Lethal in Love

by Michelle Somers

His chuckle shuddered against her breasts and her nipples tightened.

  ‘Where’d you learn to do that?’

  ‘Did I forget to tell you I’m a taekwondo black belt? You’re pretty much at my mercy, right now.’

  ‘Gotta love a detective who knows what she wants.’ His body relaxed and his eyes shone deep blue as they stared into hers. ‘I’m all yours.’

  Now she had free reign, where was she supposed to start?

  So many possibilities . . . Her fingers smoothed over the planes of his chest, but that wasn’t enough. She dropped her body to the side so her lips could follow the trail of her hands, tasting salt and something else that was intrinsically Seth. She moved her mouth lower still, until her eyes were level with his very obvious, very aroused flesh.

  Dare she?

  He’d given her so much pleasure, on more than one occasion. More than anything, she wanted to give, to show Seth that he mattered, that he was special. Maybe with her actions she could say more than with the words she struggled to find.

  Her fingertip skated upwards to the tip and she felt his sharp intake of breath. This time she did the same but with her tongue, and a growl escaped from deep in his chest. Salt and musk rolled across her taste buds, the seep of her own arousal soaking her thighs. He buried his hands in her hair, emboldening her to open her mouth and take him inside. He tensed and his breath hitched as she completely enveloped him.

  She drew back, running her lips along his length, and then took him in once more. He lifted his hips, needing her to accept more of him, and she did. She throbbed from wanting him, but more, from the pleasure of giving to a man who had already given her so much.

  She had no idea what she was doing, but with every groan and grunt, she had to be doing something right.

  When his breathing was fast and he fumbled at her shoulders, she let him pull her up, locking lips with his in a kiss that tugged at her heart, filling it like a balloon ready to soar through the heavens.

  She reached for the condom on his bedside table, and sat astride him, her hands shaking as she attacked the foil.

  Dark eyebrows hovered above eyes filled with passion as he watched her. Then he grinned, giving more cause for her heart to flip-flop and her fingers to fumble.

  ‘Need any help?’

  54

  Damned impossible packaging!

  Jayda’s fingers were all thumbs as she tried to ignore Seth’s scrutiny. The manufacturer preached safe sex. It was their main frigging selling point. Yet how many people tossed the idea of protection in the heat of passion when the foil wouldn’t rip? It didn’t help that her hands were shaking like crazy.

  She hadn’t trembled like this since their first time. Only the feeling now was more nerve-racking, more intense. It was no longer just about the case.

  She lodged her tongue between her teeth and willed the telltale nerves in her hands to still. ‘I’ll let you know.’

  With a sudden rip! the packet split open and a condom slid out. She stared at the little round disc in her hand.

  There ended the easy part of the process.

  She’d never done this before, but surely it was a matter of logistics. Much as a penis wasn’t a cucumber, the principles couldn’t be that different to old Miss Hamstead’s demonstration in high school sex-ed.

  She pinched the end of the latex, trying to still her hand as she rolled it up his length. His breath hitched, his eyes following her movements with a fire that made her burn with wanting. It wasn’t as easy as she remembered in twelfth grade, but then again, the sight of a cucumber hadn’t made her hot and horny like the image of Seth naked and wedged between her thighs did.

  As she reached his base, she squeezed.

  He groaned. ‘Done?’

  ‘Not even close.’ She grinned. ‘But at least you’re ready.’

  ‘Not even close.’

  No time for a comeback. Before one could form, he had her flat on her back and breathless. He scooched down her body and soon the clutch of the sheets was the only thing that prevented her from sliding onto the floor in a writhing heap.

  Where the strum of his fingers stirred her body to life, the lilt of his tongue shot liquid fire through her veins, every limb, every organ, her belly, her breasts and the folds deep between her thighs singing as he worked his magic.

  And when she thought she couldn’t take a moment more, he eased upwards, his eyes locked with hers as he entered her, each thrust driving her to need and want him more than she ever imagined she’d need or want a man.

  Sensation splintered outwards, infusing each and every cell in her body. She clung to him, wrapped her legs around tight, let herself drown in the feel of Seth filling her completely until all she knew was his flesh joined with hers, and the pulses that dragged him so deep into her that she could almost believe they were one.

  He kissed her soundly then left the bed. He disappeared for only a moment before returning to her side, holding her tightly as if he would never let her go, and for the first time in too long, Jayda felt a way beyond the hell of the past weeks.

  She would get through the nightmare, survive, with this man by her side.

  Seth tightened his arms around Jayda.

  Her expression was peaceful. He’d put it there.

  The slow roll of her breathing soothed, lulling him towards rest. He closed his eyes, the weight of the past day lifting as he allowed conscious thought to slip away. Random thoughts tumbled through his mind.

  His eyes shot open. He still hadn’t told her about the job. Should he wake her, share the news? They could celebrate, make it real, give it a meaning that only sharing it with Jayda could.

  Because gaining the position without her wouldn’t mean half as much.

  The realisation brought with it a strange sense of calm. There was no panic, no desire to escape. He edged closer, touched his lips to her hair, losing himself in the scent of fresh apples and their loving.

  He had time. She’d be there in the morning. And the morning after that. And if he had anything to do with it, every morning thereafter until he could no longer count.

  She’d never been soppy or the slightest bit maudlin.

  Yet as Jayda rolled away from Seth’s warmth and slipped into jeans and a shirt, she almost lost herself in that one, fatal backwards glance. Almost chucked her clothes on the floor and crawled back under the black-and-gold covers, unable to stall the regret that she was leaving when all she wanted to do was stay and curl into him.

  She didn’t have a scarf, instead she turned up her collar, her fingers running across the tender patch of skin on her neck. Memories of how it got there saw her body temperature hike as she paused for one more look.

  The sheet draped over the rise of his buttocks, providing an eyeful of bare, male skin. He lay sprawled on his stomach, one arm flung over the spot she’d just vacated, the other wedged under the pillow. Temptation incarnate.

  A lock of black draped over one eye and the black ink of his lashes brushed the olive of his skin. How had she not noticed those lashes before? Her best guess? Other attributes had stolen the limelight. Not least of all the broad musculature of his biceps, his shoulders, pecs she couldn’t see right now, but sure as hell her mind could. It seemed where Seth was concerned, her memory turned photographic.

  Time to go before she didn’t.

  She tiptoed across the cream carpet, taking in the cluttered surface of the dresser, marvelling again at how little the room resembled the remainder of what she’d seen of the rest of this place. The house belonging to someone other than Seth made sense. It also made sense that the areas he frequented most would appear more lived in, more like him. What she didn’t get was why he’d chosen this smaller, darker room over the master bedroom, which would surely have been more comfortable. Unless it was a condition of his house-sitting agreement.

  She touched the door to the frame but didn’t close it for fear of waking him. Treading softly through the living room, she collected her purse and keys a
nd made for the front door.

  One check through the security peephole showed a deserted doorstep. Still, it didn’t hurt to be careful. Turning the knob, her other hand moved to the gun at her hip. She wrapped her fingers around the familiar coldness, and braced the weapon in front of her body as she pulled the door towards her and peered outside. Still clear.

  The click of the door closing was louder than she’d have liked and all she could hope was that Seth remained asleep in his bedroom. Time was sparse.

  The soft soles of her shoes barely dented the idyll of the morning. A twig snapped in next door’s front yard, and her gun was already raised as a magpie stepped out onto the path. The black-and-white bird glared at her, then cawed and flapped its wings, taking flight to a large oak across the street.

  Luckily, the Beetle started first try and she eased it onto the road. It wasn’t long until the shop she’d noticed the day before loomed up on her right. It was early still, and there was barely a queue. Within minutes she was back behind the wheel, the engine humming.

  The smell of coffee and fresh pastries filled the car, but that wasn’t the reason for her smile. Anticipation had dragged it to her lips. Seth was always doing things for her—buying pastries, the right kind of coffee, drying her tears, being her rock. It was time she gave something back. She wanted to give something back.

  The car shuddered into the curb and she jiggled the key until it slid easily from the ignition.

  She reached for the door only to fall back into the seat. Her heart was racing. She flipped down the sun visor and stared into the mirror. The woman who stared back was barely recognisable. She looked . . . happy. Something she had no right to be. Bec was dead. A close friend wanted to kill her. She should be focused. Driven. And she was, but she was so much more.

  The man who put the flush in her cheeks, the hope in her eyes, was nothing like the man she’d wanted growing up, yet everything she needed right now. He was strong and gentle, funny and dependable, and honest.

  She was thinking about him too much. Wanting him too much. Every moment apart was spent in anticipation of seeing him again.

  She needed to take a step back. Several, in fact. She deserved good in her life. And right now, good meant Seth. The future was another story, one she was refusing permission to unfold. She couldn’t get too comfortable, too attached. Too complacent whilst there was a killer out there gunning for her.

  She frowned. She could be happy now. Just cautiously happy.

  She glanced at the dashboard. Nearly 8 am. Time she was back inside and on the case. There were calls to make, an appointment to keep with Anna Jones’s old landlord. And a man waiting who deserved coffee and pastries in bed.

  She grinned as she opened the door and grabbed the large paper bag and tray. There was a lightness in her step she’d never imagined could be put there by a man. The sky was the palest of blues, not a cloud in the sky. It was going to be a beautiful day.

  Her inner child almost skipped to the front door.

  No!

  Her toe caught on the top step. She stumbled, fell to her knees. Coffee and pastries spilled onto the path.

  No.

  A corner of her heart splintered.

  She pushed herself up and reached for her gun. Squinting through tears, she scanned her surroundings. Not that she expected to find him. He hurt and then left her to shatter—that was his MO. And this hurt was meant to cut in a way none of the others had.

  It came laced with the promise of more.

  Her eyes flew back to the bloodied mass on the welcome mat. She knew instantly what it was, and what it was meant to convey. What she didn’t know was how much further the bastard was willing to go to send his message and what she would find once she crossed the threshold.

  She skirted what remained of the battered body without stopping to check for life. Tumbles was dead.

  She dragged her gaze away. No cat could suffer what he had and survive. Pain sliced her chest as she thought of the man she’d left very much alive less than half an hour ago.

  Agnostic or not, she murmured a plea as she fumbled in her pocket for the spare key Seth had handed her yesterday. A courtesy she’d never extended to him. Not the time to think about that now.

  She unlocked the front door and braced herself for what waited on the other side.

  ‘Jayda! What the—’

  Seth lowered the phone from his ear and stared at the gun in her hand. All Jayda wanted to do was drop her weapon and hurl herself into his arms. Not the done thing when there could be a killer nearby.

  ‘He was here. The Night Terror.’

  His head jerked right then left. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘He killed Tumbles.’ Her eyes darted around the room as she reached back and locked the door. ‘I need you to stay behind me and call Chase while I clear each room.’ She passed him her mobile. ‘Speed-dial four.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait for backup?’

  She shook her head and raised her gun, moving towards the kitchen. Seth fell in behind her and she heard the beep, beep of the keypad as he made the call. Ten minutes later they were back in the living room, waiting for Chase. The house was clean. She doubted the Night Terror had moved past Seth’s front doorstep.

  Seth handed back her mobile. ‘Where is he? Tumbles.’

  ‘On the welcome mat.’

  He moved towards the door and she grabbed his arm. ‘Wait until Chase comes.’

  At first she thought he’d ignore her, then he nodded. ‘Why the cat?’

  She swallowed and met his gaze, still wanting to go to him but unsure how. It was as if the killer were standing beside her, mocking her, letting her know that every time she felt safe, every time she felt ready to move forwards, he would be there to cut and slash and drag her back down.

  ‘Because I love him. Because he wants to destroy everything that matters to me.’

  ‘If he wanted to do that with the cat, why wait until now?’

  She strode towards the front door, then spun on her heels and stalked back the way she’d come.

  ‘Killing Tumbles and dumping him at your door was a message. That he knows exactly how to hurt me. And that no matter where I go, he’ll find me.’

  She turned just as a car door slammed outside. Chase. She peered out the security peep hole as realisation curled around her heart. There was a third message, one she would keep to herself until she figured out what to do with it.

  That if she dared to love Seth, he’d be next.

  55

  Something was up.

  Seth busied himself at the buffet—repositioning the butt-ugly Egyptian vase, swiping at a speck or two of dust with his finger—when in reality all he wanted to do was crash the private party taking place only metres away.

  He looked over again as Chase shook his head. Jayda blinked, her jaw locked in a telltale sign that she was feeling the pressure. Even from across the room, he could tell that Chase had discounted the link between the cat and the killer. The man had to be blind. Either that, or something else was up.

  Did he believe by screening the truth he was protecting Jayda, or was his agenda more sinister? Either way, it wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look at her old partner. He locked the idea away in his mind for later. Jayda need never know.

  Forensics had already removed the cat and doormat. The surrounding bloodstain and its significance still remained—the killer wouldn’t let up until he destroyed the woman Seth loved.

  That meant Seth was locked in the killer’s radar, just as Tumbles had been. Not that it made a difference. He wasn’t going anywhere. And more than ever he was determined not to let Jayda out of his sight.

  She nodded. The other man took her into his arms and she appeared comfortable there. Seth’s gut churned. Again, he questioned their relationship. Was he a fool to believe she’d continue to want him over her partner? Chase and Jayda might not see eye-to-eye on this case, but that wasn’t a clincher when it came to love. They had a history together
. Didn’t opposites attract?

  Was Seth merely a filler until Jayda returned to her old life?

  The thought made his chest tighten until he wondered that he could still breathe.

  Over Chase’s shoulder, Jayda’s eyes opened and caught his. What he saw relaxed him, albeit marginally. It didn’t stop the feeling that something between them wasn’t as right as it had been when she’d fallen asleep in his arms mere hours earlier.

  The two parted. Chase nodded Seth’s way, then he and Jayda both headed for the door. He whispered in Jayda’s ear, causing her to shake her head and cast a glance towards Seth.

  Then he was gone.

  ‘What was that all about?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Her eyes seemed focused anywhere but on him. He worked at giving her the same glare she sent his way when she wanted him to come clean. She must have sensed it, because she sure as hell didn’t see it. With a sigh, she spoke as if to the front door. ‘Chase wanted me to stay with him.’

  The tightness returned.

  ‘And what did you say?’

  She turned to him then. ‘That I can look after myself. That I was as safe here as I would be anywhere. That he needs to catch the killer so I don’t have to look over my shoulder every damn waking moment!’

  ‘He doesn’t believe this is linked to the Night Terror.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘He didn’t say it quite like that . . . How did you know?’

  ‘I know you. That’s enough to get the gist of a conversation I wasn’t privy to.’ He hated that he sounded jealous, but dammit, he was. And he had every right to be after last night.

  She shook her head. ‘I was after information and had more chance of getting it without a reporter present.’

  ‘What’s the story with you and Chase?’

  ‘There is no story. We work together, we’re friends. That’s it.’

  ‘I sense more.’

  ‘On his side, perhaps. Not mine.’ Her eyes bored into his and he knew she was telling the truth. ‘Shouldn’t you be more interested in what we discussed than in our non-existent love affair?’