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Into the Dark (The Cincinnati Series Book 5) (Cincinnati 5)

Page 36

by Karen Rose


  Next time. His cock pulsed in his pants and his hips thrust forward, all on their own. ‘Dani.’ It was the only word he could summon, but it must have been enough, because she smiled at him.

  ‘Diesel.’ Her fingers trailed over the tats that ran down his sides, over his obliques, then dipped lower, toying with the button on his trousers. ‘How far down does the ink go?’

  ‘Find out,’ he growled, and she smiled again.

  ‘Oh, I plan to.’ Eyes on his, she popped the button and deliberately slid his zipper down. ‘Still good?’

  He swallowed hard, wondering at what point she’d gotten the upper hand. Then realized she’d always had it, and he was totally okay with that. ‘Yes,’ he hissed, because her hand had slid under his briefs, her fingers closing around him.

  Her gaze dropped to her hand, then shot back up to his face, stunned desire apparent. ‘Oh my God. Diesel. I . . .’ Her words trailed away as she returned her focus to her hand, sliding it up and down while her other hand tugged at his trousers and briefs, yanking them down.

  His head fell back as she worked him, his grunts and moans the only sounds in the room. They weren’t the prettiest sounds, but he’d lost the power of speech.

  Until something warm and a little rough stroked over him and his head snapped forward. She was bowed over him, her tongue licking daintily. But her eyes were on his again. She stuck her tongue out for him to see.

  ‘No cuts. But no more than this without protection.’

  He wanted to protest, because he wanted to feel her mouth surround him, hot and wet, her lips forming a tight seal as she sucked, because he was almost there. He wanted to remind her of the science – that her levels were undetectable and that he was on Truvada, the combination reducing any risk to nearly none.

  But nearly wasn’t going to be enough for her. Not right now, at least.

  He took a step back, hands fisted at his sides, needing a moment to breathe. To steel himself against begging for more of her mouth on his dick. To control himself, because he was one tiny stroke from coming and he wanted this to last longer.

  After a few deep breaths, he realized that he was completely naked while she still wore all her clothes. That he could change.

  He gripped her hands in one of his, gently moving them behind her back. ‘Hands off for a minute or two,’ he said gruffly. ‘You make me lose my mind.’

  A slow smile spread from her lips to her eyes. ‘Thank you.’

  He had to chuckle at her expression of sheer satisfaction. ‘You’re welcome.’ He took the hem of her sweater and gave it a caress. It was almost as soft as she was. And the color matched her blue eye perfectly. ‘I like this.’

  Her smile turned shy. ‘I picked it out this morning hoping you would.’

  ‘I’ll like it better off.’ Gently he pulled the sweater over her head, intending to place it on his dresser, but then he saw the bra she wore and was speechless once again. The sweater ended up on the floor, somewhere near his shirt.

  She was beautiful. He’d known she’d be, but . . . God. The bra was a frothy scrap of lace that cupped her breasts lovingly while actually managing to cover very little. One good yank and he could tear it to shreds. And suddenly that was exactly what he wanted to do.

  ‘Was that expensive?’ he found himself asking.

  ‘Not really, wh—’

  He didn’t let her finish her question. He took the fabric in his hand and pulled it apart, growling at the sound of ripping lace. The bra lay in tatters at her sides, held onto her shoulders by the straps.

  Leaving her perfect breasts bare. He stared, only vaguely aware of her shocked gasp. Her skin was the same dusky bronze all over, answering a question he’d wondered about since first laying eyes on her.

  ‘That shouldn’t have been so hot,’ she murmured. ‘But it was.’

  ‘You’re beautiful.’

  Her hands remained behind her back, but her gaze raked him up and down, muddying his brain as much as a physical touch. ‘Hurry, Diesel.’

  The words spurred him into motion. Pushing her to her back, he fumbled with the snap on her jeans. She’d settled her hands at her sides, but now took over the snaps and zipper.

  ‘If you tear my jeans, I won’t have anything to wear home.’

  ‘That’s okay with me,’ he said, then pulled the denim down her legs, leaving her in only her panties. They matched the bra that he’d ruined. Lacy and covering almost nothing. He drew a breath before slowly tugging the lace down her legs, exposing pubic hair, neatly trimmed. The panties ended up on the floor.

  Leaving her naked. Bronze skin and beautiful curves.

  This is it. She’s here. Naked in my bed. And watching me. With eyes that promised more than her words had. He wondered if she knew.

  And then he didn’t care, because she let one knee fall to the side, opening herself to him. She was already wet. So wet he could see her glistening.

  He wasn’t sure what to touch first. ‘I want to taste you.’

  Her eyes flickered, doubt replacing some of her gorgeous arousal. Because HIV could be transmitted through vaginal secretion. Dammit. Damn me.

  Needing to get them back to where they’d been, he backtracked. ‘But I won’t. Not now. Maybe in the future. But know that I want to. You smell . . .’ Kneeling between her legs, he leaned down and drew a deep breath, filling his head with her intoxicating scent. ‘So damn sweet.’

  He placed a chaste kiss on her abdomen, then set his fists on either side of her shoulders, lowering himself slowly until he could kiss her softly. ‘You’re more beautiful than I dreamed. And I dreamed, Dani. A lot.’ He kissed her again, deepening the kiss until she was moving beneath him, her hips lifting in a rhythm that beckoned him to hurry.

  Blindly he reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom. Pushing himself to his knees, he rolled it over his cock while she silently watched, her mouth fallen open, her breaths coming in short pants.

  ‘Now?’ he asked.

  ‘Please.’ She licked her lips. ‘Please, Diesel.’

  He hesitated. He was not a small man. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘Do I need to draw you a diagram? Send you an engraved invitation? I want you, dammit.’ She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down onto her, their faces a hair’s breadth apart. ‘I want this. And I like it rough, so do not treat me like spun glass or I swear to God I will take over.’

  She was completely serious. And it was sexy as hell.

  He drew back enough to see between them, wanting to remember the moment when he filled her for the first time.

  He pushed into her slowly. Wanting this closeness – this feeling – to last forever. Her whimper had his gaze jerking up to hers.

  But it wasn’t pain he saw. It was impatience. She wound her legs around his hips and thrust up, forcing him in the rest of the way. He let out a sharp bark of surprise, before groaning, because she was so tight, gripping him so hard that he nearly came then and there.

  She gasped, her eyes closing, a satisfied cat-in-cream smile curving her lips. ‘You feel so good,’ she whispered. ‘So good.’

  He’d lost his words again, so he began to move, slowly. Methodically. Committing every moment to memory. She met him thrust for thrust, her eyes opening to lock with his.

  This was more than sex. He knew it as clearly as he knew his own name. It was just . . . more.

  But too soon the slow pace was no longer enough. He sped up, increasing the strength of his thrusts. Her eyes were wide now. Wide and wild.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.’

  ‘I won’t,’ he promised, although he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. His thrusts became frantic, determined that she’d come with him. ‘Now, Dani. Let me see you. Come for me now.’

  Her back arc
hed, exposing the long line of her throat. He kissed it, then found his mouth opening over the curve of her shoulder. He wanted to bite, but he backed away with a groan, his orgasm hitting him like a high-speed train. His vision grew dark and his body gave a few last frantic thrusts as he came harder and longer than he ever had before.

  She stroked him through it, her hands on his back, her body clenching around him. Her voice whispering sweet things that didn’t penetrate the fog in his brain.

  He fell forward, catching himself on his forearms so that he didn’t crush her.

  ‘Mmm,’ she hummed. ‘You are a beautiful man, Diesel Kennedy. And when you come, you’re . . . magnificent. Yeah, that’s a good word. Magnificent.’

  She was, too, he thought, but his mouth wasn’t working.

  Her hands slid up his back, cupping his head, her fingers working magic on the base of his skull, which was pounding almost painfully.

  ‘Breathe, Diesel,’ she whispered, and he realized he hadn’t been.

  He sucked in a lungful of air and let it out. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his face buried against her neck.

  ‘I am so much better than all right,’ she said with a smile he could hear. ‘I wondered how it would be with you. I wasn’t nearly creative enough.’

  He laughed quietly. ‘Same.’ He lifted his head. ‘I need you,’ he confessed.

  To his relief, her smile didn’t falter. ‘I need you, too.’

  He hung there, watching every blink of her eyes, every flicker in their mismatched depths. But he saw truth. She was beautifully sated. I did that. And she needs me. She didn’t yet feel the same love that he felt. Not yet. But it could be. That was enough.

  ‘I need to move,’ he finally said. ‘Need to deal with the condom.’

  ‘I know. I wish you didn’t. I wish you could stay inside me forever.’

  ‘Well, I can visit again,’ he said playfully.

  She grinned. ‘I know. It’s the only reason I’m letting you go.’

  ‘The others will know,’ he said, abruptly worried that this would bother her. ‘I’m not going to be able to hide my smile.’

  She shrugged. ‘Let them know. I’m proud that you’re mine, Diesel Kennedy. Proud that I finally got over myself and let you love me.’

  His eyes widened. ‘I never said—’

  She smirked. ‘You didn’t need to.’ Her smirk softened to a smile. ‘It’s in everything you do. Every word you say. Every way you look at me.’ She stroked her fingers over his cheek. ‘Give me time. I’ll get there, too. I promise.’

  He swallowed hard. More than good enough. He pulled out of her reluctantly, watching her wince. ‘You’re not okay.’

  ‘You’re . . . proportionately sized.’ She winked at him. She seemed lighter. Freer. Younger. At peace. ‘Have I thanked you for that yet?’

  Diesel felt his cheeks heat. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you.’

  She rolled her eyes, her own cheeks growing rosy. ‘I’m fine. I loved it, okay?’

  He could see that she meant what she’d said. ‘Okay. I’ll be right back.’

  She smiled at him serenely. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  Monday, 18 March, 1.50 A.M.

  I should have made sure that Detective Stone was dead. Cade drummed his fingers on his steering wheel as he sat a few houses away from Dani Novak’s, which still seemed to be bustling with activity. All the SUVs that had been there when he’d left to follow the Escalade were still there, plus another SUV had arrived in the fifteen minutes that he’d been sitting here watching. He had no problem identifying the man who’d used his own key to open the front door, without even running his plates. The bright white hair and leather trench coat were Special Agent Deacon Novak’s trademarks, according to the press. Dani’s brother had stopped by to visit. How sweet. Not.

  How utterly fucking annoying, because the house was still lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree. The lower floor anyway. Every light was on, including the floodlights, which wouldn’t go off for another minute or two. He’d been timing them as people had come and gone, measuring how close he could get to the house before the lights were triggered.

  But the upstairs was dark. Michael Rowland was asleep in one of those rooms.

  Just waiting to identify me in a line-up.

  I should just drive away. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave the eyewitness alive. He’d never left an eyewitness alive. Except his old man, and who was he gonna tell? And even if the bastard found a way to accuse him, who’d believe him?

  Cade had been the model son, visiting every damn week. Every nurse in that place would vouch for him, no question.

  Even the detective tonight hadn’t seen his face, and he’d left no evidence behind except for the slugs in the guy’s body, and Cade had tossed the gun into a creek just before he’d gotten back on the main road. He’d stopped a few blocks later to get some food, changing the plates on his SUV just in case he’d been captured on a camera. He currently sported plates he’d found in the old pedo’s garage when he’d first taken possession of his house.

  Cade had looked the plates up online and found they belonged to a man who’d been reported missing ten years before but had never been found. He wondered if the old pedo had killed the guy too, but he’d never found any evidence in the house. Even in the cell in the basement. Or the airtight room.

  For all Cade knew, the man could be buried in the backyard, which had kind of creeped him out if he was being honest. But that didn’t matter anymore. Once he’d eliminated Michael Rowland, Cade was leaving town and driving north.

  There had to be ways into Canada that avoided border control. He’d figure that out once he got away. He could even use his real name. No one was looking for Cade Kaiser, only Scott King.

  With a grunt of discomfort, Cade settled behind the wheel of his car, hoping all the people in Dani Novak’s house would just leave.

  And if they never did?

  He scowled to himself. He’d still have to force Michael out into the open, so his plan to set the house on fire was still the best option. But with so many people pouring out of the house, it might be harder to get Michael in his sights without shooting anyone near him. More people than just Michael would die.

  He wasn’t going to worry about that. If they’d fucking leave, they’d all be fine. It’s their own fault they’re in danger. Plus, taking out a few more people would cause enough of a distraction that he could get away without being noticed. And if Deacon Novak was one of the casualties, all the better.

  Novak was investigating him. The man was a living legend in this town. If Cade could take him out of the equation . . . Yeah, the cops would redouble their efforts to find him – or Scott King, anyway. But Special Agent Novak’s death would throw them into disarray for just enough time for him to get over the border.

  It was something to consider. But first, he had to start the fire. He thought about the Molotov cocktails in the box on the passenger-side floorboard. He’d need to get close enough to the house to break the window and throw them in. Easier if the house was quiet and dark.

  He idly wondered if Amazon delivered flamethrowers, then snorted to himself.

  I really need to sleep. Maybe that would be best. Maybe he’d think more clearly after a few hours’ rest. And maybe in that time they’ll move Michael to a real safe house and I won’t be able to find him.

  No, he needed to stay awake, alert, and wait for the ‘platoon’ inside to go the fuck home. Then, as if in answer to his command, the door opened.

  Cade sat up straighter. Were the assholes finally leaving? He didn’t expect everyone to go, just enough people that he’d be able to slip in and out unseen.

  But . . . no. Fucking hell. He slumped, cursing his frustration. It was the other teenager, the one who’d been walking the dogs. He was accompanied
by the same two men as before, each of them taking a couple of leashes, but this time they walked in a tight formation, as if they expected to see something.

  Or someone. Fuck.

  Cade sank down in his seat, out of sight. They didn’t know he was here. If they did, he’d be surrounded by police cruisers so fast he wouldn’t be able to blink.

  Who was the kid? I should have asked that question a long time ago. Kids meant vulnerabilities. Especially a kid who was important to Dani Novak.

  Still slouched in his seat, he put his earphones on and pointed his mike at the group. But they were quiet. Strangely quiet.

  Yeah, it was the middle of the night, but Cade had expected to hear some murmured conversation. Something. Yet there was nothing. Only the panting of seven fucking dogs.

  Then one of them murmured, ‘Far enough. They’ve all peed. Let’s go back.’

  Cade scrunched his body, making sure he was not visible at all. He heard the door slam closed, but he didn’t relax. He half expected to see a face staring at him through one of the SUV’s windows, that the slammed door was a ruse to make him think he was alone again in the darkness.

  But that didn’t happen. Nothing happened. He strained to hear the conversations inside the house, but he was too far away, dammit.

  Pulling himself upright in the seat, he did a quick Google search on Dani Novak. Her picture popped up – her white streaks stark against the black of her hair. He expanded the search to include her family, and blinked at the results.

  Of course there were articles on her brother, Deacon, but she had a second brother. Greg. Who’d been kidnapped along with Dani a few years ago.

  Cade enlarged the photo so that he could study the young man’s face. Yeah, that was the kid he’d seen walking the dogs. He’d been wearing a ball cap, so Cade hadn’t noticed that the boy had white hair, too. And he was deaf.

 

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