by Deborah Camp
She blinked at him. “Well, of course, they believe us. They had me talk to the sketch artist so that they could get a rendering of her as quickly as possible.”
“They did? Or Sinclair did?”
Trudy opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it as the import of his question stole her words. She realized what he was saying. “You don’t think the police believe us?”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders stretching his t-shirt. “They seldom do. I don’t imagine the good officers of Key West are any different. We’re lucky we have Sinclair believing us – or at least trying to.”
“Why would Tom work with us if he thinks we’re full of crap?” Trudy sat on the bed.
“I think he wants to believe us, but he’s surrounded by officers who think we’re about as genuine as a three dollar bill. So, it’s difficult for him. Like I said, we’re lucky he’s willing to give us the time of day.”
“But there must be other officers who are giving us the benefit of the doubt.”
“Oh?” He looked back at her again, arching a brow. “Did you see any of them glad-handing us and thanking us for our work today?”
She frowned. “No.”
“Every time I call, I speak to Sinclair. And if Sinclair isn’t in the building, I’m told to call back later. They don’t even offer to transfer me to his voice mail so that I can leave a message.”
“Oh. Well, that blows.” She puffed out a breath of disappointment.
“It’s the way it is most of the time with cops, Trudy. Get used to it.”
“You really don’t think they’ll release that sketch to the news? Even after we saved the last young woman?”
“Saved her or alarmed her and her family for no reason?”
She stared at him, irritation at the police prickling her. “I know that’s what they usually think. That we’re just a couple of charlatans or mental cases.”
“That’s about the size of it.” He sounded nonchalant, even uncaring.
“Doesn’t that bother you even a little?”
“I try not to let it. If I allow the frustration and anger to consume me, it takes my focus off the case I’m working on. It’s not worth the energy.”
She shook her head, feeling weary again and oh, so tired. So, the Key West police were like other police departments she had worked with? Most of them pegged her as an opportunist or a kook. She wasn’t all that surprised, but she was disappointed.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how he got into Shelly’s apartment,” Levi said.
Trudy propped herself on her stiffened arms and tried to concentrate on the case, even though her mind was getting fuzzy around the edges. “There was a window beside the door on the landing,” she offered and then yawned.
“Yes, and it was locked and still sealed up with paint.”
“Oh. How do you know that?”
“I read the police report. There were no signs of forced entry.”
He was so focused! Trudy shook her head, feeling vaguely guilty for not being as thorough. She had read through the police reports, too, but obviously not as closely as Levi. She looked at the bed she was sitting on, fighting the urge to lie down.
“I think that the most logical explanation is that Shelly was one of those stupid people who never locked her door.”
Trudy stifled another yawn. “There are a lot of them.”
“Yes. Fools living in a fool’s paradise, thinking that no one will invade their privacy.”
The last of her resistance fell away and Trudy slowly crumpled sideways, unable to resist the bed any longer. She pulled her legs up, curling into a fetal position. Oh, it felt so good! She closed her eyes . . . just for a second.
“Something is niggling at me, Trudy.” His voice floated to her and she tried to listen, but her exhaustion was winning. “It has to do with Zelda . . . ah, Trudy . . . you’re worn out, aren’t you, my beautiful witch?”
Something niggled at her, too. Glenn’s words wove through her mind like a whiff of smoke. He had been talking to Levi about trust.
“You can trust me,” she murmured.
“What?”
“You can trust me with your life and with everything you are and have been,” she repeated and then sighed.
“Trudy . . .” His voice held a myriad of emotions that she was too tired to sort through. “I want to do that. I know that I should . . .”
“Then do it.” She rubbed her cheek against the soft pillow that smelled of Levi, and floated on a shimmering sea of liquid gold.
Chapter Fourteen
Small, warm puffs of air tickled her eyelids, her ear, her lips, and then whispered words wound their way into her consciousness.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
She released a mewling grumble as she forced her eyes open to find Levi’s face inches from hers. He closed the distance and kissed her softly on the lips.
“She wakes!” he whispered. “Finally.” He kissed her again before leaning back a little to look down into her face. “Good morning.”
Trudy blinked. Was she dreaming? Wait . . . where was she? She glanced around. Oh, the cabin. The cabin? Propping herself on her elbows, she blinked rapidly at the sight of Levi stretched out beside her, bare-chested, the sheet hiding him from the navel down. She glanced at the window. It seemed to be grayish outside the dirty panes. “What time is it?”
“Six-thirty. You have officially spent the night with me, Miss Tucker. We’ve slept together.”
She peeked quickly under the sheet and was relieved to see that she was still dressed. “I need to get back to the Gypsy Spirit.”
“The what?”
“My RV. That’s what I named it.” She moved to fling aside the sheet and eject herself from the bed, but Levi clamped a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.
“Oh, no you don’t. Just relax. I’ve enjoyed watching you sleep and now I’d like to enjoy watching you when you’re awake.”
“Watching me sleep?” she repeated, then shuddered. “Did I snore?”
His grin broadened and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “No.”
“I bet I drooled, didn’t I?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. I did. I drooled.”
He tipped back his head and laughed and he looked so young and sexy that her heart tripped over itself. “No. No drooling,” he assured her, still chuckling.
“I didn’t say anything stupid in my sleep, did I?”
“Trudy, stop!” He shook his head and his teeth grazed over his full bottom lip. “Nothing happened. I don’t think you moved even a pinky finger once you fell asleep. You’re beautiful, you know. And you look like an angel when you’re sleeping.”
She covered her hot face with her hands for a few moments and studied him through her fingers. Even early in the morning, the man was sinfully delicious looking with the lower half of his face shadowed by stubble and his hair in a wild tousle. The fan of his dark lashes on his cheeks as he swept his gaze down her sheet-draped body sent a swirl of longing through her.
“Is that why you didn’t want to spend the night with me? You were afraid you’d snore or drool?”
“No . . . I . . .” She shrugged. What could she say? That she didn’t want to like him more than was absolutely necessary, but that train had already left the station because she was fairly sure she was halfway in love with him already? “Mouse! I need to—.”
“I’ve already seen to her.”
“You . . . you have?” she turned toward him and wondered if he had anything on under the sheet. When she’d peeked before, she’d only been concerned about her own body, not his.
“Yes. You left the door to your RV unlocked.”
“I wasn’t planning on being away all night,” she defended herself.
“Still . . . you must take your personal safety more seriously or I’ll have to do something about it!”
She blinked at him, realizing that he was actually serious. He was a little ticked off.
“Anyway
, I found your keys inside the RV and I locked it behind me.” He nodded to the bedside table. “Your keys are there. I took Mouse for a walk around midnight. She’ll be okay for a few more hours.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She smiled, touched by his desire to protect her. He really could be so thoughtful. Levi Wolfe was a man of many, many moods. Wait . . . did he say . . . “A few more hours?”
“Well, yes.” He walked two fingers up her arm to her shoulder. “We need to get these clothes off you. They’re wrinkled.”
She eyed him, warily. “What are you wearing?”
“Armani,” he said around a grin.
“You are so bad.”
“Oh, no. I’m good. Damn good.” He leaned closer and kissed her mouth gently, softly. “I was wondering . . .”
“About what?” she asked, her lips brushing his with each word.
“If we were in the middle of doing . . . it.” He smiled against her lips. “Would the crazy motherfucker be able to grab hold of your mind?”
“I’ve wondered about that myself,” she admitted, angling back a little to see his pretty face better. “But I don’t think he would be able to because my mind – not to mention my body – would be too fully engaged.”
“Hmmm. But I want to mention your body,” he murmured, his mouth slipping over hers again. “More importantly, I want to see your body.” His warm hands moved up under her shirt and peeled it right off of her. “Because I’m addicted to your body,” he whispered, dropping kisses over the top of her breasts as his nimble fingers unhooked the front clasp of her bra. It fell away and she rose up enough to wiggle free of it and fling it aside. He rewarded her with a devilish grin and unbuttoned and unzipped her slacks. She hitched up her hips and let him slide them and her panties down her legs, sending them sailing. “That’s so much better.”
“Much,” she agreed. She gathered handfuls of his hair and pulled his mouth flush to hers. Her tongue went to work and so did his, vying for dominance. His won. Trudy moaned her surrender, parting her thighs to allow him to claim his spoils.
“Aren’t you glad you spent the night with me finally?” His lean body slid between her thighs and he gazed longingly at her nipples and then took one into his mouth for a long, strong suckle.
Trudy arched up in sweet agony. “You’re really proud of that, aren’t you?”
Her engorged nipple slipped from his lips with a soft pop. “I am. I’m tired of you treating me like a dildo.”
“A dildo!” She had to giggle at that because he was so much more than a dildo. He was all warm hands and wet mouth and taut muscles and she couldn’t seem to get close enough to him. His mouth closed over her other breast and she arched up, rubbing herself against his hard cock.
“Mmmm,” she murmured. The man was absolutely unparalleled when it came to foreplay. His fingers teased and plucked at her other nipple. She writhed against him, feeling his hotness sliding against her as he moved lower and lower, his mouth paying homage to her ribcage, her navel, and then her—.
“Oh!” Trudy slammed her eyes shut when he kissed her clitoris and the tip of his tongue gave it a tiny flick. “No, no, no, Levi.”
“Yes, yes, yes, Trudy,” he whispered against her hot, wet skin. His tongue lashed at her and he pressed his hands on her inner thighs and moved them farther apart so that he could get even more up close and personal. “Sweet Jesus, you taste so fucking good.”
She couldn’t form a sensible sentence if she tried. She could barely make a sound as his mouth continued to lay claim to her and she felt herself climbing, tensing, and writhing with unimaginable feelings. She’d never been with a man before who took her so audaciously, so unapologetically, and so completely. He just dove right in as if he owned her body, knew her intimately already, and had a right to invade every inch of her. His tongue plundered, dipping into her entrance and then rubbing against her clitoris until she thought she might die from pleasure. He pushed two fingers inside of her and worked them furiously in and out.
“Oh, God,” she managed to grit out as she felt her climax shoot up through her like a ball of fire.
“That’s right,” Levi said, his breath hot against her already flaming skin as his fingers curved slightly to rub her G-spot. “Here she goes. Oh, yes, she’s gone.”
And she was . . . gone to that mindless place where all she knew was quivering, shuddering pleasure. His tongue continued to stroke her and his lips sucked her as she fell back to earth, back to the brass bed in Cabin Four.
Opening her eyes, she saw Levi’s lopsided smile between her spread thighs. He licked his lips and rose up to his knees, sitting back on his heels. His gaze devoured her nude body as he sucked the fingers that had been inside her. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever witnessed and she thought she might come again right on the spot. His chest rose and fell and beads of sweat rolled down his lean torso. To her eyes, he was male perfection. He slipped on a condom as his gaze moved slowly over her body.
“Fuck, I’m a lucky bastard. Put your legs around me,” he said, his eyes darkening to turbulent blue. He cupped her butt cheeks in his long-fingered hands and directed all of his concentration to the place where their bodies would join.
Trudy held her breath, feeling him slide his cock up and down her slit several times before gliding in, slowly, confidently, fully. She gazed up into his face and the look of undiluted pleasure there clamped down on her heart. He was so fantastically gorgeous. Muscles bunched in his arms as he moved in and out of her slowly, leisurely. She admired his wide chest, defined by muscle and sinew, and loved the swirl of ebony hair on his pectorals. She ran her hands across his chest and then lower to the V that bracketed his taut lower abdomen. He smiled at her as her fingertips delved into the mass of curly black hair.
“I’m in heaven right now, angel baby,” he said, his voice raspy and seductive as he continued his steady, friction-building, orgasm-spawning pace. “This is my heaven.”
For all its corniness, Trudy grinned, thinking he was irresistible when his shields were down as they were right now. No mask, no persona, nothing to keep her apart from the real man. His jaw tensed and his eyelids shuttered his beautiful eyes from her for a few moments before he began thrusting faster and harder, grinding his hips every time he drove in to the hilt. He growled low in his throat and that primal sound sent a flaming arrow of hot sexual arousal through her.
“I want you to come again for me, Trudy,” he said, his breath escaping in little gasps and grunts as perspiration formed on his forehead and dripped down his cheeks. “You’re going to come and you’re going to scream my name when you do.”
She shook her head even as the flicker of another orgasm came to life deep in her belly. The head of his penis shifted higher and touched that place inside of her that sent her reeling. “Levi,” she gasped, digging her fingers into his upper arms. She tightened her legs around his waist.
“Louder.” He shifted ever so slightly, just enough to fan the flames inside her. “You’re almost there. I can feel it. I feel every twitch, every flutter, every heartbeat. You’re there! My name, Trudy! My name.”
“Levi! God, Levi!” His name was torn from her throat by a wave of ecstasy. The world tipped over and her body went weightless as she grabbed his shoulders and clung to him. She pulled him down to her, running her hands over his muscled back and through his hair. Kissing his neck, she bit his ear lobe, letting it slide through her teeth, and heard his breath hitch.
“Mine, mine! Ahhh, Trudy,” he growled her name and his hips pumped hard into her. He trembled under her hands. Then he released his breath in a long sigh that tickled the damp curls on her forehead. “You’re mine, you hear me? Mine,” he whispered near her ear. “I don’t even know myself when I’m with you like this.”
With her eyes closed, she felt a single tear roll down her cheek as his words wrapped tightly around her foolish heart. Was he feeling things for her that were foreign to him? Were they enough to make him want to be hers and hers alon
e? She caressed him, running her hands over his shoulders and down his sides. He was lean muscle and warm skin, hard edges and leashed power. He commanded her body as if they’d been lovers for years instead of days.
Lifting to his elbows, he gently pushed curls of her damp hair off her forehead and kissed her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. “You are just way, way too irresistible. That mouth of yours. Fuck, I have wet dreams about your mouth.” He kissed her lips, sucking gently on her upper one until she smiled. “Hey, baby?”
She opened her eyes and her heart skipped a beat. His eyes were that beautiful, cobalt blue that made her think of the sea. “I used to hate for men to call me that.”
“What? Baby?”
“Yes. It’s always sounded demeaning to me. But not when you say it.”
“That’s because you know I would never demean you.” His lips traveled down her cheek, over her jaw line, and down to her throat. He shifted his hips against her.
Oh, God. She stared at him. He was still semi-hard inside her. She shook her head. “You came.”
“I did,” he affirmed. “But I’ve told you. I can’t get enough of you.” He laughed at her shocked expression and pulled out of her, then rolled onto his side. “What? Have you only been with lightweights before me? One pump and they’re done?” Chuckling under his breath, he removed the condom, tied it into a knot, and lobbed to toward the waste paper basket. It dropped in and disappeared. “He shoots! He scores!”
Trudy laughed and snuggled into him. His arms enfolded her and he kissed her hair. She closed her eyes and drank him in – his smell, the soft stroking of his hands on her back and in her hair, the strong beat of his heart under her ear. Enjoy it while it lasts, she told herself.
“Go back to sleep,” he murmured. “I set the alarm for eight-thirty.”
“What time is it now?”
“Seven-fifteen.”
She sighed, rubbed her cheek against his chest, and happily obeyed.
###
When they’d finally rolled out of bed, Levi had announced that he was going into Key West for some printer supplies and to get some fresh cinnamon rolls for their breakfast. Loving that idea, Trudy had promised to make a pot of coffee. They’d also decided that, if she didn’t make contact again with the killer, they would go to Mallory Square that afternoon to see if they could spot the blond.