by Allen, Sara
She reached up to cradle his face between her palms, rubbing her thumbs over his rough cheeks. She didn’t know how to give back the reassurance that he obviously needed, but she was willing to try. She couldn’t understand this big strong man showing her all of his emotional stress. There was obviously more that he’d been keeping from her, shielding her from some truth or other while keeping her strapped literally to his side.
He threw the car back into gear and continued back to the apartment. She wasn’t going anywhere today, no further than Jones’ bedroom she guessed, but they had some serious sexual tension that needed to be itched and today, it seemed, would be the day that those itches would be scratched.
****
Jones couldn’t believe he’d kidnapped her for the day. But he couldn’t go on any longer, and that comment about not owning her had been the last straw. He would show her who she belonged to, and he wasn’t making the mistake of leaving it for another day. This was one thing that had gone on for far too long. She had taken over his world, and he had no outlet to claw a little bit of his sanity back. Today he was taking back the reins and being the boss he needed to be.
Once back at the apartment, he’d turned and locked the door. They had everything they needed. Just the two of them.
He traced his fingers up her arm, feeling her shiver with delight. He removed her shirt, helped her with her shoes, and lay all the rest of her clothes on the back of the sofa. Not that she would need clothes for the day, not if he had anything to do with it. He removed his shirt and shoes, placing them next to Val’s and looked at the woman who had been driving him nuts for the last month.
Leading her to his room, he gave her no chance to speak, or ask questions or put up objections. The missing piece of their puzzle was the intimacy they both craved, and he couldn’t take seeing her and not touching her any longer.
Jones took his time removing the last articles of their clothing until they both lay bare and exposed. She had a beautiful body; toned and trim, her body was just right to make the experience pleasurable and rewarding for them both. With the first taste of her, he knew he couldn’t go back and would never get enough of her. Val was his poison and his antidote. He knew he could no longer do without her in his crazy life. He’d been having trouble controlling himself without even touching her as it was; he didn’t want to rush through the first time they shared each other, but his animal instincts to have her, outweighed his desire.
Jones stood watching her. He didn’t want to move, and he didn’t want to stand looking at her with such intensity, but he couldn’t help himself.
“What’s wrong?” Val asked.
“You are so fucking beautiful right now, I can’t even believe you’re here…with me.”
“Where should I be?” she teased him.
“Nowhere. Here with me. I need you,” he told her, his heart was beating in his chest so loud, he was sure she must have heard it. He licked his lips that were dry with desire.
Val held her lip between her teeth, “Kiss me, Pete. Just like this morning. Kiss me and make me forget my name.”
“Anything for you,” he stalked towards her. The intensity in his eyes, pinned her to the spot she’d stood in when Jones had led her to the room.
He enclosed her in his arms, bending to kiss her neck, which Val arched to make it easy for him. She wanted him so much. She had wanted him for days, weeks, but didn’t want to appear too forward. Now she wasn’t waiting. She gripped him, feeling his hardness pulse under her fingers. Her mouth watered, thinking about what she held in her hand.
“Don’t touch what you can’t handle,” he breathed over her lips, biting her, soft at first, and then with more insistent bites, bruising her lips with his teeth…ravenous.
“I can handle anything you have.” She wanted him. No more talking.
Val hadn’t noticed he’d been backing her against the bathroom door, until Jones reached behind her, opening the door, and backing her inside. He didn’t want to release her lips. The last articles of clothing had been shed.
Jones turned on the shower, “I need to see you wet, just for me.”
Val’s breath hitched. He had no idea just how wet she was, just how wanting she was. She smiled, slow and sensuous. She opened her mouth slightly to lick her lips, to speak and tell him to get a move on, already.
He stepped into the shower, taking her with him. The water cascaded around them, wetting them, shocking them, the warmth adding to the heat of their desire.
Jones pushed Val against the tiled wall, covering her body with his own. His kisses became urgent, desperate. He lifted her leg, seeking entry. Val lifted herself onto her toes, bending to give him easier access.
Jones entered slowly, forcing himself to take it slow. He watched her face, watched her close her eyes with the sensations filling her, saw her open her mouth, as though she wanted to speak, but had nothing to say.
“Look at me,” Jones told her.
She opened her eyes. A small laugh escaped her lips, “You feel so fucking good.” She rocked her hips back and forth, creating friction that had Jones gritting his teeth.
“If you do that, I’m not gonna last.”
“If you don’t move, I’m gonna take it anyway. Move, dammit!” Val gripped his sodden hair, forcing his mouth down onto hers. She sucked his tongue, her hips mimicking the movement of her mouth.
“Fuck, Val,” Jones gasped. He took hold of both her legs, lifting her easily, and settling her more firmly in place. Val groaned with pleasure, her tongue darting out of her mouth. She pushed her ass off the tiles, resting against the wall with her shoulders giving her leverage, and moved with the rocking motion of Jones. Water pummeled his back, as he pushed into her more forcefully, he could feel the tension building, he needed to release, but wanted Val to come along for the ride.
“For fuck’s sake, don’t wait, I need… to… Oh My God!” Val gasped.
Jones needed no more encouragement than that. He gripped her harder, pushing himself faster, losing himself in the friction that had him wondering how the hell he had waited so long. Pleasure, like pain, took them both over the edge, in a groaning, giggling, gasping rush. Jones stood panting, holding Val as their breathing slowed, and as the now cold water rinsed away into the drain.
“Amazing,” Val said. Her arms gripped his neck, “But maybe you should put me down now.”
“What makes you think that’s it?” Jones reached over, turned off the water, and carried Val back to the bedroom.
“We’re wet!” she shrieked.
“Fuck it, who cares,” he said, as he fell with her onto the bed.
They laughed, kissing and touching, exploring new ways to satisfy each other.
They then fell into a drunken, sated sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms, feeding on the consolation of body heat to drive away the remaining lust. Jones couldn’t let Val go any further than the reach of his arms that day. He was thinking how difficult it would be for him to allow her to leave him the next day, but he would man up and do the right thing.
He made some calls and a few difficult decisions, but he’d decided that he wouldn’t bully her into position any longer; he didn’t need to. They both knew where they stood now, and with the understanding came a sense of ease, a sense that they knew where they belonged.
Seven
08:25 a.m. November 17, 2004
Val drove herself to work the next day for the first time in a long while. She breathed a sigh of relief, not because she had finally gotten away from her overbearing beau, but because she’d claimed back a measure of her independence. She parked and walked to the gallery’s back entrance as she dug through her bag to retrieve her ringing phone. Jones had been calling her nearly every ten minutes to check up on her.
After the twelfth call since she’d left home that morning, she answered the phone and snapped, “If you call me again, I'm turning off my phone! This is too much. Seriously!”
“If you do that, I won’t be res
ponsible for my actions,” Jones warned her.
“You’re driving me insane!” she said, her hand clawing through her hair in exasperation.
“It’s your own fault,” Jones told her reasonably, “You insisted on driving yourself. If I’d driven you, I’d know where you were.”
“Okay! Fine, but when I crash into oncoming traffic, you’ll be the one to blame because you distracted me!” she snapped again.
She was going to lose her mind because of him. As much as she loved him, he was a persistent handful. He was demanding with a capital D.
“I wouldn’t do that either if I were you. Do you know what kind of cleanup operation a Road Traffic Accident causes?” Jones teased her.
“Bye!”
Jones laughed into the phone, “I’ll call you in an hour.”
“Whatever,” Val replied as she punched the button, cutting him off mid-laugh.
Exasperatingly annoying man!
Val walked the last few steps towards the back entrance of the gallery. This early in the morning, the public doors at the front of the gallery would be closed. She rang the bell, waving at the security camera that she knew was watching her every move. Val heard a scuffle behind her, but before she could turn, she felt hands grab her, restricting her movements. Someone was dragging her backward while pressing their hand over her mouth, preventing her scream from escaping.
She took a breath to let out another scream and felt herself becoming drowsy. Val fought for consciousness for as long as she could, which wasn’t nearly long enough. The sticky, cloying, chemical taste coated her tongue, wrapping around her throat, loosening her limbs and making her lethargic.
The last coherent thought she had was, Jones is going to be extremely pissed!
****
09:45 a.m. November 17, 2004
“Pick up the damn phone, woman!” Jones spat into the phone. He’d been calling Val for the last fifteen minutes nonstop. There was no way she would have turned off the phone, even if she’d threatened to do it. Val knew, he’d take forever to forgive her, and she wouldn’t hear the end of it if she did! So why the hell Val wasn’t answering her phone, Jones didn’t know, but he had an uneasy feeling in his gut. A feeling he didn’t even want to explore, but had to.
“Still no answer?” Doug asked, apprehension showing in the easy-going man’s stance.
“No!”
“Maybe she went to the ladies’ room, and didn’t take her phone with her,” Doug reasoned.
“She knew I would call her, so she wouldn’t have done that.”
“Maybe the battery died from all the calling,” Doug said again.
“No. Something isn’t right. She would have called me back by now because she’d know I’d be there looking for her.” Jones told Doug, as he reached for his jacket, determination in his step.
“Where are you going?” Doug asked.
Jones gave him a look that said if he had to ask, then he didn’t know him at all.
“Hang on! Wait for me!” Doug scrambled to grab his jacket, running after Jones as he stormed through the station office floor, making for the outside.
****
10:45 a.m. November 17, 2004
Jones just barely kept within the speed limit, cursing each time a traffic signal stopped them from reaching their destination faster. Jones’ jaw ached with the pressure of gritting his teeth for so long, but he couldn’t relax; not yet. Not until he knew that Val was okay and that nothing more had happened to her, but simple lack of understanding that he meant what he said!
He fought hard to relax and not throw caution to the wind by driving like a maniac through the busy streets of London. The threat of a severe warning from his bosses made him ease up off of the accelerator.
They finally reached the narrow road that ran down the side of the gallery. Jones barely had time to lock the doors behind him before he was bounding through the busy crowds that were always in attendance at the world famous gallery. He didn’t want to push anyone out of the way, but did because he had to get inside; each minute being one that he could have spent preventing something from happening to her.
Jones finally reached Val’s office and found the door locked and the corridor silent. Jones shook the handle vigorously until he lost all patience and began pounding on it, calling out to Val. If she were inside unconscious or something, that would explain a lot, and he could clear up where she'd disappeared to.
“Excuse me, sir! You can’t just come in here beating down doors and shouting like that!” shouted the secretary Jones had met on a few occasions. “Oh, sorry, Detective Jones,” she said in surprise once she recognized him.
“Where’s Val?” he asked, not giving her a chance to chit-chat.
“She didn’t come in this morning. She didn’t call either,” she informed him.
Jones felt as if someone had doused him with ice water. “Say that again?”
“I said she never came in.”
“Where do you generally come in before the front doors open?” Jones asked.
“I’ll show you.”
They were following Christen as she led them down to the lower floor, where the back entrance exited the building and allowed deliveries and staff to come and go. However, between Val talking to Jones and her arriving at her office, something like an hour and a half ago, she hadn’t made it inside. In fact, it looked as if she’d dropped off the face of the earth.
“Could she have gone home?” Doug asked, seeking clarification.
“She didn’t go home, Doug,” Jones told him matter-of-factly.
Jones cautioned himself. He wouldn’t panic or jump to conclusions. It would ruin his clarity. He needed to think coherently, rather than act irrationally and lose sight of the goal. He wouldn’t go overboard and start breaking things. First, he would find Val. Second, once he had her in his arms, all hell would break loose.
****
Jones and Doug entered the security office, flashing their police I.D.’s.
“Where’s the list of staff who came through the back doors at around nine o’clock this morning?” Jones enquired.
“It’s here. What’s the problem?” the guard in charge asked as he handed the list over.
Jones scanned the list. Val’s name wasn’t on it. She hadn’t signed in, which confirmed that she hadn’t entered.
Where the hell is she? Jones frantically thought as he asked, “Video surveillance?”
“I can’t show you that without a warrant,” the guard said, indignant.
“Listen you; a woman is missing! A woman who should be here and she’s not. Now show me that fucking video surveillance stream!” Jones shouted.
The guard could see that it was serious, so he conceded, “If anyone asks, I'm telling them you requested to see it, we aren’t allowed to show this too anyone without a warrant!”
“Tell them what you want. Show me the recording now. Wind it back to before nine o’clock!” Jones demanded.
They watched as the recording showed nothing but the empty doorway until Val came into view speaking into her phone. She appeared angry when she punched the screen to end the call she was on. Jones knew that she’d been talking to him, and cursed under his breath. What happened next had Doug reaching for his police radio and Jones clenching his fists in rage.
They watched as Val was snatched off the street in broad daylight. She was taken from right under his nose. There was nothing he could do except attempt to trace Val’s steps without so much as a clue.
****
12:20 p.m. November 17, 2004
The outside of the gallery was a hive of activity. They were scanning the video back and forth, trying to see if they could gather any clues. This was the shit that Jones hated; the standing and waiting! He needed to see some action, and that action needed to happen now, not later, when the trail would be stone cold.
The problem was that they didn’t have a clue, not one lousy lead. It was like she had disappeared into thin air. Jones remembered he
r cell phone and went to ask the tech guys if they could follow her GPS signal. It was a long shot, but he had to try something.
“Okay. I think we have something,” Morgan, the tech guru, said. “Call her number, Jones. Let's see if this is it.” His jaws moved with the chomping of his gum, snapping it between his teeth and working it, searching for hidden flavor.
Jones looked at him, slightly disgusted, as he dialed Val’s number. The call connected and rung a few times as Morgan watched his screen intently for activity, as he said, “A few more seconds… Just a few…” Then he exclaimed in delight, “Snap!”
“It’s not guaranteed until she’s safe and sound,” Jones said. He was leaving nothing to chance, “Address?”
****
15:15 p.m. November 17, 2004
“What the fuck is this place?” Doug asked quietly.
The signal had led them to an abandoned warehouse on the side of the Thames near Shoreditch. The area was so run down that even abandoned cars were scarce.
“It’s too quiet,” Jones remarked as they looked around the site.
“Are you sure this is the right address?” Doug asked again.
“The GPS led us here!” Jones was quickly losing patience. “I didn’t get the place out my ass, you know!”
“Okay, calm down. I'm just saying this place is deserted; more deserted than my fridge on a Friday night,” Doug tried to make a joke to lighten the atmosphere.
Apparently it didn’t work, by the look Jones threw him.
“Okay, I’ll just shut up over here.” He mimicked zipping up his lips, turning his apologetic gaze towards Jones.
“Let’s go see what story this place has to tell,” Jones said, as he opened the car door and got out.
There was a squad of officers, most sporting guns, due to the recorded abduction of Val. They assumed that whoever had taken her was dangerous, until they had reason to believe they weren’t.