The Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest

by Dakota Cassidy

  “He was with my aunt and uncle at their funeral home. Cathy’s parents live in Tucson and no, before you ask he didn’t bite Alan, even during lovemaking.”

  Good thing she couldn’t read his mind or he’d ask if Ethan could prove it. He’d have Sweeney do some sniffing around in Tucson, but his gut told him Ethan didn’t have anything to do with it. Why kill a guy because he didn’t want to come out of the closet? “So we’re back to square one? Alan is dead and he might have done himself in over his lifestyle.”

  “But that doesn’t explain the note, Larkin,” Joy reminded him.

  Larkin shrugged his shoulders in helplessness. “Maybe he was talking about Ethan, but even before his death he couldn’t bring himself to tell Adelaide the truth?”

  Joy’s thickly fringed eyes closed then opened in obvious frustration. “Ethan said he was pretty freaked out about it. He didn’t want anyone to know. Not anyone at work or any of his family.”

  “Did he call Ethan at all while Ethan was at your aunt and uncle’s?”

  “Nope. And Ethan didn’t tell him where he’d be, according to Ethan. Alan sure as hell wasn’t going to call the parlor if he was too scared to come clean about being gay.”

  “Well, that sucks. I feel kinda pissed that Alan didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

  Joy’s ponytail bobbed at him and her full lips pursed, making his cock stir and his brain fog. “It’s not like you’re Dr. Phil, Larkin. You aren’t exactly the kind of guy I’d like to sit on a couch with and expect to hear soothing words from.”

  “Oh, really? That’s interesting. Wasn’t that you on the couch with me just last night, Miss Therapeutic?”

  She stuck her pink tongue out at him, the very tongue that had bathed his rock-hard cock last night. Larkin shifted in his seat as his straining bulge pressed against his tight jeans.

  “Was that therapy, Detective? I wish I’d have known that long ago. When counseling became a way of life, I’d have been the first in line.”

  Larkin circled her wrist, rubbing her palm with his thumb. “Hey, I’m a counseling expert,” he teased.

  She tilted her head and smiled coyly. “Yes, you’re a real Oprah. Now, back to the business at hand. Alan.”

  Larkin cleared his throat. “The coroner’s office says they have nothing and they’re pretty tweaked that I made them go back over this again.”

  “I imagine so, Detective. They didn’t find the bite marks?” Her hesitance to ask and the fear on her face as she waited for the answer made his intestines twist into a knot.

  Larkin scoffed at her. “Those yokels? I’m surprised they could find the scalpels.”

  He saw the relief on her face when she said, “It’s a small town, Larkin. Not much happens here. I don’t know that they’re equipped to handle vampires.”

  “So that’s it, I guess. The ruling is Alan bled out due to his wrist wounds. Suicide. End of story.” He waited to see her reaction. Maybe just a hint that she wanted him to hang around, cuz it was all he needed at this point in his life. He was drifting and Alan’s death had given him purpose. Looking into it made him feel useful, but so did Joy. He didn’t know why and he didn’t much care for a reason to examine it right now. It just made sense.

  Her eyes flashed lightning at him. “That’s it? Oh, c’mon Sherlock! Surely there’s more to this than meets the eye. What’s the matter, Detective? Is this case too hard for you?” she mocked in a childish voice.

  Now that’s exactly what he wanted to hear. A sort of invitation to stay and dig until he found China or at least why his fascination with all things Joy was tweaking him like nothing else. Larkin perked up. “I’m sorry. Do I hear skepticism in your tone? What are you, Charlie’s Angels?”

  Joy giggled, that tinkling laugh that did some fucking stupid thing to his chest that he hadn’t quite put a finger on yet. She loved television and he knew mentioning one of her favorite seventies shows would get a rise out of her.

  “I always wanted to be Farrah… and yes, you do hear skepticism because this isn’t over. Some freak is out there biting people, whether he’s a real vamp or not and I’ll be dipped in shit before this happens again and my family comes to harm as a result. So, whatcha plan to do about that, Columbo?”

  Larkin yanked her from her chair and pulled her to his lap. “Well, for right now, I plan to do you -- we’ll talk murder and chaos later.”

  “Can we talk about you later too, Detective?” Her soft lips found his and nipped at them.

  Larkin felt the heavy thud of his cock and the need to have her naked and beneath him shot to his gut, hurried and hungry. “Depends on what you want to know…”

  Joy tugged her shirt off and pressed the cool skin of her upper chest to his cheek. “I want to know all about you, Detective. All of it.”

  Larkin’s tongue burned to feel her silken nipple beneath it. He unclasped her bra and let her lush, full breasts fall free. Cupping them he thumbed her nipples to pebbly hard peaks. He brought a nipple to his lips. Surrounding it he tugged, licking the hard bud. “There isn’t much to tell, but if you shut that luscious yap of yours now I promise to spill my guts in all my therapeutic glory later.”

  Joy sighed, long and breathy as he suckled her, rubbing her lower body against his enticingly. “Oh, all right,” she whispered huskily. “I guess I can wait…”

  Larkin chuckled as he tugged the straps of her bra off her shoulders and ran a finger over the crease between her legs. She moaned low and he took the opportunity to unbutton her jeans, standing her up and shoving them off. Joy stepped out of them and kicked them aside, standing in front of him unashamed.

  She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen naked or otherwise. Long and curvy, with full hips and an ass his hands burned to clutch. The soft swell of her belly led to her smooth pussy, a pussy he could spend forever with his tongue in. She was tangy-sweet, cool and hot all at once, and his cock throbbed to ram into her.

  “I somehow find it terribly unfair that I’m the only naked one here, Detective.” Larkin pulled his shirt off and popped the button on his jeans, rising to shrug them off. He sat back down in the chair and turned her to sit forward on his lap, letting his erection caress the flesh between her legs. He pulled her back against him with his arm around her waist and let his fingers splay over her smooth pussy. “Spread your legs, Joy, so I can touch you.” He felt her shudder as she spread her legs wide, bracing her thighs on his own and hooking her feet around his ankles. Her soft skin scraped against his own, making a friction of tantalizing cool and warm.

  Joy leaned back against him and wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting her breasts high so he could just see the tips of her nipples over her shoulder. Larkin swore to himself he’d try to be gentle as he trailed a finger between her breasts and down over the smooth skin of her belly. He dipped a finger into her cunt with slow ease, resting against her clit, and Joy jerked against him. Larkin smiled at how wet she was as he slipped into her and thumbed her clit. “Christ, Joy, you’re tight -- wet…”

  Her breathing was heavy and labored and her hips rolled against his fingers, pushing him deeper. She was hot inside, clenching his finger with her muscles and whimpering as he drove into her with slow, wet strokes.

  Jesus he loved to hear that. It made his cock strain, but he refused to rush. He wanted to savor her cries of delight. “Do you like that, baby?” he asked as he nipped at her neck.

  “Yesss, Larkin. Yess.”

  He pulled out of her and Joy cried out in protest, but he needed to taste her, make her come on his tongue, so he put each of his hands at her waist and lifted her off of him, wincing when the heat of her ass left his lap. It was almost painful. “Lean over the table, Joy.”

  She did as he asked and it screwed with his guts at how she trusted him enough to comply. Larkin stood behind her and held her close, rubbing his skin against hers as he trailed kisses along her spine, kneading the flesh of her round, sculpted ass.

  With her bent over t
he table as she was, he had to close his eyes and swallow hard to keep from slamming into her. The lips of her cunt pouted, slick with desire and glistening. As his mouth roamed over her ass, he took in her scent, inhaled and savored the sweet smell that was all Joy. Larkin parted her thighs wide and they trembled at his touch, making him that much more hungry for her. It burned his gut, settled low in his abdomen, ripping through his balls, heavy with lust.

  He kissed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he knelt behind her and watched her toes curl into the carpet. “Don’t move, baby. Try to stay still when I lick you.” He heard her muffled sob against the wood table, but she didn’t move.

  Spreading her pussy, Larkin took a long, heated swipe of her wet, swollen flesh and she whimpered again. He let the heat of his tongue absorb her taste and then he rolled his tongue over her clit, anchoring his hands on her thighs to keep her from moving. He felt Joy strain against his hands as she fought not to budge. Laying his open mouth against her smooth flesh, he licked her again, angling his head as his tongue flicked over her in quick strokes. She bucked against his lips, grinding her pussy against him as best she could with her limited ability to move. Gliding over his mouth she screamed when she came. Larkin let her legs free and Joy jammed against his tongue wildly. He pressed her close, clutching her ass and keeping her flush with his mouth as he let her ride out her orgasm.

  Larkin heard her gasps as Joy struggled to breathe and he slid out from under her to pull her to his chest, taking her back to the chair and sitting her once again on his lap. He ran soothing, slow hands over her, cupping her breasts, caressing her belly as her gulps for air became less harsh. Larkin moved her hair aside and let his tongue rim the shell of her ear. “I wish you could taste yourself on my lips…”

  Joy groaned as he spoke and her nipples tightened beneath his touch. Lifting her ass, she positioned herself over his burning cock and, grasping it with one hand, stroked him as she sank onto him, slick and tight.

  Larkin’s head spun on contact, as the heat of her cunt enveloped him. He was now the one unable to catch his breath. Joy leaned forward. Bracing her hands on his thighs and using her feet as leverage, she began to ride him, slow and steady.

  His hands gripped her hips, digging his fingers into them as he let her control the pace of their thrusts. As he watched Joy’s ass move against him, his cock swelled in her. The muscles in her back, sleek and supple, strained and tensed with each upward stroke.

  Joy’s hips rolled and her moans increased as her pussy milked him, clenching his cock with fire. It took every muscle, strained and at the ready, to keep from ramming into her until Larkin heard her say his name, felt the spasm of her slick cunt before he couldn’t keep himself from lifting his hips and thrusting harder.

  Fiery heat ran along the length of his cock, sizzling and rapid, threatening to explode, but he held on until the next cry she made was of victory and then he let go too, plunging into her over and over until the hot, thick spurt of release slammed into him, tearing oxygen from his lungs.

  Joy leaned back against him, gasping as her breasts rose and fell. Larkin began to chuckle. “Well, well, vampire. That was quite impressive.”

  “For a virgin?” she responded teasingly.

  Larkin tweaked the side of her bottom. “Quit that shit, would ya? Do you know how guilty I felt over that?”

  Joy wiggled against him. “Well, I’ll tell you what. If you tell me all about Detective Larkin McBride, I promise to never mention you stole my virginity again.”

  “Bribery.”

  She nodded against him. “Yep, and I ain’t afraid to use it.”

  He didn’t want to talk about him. He especially didn’t want to talk about why he was suspended, which they’d get to if Joy had her way. “Okay. Larkin McBride in thirty words or less. Born in Chicago, raised there too. Became a cop. Been a cop for eight years. Have an apartment. Come from a big, Irish family.”

  “That was only twenty-four.”

  “Huh?”

  “You did it in twenty-four words. So why did you become a cop? Is it like on Hill Street Blues where everyone who’s Irish becomes a cop just like his dad?”

  “Something like that. Not all of us are cops. My brother sells insurance.”

  Giggling she rose from his lap and pulled him along with her. “Do you like what you do? I mean you’re a detective and young at that. It must have been a lot of hard work.”

  He tried to remain focused as her ass wiggled in front of him, taking him to her bathroom. “It was, and yeah I liked -- er, like it.”

  “So is it like on TV? Have you shot anyone?”

  Her wide-eyed stare of curiosity made his heart crash. Yeah, he’d shot someone. “Yep.”

  Joy’s face softened. “Was it awful? I’m sorry, forget that question. It was insensitive of me. So tell me why you’re here in Easton for this long? I mean, how long will they let you look into a friend’s death before they make you come back?”

  Bingo -- the question he dreaded, but knew he had to answer truthfully. “They won’t let me come back,” he said kind of defensively.

  She wrinkled her cute nose. “What?”

  Larkin frowned. “I said they won’t let me. I’m suspended.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Say again?”

  “I said they won’t let me come back because I’m suspended.”

  “Oh. When did you plan to share that with me? Before or after you were done playing big man in little city?”

  Larkin sighed and ran his hand over his stubbly chin. It rasped with an echo in the bathroom. “Well, I wasn’t going to tell you if I could avoid it. But you got pushy.”

  Joy pushed a finger under his nose. “Look who’s talking. Isn’t that rather like the pot calling the kettle black?”

  He grinned, that damn grin that was supposed to make everything all right without explanation. “Don’t flash those oral hygienist’s wet dream at me, buddy. You’ve been using your authority as a cop all over Easton and you don’t have that authority right now! So tell me why you were suspended and tell me now or you’re in the shit.”

  “I was working a case. It involved a kid who ran drugs for his father and never even knew it. He carried it in his backpack every fucking day to school and the janitor snuck into his locker and lifted the shit to sell. Somebody -- we still don’t know who, got wind of how the stuff was transported and followed the kid to school. They tried to steal the backpack and when the kid fought like a champ, they whacked him. A fucking eight-year-old kid dead because his father’s a Goddamned junkie puke.”

  Joy heard the quiet anger in Larkin’s voice. She could feel the almost tangible simmer of his fury as he tightened his jaw. Resting her cheek on his solid chest, she asked, “What happened to the father?”

  Larkin’s arms remained still at his sides and the coil of muscle beneath her cheek tensed. “I killed the motherfucker.”

  Joy closed her eyes and swallowed, wrapping her arms around his waist. “It’s inadequate at best, but I’m sorry,” she said on a nearly uncontained sob.

  “They want me to see a counselor. I don’t want to. I don’t see why I need to. The fuck who needed counseling is dead. He should have never run from me. He should have never pulled that fucking gun, but I can’t say as I’m sorry the puke is dead and that’s what a counselor will want me to say -- that I’m sorry, but I swear to Christ, Joy, I’m not.”

  Joy took his arms and wrapped them around her waist, holding him close to her as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her ear.

  They stood that way for a long time, until the tension in Larkin’s big frame relaxed and she took his hand to lead him to bed.

  * * *

  Joy awakened the next afternoon with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Larkin’s admission last night left the nurturing half of her wanting to take away his pain, but the practical side of her thought maybe counseling wasn’t a bad idea. She reached a hand over to the other side of the bed to fin
d it cold beneath her palm, and a sting of tears pricked her eyelids.

  She’d pissed Larkin off and he’d left before she had the chance to tell him she was sorry she’d pushed too far.

  Fuck.

  Rolling over, she hugged the pillow to her chest and tried to block out the prior day’s events, but her tangled thoughts kept right on coming, even as her phone rang and she reached over to grab it. “Joy? It’s Dad. Could you come right in?”

  Joy knew what that meant. It meant that another body needed embalming and she was almost grateful because it meant she had something better to do than moon over the detective.

  Showered and dressed, she drove to the parlor in a haze of muddled thoughts, mingled with tinges of regret. As she threw open the back door her dad greeted her with a warm smile. “Hi, sugar. You okay? You look tired.”

  Well, isn’t that what happens when you’re boinking all night long, then piss off the guy you boinked by making him tell you his deepest, darkest secret. I’m wonderful. Fab -- u -- lous.

  Joy gave her father a swift kiss on the cheek and smiled wanly. “I’m okay, Daddy. Just have a lot on my mind.”

  Her father’s eyebrows knitted together. “It doesn’t have to do with that Liam, does it? I can’t seem to locate the family he claims to have anywhere. If he comes around again, I’ll send him packing. Damn clan courtesy.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I hate to say it, but he kind of grossed me out and there was no way in eternity I was going to have him for a lifemate.”

  Edgar chuckled. “That’s my girl. We have a body waiting for you. I left the chart on your desk. If you’re sure you’re okay…”

  “I’m good, Dad. Don’t worry,” she said over her shoulder. Joy wondered if Ethan had talked to her parents yet as she swung open her office door and located the chart on her desk, taking it with her to the embalming room.

  Joy frowned as she read the chart. Eddie Mason, thirty-three. Found dead in his house at the bottom of his basement stairs. Two broken legs and a fractured pelvis. Cause of death, brain trauma. Joy covered her mouth with her hand to keep from yelping. He’d landed on a pitchfork, piercing his skull and puncturing his brain.