Book Read Free

Lethal in Love

Page 35

by Michelle Somers

She sighed, fingers pressing into his skull, pulling him in as her chest arched out and her head fell back. He took the invitation at face value and made a beeline for the other breast. He unsnapped her trousers, dragged the zipper down as he tugged at her nipple and drew a moan from her lips.

  His hand curved down her tummy and beneath the denim. Hot. The practical cotton of her panties was soaked through. He groaned, sliding his hand in further, dipping his finger in as far as the fabric barrier allowed. Her hips bucked and he pushed the fabric aside. This time his finger dove in deep, her flesh gripping tight, pulling him inside.

  ‘Seth.’

  It drove him crazy to hear her breathe his name that way. As if he were everything she’d ever wanted.

  But now he’d started, how the hell to stop? He’d promised her a shower. And for this, their second time, it had to be perfect.

  He pulled back. ‘You have way too many clothes on.’

  Colour rose on her cheeks. ‘You too.’ Her breath escaped in gasps, and as he reached for her jeans, she reached for his too.

  Somehow they managed it, through fumbling fingers, impatience and all. Then, naked, he led her to the bathroom. Once the water ran warm, they stepped under together and Seth reached for the shower gel, rubbing a generous portion quickly between his palms. ‘Can’t have a shower without a good lather.’

  ‘I’m partial to lather.’ Her pupils were so dilated, the black had almost completely swallowed the green.

  ‘Me, too.’ He started at her shoulders, small, circular strokes that slid out over her arms, down to her fingertips, then back up again, over and over until she trembled. Her breasts were next, supersensitive flesh thrusting greedily into his palms, begging for attention. With her hands braced against his hips, he squeezed and plumped, eliciting moans that said she wanted more, that she was ready whenever he was.

  He’d been ready the moment she began her teasing in the living room. And when they’d stepped beneath the spray, the stream spilling over her breasts and between her legs, he’d wondered how the hell he could last the shower long. He was rock hard, painfully so. But as her silken skin quivered beneath his touch, he found he wasn’t anywhere near ready to stop.

  Adding more soap, he followed the trail of water and suds over her breasts, branching out over her ribs to her hips, then trekking inward towards the juncture of her thighs. Her legs parted, inviting him in. He complied, revelling in her shuddering acceptance, pushing her until she quaked and throbbed, and with every stroke whimpered his name. Begged for him to continue, and more.

  Then he stopped.

  Jayda’s eyes shot open. ‘W–what?’

  Gentle hands framed her face, warm lips brushing hers with the sweetest of caresses. ‘I want to take you to bed, Jayda Thomasz.’

  Her body still trembled from being so close, yet so far. Now her heart trembled too. It was that look again. It encompassed her and made her believe in the impossible.

  He swept the water from her brow and she reached up to rest her hands over his. ‘I want that too.’

  Renewed heat flared in his eyes as he took her hand and led her from the shower stall.

  She floated through the next moments as if her feet had wings. Seth’s gaze never once left hers as they dried each other before moving to the bedroom. Crisp, cool sheets crinkled beneath her back as he lowered his body over hers. This time when he entered her, she was ready. The pain was less, the passion overwhelming.

  Her body bounded towards weightlessness, every nerve a firing, riotous wave of sensation before she shuddered into climax around his throbbing flesh.

  He held himself suspended above her, dipping once to swallow her gasping breaths into a kiss. Then he rolled onto his side, disappearing for mere seconds before returning, wrapping his arms around her, his warm, hard body spooning hers from behind.

  His fingers brushed her neck as he tucked her hair to the side and feathered hot kisses over her bare skin. Impossible as it seemed, her sex pulsed in hunger. She wriggled her bottom and felt the hard thrust of aroused muscle right where she wanted it. Again.

  She was beginning to need Seth Friedin too much. Half of her wanted it to be okay, wanted to trust him and lean on him, and yes, give in and follow the hint that was insistently nudging against her buttocks. The other half was scared shitless.

  If there was one thing she refused to do, it was scared.

  ‘I was in grade two when I discovered I was adopted.’ She pushed the words out in a rush so she couldn’t pull them back.

  The lips on her neck froze, and her heart froze with them.

  Oh, God! Was this the wrong time? Then again, was there a right time to open up and bare weakness? Letting people in had never come naturally. Yet, for some reason, two seconds ago it had felt right, until—

  ‘So young?’ The words may have been whispered, but they yelled acceptance.

  Her and her overreactions. Another tendency that went hand-in-hand with the emotion-rich red of her hair.

  Those heat-seeking lips continued and she let out a sigh as his arms tightened about her waist.

  ‘Smart-ass Lucy Turner thought it her duty to inform me that two blue-eyed parents couldn’t make a green-eyed child. I now know it isn’t true, but she was the smartest kid in the class, so I never considered back then that she could be wrong.’

  The images appeared as if it was only yesterday—her eight-year-old self storming into the kitchen, schoolbag on back, red hair in chaos, the hem of her uniform torn from climbing a tree to rescue McHenry’s old tabby.

  Her mother stood at the stove, her father at the bench, and they shared one of their looks before turning calmly to face her. She’d waited for them to shoot down Lucy ‘Troublemaker’ Turner’s accusations. It had never occurred to her that the dissimilarities between her and her family were anything more than a random spin of the genetic wheel.

  ‘My parents barely blinked when I confronted them. I guess they’d been waiting for a time to tell me, and that day was as good as any.’

  His hand fanned over her tummy as he whispered into her hair. ‘A tough way to find out.’

  ‘Crappy. But I never felt hurt or had a wild urge to discover more about my birth parents. Maybe it was because I always thought they were dead. I’m more inclined to believe that I felt so loved and wanted and happy that I couldn’t imagine any other life.’

  She drew in a deep breath. ‘I accepted it. Told Lucy to shove her theories into very awkward, uncomfortable places, and moved on. It seems funny to say, but being adopted just made sense. Unlike what’s happening now, which makes no damn sense at all.’

  Her heart pounded against her eardrums even as a sense of calm washed over her. Amazing how good it felt to talk about something she hadn’t talked about in forever.

  His lips fluttered over her ear, seeping warmth through her body. ‘At least you had a family who loved you.’

  ‘There is that.’ She found his hand and wrapped her fingers around tight. ‘Have you considered that rather than not wanting to talk to you, it could be that your parents didn’t know what to say?’

  The hand in hers tensed. ‘That’d be a great happy ending, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘You don’t think it’s a possibility?’

  ‘After twenty-nine years of staring at their turned backs, I doubt it.’

  ‘Their lack of interest doesn’t define you, Seth.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘What matters is how you view yourself.’

  He exhaled, and the weight of his pain tore at her insides. ‘All I’ve ever wanted was to make a difference.’

  ‘You do make a difference. To a lot of people.’ She swallowed. ‘To me.’

  The arms around her squeezed and he nuzzled into her hair, breathing in deep as if he wanted to drag the very essence of her inside.

  ‘Thank you.’

  She nodded, unable to find the words to thank him back. Just for being with her. For it no longer being about the story.

  So m
any thoughts rambled through her mind, each one clamouring for attention. It wasn’t the time or the place for contemplations over her future and where this would all lead. Complacence was a categorical no-no when there were so many other priorities vying for the top spot on her list.

  Closing her eyes, she pushed aside everything but the cocoon of hard muscle at her back and a manner of peace she hadn’t felt in long time.

  Then she slipped over the edge into deep, restful sleep.

  Hey, sleepyhead.

  She scrunched her eyelids and fought against the pull from dreams that were peaceful and rather enjoyable.

  Where was she before—

  You called and here I am.

  The whisper shivered across her skin before a warm mouth caught the lobe of her ear and sucked. Damn if he hadn’t found another of those killer erogenous zones. Her entire body was a bevy of them.

  His palm took a delicious ride across her waist and over her hips, heading on a collision course to the aching throb between her thighs. She opened her legs, moaning as his fingers feathered across flesh still tender from the night before.

  Regardless of the tenderness, she wanted more. Blood thrummed through her veins.

  ‘Seth.’

  I’m here.

  The warm tickle of breath on her neck hit a direct path to her tummy. Then he kissed, his lips caressing the shell of her ear, the tickles moving lower, her hips slowly bucking, searching for fulfilment. Him.

  His expert fingers found the spot almost immediately, their play gentle, unlike her reaction. Or her need. She wanted it hard, and she told him so, his sharp intake of breath indication enough that he wanted the same. That and the nudge of hard, male muscle as he thrust into her.

  Her nails dug into his back and she urged him on, unsure where the words were coming from, only happy that this was a dream because she’d never have the courage to say and do all of this if it was real.

  She’d heard talk of women seeing stars when they made love, always considered it a load of baloney. Now she knew the truth. He thrust again and she screamed his name, her body splintering to the heavens as the entire Milky Way galaxy exploded across her vision.

  Blissful heaviness engulfed her as she drifted to the sound of his breathing in her ear and the luxurious warmth of his body wrapped around hers.

  She sighed, the smell of pine and man filling her senses. Then sleep and dreams filled her mind again.

  ‘Hey, sleepyhead.’

  Jayda’s body jumped.

  Her hand jerked back, preventing coffee from flooding the laptop on her knees, the front of her top taking the brunt of the spill instead.

  Dumping her mug and computer onto the coffee table, she peeled her top away from her skin and looked at the deliverer of words direct from her dream. A dream she had a scary suspicion was more reality than she’d have liked.

  ‘Damn, Jayda! What is it about you and hot liquid burns?’

  The coffee was her second and she’d been nursing it the past fifteen minutes while hunting for any mention of Anna Jones’s kid. But Seth didn’t know that.

  ‘I’m fine. You just startled me.’

  He pulled her up and tugged at her tee. ‘This needs to come off.’

  She swatted his hands away. ‘Are you kidding?’

  ‘Do you know how many people suffer severe burns from hot beverages in Australia each year? It’s in the thousands.’

  ‘Most of whom would be kids pulling a cup down from the kitchen bench or table.’

  ‘That’s not the point. Do you really want to be another statistic?’

  ‘If this is your way of getting me naked again, it’s pretty weak.’

  ‘Hey, if I wanted you naked, all I’d need to do was this.’

  Before she could step away, his mouth was on her neck, making a direct course for her ear before delivering the same treatment to her lobe that he had last night.

  It wasn’t a dream. And neither was her reaction.

  Sliding her hands between them, she ignored the contraction of muscles beneath her palms, the desire to discard his black shirt and toy with the taut skin and smattering of fine hairs beneath.

  ‘I need to change.’ She pushed past him and almost sprinted for the bedroom.

  Get a grip, Thomasz! Don’t lose it now.

  Only it was too late for that. She’d already lost it. Had screamed for Seth to take her, to suck and lick and—oh God! Had she really begged him to do all that stuff?

  Her face burned as she discarded her top, not bothering to soak the stain. She had more pressing problems, like how to look Seth in the eyes again without combusting from embarrassment or melting like ice cream in the hot summer sun.

  She’d bared her soul, then her body, with little thought of the future.

  Just proved that her first instincts were right. Sex changed everything. And it contravened common sense. She hadn’t shown a bit of the stuff since Seth and lust for him had filled her brain.

  And the kicker? She liked it.

  The drawer’s brass handle dug into her palm. Damn, why shouldn’t she? For a woman who’d waited pretty much all of her life to feel what he made her feel, she had a helluva lot of catching up to do. And she wanted to do it with Seth.

  Her heart stuttered. It didn’t mean anything. She felt good when she was with him. Alive. Sexy. He was a constant in the past weeks’ craziness, the only one who was exactly who and what he professed to be.

  She sifted through her drawer and grabbed the third top that came to hand. One that hugged her in all the right places and deepened the green in her eyes.

  After last night’s reveal-all with her parents, the case had gained a direction which she intended to follow until it was done. Then the killer would be off the street and she’d be back in the job she loved.

  That would be the time to rein in towards perspective and sense.

  In the meantime, if Seth provided support peppered with the odd moment in which she forgot the hell of her life and found a slice of heaven, then so be it.

  When she returned to the living room, it was to find the man of her thoughts bent over her computer. He looked up. ‘You’ve been looking into Darren.’

  ‘He’s a suspect until proven innocent, like everyone else.’

  ‘Even Juz?’

  ‘If I uncover something suss about him, then yes.’

  That seemed to appease him. She wished she could feel the same calm detachment. But someone she considered a friend was killing identikits of her mother, had killed her sister and Eric, and had orchestrated Madden’s death. There was no doubt in her mind that at some stage in his game he intended to kill her.

  The only question was when.

  A deep breath tamped down the turmoil in her gut. Another pushed the thought further to the back of her mind.

  She moved in closer, ready to forget, if only for a moment. Her gaze trained on Seth’s as she tugged at the hem of her top. She’d chosen it because she knew she looked good in it. But while his expression agreed, the hitch of his breath as she dragged it over her head and dropped it to the floor said he preferred to see it there. And right now, so did she.

  Her hand reached for his waistband and she barely had to tug before his body was hard against the length of hers. There was no soft or gentle now, his lips were fierce and demanding, his hands moving to her back, pulling her in closer still. He stole her breath, along with every sane and rational thought, and it was wondrous.

  She dragged her lips away, her hands already working at the buttons of his shirt.

  ‘Tell me again what you planned on doing once you got me naked.’

  50

  Everything pointed to Darren.

  Even Juz—who liked most people—had disliked him at first sight. Plus, there were still things that didn’t add up, would never add up until she confronted him and demanded answers. Something she would do once she had more than circumspection to go on.

  Jayda turned the hot tap a fraction further and clos
ed her eyes as the warm spray coursed over her.

  The killer had to be computer savvy. Something Darren was. But that wasn’t enough.

  Then there was Garry. His father worked in the rare book room at Melbourne Museum. Again, the discovery wasn’t enough. It didn’t mean he had access to methyl cellulose glue or knew how to make his own paper. Still, it did warrant a closer look, something that so far had garnered little success.

  Every avenue she followed found her staring at a brick wall. The vault at Black Keys Security was rented under a bogus identity and paid for in cash. As secure as the storage facility was, there was no video footage. In fact, there never seemed to be video footage when the Night Terror struck.

  She rubbed shampoo into her hair, the scent of green apples filling the shower stall as she lathered.

  What she needed was concrete not conjecture, some cold, hard evidence to back up the layers of speculation. She refused to accuse a friend with less.

  Problem was, every passing hour propelled her closer towards disaster. Any day now, Will would discover her DNA was a partial match to Madden’s, indicating a familial link. When that happened, her investigation would be quashed and—even worse—she could become a person of interest in his death.

  The hot stream washed away the suds, not so the strain.

  Three days had passed since she’d discovered her true identity and laid herself bare and vulnerable before Seth. During that time he’d barely left her side, and they’d worked together tirelessly to find something that would lead them to an arrest. Her jaw clenched. Her squad to an arrest.

  Not that they were any closer either. Something she’d discovered when Chase and Georgie swung by to check up on her. Was it only yesterday? She’d lost all sense of time.

  They’d stayed for coffee, openly updating her on the case, or so she would have believed if she hadn’t known better. Not once did they mention the disparity between Madden’s sex and his DNA. And she hadn’t let on that she knew. Whatever scraps they were willing to share were better than no scraps at all.

  None of the inmates had obvious links to Night Terror victims, past or present, or any connection to Madden past a shared address. Yet questions still remained around how he would have obtained a mop. He must have had help.

 

‹ Prev