Hidden Magic
Page 10
She kissed him, molded her body to his and felt the hard length of him against her thigh. He groaned as she traced a line over his shoulder, down his arm then back up his side.
He reached for the hem of the shirt she wore. “Can we take this off?”
She thought about the jagged scar under her ribs from the time Jamal had shoved her into a glass table. She wasn’t ready for him to see the ugly parts of her. “Would you turn out the lights first?”
His frown was fleeting. “Okay.” He reached over her and shut off the lamp on the bedside table. Only a sliver of light spilled into the room from the hallway. “Better?”
She nodded then lifted the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Zander pulled her closer so they were skin to skin. The heat of his body singed hers. He cupped her backside, held her against him as he trailed kisses over her collarbone and neck. Then he caught her breast in his hand, massaged and shaped it.
Her nipples tightened, aching for his touch. She let out a pleasured moan as his mouth found one peaked point. He swirled his tongue around it, sucked it until she cried out.
He suddenly backed off. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She shifted on the bed to give him better access.
He immediately took advantage of it and lowered his head to her nipple again as he plucked and rolled the other one between his fingers. Delicious quivers spread over her skin. Her core ached with long-forgotten need.
Running her hands over his back, she drank in the feel of his hard planes and sinewy muscle. Unbridled lust sizzled through her. She needed him inside her, part of her.
Zander trailed his tongue along the valley between her breasts, lower to her abdomen. She turned away a little when he neared her scar but rather than avoiding it, he slid his lips along the entire length of it. “What’s this?” he whispered.
“It’s nothing.” Her voice came out cheap as day-old bread.
“Obviously not.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and gave her a deep, tasting kiss. Backing away, he pinned her with a hard stare. “Did he do that to you?”
She dropped his gaze as she thought back to the moment Jamal had thrown her into the table, shattering it. The awful, sharp stab as a shard of glass pierced her side and knocked the wind right out of her lungs. She sucked in a ragged breath.
“I hate that bastard for hurting you.” The conviction in his tone touched her.
But she didn’t want Jamal in the bed with them. She ran her finger over her scar. “When I read tarot cards, I always look at those that represent the past as well as ones for the present and future. Jamal is just an ugly scar from my past, like a reminder of how much better my life can be.”
He touched his lips to her scar again then looked into her eyes. “It will be better. I promise I’ll never hurt you. And I’ll do my best to see no one else does. They’ll have to come through me.”
A flood of emotion tightened her chest, ratcheting up her desire for the beautiful man she could so easily fall for. She locked her hands behind his neck and kissed his lips. How could he be so strong yet so tender?
When she released him, he moved his hand between her thighs to cup her mound. She rocked against him, overcome with wanting.
He reached into the drawer of the bedside table and palmed a square packet. After he’d sheathed himself, he teased her legs apart and moved between them. He met her stare, silently asking one more time if this was okay.
She had to smile. “Yes. Please, I want this.” If he only knew how rare a gift he was giving her, rescuing her from the cold, lonely place she’d been for so long.
He moved over her, sliding his shaft along her entrance, tormenting and teasing her, setting off sparks inside her. She widened her thighs, lifted her hips toward him to coax him, let him know how much she needed him.
He eased into her, slowly, deliberately, inch by heavenly inch. Then he withdrew a little, pushed deeper with the next stroke and the next until he filled her completely. She clenched her innermost muscles, holding him deep. He started moving, gently thrusting, creating the most wonderful erotic friction.
She twined her legs around him, clutched his shoulders as he moved above her. He kissed her neck, her breasts in turn. Lush sensations swamped her. Her whole body was on fire.
Zander grazed her nipple with his teeth and the pleasure overwhelmed her. She arched against his driving thrusts and fell over the edge into a sea of delight. Waves of bliss wracked her body in a deluge of ecstasy that went on and on. She clawed at his back, moaning with joy. Slowly, she drifted back down to earth.
Zander picked up his rhythm, stroked faster, harder, deeper. He let out a primal growl then jerked into her a few more times before stilling, breathless and damp with sweat.
She clung to him, totally spent, but afraid to let go. He held her, their hearts beating in tandem. As long as she was in his arms, nothing would hurt her. He’d promised. And she believed him.
* * * * *
Zander inhaled the sweet scent of Jilly’s hair as she lay with her back to him. He weaved his fingers through the silky strands and she made an adorable soft noise in her sleep, like a purr.
Taking her to bed hadn’t been wise, but it had been so long since he’d connected with a woman. In truth, he’d steered clear of any emotional involvements since Nadine. She and Andrea had shattered his faith in all women. But something about Jilly made him want to believe again.
Why did she have to be a witch? The word conjured up so many negative images. But did it really matter? She was a beautiful woman who appealed to him on so many levels. He wanted to protect her, to make her feel safe again after whatever her bastard ex-boyfriend had done to her.
He kissed the back of her head. She shifted her naked body against him and he felt himself growing hard again. It had only been an hour or two since they’d made love but he wanted her again. He caressed her breast, grazed his thumb over the nipple until it tightened to a hard pebble.
She stirred, moved her backside so it nestled his erection. He tugged on her peaked point and kissed the back of her neck. Her breath caught and he knew she was awake now.
Desire pumped through his blood. He needed to touch her again, taste her, bury himself inside her heat.
Splaying his fingers over the flat plane of her belly, he felt her shudder. He caught her earlobe between his teeth and raked the soft flesh.
She turned a little toward him, giving him better access to all of her. Yeah, she was onboard a hundred percent.
Shifting his hand lower on her abdomen, he skimmed over the soft tuft of hair. She let out a quiet moan as he covered her sex. She lifted her hips, encouraging him to delve deeper.
He tested her groove. “You’re already wet,” he whispered in her ear.
Another whimper.
“I want to taste you.” He nibbled the soft skin below her jaw.
She rolled onto her back and he climbed between her legs. Lowering his cheek to her creamy thighs, he drew in a breath laced with her womanly scent. She opened to him and he took a moment to admire her glistening folds. The curly hair between her legs appeared darker than that on her head, but it was probably just a trick of the night shadows. He kissed her thighs and delighted in her pleasured moans as he neared her entrance.
He couldn’t wait another moment. She quivered and gasped when he licked her intimate lips. He spread her wider, stroked his tongue deeper.
Jilly grabbed at his hair, holding him to her. He inwardly smiled. She was enjoying herself as much as he. Sucking gently on her engorged nub, he started rubbing her cleft.
She wriggled and moaned, cried out for him not to stop. Her legs stiffened. He sensed her climax approaching. She gasped, her pelvis convulsing and undulating in rhythmic beats. “Oh yes, Zander, yes.”
He took his cues from her, cupping her then massaging and stroking, slower now as she rode her orgasm all the way home. She was even more beautiful in the throes of pleasure. When she’d recovered, he shifted higher in the
bed so he could see her sated expression and kiss her lips.
She smoothed his hair back. “I need you inside me. Now.”
He sat back on his haunches. “Get on your knees.”
She did as he asked and he kneeled behind her and slipped on a condom. His balls constricted with powerful, primal lust. He took her from behind and growled with abandon as she clenched her innermost muscles.
Grasping her hips, he pushed deeper with each thrust, riding her relentlessly. He held back, desperate for release but wanting to prolong the exquisite friction. God, he could lose himself in her, in the sweet feel of her sex, the smell of her skin.
Her pleasured moans heightened his passion. Every stroke was pure bliss. Finally, he gave in to instinct and let go. Deep spasms of relief flooded him as he exploded in bliss, emptying himself inside her. His blood roared in his ears.
He collapsed against her back, gulping for air. Kissing the back of her neck, he smiled at her shudder. “You’re beautiful.”
He rolled onto his side, taking her with him. He’d never been one to easily give his heart away, but somehow, Jilly had already starting capturing part of it. He just prayed he wasn’t making a huge mistake, growing feelings for a self-proclaimed witch.
* * * * *
Slivers of orange light poked Zander awake. Jilly’s scent reminded him of making love to her last night. God, it was amazing. For the past two nights he’d finally dreamed about something other than finding Hannah Saxon dead.
Dreaming of Jilly—the taste of her skin and the sound of her voice—was a welcome change. And he wanted her again. He reached out for her but the sheets were cold. Peeling his eyes open, he sat up and frowned. A glint of something metallic sticking out from under the pillowcase caught his eye. He overturned the pillow and found a pocket knife. Same one she’d had in her hand when he entered the bookstore last night.
His gut clenched at the notion that someone had frightened her so much that she had to sleep with a weapon. He was going to catch the bastard who’d broken into the store, whoever it was.
The bathroom was dark so he headed to the living room and found her sitting on the floor by the coffee table, eyes fixed on the flame of a white candle. She was so still she almost looked like a mannequin.
Instead of disturbing her, he quietly padded back down the hall, took a quick shower then dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. The smell of fresh coffee lured him out of his room.
The living room was empty but Jilly was at the breakfast bar pouring herself some coffee. “I hope you don’t mind. I need a cup first thing. Pretty fancy coffee maker. I’m impressed. Want some?”
Her caramel skin was so smooth and clear and lovely. God, she looked gorgeous in his t-shirt with her hair rumpled like she’d just gotten out of bed. Made him want to take her right then and there. “Yeah, sure. I admit I’m a coffee snob. It’s my only vice. Although I could easily easily get addicted to you.”
When she blushed, he headed over, accepted a mug from her and took a sip. “You were up early. I saw you in the living room but you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb you.”
She came around the bar and climbed onto a stool. “I’m glad you didn’t. I was meditating. And I think I might have come up with something for the case.”
He took the seat next to her. “Yeah? Tell me about it.”
“I found her necklace on the counter next to your badge. Hope you don’t mind. I put it back when I was done. I tried to reach out to Hannah but I didn’t get anything. So I thought about any friends or confidantes she might have had and one thing kept popping into my mind.” She set her cup on the counter and faced him.
Despite the fact she was sitting there in his t-shirt and nothing else, he shifted his concentration to the case. “What’s that?”
“It’s a big open room with large bins and cardboard boxes. And there are a few cars outside, old ones with rust and dents on them.” She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. “I think it’s a place Hannah’s been, somewhere comfortable for her.”
He picked up Hannah’s necklace and pressed it into her palm . “Can you see any writing on the boxes or maybe an address on the building?”
She furrowed her brow. “No address. There’s food in some of the boxes, cans of corn and tuna fish, jars of peanut butter. And packages of baby diapers.”
Diapers? Where would they have diapers, food and old cars? The answer smacked him. “It’s got to be a food bank. Hannah’s mother told me she volunteered regularly at the one at her church.” He checked his watch. “Probably won’t be anyone there for at least an hour. I’ll be waiting when the first person arrives.”
Jilly got off her stool. “I want to go. Would you take me home so I can shower?”
He loved the idea of her washing up at his place. Hell, he’d help her. That conjured up a steamy picture of the two of them soaping each other up. But they had work to do. If he knew women, she’d want a fresh outfit. “Grab your things.”
It only took her a minute to change into her own clothes. He drove to her cottage and waited in her living room as she got ready.
The place was sparsely decorated with a cozy loveseat, a few dream catchers and a big bookshelf filled with the same sort of volumes he’d noticed at Mind’s Eye. He strode into the small kitchen and nearly walked into a rack of pans that hung from the ceiling.
The cop inside him got the better of him and he opened a cabinet. Three dishes, two bowls, a few glasses and mugs. She had no family photos or keepsakes lying around. It was almost as if she’d just moved in—or was packing up to leave. Was she so afraid of her ex-boyfriend that she wanted to be ready to run if need be?
If he ever encountered the son-of-a-bitch it’d be awfully tempting to put a bullet in his brain. He returned to the living room, called his office and asked to speak with his boss.
“Van Horn,” the sheriff answered.
“It’s Zander. I’m going to follow up on a possible lead at Hannah Saxon’s church. Anything interesting come in from the CSU about the break-in last night?”
He heard papers shuffle.
“No fingerprints. Perp had to be wearing gloves. We got a couple decent latent footprints though. Looks like a type of work boot. They’re still working on identifying it.”
“Okay, thanks. I had Lederman run a name through AFIS last night. He was supposed to leave the report on my desk.”
“Yup got it. Jamal Blanchard. Thirty years old, got his prints from an employment application with the New Orleans Fire Department. Who is he?”
Zander glanced at Jilly’s closed bedroom door, lowered his voice. “I’m not sure yet. But he might be a possible suspect in that break-in.”
“All right. Keep me posted.”
Jilly came out as he hung up. Her hair was still damp and a clean soapy scent surrounded her. He wished he could take her into that bedroom and make love to her all day but they had work to do first.
It only took them a few minutes to get to the Freedom Bay Baptist Church. Zander pulled into the lot in front but Jilly shook her head.
“Park around back.” She gripped the arm rest, sat on the edge of the seat. “This is it.”
The rear lot wasn’t paved. A sign that read, “Food Bank — Open Wednesdays and Saturdays,” hung over a set of double metal doors.
“Good. It’s open today.” He shut off the motor.
The lot started filling—with mostly beat-up old cars. A shiver snaked up his spine. Somewhere in the back of his mind he didn’t want to believe there was anything to Jilly’s supernatural gifts but how else could she have known about this place and Hannah’s connection to it?
Someone came outside from the church. A thirtyish woman with long braids, coffee-colored skin several shades darker than Jilly’s and half a dozen silver studs in each ear. She propped open the doors then disappeared inside.
People started getting out of their cars and making their way over. Most looked like migrant workers from the nearby farms.
The room was just as she’d described. A row of long tables topped with cardboard boxes flanked each wall and large plastic bins filled with produce and bags of diapers sat in the middle of the floor. The only way Jilly could know how it looked was if she’d been there before and somehow, he doubted that a witch would have ventured into a Baptist church.
The woman who’d opened the doors seemed to be directing people as they filled grocery sacks with food. “Can I help you?” As she approached them, Zander noticed a plastic identification card hanging around her neck with her picture.
He flashed his badge. “Detective Parsons. I’m with the sheriff’s office. This is Miss Livingston. I’m investigating the disappearance of Hannah Saxon.”
Her features darkened. “That poor girl. I didn’t know her well, but she seemed like a sweet kid.”
“She volunteered here, right?”
She gave him a half nod. “A couple times.”
He glanced at Jilly as she ran her hand over the edge of one of the long tables, hoped she’d pick up on something, anything that would lead them closer to Hannah. She appeared to be watching the crowd with more than a little interest. Her eyes glazed over.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.” She turned to the older woman. “Were you close with Hannah?”
“No, not at all. Like I said, she only helped out maybe two or three times, organizing donations, helping some of the elderly folks carry bags out.”
Jilly looked up at Zander. “She was here a lot more than that.”
He read the woman’s ID badge. “Margie, is there anyone else who’d have worked with her here? Her mom told me she was a regular volunteer.”
She shook her head. “Just me. I’m here every minute we’re open. I saw her hanging around outside several times, though. Times when she wasn’t volunteering.”