“I shouldn’t be touching you like this,” he growled, his fingers curling into the flannel. She gasped as the fabric rode higher up her thighs. “If you were smart you would walk away.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Instead, Jane climbed into his lap, straddling his legs, but when she tried to touch him, he grasped her wrists.
“Tell me you don’t need this as much as I do,” she said.
For a minute he only looked at her, then he cursed and dropped his hands to his sides. “What we’re doing is completely nuts.”
“Maybe, but completely nuts seems to be working for us. Why spoil a good thing?”
He reached up to cradle her face in his palms, brushed his mouth over hers, and everything in the world felt right again. She savored the gentle pressure of his lips, so tender and sweet. And, oh, did he know how to kiss. She felt herself sinking deeper under his spell, longing building low in her belly. She inhaled the scent of his hair, his skin. He smelled of sun and shampoo and freshly cut grass.
She threaded her fingers through his hair and he moaned. He held her closer, kissed deeper. Her pulse pounded hard and fast. She ached for him to fill the hollow place inside of her, to make her feel whole again.
He pulled the robe off her shoulder, kissed her there, nipping with his teeth. She grasped the hem of his shirt, lifted it up over his head, taking in the sight of all that tanned skin, taut over lean muscle. Tentatively she reached out to touch him, watching her own hands as she smoothed her palms down his chest, over the sparse hair circling his small dark nipples.
“Damn,” he breathed. “Nothing that feels this good should be legal.”
She gasped as his hands settled over her hips firmly, possessively, pulling her intimately against him. It frightened and excited her all at once. Boldly, she let her hands drift lower. The muscles of his stomach coiled under her touch, and his grip on her tightened. She wanted more—every part of her throbbed to feel his touch—but when he reached for the tie on her robe, tugged it loose, uncertainty sent her hands flying up to stop him.
“Don’t tell me you’re going shy on me now,” he said.
She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, where this sudden doubt was coming from. “I—I don’t know why I did that.”
He curled his fingers through hers. “Someone hurt you.”
“Maybe.” She watched with fascination as he raised her hands to his lips, kissing her fingers, one by one.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He kissed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. She never imagined that he could be so tender and gentle. She let her head roll back, closing her eyes as he kissed the column of her throat, her collarbone, between her breasts. With every brush of his lips, each whisper of his breath against her skin, her apprehension dissolved a little bit more.
He nudged the robe aside, exposing the very tops of her breasts, tracing the slight swell with his thumbs. As the robe slid off her shoulders, down her arms, she smothered the urge to reach up and cover herself.
Mitch gently cupped her breasts in his palms. He caressed with his thumbs, each pass making her quiver, making the blood surge faster through her veins. This time she didn’t try to stop him when he pulled the ties loose on her robe. She held her breath as it slipped to the floor, leaving her completely exposed. Though instinct told her she should be feeling vulnerable and reserved, the look in Mitch’s eyes—the unguarded appreciation—showed her he was risking just as much. He was exposing himself emotionally.
It made her want him even more.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, running his hands over her skin, his touch barely more than a tease. With trembling fingers, she unhooked his belt and unfastened his jeans, rising up on her knees, so he could pull them down. Instead, he hooked an arm around her waist, hauled her against his chest and slipped a hand between her thighs.
That first touch, the first stroke of his fingers, rocked through her like pure energy. She gasped, gripping his shoulders.
He stroked lightly, focusing on the center of her heat. The place that burned for his touch. His eyes locked on her face. There was an intensity there, a hunger that frightened and thrilled her. Her legs felt weak and her head dizzy. She knew deep in her soul that no other man had ever made her feel this way. A feeling this exquisite, so purely physical yet deeply emotional, would be impossible to forget.
He stopped long enough to shove his jeans and boxers down and kick them away, then he pulled her back down into his lap. He sank his fingers into her hair, locked his mouth over hers. The kiss was deep and searching—desperate. It never ceased to amaze her how much of himself he put into every kiss, every touch.
She arched against him, searching him out, and gasped at the sheer intimacy of their position, at her need to feel him inside of her. Before the hollow place swallowed her up and she ceased to exist.
“My wallet,” he groaned against her mouth, his voice raspy. “I need my wallet.”
Reaching back, she groped for his pants and scooped them up off the floor. He wrenched his wallet free and pulled out a condom. She watched with utter fascination as he tore the package open with his teeth and rolled it on. He was so beautiful, so perfect.
He scooped her out of his lap and laid her on the couch cushions, lowering himself over her, and she felt a brief, yet undeniable flash of panic.
Mitch froze. “Something’s wrong.”
“No. It’s just, for a second I felt…trapped.”
Mitch held himself very still above her. “Do you trust me?”
That he’d cared enough to ask spoke volumes about the kind of man he was. Emotion clogged her throat, stealing her voice. If she tried to speak she would only burst into tears. So to show him just how deeply that trust ran, she wove her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs over his hips, and eased him into the cradle of her thighs. In one slow smooth thrust he sank down, filled her, his weight pressing her deeper into the cushions. There was no fear, no apprehension, only sweet fulfillment. With every carefully measured thrust, he drove her closer to satisfaction, until the world became a blur of scents and sounds and sensation.
Her last coherent thought before she gave into bliss was that Mitch had been right. This felt too good. Too perfect. Then she stopped thinking altogether.
Cold. She felt so cold and alone. The edges of her vision were blurred and dark and no matter how hard she concentrated she couldn’t see clearly. She needed to see, to get out of there, before something bad happened.
She heard a soft whimper and looked down to find a baby cradled in her arms. She squinted, tried to see if it was a boy or a girl. It was hers, yet it wasn’t hers.
Then she heard the laugh. It was taunting, evil. She spun around, fear gripping her as she strained to find the source, to see through the fog. The sound seemed to come from everywhere—and nowhere.
It was him. He’d found her again. And she knew what he wanted.
“You can’t have my baby,” she screamed into the darkness and was answered with another maniacal laugh. She cradled the baby close to her chest, but her arms were suddenly empty. “No!”
Then she saw him, a shadowy figure drifting just outside of her vision. He wasn’t going to take the baby from her. Not this time. She tried to run toward him but her legs felt weighted down. She forced them to move, pushing with all her strength, picking up speed, yet every time she felt she was getting closer, he disappeared around a corner.
All around her faceless people watched, but did nothing. No one would help her. Then she saw them. Her parents. She couldn’t see their faces, but she knew it was them.
“He took my baby. Stop him,” she pleaded.
“So spoiled,” they said sadly. “Never happy with what you have. Always breaking our hearts.”
“Please, help me,” she begged, but when she reached for them, they faded away.
Then she felt hands gripping her arms. It was him. She had to fight, she had to get free!
“Jane!”
/> Her eyes flew open. She was struggling, pushing up against the hands restraining her. Then she saw that it was Mitch looking down at her through the dark. She looked around, realized she was in his bedroom, in his bed.
“Easy,” he said, his voice low and soothing.
Her body went slack against the mattress. She was with Mitch. She was safe.
He let go of her arms and she threw them around his neck.
He held her close, stroking her hair. “It’s okay. It’s just a dream.”
“I remember it this time. There was a man chasing me.” A shudder raced up her spine. “I was holding a baby and he took it.”
“Who was he?”
“I don’t know, but my parents were there, too, and they wouldn’t help me.”
“You saw them?”
“Not their faces, but I knew it was them. I felt so alone.”
His arms tightened around her. “You’re not alone.”
She pressed her cheek against his chest, heard the steady thump of his heart. His skin was soft and warm and scented with the soap they’d used in the shower earlier that evening.
“It was so strange. It was my baby, but it wasn’t. Now I know I don’t have kids. I also know this man from my dream is after me. I could…feel him. He won’t stop until he finds me.”
“Whoever he is, I’m not going to let him get you.”
“What’s going to happen tomorrow when you go in to see your lieutenant?”
“Let me worry about that, okay?” God knows he was doing enough worrying for the both of them. Worrying what would happen when he was inevitably pulled from the case. He was beginning to think it would be for the best. He was getting too attached, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it. As long as they could find someone they trusted to watch over her. If that person even existed.
He stroked her back and neck, ran his fingers through her hair. Finally she relaxed against him. Her breath was less ragged now, and warm against his neck. Then he felt her mouth against his skin and—ouch! She was biting him.
“Hey,” he said, “didn’t we determine the biting is unnecessary?”
She nipped his shoulder and whispered, “What if I promise not to draw blood this time?”
Her hands slid up into his hair and she tangled her fingers through it, pulling his head back so she could reach his throat. Her teeth scraped his Adam’s apple, his chin.
“We should get some sleep,” he said gruffly.
“I don’t want to sleep. Make love to me again.”
She kissed him, drawing his lower lip between her teeth. Well, hell, when she put it that way it was hard to say no. He rolled onto his back, reaching for the box of protection on the night table. He barely had time to roll one on before she was on top of him.
Each time they’d made love, she’d gradually dropped her inhibitions, become bolder. He had the sneaking suspicion he’d unleashed some sort of animal.
In the back of his mind he knew he had to put an end to this. He had to be the rational one. It was clear what he had to do.
Tomorrow, he thought, as she sank down, surrounding him in her heat. He would be rational tomorrow.
Nothing was going as planned. Frustration choked him.
Luck. That’s all it was. They were very lucky. He could have taken her today. He was so close. But taking her would have meant innocent victims.
He stood in the shadows, watching the house. The lights had gone out hours ago. He knew what they were doing in there. Women knew just what to do to get their way. They used men, treated them like brainless animals. If he could, he would make them all pay.
The pager on his belt vibrated and he checked the display, a smile curling his lips. It was the sign he’d been waiting for. Funny how, in an instant, everything could fall into place. How, after all the searching, the hiding, she’d come running back to him on her own. Proving once and for all, she was the weak one.
It’s time, Jane Doe. You’ve served your purpose.
He was ready to begin the final phase. If everything went as planned, by tomorrow, this would all be over.
Chapter 13
Jane sat next to Mitch in the car, wringing her hands in the skirt of her dress. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing her fingers. Despite the balmy temperature her fingers were ice cold. “Relax.”
She gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m trying. I just have this feeling that something really bad is going to happen today.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He pulled his hand free and put it back on the steering wheel. If he didn’t stop touching her he would do something drastic, like turn the car around, take her back home and spend the day making love to her. Then he would miss the meeting with his lieutenant, and something bad would happen—he would lose his job.
He just couldn’t satisfy the need to be close to her. It had occurred to him that morning, as he dressed for work, that he should be feeling regret, or at the very least guilt, for what they had done. Sex with a victim was wrong in more ways than he could count. But what they’d experienced last night went so far beyond sex it was difficult to determine exactly what had happened. He’d never connected to a woman like he had with Jane. Not just physically or emotionally, but spiritually. Like two lost souls finding each other and uniting.
Souls uniting? Christ, where was he getting this crap? If Darren heard him talk this way he’d have Mitch committed.
“It’s getting closer,” Jane said. “I can feel it.”
“What’s getting closer?”
“My memory. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a precipice. Someone or something is nudging me from behind, but I’m afraid of what I’m going to find down there. It’s so dark and cold. I find myself fighting it, trying not to remember. And the more I fight it the closer it comes.” She turned to Mitch, her eyes wide and full of apprehension. “What if it’s something really bad.”
He tugged on the sleeve of her jacket, coaxing her closer, because he couldn’t stand to see her afraid and not do something to soothe her. She slid across the seat, leaning into him, and he tucked an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll deal with it, Jane. You’re not in this alone.”
“The thing is, I don’t want you to protect me. I know it probably won’t make any sense to you—it doesn’t even make sense to me—but I feel like I need to face this alone. Like I should be taking care of myself.”
He didn’t want her to tackle this alone. He wanted to be there for her. To take care of her. But he knew she would never let him. She would only let him so close. And that hurt more than he wanted to admit. But it made what he had to do a little bit easier. “You’re right, that doesn’t make sense.”
“I know.” She blew out a long, frustrated breath, letting her head fall back against the seat.
As they drew closer to the police station, Mitch slowed the car. He couldn’t exactly pull into the lot with them sitting this way. “Uh, Jane?”
She looked up at him questioningly.
He nodded to the other side of the bench. “You should probably scoot over.”
She looked at the seat, then up at the patrol cars and officers in the station lot. “To give the illusion that we didn’t spend the night in bed together?”
“Something like that.”
“Gotcha.” She slid out of his arms, to the other end of the seat.
He pulled into the lot and parked near the back, steeling himself for what was sure to be a major reaming from his lieutenant.
“If I forget to mention it, it was great,” Jane said.
Mitch pulled the keys from the ignition and turned to her. “What was great?”
“Last night. It was…” She sighed, looking wistful. “I would say it was amazing, but it was more than that. It was…all-encompassing. Gigantic.”
He lifted a brow at her. “It was gigantic?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “God, you are such a man. I didn’t mean that was gigantic. Not that it was inadequate by any me
ans, but…you’re making fun of me.”
Dappled sunlight pouring through the windshield danced against the gold highlights of her hair, making it shimmer. He longed to reach out and slip his fingers through it. The need to touch her, to be close to her, was overwhelming. Her honesty got him every time.
Man, he was in big trouble. If he didn’t cut her loose now, he knew he would be sorry.
Jane sat in the squad room, her eye on the door Mitch had disappeared through nearly twenty minutes earlier. A shiver of fear trickled along her spine. Here she was surrounded by police, in quite possibly the safest building in all of Twin Oaks and she couldn’t shake a feeling of wariness. She folded her arms around herself, sinking down in the chair, wishing herself invisible. Would she never feel safe again?
Across the room, the door swung open and Mitch emerged followed by Arnold Palmer and another detective she didn’t recognize. She bolted up in the chair, trying to read his expression, to guess what may have transpired. His face was stoic as they crossed to his desk, and he wouldn’t meet her eye.
“Jane,” he said, gesturing to the third detective. “This is Detective Petroski, and you already know Detective Waite.”
Jane looked up at Mitch as if to ask, “What does this mean to me?” although she already had a pretty good idea what was coming next.
“As of this morning they’ve been assigned to your case. You’ll be kept in protective custody until we’ve either caught the man who attacked you, or feel he no longer poses a threat.”
Jane swayed in her seat. Though he didn’t come right out and say it, it was clear what had happened. She’d been sure he would catch some heat from his lieutenant, but she never expected him to be yanked from the case.
“I thought we didn’t know who we could trust.”
“You can trust them.”
No, she couldn’t. Mitch was the only one she trusted. Didn’t he see that? “Don’t I have any say in this?”
“No. You don’t.”
She was about to protest, but something in Mitch’s eyes warned her to keep quiet, that by voicing her very strong opinion, she would only make matters worse.
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