by Milly Taiden
Erica frowned when she saw him lying on the bed. “What are you doing here?”
He tried to think past the urge to strip her and lick her entire body until she came, screaming his name. “It’s time to go to bed.”
She lifted her brows. “I know that.”
“My bed is wherever you are.”
“That’s sweet. Now get out.”
“No.”
“Trent.”
“Erica.”
“I’m tired. I need sleep.”
“Come on, baby. I’ll make it worth your while.” He waggled his brows.
She looked like she was trying not to giggle. “Need. Sleep.”
“Ok, so we’ll sleep.”
“You make this so difficult.”
“It doesn’t have to be difficult. Just come to bed and let me hold you. That’s all I want to do. Don’t you understand that I love being near you. That every moment I spend next to you makes me happy. Holding you in my arms is enough to give me peace.”
Her gaze softened and she smiled. “Talk about hitting below the belt. Fine, you can stay. But I warn you, I sometimes have nightmares.”
She looked away from him, as if embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll protect you from whatever bothers your sleep.”
She climbed on the bed and sat back on her heels looking at him. “Thank you.”
He felt like they were having a critical and special moment.
“For what?” He couldn’t figure out what she was talking about this time.
“For taking care of me.” She looked down at her hands and frowned. “I know it’s hard to understand what’s happening when I touch something, but you really helped me. I don’t want you to think I don’t know that.”
Trent smiled and felt his heartbeat quicken. She’d opened up, even if only a little, to him. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to him. She lost her balance and landed over him, her hands on his shoulders and their eyes locked on each other. His hands slowly trailed from her waist, up her back until he was cupping her face. Confusion was clear in her gaze. He wanted to reassure her that he’d always have her back, but knew she’d probably dismiss his words as fluff.
“Erica…you’re special…more than anyone else has ever been.”
Her eyes widened, the crazy beating of her heart accelerating above his. “I don’t need promises or sweet words, Trent. I just want you.”
She lowered her head to kiss him. He wanted to take things slowly this time. For her to feel like what they had was more than a quick fuck, more than something temporary. He kissed her slowly, licking her lips until she dug her nails into his chest.
“I need to tell you something…”
“Not now, I don’t want to talk right now.”
“But this is really important.” He said between kisses.
“No. Now kiss me.”
He dipped his tongue into her mouth, and she mewled, seeking more, but he kept the deliberate measured pace. Their tongues caressed and twirled, mating and rubbing in a sensual dance. He traced the smooth contours of her back to the edge of her tank top and under the hem to feel her silky flesh. Heady arousal shot through him, turning his already painful erection concrete stiff.
She sat up, her crotch rubbing on his shaft, and wiggled until she straddled him. He watched her nimble fingers remove her tank top. Passion heated his blood with each move she made. She stood up on the bed, her legs to either side of him, and dropped her panties. A sensual smile slid across her full lips, making his heart trip in his chest. She crouched down and straddled him again. His hands went right to her breasts and squeezed them. She lolled her head back and pushed her chest into his hands, softly whimpering for more.
Trent lifted his torso off the bed and latched his lips on her nipple, sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. Her breath hitched. Again he did it, this time with the other. Back and forth he went on licking her soft mounds repeatedly.
“That feels so good.” She glanced down at him.
She rolled her hips over his cock. Dampness from her pussy soaked his boxers, making the wet material rub erotically between them. She pushed him on his back, caressing his chest with her breasts. “I can’t wait any more.” She licked his lower lip.
Holy fuck was she sexy.
“We don’t have to.” He pushed his boxers down his legs when she lifted off him.
She yanked the boxers off.
Needy desire gave her eyes a glazed appearance. “Yes. I want to feel you, all of you, inside me now.”
A moment later she straddled him, gripped his cock in her hand and licked her lips. He held her by the waist, his eyes glued on the sensual scene before him. She rubbed the head of his dick on her wet folds, sighing with each stroke. Heat raged inside him, took over his veins, and overpowered logic. He needed in her. Now. She lubricated his cock with the honey dripping from her slit. Their gazes locked, and she slid down and impaled herself with his shaft.
“Yesss.”
Both moaned in unison, their bodies locked tight, his cock pulsing inside her fluttering sheath.
Her palms on his chest, nails digging into his flesh, she used him to balance.
“Trent…”
She rolled her hips in a circular motion. Perspiration gave her body a golden sheen, an almost ethereal, sex-goddess type of glow. He groaned with each wiggle of her hips, gripping her tight.
“That’s it. You’re so sexy. Ride me.”
Her breasts bounced, calling his attention to the tight peaks begging to be kissed. She did a body wave that ended with her grinding her pussy on his pelvis.
“God, sweetheart,” he groaned. “That’s so fucking hot.”
He cursed when she did it again, clenching his teeth in an attempt to keep from coming before her. She threw her head back, and he swore she had no bones. Each body wave jerked his dick in a slow glide inside her slick walls. It was fantastic. She increased her speed, moaning and whimpering louder at the same time.
She sat up a little straighter and squeezed her breast with one hand, rolling her nipple between forefinger and thumb. Down her slick body, she moved her other hand between her legs to flick her clit with her middle finger.
“Oh my god, I’m—” Her breath hitched, her body tensed, and she whimpered his name.
Trent’s mind went completely blank. His sole focus: to enjoy the ride.
“Hell yes!” He grunted and lifted his ass off the bed, needing to sink his cock deeper into her wet grip. Air propelled out of his lungs at warp speed, while he released inside her tight channel.
Erica fell forward onto his chest. They both struggled to breathe, but he felt so satisfied he couldn’t stop the stupid grin that worked its way onto his face. He caressed her spine and drew circles on her ass cheeks. She had the perfect body, made for long hours of loving. He was glad she wasn’t into the being-super-skinny hype.
Too many times he’d gone out on a date with a curvy woman and seen her skip a normal meal because she was dieting and felt the need to lose the curves god had given her. It made no sense to him. He liked his women with enough meat on them that he could have something to hold on to. He squeezed Erica’s ass. She had the sexiest body. As soon as his brain stopped drooling over it, he’d get her to ride him again.
Erica slid off him, but when she gave him her back and tried to move away, he just pulled her flush against his front and spooned her. She wiggled her butt and fell asleep with his arms around her waist.
Trent woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of soft whimpers. After a moment of intense listening, he realized the cries were coming from Erica. She’d turned toward him at some point in the night. Since she’d warned him about the possibility of a nightmare, it didn’t catch him unawares. She hugged him. His arm pillowed her head. The low lighting from the bathroom allowed him to see her face clearly. Tears fell from the corners of her closed lids. It was hard to watch. Wrapping his other arms around her, he held her close.
> “Shhh, sweetheart,” he whispered. “It’s alright. I’m here. Relax, love.”
He rubbed her back in what he hoped were soothing motions and kissed her forehead. Her whimpering quieted, but he continued to hold her, unwilling to let go. He stayed that way, with her in his arms, and whispered that all was fine until she relaxed in his hold. Pain had filled his heart when he’d seen her cry in her sleep. It felt good, right, to have her in his arms.
* * *
“So you’re sure the ex is at the police station?” Trent glanced at Erica’s face. She frowned, deep in concentration.
“Yes. Apparently when the father heard that his son was in our list of suspects he wanted the kid cleared and sent junior to answer any questions we have. The kid isn’t very happy we’ve kept him waiting. He promised to call the news stations and every politician his daddy is friends with.” She sighed, turning to look out the window.
Upon nearing the police station, Trent thought about what they needed to ask. Erica had mentioned that she’d know, once she spoke to Derek Holmes for a few minutes, if he was the killer. What he didn’t tell her was that he’d also know if Derek was the killer. All he’d need to do was ask, and if the kid was lying he’d smell it immediately. He had to sit and talk to Erica soon about his shifter abilities.
When they got to the station, he cut off the engine and turned to her. Just before she had a chance to pull the door handle and jump out, he grabbed her, stopping her movement.
She glanced his way, her brows lifted in question.
“I don’t know what you plan to do in there, but I don’t want you doing anything that’s going to make you pass out. Brock and I want you to stay away from anything that will create stress.” He and Brock both felt the need to ensure she didn’t overuse her ability.
She stared at him for a moment. “I’m fine. I rested.”
Trent realized she hadn’t agreed to his request. “Promise there won’t be any John Edwards stuff with you and the kid.”
She chuckled, a low, throaty sound he loved, and shook her head. “There won’t be anything strange with the suspect. I just need to talk to him.”
That was going to have to be enough, because she didn’t seem like she’d offer any other promises. Trent jumped out of the Jeep and followed behind her into the small station. Inside, the same deputy they’d spoken to before waited by the counter. Deputy Owens smiled the moment he saw Erica.
“Ms. Villa, nice to see you again.”
“Deputy Owens.” She shook his offered hand. “We’re here to speak to Derek Holmes.”
One thing he loved about his woman was that she didn’t beat around the bush. She had adopted the professional, profiler look that turned him into a horny teenager. He wondered if he should tell his sister, the psychiatrist, about that. It was probably best that he keep his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was his sister asking him about his emotions and sex life.
“We understand he’s being held somewhere so we can ask him a few questions?” Erica walked around the counter to the open door the deputy held for them.
“That’s right,” Owens answered. He motioned for them to follow him down the hall and stopped in front of a room with a glass window on the door. He unlocked the door, turned the handle, and pushed it open with his palm. Inside the room was a young man, probably in his early twenties, with a medium build and a pretty-boy face. He glowered at the three of them.
“I’m calling the mayor. When my father hears that you’ve kept me locked up without some kind of court order I’m going to sue your asses.” Derek Holmes smirked. He sat back in his seat, shifting so his right arm draped over the chair’s back.
“You haven’t been locked up. Your father said you would cooperate. That’s why you’re here.”
“Yeah, well making me sit in this little room waiting for you people is just as bad as holding me against my will.”
Trent fisted his hands, ready to punch the little snot in the face for the way he was staring at Erica.
“And who are you?” Derek asked, his perverted little smile widening while he openly eyed Erica’s body.
“I’m Agent Villa. This is Agent Buchanan.” She pointed at Trent. “We need to ask you a few questions regarding some young women you dated recently.”
Trent watched her move forward, until she stood across the table from where Derek sat. “We’re investigating the deaths of Lisa Summers and Gina Torres.”
“Yeah? I heard they were dead. What does that have to do with me?” He was still eyeing Erica’s boobs with way too much interest. A snarl worked up Trent’s throat. The wolf inside him wanted to come out, chew the little bastard and spit him out.
Trent focused on the job and not breaking the dumbass kid’s jaw.
“I mean I went out with both of them. But after a while I got bored. Young girls get clingy, and I can’t stand that.” Derek winked at Erica.
Erica smiled, a cold little quirk of her lips that showed no amusement. She gripped the edge of the table. “Mr. Holmes, we’ve spoken to your father, and it was made clear to him that this is just a few questions. We can’t hold you here without a formal charge if you don’t want to be here, but we were told you’d be cooperating. I know your father doesn’t want your family name dragged through the media in association with a murder case. We just need to ask you a few things. I understand this is not the place you would rather be.”
She sounded almost apologetic, but then she pursed her lips, conveying she didn’t really care how much they were bothering him. “But two girls are dead. Two girls you dated, Mr. Holmes. Now I suggest you cooperate with us, get yourself cleared, and then you can go back to your busy life.”
“I’ve had nothing to do with them for months.” He straightened.
She leaned forward, placed her hands palms flat on the table, and stared at him “Mr. Holmes.” Her voice was soft, dripping ice. “I want to find whoever killed these girls. But I do not want to waste my time with someone who’s innocent. Do you understand?”
“What is it you want to know?” he asked in a more serious tone of voice. Although his gaze was still stuck on Erica’s rack, he appeared ready to cooperate. Trent had a hard time not walking up to Derek and bashing in his head.
Trent’s heart took a nosedive when Erica outstretched her hand to shake the kid’s.
She glanced at Trent for just a second, her eyes filled with frustration, before she turned back to Derek.
“I have a few questions. You are one of the few people both girls had in common. So where were you on the night both girls died, Mr. Holmes?”
“I already told your people that I was at a party both times.” He shrugged. “What? I get invited to a lot of parties. I’m a popular guy.”
“I understand that, Mr. Holmes. But you don’t know who could have killed either girl?”
He shook his head. “I’m a busy guy. Once I’m done with them, I move on to bigger and better. They were kind of pissed at me when I broke things off, so I didn’t bother staying friends.”
“We also need to know if there is anyone you may know of who would want to hurt either Lisa or Gina.”
Eric’s smooth cockiness disappeared momentarily while he thought about her question. “I don’t…wait. Gina mentioned a professor who made her feel kind of uncomfortable a time or two when she babysat for him. Some James Green.
“What about Lisa? Did she mention anyone to you?”
“Lisa had Green’s class too at one point last semester, I remember because she gushed about him, but she never actually said she felt uncomfortable. He’s the only one I remember both of them mentioning at one point or another.”
“Mr. Holmes, thank you for your cooperation in this case. You’re free to go. In the future, we’ll direct any questions through your father’s lawyer, who we’ve been told is your representative. But please, if you think of anything else that could be helpful to finding whoever killed these girls, give your sheriff’s office a call or…” She pulled a
card out of her pocket. “You can also call me.”
“Oh, OK.” Derek smiled, giving her what was clearly his most charming attempt at smooth and cool. “If you have any other questions you need to ask, you can call me directly. But only you.” He winked at her.
After Derek Holmes walked out of the room, Trent watched Erica sit down and rub a hand over her forehead. She sighed. “He’s not the one.”
Well yeah, he’d known that much when the kid had told the truth, but still. Fuck. When she shook Holmes’s hand and didn’t freak out, he had known for sure. At least they had one suspect less.
Chapter Nine
Erica was still consumed by the strong emotions radiating off Derek Holmes. The kid was more than met the eye, but he was no killer. She saw and sensed that he liked adulation. But only a slight darkness surrounded him, which was minor compared to what she knew lived inside the person they were trying to find.
Her stomach churned painfully at the thought of another day without finding the murderer. He was intent on killing the college girls. Gulping at the knot in her throat, she followed Holmes outside. She looked at the sports car where Derek Holmes slid into the passenger side. He smiled at her before shutting the door. A strange sensation gripped her. She stopped and took a breath, but the air in her lungs evaporated, and the world went askew.
“What the fuck? Erica?” Trent sounded alarmed. He grabbed her by the arms just when her knees gave under her.
“I don’t understand…” She continued to stare at the sports car.
The sun’s glare didn’t allow her to look inside the dark windshield. All she got was a glimpse of Holmes’s smile. She panted, staring at the car as it made a turn, moving away from them and down the street. Could she have been wrong? Was Derek Holmes the killer? The dread that gripped her was one she’d experienced before, when she’d gotten close to a psychopath projecting his darkness outward. Evil could not be contained in some people. But she’d touched Derek and nothing had come across from the victims’ deaths. So what in the world was going on?