“Yes. Here and now.” She leaned back onto her elbows displaying herself to the fullest advantage.
He felt himself grow harder if that was at all possible. He reached down and popped the button on his black slacks, and then slowly tugged the zipper down. He kept his eyes on hers the entire time. It took a few more tugs to unzip the strained material, but finally, his fly was open. He ran his hand over his crotch and gyrated his hips. Elsa smiled.
“Turn around. Let me see that ass.” She growled her words, and the vibrations of her voice made his gut clench. He did as bid. “Reach your hands around and grab your ass. Give it a good squeeze.”
Lukas’s lips tugged at the corners, but he controlled the smile that threatened to burst forth on his face. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder at her, sending her a smoldering look before reaching back and cupping his behind. He squeezed and released twice.
“Take off your shirt, darling.”
He unbuttoned the cuffs, and then each button down the front of the dark green dress shirt. When all buttons were released, he slipped it off one shoulder, and then the other, before letting it fall to the floor. His bare back greeted her gaze showing off the muscles and the tribal tattoo he got on an art buying trip to Cairo that extended from his chest partially over his left shoulder.
“Nice. Now drop those trousers.”
Lukas could tell she was enjoying herself back there. He could hear it in her voice. He slipped his thumbs under the seam of both the pants and his underwear, and shimmied them down, flexing the muscles in his arms, and tightening his buttocks as he went. She wanted a show, he’d give her one. He heard the hitch in her breathing and smiled to himself. He knew then his effort was paying off and was mentally congratulating himself when he snuck a look back at her and froze. His own breathing stopped.
Elsa was now completely naked and laying on the bed with her legs spread wide. She was fingering herself while watching him. Her green eyes were barely open, appearing sleepy, and the motion of her delicate hand working herself as slender fingers disappeared between her wet folds made his heart skip a beat. The exquisite pain searing through his cock told him if he grew any harder, he’d burst.
“Elsa!” His husky voice rasped out her name.
She lifted her free hand and beckoned him with the crook of her finger. He didn’t need any more prompting. Lukas kicked off his pants, and in one predatory motion, positioned himself between her splayed knees. He moved her hand out of the way, angled himself, and pushed deep inside. Elsa wrapped her slender legs around his waist as he pumped, sliding in and out in sure, powerful strokes.
“Yes!” She moaned, throwing back her head.
Lukas leaned in and licked her neck up to her delicate ear where he nipped the soft lobe.
“Bite my neck,” she urged.
He did, applying just enough pressure to excite her further.
Elsa lifted her hips, meeting each thrust with vigor. She loved how he filled her up so completely. She delighted in the raw, animal sexuality they shared. He swiveled, sending hot, tight sensations throughout her body, and she could feel herself moving closer to climax.
“Fuck me hard, Lukas!” She turned her head to stare into his eyes. Strain showed on his handsome face as he kicked his cock into overdrive. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bulged, and his skin glistened with the effort he was putting in to please her. The intensity in his hazel eyes pinned her where she lay as he slammed into her driving her up, up, and over the edge towards a spectacular orgasm. He pumped two more times and joined her in the freefall.
They collapsed together sprawled along the edge of the bed, slowly sliding off.
“I’m falling,” she laughed, patting the back of his head.
His face was still buried in her neck where he was working to catch his breath. His knees hit the floor. “Ow!” Lukas chuckled, and then slid his arms beneath her, lifting them both, and landing in a half-hazard manner somewhere in the middle of the bed. He rolled off and threw one arm over his eyes. “You’re trying to kill me, woman.”
The complaint was only semi-serious. Elsa curled into his side and rested her head on his chest. “And you would die a happy man.”
He wrapped his arm around her and smiled. “That I would. God, you’re the sexiest woman in the world, do you know that? Just when I think I know you...”
She drew a small heart on his chest with her finger. “I’m all about keeping you on your toes.” She kissed the center of the imaginary heart.
“That’s what I lo...,” his words trailed off, incomplete.
Elsa looked up. He still had his arm over his eyes so she couldn’t see his expression. “Yes?” she prompted softly, “that’s what you ...?” She whispered the last line, hesitant.
He didn’t respond. Finally, he emitted a soft snore.
She lay there watching him sleep trying to decide if she was heartbroken he hadn’t said he loved her or relieved. She cared deeply for Lukas, but she still didn’t know if what she felt was love or lust. Worse, although she knew she’d been keeping him sexually satisfied, she had no clue if what he felt for her went beyond the bedroom, even though they now shared his apartment. The word love had not come up. With two weddings on the horizon, Elsa had been thinking quite a bit on the subject. For Hugo and Sigrid, it all happened so quickly. She could plainly see they were meant for each other, but she wondered when and how they knew it. And then there was Heinz and Mahler. The two together seemed a perfect fit, but perhaps not to everyone who first met them. Joseph was a cranky police detective who never appeared cognizant of such things as finer feelings until the subject of abducted children came up. Then, a person could easily see his heart, see the passion of a father, a protector. Mahler, on the other hand, was quiet, contemplative, and observant. She had endless patience, and that patience worked well with Heinz’s impatience when it came to pursuing cases. She was his opposite, and they attracted each other in a way that was not obvious until it was...obvious, that is. For Heinz, the realization that he loved Birgitta came when he almost lost her to a sadistic Russian billionaire. Indeed, the Ivchencko affair was a turning point on many levels for them all. It brought her and Lukas closer together. After the multiple arrests, he asked her to move in with him. Since then, life had been good, but in moments like this one, she found herself questioning whether it was temporary or not. Would he ever commit? Did she really want him to?
Her phone buzzed. It was set to vibrate and nearly fell off the nightstand. She rolled away from Lukas in a smooth motion and picked it up. She read the text.
Message received. H arrived. Identity secure. Faust.
Her new supervisor was letting her know he’d heard from his contact, and Heinz had arrived in Saint Petersburg safely. She already knew since he’d called her earlier in the day. She texted back. Thanks for the update. EK.
She set the phone back down. Explaining about the phone call would require too much texting, and she was tired. She would tell Faust in the morning. Elsa stood up and headed, naked, to the kitchen. Lukas snored on. It was dark throughout the flat save for the ambient night lights in the hallway and one in the kitchen, itself. The tile floor was cold on her bare feet as she made her way to the refrigerator. She opened it and found the orange juice. Removing the jug, she set it on the counter and reached into the overhead cabinet for a glass. Pouring out a generous amount, she sipped it while leaning against the sink. A ping alerted her ears. She glanced at Lukas’s laptop. He’d left it plugged in on the small dinette table.
A soft glow emitted between the crack of the casing. Curious, she went to the table, lifted the monitor open, and looked at the screen. An email alert flashed, and before it faded, she caught a name. Korvettankapitan Dieter Kelner. Kelner was one of two army buddies from Lukas’ days as a soldier. Without ever offering very much information on his former occupation, she knew that he was somehow connected to a special operations team, but he was retired now, wasn’t he? The subject of the email read BIR
D IN THE HAND.
“What are you up to, my darling?” she whispered. Elsa pulled up the email server, but it was password protected, and she couldn’t get past the login screen.
She closed the computer, and stood, staring out the window sipping her juice. It appeared that Lukas was keeping more from her than the extent of his feelings. This did not sit well with her. She finished off her drink and rinsed out the glass before setting it on the drying rack. The wheels in her brain were spinning. Until she knew what was going on, she vowed to keep her business to herself. Elsa went back to bed, curling up on her side away from the man next to her who snored on.
Chapter Nine
BIRGITTA MAHLER ARRIVED promptly at 7:30 a.m. on the doorstep of Minister Obermeyer’s residence. She rang the doorbell and waited. Standing in the chill of the early morning air waiting on a man she intensely disliked for a multitude of reasons was no way to start her day. She tugged her coat tighter around her shivering frame. The door swung open revealing a tall, ginger-haired man with blue eyes. He nodded his head in deference to her.
“Good morning, Detective Mahler.” He stepped outside, pulling on his coat as he passed her.
“Officer Edelmann,” she acknowledged.
The man faced her. “Nothing new to report. The night was quiet. Herr Obermeyer will be out shortly. He’s on the phone.” Officer Edelmann finished his briefing and tucked his hands inside his pockets to keep them warm.
Mahler nodded. “Sehr gut. You are officially relieved then. Have a good day. Get some sleep.”
Edelmann gave a small smile, and then cast a sideways look at the interior of the house he’d just walked out of, sighing. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Birgitta stifled a chuckle. She knew that look. No one wanted this detail. Obermeyer had made many enemies within the department with his budget cuts, and the irony of his needing their protection was not lost on any of them.
Edelmann walked to his car leaving Mahler standing outside waiting for Obermeyer to finish his phone call. She could hear him inside, speaking in a hushed tone. She wiped her feet on the mat and stepped over the threshold. The inside of the Minister’s home was opulently appointed with marble tiled floors covered in Aubusson carpets. Expensive artwork graced the elegantly painted walls, and in the center of the foyer sat a granite-topped round table with a massive crystal vase containing fresh flowers and greenery. It reminded her of a five-star hotel. It also reminded her that the man had cut millions from the police budget allocated for protective gear and new weapons as well as department upgrades such as vehicles and technology, yet here that same man lived like some kind of king in his palace. It sickened her, but she kept her expression blank, and her emotions in check as always.
Obermeyer appeared from a doorway off the left side of the foyer. He was about six feet in height with graying brown hair cut short on the sides. It looked like he moussed the lengthier top as the waves had a shellacked appearance. His mustache was still dark, but to Mahler’s eye, it was kept that way with hair dye. Women can always spot a dye job. His dark eyes were deep set and dark brown beneath bushy brows in a narrow face. His expression was that of a bear with a sour belly. The man caught site of her and assessed her from head to toe. Birgitta felt immediately violated.
“Detective Mahler, I presume?”
“Yes,” she answered, keeping her hands in her pockets.
“I was expecting Kommissar Heinz, but Levitz tells me he’s at some seminar in Sweden. I suppose you’ll do.” He spoke down to her as if she were nothing.
Mahler’s blood boiled, but she maintained her stoicism, turned halfway toward the door, and said, “Are you ready?”
He grumbled to himself as he grabbed his overcoat from the hall closet. “Are you going to nag? Women, always nagging.”
Mahler counted to ten.
Finally, he shrugged into the coat and picked up his briefcase. Keys in hand, he walked to the front door. “I assume you’re driving?” He said over his shoulder.
“I am.” Mahler followed him out, and then stepped around him as he closed and locked the front door. She looked left and right, scanning as she made her way to the black BMW sedan she’d checked out that morning. Levitz had insisted on her upgrading her usual Audi since it was in service to a Minister of Parliament, even if it was one they all hated.
Obermeyer eyed the older model car with distaste. “Is this the best the Kripo can do?” He waited for Mahler to open the back door. She stood staring at him with one eyebrow raised, incredulous at being treated like some hired driver. She blew out an impatient breath, unusual for her as it bespoke of her losing her cool and reached out to open the back door.
“Yes, under our depleted budget, this is the best the department can do...unless you prefer to walk?” She spoke calmly, letting her words sink in.
The Minister looked at her more closely, then chuckled without humor. “You will do just fine, I see,” he said, sliding into the back seat. His faux humor was gone as quickly as it appeared.
Mahler closed the door, only barely refraining from slamming it, and went to the driver’s side, climbing in. “Now,” she said, “I have some questions for you on the way.”
“Haven’t you been briefed already?” Obermeyer shot the words at the back of her head.
Birgitta’s eyes narrowed, but she kept them on the road ahead as she pulled out into traffic. “I have, which is why I have questions,” came her arch reply.
She accelerated onto the Autobahn moving in between a delivery truck and a Fiat. The flow moved along quickly, and she knew she wouldn’t have a lot of time to gain new information before reaching their exit.
“First, I did not see in any of the reports if you had an idea as to who might be responsible for the death threats. I find it difficult to believe you weren’t asked this by the officers who opened the investigation.”
Obermeyer carefully set his briefcase on the seat next to him and caught her eye in the rearview mirror. “They asked. I had no answer. That’s why my office reported the threats in the first place. You are detectives. Investigate. I’ve turned over all the relevant information. Clues, aren’t they? Well, work them and figure this out so I can get back to working without this cadre of police escorts.”
Birgitta listened carefully to his words. “You said relevant information. Is there some irrelevant information withheld?” She glanced back to the rearview in time to catch Obermeyer’s eyes narrowing before he composed himself.
“I’ve turned over all that you need. Just find the malcontent, toss him in jail, and let’s be done with this business. I do not enjoy being flanked day and night by police, and I’m well aware your kind are not fans of mine either.” The sharp edge of his voice cut through the small space of the vehicle’s interior.”
Mahler realized her questions were needling him, and secretly, she was enjoying that fact, but his answers, or lack thereof, were also telling. Why was he so angry about being surrounded by protective officers unless it was keeping him from seeing someone?
“What makes you so sure the threats are being issued from a him? It could easily be a woman. The very nature of the threats reveals a desire to see you suffer, to not feel safe no matter what you do, and yet there has been no physical violence. Men are particularly physical in nature when making threats, whereas women will more often play head games.” She let that sink in, watching his face closely.
He looked into the mirror. “Maybe you should keep your eyes on the road.” He stared a moment longer before picking up his briefcase, opening it, and pulling out some papers, ignoring her.
Mahler looked ahead at the back end of the delivery truck. Their exit was coming up next. “I will need the names of any women you’re currently seeing, and those you’ve recently cut ties with.”
Obermeyer looked up then. “There are none such.” He dismissed her, but a small hitch in his voice told her she’d hit a nerve.
“Let’s not play games, Minister. Someone wants you dead,
someone who is making a very concerted effort to forewarn you of the event. If it were simply online threats, it could be considered of minimal security risk, but this person has gone so far as to hand-compose physical correspondence directly threatening your life. That is serious. It means this person is thinking very carefully about your demise, and not just in a hot moment on the internet, but in the privacy of their home while slowly cutting out the precise words needed to formulate a death threat from newspaper clippings. That is not someone to dismiss out of hand. Make no mistake, this person wants you dead, and if I’m to discover their identity, I’ll need your full cooperation. Otherwise, why bother asking for our help? Why am I here?”
Obermeyer stared ahead, thinking. With an annoyed sigh, he gave in. “What do you need to know?”
Mahler silently congratulated herself on getting through his thick, stubborn head. “There are generally three reasons someone seeks to murder another; sex, revenge or money. Each threat made to you has mentioned money specifically. We’ll start with anyone you’ve angered over money – contracts, budget cuts, and the like.”
“That would make the entire police state suspect, and you, Detective.” He tossed a look at her in the rearview.
A dry chuckle passed her lips. “I’ll let Levitz know his department is on the list. But money can be connected with sex, and that leads to women in your life, or a single woman. I will need names. In addition, anyone you’ve pissed off politically needs to be added. I need to start narrowing down the possibilities.” She flipped on the blinker and took the off ramp. “Oh, and this person has delivered posts to your office and home by hand. There was no postage. I’ll need the exact dates you received them so I can check traffic camera footage. This person knows where you live.”
The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 52