk chair at her shop. If only she hadn’t indulged in a large latte on her way to work, the need to relieve herself wouldn’t be quite so urgent now.

  Ignore it.

  Why hadn’t she considered she’d have to go through the storeroom to access the bathroom before? She’d tried twice already but the instant she approached the doorway, the vision of Margaret’s lifeless body came crashing back to her mind.

  When the door chime rang, she looked up from the computer screen and managed a smile for Jason. “Hey. How are you?” She tried to summon her irritation from the night before last, but all she could think about was his broad shoulders and chiseled features. Well, that and her full bladder.

  He strode to the counter. “I’m…okay.” He leaned his elbows on the wood, a little too close.

  From this distance she couldn’t escape his clean, piney scent
or the pull of those emerald eyes. He wore his hair military short, but long enough for a woman to grab on to in a moment of passion. Her imagination filled in the blanks of what that moment would look like.

  Jason unbuttoning her shirt, tearing away the flimsy fabric of her bra to get at her peaked nipples. He’d suckle them until she moaned, then move his attention lower as he pushed her skirt up over her hips. Forcing her thighs apart so he could get to her intimate lips, slide his tongue along her wet folds…

  He waved a hand in front of her face, yanking her out of the daydream.

  Face on fire, she let out a nervous cough. “Sorry. Got lost in thought.”

  He squinted at her as if she was a bit of an idiot, which she was, of course, for having such crazy thoughts. Then he motioned toward the back of the store. “Have you gone in there yet?”

  She tensed and swallowed hard. How did he know she’d avoided the storage room all day? She chewed on her bottom lip, dropped her eyes.

  He reached across the counter and squeezed her hand sending a jolt of heat rippling over her skin. “That’s perfectly normal, Kelsey. Do you want me to make sure the crew took care of everything?”

  When the cleaning service had called her to make arrangements yesterday morning, she’d initially resented that Jason had taken it upon himself to set up the appointment. But now she realized how kind and caring he’d been to think of that detail, which spared her the grim task. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  Marching past tall shelving units and several high stacks of books, he made his way to the back room and pushed aside the curtain. He stood there a second then turned back to her. “It’s fine. Want to come see?”

  Gut clenched, she shook her head. “Not yet.” But she’d wet herself if she had to wait too much longer.

  He returned to the desk and offered his hand. “I’ll go with you.”

  Sucking in a calming breath, she let him lead her through the shop, slowly. She stopped in the doorway, grabbed the frame to steady herself. “I-I don’t think I can.”

  “I’m right here. You can do it. I’ll help you.” Grasping her shoulders, he looked straight into her eyes. “If you’re not ready, we’ll try again later, but eventually, you’re going to have to cross the threshold.”

  Nausea swirled in her stomach. Visions of Margaret’s body flashed in her mind accompanied by the guilt of knowing she bore part of the blame. If only she hadn’t left Margaret all alone.

  “What do you say?” He eased the curtain open. “Want me to go first?”

  Nothing was back there, not anymore, nothing but an awful memory, still too fresh. Her mouth grew parched and her hands felt suddenly clammy.

  I can do this. I have to.

  Clenching her teeth, she steeled herself against her fear. She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake. She didn’t need anyone to chase away the monsters under the bed, least of all a man. Shirking him off, she squared her shoulders, held her breath and stepped through the doorway.

  Nothing jumped out at her, no boogieman tried to grab her. The space looked a little cleaner than it had a week ago, but it was merely a room. The same as it had always been. She pulled the chain dangling from the overhead fixture and bathed the area in a blue fluorescent hue.

  “Are you okay?” Jason’s eyes reflected concern.

  “Fine.” And she meant it, at least for now. “Excuse me a moment.” She raced into the bathroom and shut herself inside. When she’d finished, she pulled open the door and startled at the sight of Jason leaning against the jamb a few feet away, arms crossed over his broad chest.

  Heat crawled up her neck and face. “You didn’t have to wait.” Although the fact that he had sent a pleasant zing of awareness over her skin.

  “No big deal.”

  His sexy grin only upped her temperature and quickened her pulse. The door chime drew her attention to the front of the store. Brushing past him, she returned to the sales floor and found an elderly couple browsing the mysteries near the door. “May I help you find something?”

  The old man smiled. “A book about dinosaurs.”

  “For our grandson,” the wife added.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t carry any kids books. But there’s a children’s bookstore around the corner, on Seventh Street.”

  “Thank you, dear.” The woman took her husband’s hand and they left.

  When Kelsey turned around to locate Jason, she found him in a back corner, speaking quietly on his cell.

  Scowling, he flipped the phone closed and headed toward her. “I spoke to Mike Callahan. They weren’t able to lift a single good fingerprint.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “So the murderer could be anyone.” How long would she have to keep looking over her shoulder?

  His lips compressed into a thin line. “The autopsy confirmed what Mike suspected. Margaret died from blunt trauma to the back of her head.”

  “At least she didn’t suffer much.” She hugged her arms around her body. She already missed Margaret’s warm smile and quiet wisdom.

  “I’d like you to start carrying a gun.” He spoke as if he was some authority in her life, rather than a guy she’d met less than a week ago. “We can initiate the paperwork today for your concealed weapons permit, unless you already have one.”

  Irritation instantly prickled her skin, but she concentrated on ignoring it since he’d acted so sweet today. Shaking her head, she pointed to the desk. “I bought some mace to carry on my key chain. I could never kill another human being, don’t have it in me. And I don’t believe in guns.”

  “You don’t, huh? Well, you’d better start.” Smirking, he lifted his chin. “That mace won’t do you any good when someone has a .45 trained on you.”

  “We don’t even know for sure anyone is trying to get their hands on the book.”

  He averted his gaze. “Actually, we do.”

  Alarm rumbled through her. “We do?”

  Tiny muscles around his jaw twitched. “Someone called me at work last night. Said the book belongs to her and she wants me to give it back. She knew I had it.” He finally met her stare.

  “She?” Sensing he wanted to say more, she touched his arm, marveled at the corded muscle under her fingers. A jolt of desire swept through her. She immediately withdrew her hand and tucked it behind her back. “What else, Jason?”

  He let out a deep sigh. “Someone tried to run me off the road this morning after I left work.”

  The hair on the back of her neck bristled. She clamped down on her rising fear as a cold shiver skittered across her skin. “Oh, my God. Were you hurt?” She examined him for cuts or bruises, but didn’t find any. If anything had happened to him… She shuddered.

  “I’m fine. But they got away.” He pointed to the poster on the wall where he’d stood minutes earlier. “Tell me about that.”

  She rubbed the stiffness from her neck. “I had planned to participate in a book fair at Morningside Bayfront Park this weekend. But with Margaret, and everything, I’ve decided to skip it.” In truth, she hadn’t thought about it until now.

  “No, you can’t.” He brushed a gentle finger over her cheek. “That’d be the perfect place for the killer to try to make contact with you, ask you about the book.”

  “But you said she knew you had it.” She gave her head a shake, trying to understand. “Except a man killed Margaret, not a woman.”

  He tilted his head, eying her. “You’re sure about that?”

  “I know it was a man who ran past me, yes.” Why did this suddenly sound a whole lot more complex, like some big conspiracy?

  “They have to be connected.” He paced the floor. “Did you find anything online about the book?”

  “Not much that’ll help us, although I didn’t have much time between canceling all my credit card companies and replacing my ID and cell phone.” She had tried Art Stephens several times, though. “I don’t know why my book dealer isn’t returning my calls. Art’s always phoned me right back.”

  Jason
studied his watch.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Is he here in Miami?”

  “Hallandale, actually. You think I ought to make a trip over there?” She glanced at the clock. “I can close up in an hour. Can it wait until five?”

  “I guess so. But how late does he work?”

  She picked up an edge of impatience in his voice. “He works out of his home, so he’s always there.”

  “I guess I can hang tight until then.” He strode to the counter and bent to smell a candle at the display there. Raising an eyebrow, he fixed her with a questioning stare. “Why candles? Seems like an unusual item for a bookstore to sell.”

  “It’s all part of that mood setting theme.” She pointed to the herbal teas on a glass shelf behind the counter. “You can enjoy a cup of locally grown herbal tea, burn a scented candle and relax with a good book.”

  He picked up a bottle of perfume from another display, glanced at the label and shook his head. “And what does orange blossom or lemon drop perfume have to do with relaxation?”

  She smiled when she thought about the couple who’d come in a few months back trying to talk her into carrying their products. The wife was pregnant with twins and they had a toddler at home. “I have trouble saying no to salespeople. Plus, it’s made in the Keys. The candles come from right here in South Beach and they’re soy based, petroleum free and healthy for the environment. No carbon footprint.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Carbon footprint, huh?”

  Ignoring his teasing, she stepped behind the desk and logged off the computer. Not as if anyone was buying books this afternoon. Might as well close up. “The sweetest old lady makes those candles and convinced me what a wonderful addition to my stock they’d make. Frankly, I think she was right. They’re selling well.”

  “So it’s true. You’re just a softy under that tough façade.” His wink turned her legs to jelly.