by Deborah Camp
He arched a brow at her. “I’d feel guilty and maybe embarrassed. So, what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t do anything that I wouldn’t feel perfectly fine having you see me do.”
“Exactly. Same goes for me,” she hastened to add so that he wouldn’t feel picked on. “If you get in a bad way, you can masturbate, but I’d rather you let me take care of you.”
He looked away from her quickly and drew in a quick breath. Trudy knew she’d just stumbled upon another “No Trespassing” sign. She closed her eyes and tried to stop herself from questioning him, but failed.
“What’s wrong? You have something against masturbating?”
His eyes slid sideways toward her. “Not really.”
“But?” she asked. He pressed his lips together and ignored her. She walked her fingers across the table and rested her hand on his, drawing his attention fully to her. “What are you thinking about? Don’t trust me enough to tell me?”
“It’s not a question of trust—.”
“Oh, yes, it is,” she interrupted him. “It’s all about trust. I don’t know why and you may never tell me why you’re so secretive about what haunts you, what happened to make you so guarded, but I know for certain you don’t trust me.”
He closed his eyes for a second and pulled his hand out from under hers. “It’s nothing, really. When I was sixteen I was caught masturbating by a school counselor.”
“And you were punished for it?”
“Yes.” The smile he managed was neither pleasant nor amused. “Three grown men held me down and I was beaten with a thick paddle. Really, it was more like a club. They broke my collarbone, my right wrist, and three ribs.”
Her hand flew to her gaping mouth. “My God!”
“It actually turned out to be a good thing because one of my busted ribs punctured my right lung and they had to rush me to the hospital before I croaked. That caused the police to investigate and the school was shut down.”
She let her hand drop slowly from her mouth. “Did your parents know what was happening there?”
He nodded. “I told them every time I was allowed a phone call, but I guess they thought I was exaggerating. Or that’s what they wanted to believe.” He waved a hand, batting away the subject. “Who knows? I was allowed to come home after I was released from the hospital. My mother had been diagnosed with cancer by then.”
Trudy breathed through the pain she felt for him, since he obviously refused to feel any of it himself. “Where was this school?”
“That one was in the Dominican Republic.” He gave a careless shrug.
She couldn’t stand it. She had to touch him, so she scrambled from the chair, went around the table, and sat in his lap. Looping her arms around his neck, she hugged him, rubbing her cheek against his.
“What’s this all about?” he asked with a mixture of humor and puzzlement.
That he had to ask her told her how void his life had been of tenderness and compassion. “This is because you deserve a hug,” she said, kissing his forehead and breathing in the intoxicating scent of him. She pulled aside his shirt and kissed his collarbone. “Imagining what you must have gone through makes me feel ill, Levi.”
“And that’s why there’s no point in telling you any of this shit.” He leaned back to capture her gaze. “It doesn’t do either of us any good.”
“You’re wrong about that,” she said, running her hands through his hair and admiring the inky waves. “Shutting me out only makes me feel farther apart from you. And I want to feel close to you.” She kissed him and let her lips linger on his for a few moments. “So, we’re going to be a couple?”
“I think we already are, aren’t we?” He settled his hands on her waist and scooted the chair back to give them more room.
“I suppose. You think you’ll be any good at fidelity?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.” He gave her a quick kiss and lifted his arm to check his Rolex. “Right now I need to call my office.”
“Oh. Okay.” She pushed up from his lap and moved aside so that he could stand. He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“Thanks. Tell you what, put on your bathing suit and we’ll go to the beach in a little while. Then, later, I’ll show you how I close out a case. We’ll go over our notes and everything. We need to compile a final report and send it to the police.”
“Sounds great,” she said, although she wasn’t that enthused. She sighed as he strode from the room. Mister Moody Blues was back.
He wanted a monogamous relationship because he didn’t want her to have sex with anyone but him. That was it in a nutshell. If she had to make a bet, she’d wager that he wasn’t at all sure he could follow through with his end of it. Well, she had today and tonight to make him understand that his faithfulness to her could not be in question. Trying to not be with another woman just wouldn’t cut it.
Uh-uh. Nope. No friggin’ way.
Chapter Nineteen
Opening her eyes, Trudy stared at a shaft of starlight falling across the wide bed. Where was she? Oh, right. The Hyatt. She squinted through the dusk at the alarm clock beside the bed. Seven-thirty! She’d been asleep for almost three hours!
The walk on the beach and then the work on the Yardley case – sorting through notes and photos, and compiling a comprehensive file – had worn her out. She’d decided to take a nap before dinner while Levi caught up with more e-mails and phone calls.
Speaking of Levi . . . where was he? She sat up, her gaze darting toward the living/dining room area.
“I’m over here, baby.”
Levi’s raspy voice emerged from a shadowy corner of the large bedroom. Whipping around, Trudy saw him sitting in a wing chair.
“What are you doing?”
“I went down to the gym for a run on the treadmill. And I’ve been watching you sleep, which seems to have become a hobby of mine.”
She stretched and let out a groan. “That’s a fascinating hobby you’ve got there. Sorry I slept for so long.” She waited a minute, thinking he’d join her on the bed, but he seemed to be glued to the chair. Scooting off the bed, she went to him and he opened up his arms to receive her. He wore nothing but a pair of dark blue workout shorts. She sat in his lap and looped her arms around his neck and his circled her waist. His skin was warm and damp, his muscles more defined. He had been exercising!
“You talked to Mike Yardley?” she said.
“That’s right.”
“How is he?”
“Devastated and confused.”
“Poor man.”
“He’s selling out and moving.”
“He told me he thought he had a buyer for the Stirring Palms.”
“Yeah, he does.” He tightened his arms around her. “He had no clue about Jay.”
“Jay fooled a lot of people.”
“He’s confessed to everything. He thinks he’s a fucking genius. He’ll be a fascinating case study for psychologists and psychiatrists.”
“Maybe material for a new book by you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I could tell that he thinks he’s superior to most of us foolish mortals,” she said, her voice dripping with the scorn and contempt she felt for Jay Yardley.
He nodded. “I’ve been thinking . . . “
She stiffened a little. When he said that, she never knew what to expect.
“After you knew the score with Jay, why didn’t you play dumb and get the hell out of there?”
She leaned back to witness the worry lingering in his eyes and wished he would let it go. “About the time I puzzled it all out, he could tell I knew,” she said, making her tone light and matter-of-fact. “I thought it would be safer to shine him on until you and the cops could get there, rather than try to make a run for it on my own.”
He rested his forehead against hers and rocked his head back and forth, closing his eyes. “So dangerous, baby.”
“Shhh. Let’s not rehash it again.” She smoothed her hands through
his hair where it was damp at his temples. “Have you booked your flight to Atlanta?”
He nodded and then stood up with her in his arms. A yelp escaped her and she let go of a laugh.
“Levi! Wait . . . I can walk!”
He laid her on the bed and then slid in beside her. “I don’t want to talk about leaving you.” Unknotting the belt at her waist, he pushed the robe off her shoulders, exposing her body to his heated gaze. “I like being here like this with you.”
She bit her lower lip, touched by his admission as she took in the beauty of his face. He kissed her lightly on the lips and then reclined on his back. She cuddled close to his side. He really was the most handsome man she’d ever met. The bridge of his nose was straight and his mouth was wide and . . . oh, what he could do with it! Her gaze moved to his hands, resting on his flat stomach. Those hands were magical, too.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“You never met Jay before the arrest, right?”
He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “I saw him a couple of times from the cabin window, but I never actually met him or talked to him.”
“If you had shaken his hand, would you have sensed that he was our murderer?”
“I doubt it.”
“But you knew that the guy at the motel had been the one looking at us through the sliding glass doors that night. Oh! And there was that cowboy at the bar you bumped into and you knew he’d been with Zelda.”
“Occasionally, I can get flashes of insight, but serial killers are closed off. Their evil surfaces when they’re contemplating a kill. Most of them compartmentalize their lives and open up that trapdoor to the depravity in their souls when they have a prey in their sights. That’s how Jay fooled everyone.”
“If I can determine who is a murderer by touching mug shots, does that mean I’m touch sensitive, too?”
A frown line creased his forehead for a few seconds. “You’re concentrating on the photos, but what you’re really doing is acting like a beacon for the killer’s psyche to navigate to and open up to you. These men you’re accessing are still alive. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so you’re concentrating and reaching out with your mind, and when a murderer reaches back, you make a connection. You’re the mind reader. Not me.”
She smiled and looked down the length of his tautly muscled physique, then smiled and wondered if he could read her mind now. “Changing the subject . . . but do you know what I love most about your body?”
“I’ll take a wild guess. Is it between my legs?”
She slapped his shoulder playfully. “No! I mean . . . I like that, but it’s not what I was thinking about. I’m glad you’re tattoo free. It’s such a joy to see a beautiful male body with no graffiti on it.”
“I’m glad you approve.” He shifted onto his side and propped his head in his hand.
“No old girlfriends’ names, no dragons, hearts, knives, guns, skulls, and cryptic messages. Why do people think they have to stamp images of their lives onto their bodies as if their minds are incapable of holding onto and recalling memories without visual reminders or clues?”
“Further evidence of the ‘dumbing down’ of America? All I know is that there’s very little of my life that I would want to commemorate,” he said, dryly.
His simple statement sent an arrow through her heart. She kissed him, then let her lips skim down the center of his chest. He smelled musky and tasted salty. When he groaned appreciatively, she continued her gentle assault and gripped the waistband of his shorts. She pulled them down along with his briefs and slid them off his legs and feet. His cock bobbed up, growing stiffer by the second. She gripped its base and her gaze met Levi’s. His eyes were on her, dark and hungry. He stared at her for a few heart-stopping moments before he fell onto his back, giving himself over to her.
She smiled and bestowed a long, lush lick. He clutched the sheet at his sides as she took him inside her mouth and sucked hard, letting him slip in and out. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. She took him in deeper and ran her teeth lightly along his satiny skin. A low growl rumbled from him and he clutched at her hair and moved her head, directing her mouth to take more of him. She flexed her throat to accommodate him and then she held still to allow him to revel in it.
“Christ, that feels good,” he murmured. “You don’t have to be so gentle. It won’t break.”
Smiling against him, she moved faster, her tongue swirling across his hot skin. She sucked on the glistening tip. She heard his breath grow choppy as his erection thickened and lengthened. He was getting close. She tongued the throbbing vein that ran down the length of his cock and he shuddered.
“That’s enough,” he whispered, his voice strained, urgent. “Have to get a condom.” He reached for one lying on top of the bedside table, but Trudy snatched it from his fingers.
“I’ll do it,” she said, tearing open the foil packet and removing the tacky contraceptive. She pinched the top of it and rolled it onto his lovely, large, erect penis.
“Do you remember the first woman you made love to?” she asked, shrugging out of the hotel’s complimentary robe and flinging it aside.
“I told you already.”
“Lizzie?” She gave him an oh really? look. “You were in love with her?”
He frowned. “You want to talk about this now?”
Laughing a little, she draped herself on top of him and kissed his lips. His hands roamed her body, over her butt and up to her shoulders. “I was just wondering because I’m going to make love to you.” She smiled and arched her brows at his slight frown. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to reciprocate in kind. But there’s a difference between intercourse and making love. You know that, right?”
He glanced up as if seeking divine guidance and then heaved a weary sigh. “Yes, Trudy. I know that most women think there is a big difference. I’m not dense.”
She wanted to bite a plug out of him for being so arrogant and clueless, but she refrained. “You’re not dense, but you also don’t know what you’re talking about. Women don’t think there’s a difference, we know there’s a difference. And lucky you, you’re going to experience that right now.”
Not waiting for a response or to see the next expression on his way-too-handsome face, she kissed his parted lips again and then his throat and along his collarbone – his broken and mended collarbone. Even thinking about the horror he’d experienced being beaten like a defenseless animal made her redouble her desire to make him feel treasured and loved. She wanted desperately for him to share the tenderness and compassion banked in her heart just for him.
Taking her sweet time, she caressed his body with light fingertips and left little wet spots on his skin with her lips and tongue. She blew softly on the nest of curls below his navel and grinned when his cock inched even higher against his stomach. She ran her hands down his taut, muscled, hair-roughened thighs and left kisses there.
“I love your body,” she whispered. “And I love your mind. I see your heart, Levi, and I want to know it more intimately. I want to know you. And I want you to know me like no one has ever known me.”
Just when she was about to work her way back up his beautifully toned and muscled torso, he sat up and took her face in his hands. He shook his head slowly and she saw him swallow – hard.
“Something wrong?” She could barely manage a whisper. The look he gave her – as if she was the most gorgeous, most precious thing in the world – made her heart swell. He brought her mouth to his in a kiss that was tender at first. Then he parted his lips and his tongue swept through her mouth in a show of dominance. He was taking over and she decided to let him because, truthfully, her body demanded it.
“This love-making . . .” he said, his voice husky and his eyes smoking. “I think it’s supposed to be mutual.”
She nodded, struck mute by the desire flooding through her at the sound of his sexy voice and the clear inte
nt in his eyes.
“Okay, then I should participate. You can’t expect me to lie here like a statue.” He gripped her waist and in a quick move that never got old, he had her on her back and his mouth was on her breast. One of his legs settled between hers and he rubbed against her. She was damp with desire.
He hooked his ankles with hers and forced her legs further apart. He reached down and guided the head of his penis to her portal, but he didn’t enter her. Instead he shifted his hips, rubbing against her as he bent his head and his tongue wrapped around her nipple and tugged.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, smiling to herself at how he had so skillfully turned the tables on her. “Levi, please.” The feelings were so intense that it was hard for her to form words.
“I want to please,” he whispered, his voice gruff and raspy. “That’s all I want to do. To please. To show you what you mean to me.”
She had to see his face. Clutching at his hair, she pulled his mouth away from her breast and stared into his beautiful blues. He knitted his brows, silently asking her what she was looking for, what she wanted from him.
“I want you inside me,” she said, unable to think of anything else but to have him fill her, possess her wholly and totally. The tender, tremulous longing for him was almost more than she could bear. She quivered inside and out. “Now!”
“Gladly.” He moved slowly, giving her inch by slow inch of him, stretching her, making her feel every inner muscle, every nuance of his invasion, his gaze never releasing hers. “This is mine,” he said, rocking his hips and thrusting deeper. “You are mine. Say it, Trudy.”
“I’m yours,” she whispered, kissing him, circling his tongue with hers. His words thrilled her. She released his hair and clutched at his shoulders and back, needing him to move, to drive in and out of her, to make her come.
Resting his forehead on hers, he pulled out of her, all the way. She felt bereft and her inner muscles clutched and flexed. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and when he opened them again passion burned brightly, fanning her flames higher and higher. With a quick intake of breath, he shifted and drove into her.