It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him about his ex-girlfriends. See if he’ll open up to me about the one in Australia.
But I chicken out. Because if I ask Jack questions, then he will be at liberty to ask me. And I don’t want to answer anything about my past.
“So, you have a thing for library sex, huh?” I grin up at him.
He smirks. “I’m a writer. Sex among the greats is like a wet dream for me.”
I laugh. “Ever done it in a library before?” I ask. It’s a stupid question to ask because I’ve literally just broken my own don’t ask questions rule. God, I’m dumb.
I guess my need to know if I’ll be the first to have sex with him in a library or if I’m just one of many library fucks that he’s partaken in overruled any good sense I had.
Jack’s fingers move to the band holding my hair in a braid. He pulls it out, letting my hair fall down my back and around my shoulders. He fingers a lock of it. “First time. You?”
I won’t even try to deny how much it thrills me, knowing this is a first for him too.
“Never.”
“Good. Now, let’s lose our library virginities.” His lips crash down onto mine.
His tongue insanely seeks entry. I part my lips on a breath, letting our tongues tangle together.
He tastes like the sweet remnants of coffee and the gum he’s been chewing on and off throughout the day.
His fingers thread through my hair. My hands grip his waist as we devour one another’s mouths.
I’m moving backward.
Jack is guiding me toward the table he has spent the day writing at.
But I have other ideas.
Pressing my hand to his chest, I break the kiss.
I take a step back away from him. “Stay,” is my softly commanded order.
My trembling fingers go to the buttons on my shirt.
I slowly start to unbutton it.
Jack watches me with dark, hooded eyes.
My eyes skim down his body. His erection is visible and straining against his jeans.
It gives me a boost of confidence that any girl needs in order to do a striptease in front of a man. Her man.
Because that is what Jack is.
My man … the guy I’m dating … sleeping with … although we won’t be doing any sleeping anytime soon.
I reach the last button, the fabric parting, and slip the shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, leaving me in my tank and bra.
Kicking a shoe off, I take another step backward.
Jack stays standing where he is, watching my every move. I see his hands fisting at his sides, like it is taking everything in him not to come to me.
I’m moving, shedding clothes as I go until I reach my destination. The first row of bookshelves.
When my back presses up against the books, I’m left in only my panties and tank top.
Jack is still fully clothed.
I hook my fingers into the band of my panties and shimmy them down my hips until they hit the floor.
I wish I could remove my top, finish the whole striptease for him, but I can’t. I’m not ready. I might not ever be ready.
Biting my lip, I look up at Jack through my lashes.
He looks like he is physically restraining himself to stay where he is.
Grinning, I lift my index finger and gesture for him to come to me.
Only I don’t expect him to move so fast.
He is on me in seconds.
His mouth back on mine.
He nips my bottom lip with his teeth. “I’ve waited for you all fucking day, Audrey. No more waiting. I’m fucking you now.” His words are sexy, hot, and everything in between, and they turn me on so much.
“Yes,” I gasp. The word echoes around the large room.
Jack’s mouth moves down my neck, kissing and biting.
My hands race to unfasten his jeans.
His go between my legs. He pushes a finger inside me.
“God, Jack,” I moan, my head thudding back against the books.
He growls this sexy-as-hell sound.
His T-shirt comes off.
I somehow manage to finish getting his jeans undone and push them down over his ass, taking his boxers with them. Neither of us bothers to remove them fully.
He grabs a condom from the front pocket of his jeans, and he rolls it on with deft hands.
How he is this steady right now, I will never know.
I’m a shaking, writhing mess.
Jack and I have never had sex this quickly before. He usually likes to have foreplay. Lots of it. But then we have never had sex anywhere but in my apartment.
Right now, he seems desperate to be inside me, and I am all for it.
His hand yanks down the top of my tank, and his mouth covers my nipple, sucking and biting.
My hands go instantly to his head, gripping the soft strands of his hair.
His lips make a path up my chest, back to my mouth, kissing me once.
Then, he rests his forehead to mine. Our noses aligned.
My chest is heaving. My breaths unsteady. About as unsteady as my trembling body. I’m shaking with desire and need.
My eyes blink open and stare into Jack’s.
And it’s in that moment, when our eyes lock, that the connection between us explodes into something otherworldly. Wild and untamed. Like nothing I have known before.
His hand grips my thigh. He lifts it around his hip.
Then, he thrusts up inside me, his eyes not leaving mine.
I expect him to fuck me, but he doesn’t.
He kisses me. Gently. Almost reverently. A total contrast to the way his hard cock is inside me, ready to fuck me fast and hard against this bookcase.
“I’m crazy about you, Audrey.” His words are a loud whisper in the silence of this large room.
My heart fills to the point of bursting.
“I’m crazy about you too,” I tell him.
“Just … no matter what happens between you and me … know that I will always want you. Always.”
My heart thuds hard against my rib cage.
He sounds so serious. It worries me but also makes me feel the need to soothe him.
I cup his face in my hands. “Only good things happen between us, Jack,” I tell him right before I press my mouth to his, kissing him.
I coax his lips to part with mine.
It doesn’t take long before he’s back with me and controlling our kiss. His mouth devouring mine, tongue plundering. Holding me exactly where he wants me.
The desire that Jack has for me, it’s as addictive as he tastes.
“Fuck me, Jack,” I whisper against his mouth.
And he does. He fucks me right there against the bookcase. Arms above my head, my wrists bound by his hand, one leg hooked around his hip, his cock deep inside me.
And my heart in his hands.
I wake with a start. My eyes flash open. I bolt upright. Heart thumping in my chest.
There’s someone in the room. A shadow in the corner.
Parting my lips to scream, I blink.
And it’s gone.
No one is there.
My eyes scan around the room.
I press my hand to my chest, my heart beating wildly.
It must have been the remnants of a dream. A nightmare.
It’s not the first time this has happened to me. Thinking there’s someone there. Seeing the shadow of a person, haunting me.
I guess it’s not surprising after everything I’ve been through.
My eyes move to Jack lying beside me. Asleep on his stomach. Arms stretched up above his head. His face turned toward me.
He looks beautiful. The shadows lining his face. The glow of the light from the hall framing it.
I’m tempted to touch him. But I don’t want to wake him. He looks so peaceful.
Checking the time on my cell, I see that it’s only ten thirty.
We came to bed early. We started watching a
movie on Netflix in bed, using Jack’s laptop, but got distracted by each other.
We must have fallen asleep after screwing each other senseless.
Getting off the bed, I search for my discarded pajama shorts on the floor.
Locating them, I pull them on. Taking my phone with me, I quietly make my way into the living room, heading for the kitchen to get a drink of water.
Eleven is asleep on the sofa. She lifts her head as I pass and then lays it straight back down.
She spends a lot of time over here now. As does Jack.
I like them both here.
I know I don’t deserve the happiness that I have right now, but I’m reluctant to let it go.
The thought of losing Jack fills me with a hollowness that I can’t even contemplate.
I get a glass from the cupboard and pour myself a water from the purifier in the fridge, bringing it over to the sofa with me. I take a seat next to Eleven, tucking my legs underneath me. I stroke her soft fur.
She starts to purr, snuggling closer to me.
It makes me smile.
Tapping my screen, bringing it to life, I see that I have some notifications. They’re from local news sites.
With Detectives Sparks and Peters not willing to tell us anything about Mike’s death, the only resource left to me is the press.
In the days following the discovery of Mike’s body, I have learned that he was found in the closet of Sarah’s apartment, his body hidden behind some luggage stored in there. It had been missed in the first search of Sarah’s apartment when her body was first discovered. A screwup on the part of the police department.
They initially found two blood types at the crime scene. Knowing one was Mike’s, they first thought he was the killer and that he’d most likely cut himself in the attack on Sarah.
But he hadn’t.
Mike had been stabbed to death. Thirty stab wounds found on his stomach, chest, and hands. The press said they were defensive wounds on his hands. They said the knife pierced his heart, which was the killing blow.
A violent murder.
In contrast, Sarah had been tortured.
Knife wounds were found all over her body.
She had been cut close to a hundred times.
Then, finally, her throat was slit.
She hadn’t been stabbed like Mike.
The news said it was likely that Mike had interrupted the killer, and that was why his wounds were in such stark contrast to Sarah’s.
Mike wasn’t her killer.
And she was murdered in a very similar way to the other recent murders.
Am I afraid?
Yes.
All of the murders are comparable to the murders that Tobias committed in Chicago.
I’m trying not to freak out. Link them together. Let my mind believe that there is a copycat here. But it’s really hard not to think that way.
The only thing keeping me sane at the moment is Jack.
Not that he knows the depths of my thoughts. He knows I have an interest in what happened to Mike and Sarah because I worked with Mike. But Jack doesn’t know my thoughts on the other murders.
Because if he did, then I would have to tell him about my past.
And that is the last thing I want.
My cell vibrates in my hand, startling me.
A look at the screen tells me it’s Cole. It’s not unusual for him to call me late. He’s a night owl.
It’s been a little over a week since I last spoke to him now that I think about it.
He’s not going to be happy with me. I’m supposed to call once a week.
It’s just that I have been distracted by the man currently sleeping in my bed.
Not that I’ll be sharing that nugget of information with Cole.
He won’t be keen on me dating someone that he hasn’t had the opportunity to meet and vet.
Having an overprotective brother can be a pain at times. But I understand why he is the way he is.
Smiling, I apprehensively answer the call, putting the phone to my ear.
“Hey,” I say softly.
“So, you are alive then?” He sounds like he’s teasing, but he knows better than to say things like that to me, meaning he’s pissed but disguising it.
“I’m sorry. I should have called.”
“Yes, you should have. What’s been keeping you so busy?”
I can’t tell him that one of my coworkers was murdered alongside his girlfriend. Cole would lose his mind and order me home straightaway.
Not that I would go.
I can’t leave Jack.
I know that deep inside my heart. The heart that Jack has reawakened within me.
But I also don’t want to upset my brother. So, the best thing to do is to tell him nothing.
“Work. One of the guys who worked there … he quit. So, we’re down an employee. And my boss has been out sick for a few days as well, so I’ve been running the place in her absence. Early mornings, late evenings.”
“You shouldn’t let them overwork you, Audrey.”
“I’m not. I’m just helping out. My boss is a nice lady. She would never take advantage.”
The line goes silent. I hate when Cole goes quiet on me.
“I made a new friend,” I tell him.
“Oh?” I can hear the interest in his voice. “And what is this new friend called?”
“Gary.”
Another pause. I’m fighting a smile. Not that he can see it right now.
But somehow, my brother has the ability to see and know most things about me.
“A man?”
“Uh-huh.” I can no longer fight the grin, and it spreads over my whole face.
“Are you dating him?”
“You could say that.”
Jack and I have been walking Gary and Pork Chop every lunchtime this week. I have been busy with work, but I have made time to walk those guys at lunch. I love walking them with Jack. It makes me happy.
Jack makes me happy.
“I spend my lunch hour with him.”
“Audrey—”
“He’s about four years old,” I cut him off, sniggering quietly to myself. “Has gray-and-white fur …”
“A fucking dog.” Cole laughs, and the sound puts joy into my heart.
I don’t hear Cole laugh much anymore.
“Yes. He’s a rescue dog. He lives at the rescue center near the library. I’ve started walking him on my lunch hour. He’s so sweet. You would love him.”
“If you let me come to you, then I would be able to meet him.”
I sigh. “Cole …”
“I know; I know. I’ll stop talking.”
“No, don’t ever stop talking to me. Please.” I can feel this odd sense of panic quickly rising up in my chest. I press the heel of my hand to my sternum, trying to stem the fear.
“That’s not what I meant, Audrey, and you know that. I will never leave you. Never.”
I exhale. “I know.” The panic starts to abate in my chest at the forcefulness of his words.
Of course Cole would never leave me. What was I thinking?
But I did leave him. He has always been there for me, and I just walked away from him.
I’m a terrible person and sister.
I’m selfish.
Even more so because I don’t know when I’m going back home. Or if I ever will.
“You should get yourself to bed,” Cole says softly in my ear. “You need your sleep.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” I yawn.
He knows me so well.
There’s another pause and then, “I love you, Audrey.”
I smile. There’s a tinge of sadness that I hope he doesn’t hear when I say, “I love you too, Cole.”
I hang up the call. Holding the phone in my hand, I stare down at the dark screen.
“Who were you on the phone with?”
My head whips up to see a shirtless Jack standing in the doorway. He’s wearing just his sleep pants. His
hair is all mussed up. He looks adorable.
“My brother,” I answer without thinking, caught off guard by the sight of him.
I lower my cell phone to the sofa, putting it on the arm.
Jack comes over and sits by me. Eleven is now squished between us. She doesn’t seem pleased by this at all and jumps down from the sofa, wandering into the direction of my bedroom.
“You have a brother?” Jack says quietly beside me.
I bring my eyes to him and nod.
There’s a flash of something in his eyes that I can’t quite decipher and a little line between his brows.
I know that happens when he’s thinking intently about something. Which is why I ask, “You’re frowning. Why?”
“I’m not.”
I press my finger against the little crease, rubbing it out.
“That’s just called old age.”
I laugh. “You are older than me, so it makes sense you’d wrinkle first.”
He rests his head back against the sofa, eyes still on me. “Does it bother you that I’m older?”
I shake my head. “Does it bother you?”
“No.” He’s still watching me.
I know there’s more he wants to say, and the anticipation jangles my nerves.
“So, you have a brother …”
And there it is.
Jack lets the words hang in the air.
“Yes.”
“Does he live close by?”
“No.”
He nods in response to my answer. “Any other siblings?”
“No. Why all the questions?” My voice is a little sharper than I intended. But I don’t want to have this conversation about my brother. Because it will lead to my adoptive parents and their deaths, possibly even my biological parents, and I really don’t want to talk about any of them right now. I don’t want to talk with Jack about my past, period.
“Just wondering if I need to look out for more than one brother who will want to kick my ass for screwing his sister.” His eyes are smiling, but the lines around his mouth are tight.
I’ve upset him with my harsh tone. I hate that I have.
I don’t like that I’m so messed up. I wish I were different for him.
Jack and I are in this pseudo relationship, where neither of us really knows the other.
All I know about Jack is that he was in the military, he’s an author, and he fucks like a god.
Dead Pretty Page 17