Don't Breathe a Word: Includes a bonus novella (Texas Justice Book 2)

by Christie Craig

  “It’s not like you haven’t kissed him before.” She made a cute face.

  “She’s right,” Juan said, smelling freshly showered. The brush of his lips was quick but potent. His hand found her side, and his touch came soft yet warm against the curve of her waist. The second his lips pulled away, he dipped back in. This one lasted a breath longer. He tasted minty like toothpaste, with a hint of coffee, good coffee with cream.

  When he left, she licked her lips and followed his suggestion to go back to bed. Closing her eyes, she thought about his kiss, about everything he’d done for them. She hugged her pillow and reminded herself that while she might not get forever, the here and now held promise.

  She didn’t wake up again until ten. The shower felt wonderful. In fact, she felt wonderful. She felt well. She’d barely combed her hair when she heard the doorbell ring.

  Barefoot, wearing jean shorts and a pink I’M A GIRL T-shirt without a bra, she made her way to the door. Before she got there, her phone rang. Finding it on the coffee table, she checked the number.

  It was Juan.

  “Hi.” She continued through the living room and peered at the door.

  “Open the door. I have lunch.”

  “Lunch? Okay, you have officially gone too far.” She opened the door.

  “Never too far,” he said.

  Sweetie pranced in, followed by Juan with fast-food bags. The smell of burgers and fries reminded her she hadn’t eaten. The sight of him smiling, looking way too official in his black Dockers and light blue button-down shirt, had her feeling underdressed.

  He pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was no tongue, but all heat. He tasted like…

  “Someone has been sneaking fries.” She licked the salt and grease from her lips.

  “Guilty as charged.” He pressed his mouth to hers again. This time his tongue swept across her bottom lip. Gone was the taste of salt, but she savored a flavor that was…all Juan.

  All want. All desire.

  Sweetie barked. The kiss ended. Kneeling, she petted the dog. When she stood, she came up on her tiptoes and kissed him again. He pulled her against him, and she quickly became aware of her lack of bra. Her nipples tightened. Another tightness pulled low in her abdomen.

  He continued kissing her as he slowly moved them toward the breakfast table. Setting the bag on the table, he pulled her closer.

  “How are you feeling?” He ran his thumb over her wet lips.

  “Good.” She whispered the word against the pad of his finger and felt the damp desire pool between her legs.

  “Not great?”

  “Great,” she said.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving.” She wasn’t talking about food. But worried he might turn her down as he had last night, she reached deep for boldness, and grabbed for his belt buckle. She stared up into his dark eyes as she tugged the belt loose, slid it out, and tossed it across a chair.

  His eyes brightened with a smile and heat.

  “You sure—”

  “Shh.” She hooked her finger in his belt loop and gave him a tug. When his pelvis met hers, she felt the hardness behind his zipper.

  Before she knew his intent, he scooped her up. As he caught her behind her knees, she looped her hands around his neck and shifted, wrapping her legs around his waist. Both of his hands cradled her butt. She tightened her legs around him.

  His mouth stayed busy as he moved them to her bedroom. He gently placed her on the bed, then stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt. Below that, he wore a T-shirt. She watched him remove a shoulder holster with a gun and set it on her dresser. The gun should have made her nervous. It didn’t.

  He slipped the white tee up and over his head. His black hair fell back in place, looking only slightly mussed.

  She stared at him shirtless, remembering seeing him like this when he’d been out jogging and wanting, aching to touch him.

  He moved his hand to unbutton his pants. With a flick of a thumb, he released them, unzipped them. Then with a slow hand, he lowered them down his legs.

  Her focus shifted to the huge bulge behind the blue fitted boxers. The empty ache between her legs became almost painful.

  He grinned. “I guess I have to take your clothes off, too, huh?”

  She started to reach down for her shirt.

  “No. Let me.” He eased in. Looking primitive, like an animal on the hunt, he moved toward her. With his knees on each side of her legs, hands bracketing her shoulders, he stared.

  He didn’t move. Or speak. Just devoured her with his eyes. She felt her nipples pressing against the cotton of her shirt. Then the backs of his hands brushed over her tightened nipples as he tugged it over her head.

  She inhaled.

  “No bra?”

  She swallowed. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  He turned his hand over and took her left breast in his palm. He squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned.

  “Beautiful,” he said, staring at her as if hungry. Her nipples hardened even more, and she felt a line of pleasure trail straight down her abdomen to grow even stronger between her legs. She couldn’t remember feeling herself go so wet so fast.

  She wanted him. All of him. Inside her.

  Reaching out, she caught the elastic waistband of his boxers.

  He caught her hand. “No touching.”

  “Not fair.” She brushed her other hand over his hard shaft behind the blue cotton.

  He hissed and caught that hand, too. “You want that?” He glanced down. “You want it inside you?”

  The boldness of his question brought heat to her cheeks.

  “Do you?”

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Then you don’t get to touch. Because if you touch, that’s over.”

  “That’s no fun.” She tightened her thighs, the ache painful.

  His smile was pure heat. “Oh, I’ll make it fun.”

  He caught both her wrists and placed her hands over her head. “You keep your hands here.” The sexy command sent sweet heat between her legs.

  Releasing her wrists, he shifted his gaze to her breasts. “Did you know your lips are the same color as your nipples?”

  She didn’t answer. Her mind went to mush when he cupped both her breasts in his hands. Leaning forward, he took her right nipple into his mouth. He sucked her, hard, and when he released her, she lifted up, begging him not to quit.

  But he sat up. The back of his hand slid down over her abdomen to the snap of her shorts. The touch, a mere caress, brought chills that were both cold and hot. He caught the button and released it. With a slowness that almost had her complaining, he lowered the zipper.

  He pulled off her shorts, leaving her red panties on. After the shorts were tossed aside, he put one hand between her knees and, as if to savor every inch, he slid his hand up. The slow touch finally arrived at her thighs.

  When he got to the V of her legs, he stopped.

  “No,” she muttered.

  He grinned. “What do you want?”

  When she didn’t answer, he repeated, “What do you want? Tell me.”

  “Touch me,” she said.

  “Here?” He lifted his hand to her right breast and squeezed her nipple.

  She moaned. Leaning in, he kissed her neck.

  “Where do you want my lips?” He inched down. “Here?” He pulled the nipple into his mouth. “Or do you want them here?” He brushed his hand down her abdomen to the mound of her sex.

  She moaned.

  “Answer me.”

  “There.” She lifted her hips.

  “Here?” He tapped the entrance of her sex. The quick touch brought a gasp.

  “Yes.” She started to reach for him, then put her hands back over her head and resorted to begging. “Touch me. Please.”

  “Oh, I’m going to. But first I want to taste you.” He kissed her abdomen. His tongue came out and left a trail of moisture down the top of her panties.

/>   She let out a cry. “I’m ready.” Without thinking, she reached out and tried to guide his hand between her legs.

  “Wait,” he said with more patience than she felt. “Just a little bit more.”

  “Seriously, I’m ready,” she growled. “Get a condom.”

  He laughed. “Not yet.” At least he touched her. His fingers slid under the elastic leg of her panties. He separated the folds of her sex. “Someone’s wet.”

  She let out a low moan and nearly came, but he pulled his hand out.

  “No.” She gasped.

  Gasped harder when she felt the sweep of her panties brushing down her legs. He caught her knees and pushed them apart. “Look at me. Watch me.”

  “I can’t.” She lifted her hips.

  “Yes, you can. Look at me.” His voice was deep. Entrancing. All sin.

  She opened her eyes and lifted her head. His eyes, almost black, met hers. “Keep watching.” He dipped his head down. His lips brushed against her. His tongue moved over her. She cried out. Her hips shot up. A finger entered her, and his tongue found her clitoris. Pleasure exploded.

  Just when she could almost breathe, he slid another finger inside her, reached deep, and found a place that she was certain had never been touched. Pleasure that bordered on pain had her trembling.

  She let out a sound, half moan, half cry. He moved on top of her. Then his mouth was on hers. He tasted like sex. Rolling her to the side, he pulled her against him. His arms held her tightly, her mind raced. Never had sex left her this…gone, weak, happy. She buried her face in his shoulder and tried to remember how to breathe.

  It took several long seconds before she could open her eyes. When she did, he was staring at her. A smile widened his lips. His eyes were devil dark. Confident. “Have fun?”

  “Yeah.” Her face grew hot.

  “Are you blushing?”

  “No,” she lied.

  “Damn, you’re precious.” He pulled her closer. Her face landed on his shoulder. She felt his laughter against her cheek. The sound, so free, so honest, had her closing her eyes and savoring it.

  She put a hand on his chest. “What about…?” She glanced down at the now bigger tent, pressing against her thigh. She could feel his hardness and his heat. The pulse of the sex had her wanting to give him as much as he’d given her. She imagined sucking him into her mouth. Taking it slow.

  “I’m a little worried,” he said.

  She glanced down. “I don’t think you’ve got anything—”

  He laughed. “Oh, sweetheart. Not about that. I’m worried I’m not going to last three seconds inside of you.”

  His grin was so sexy she wanted to laugh. And in that second she longed to hold on to the perfection of this moment, to how he made her feel beautiful, strong, happy. She wanted this to last. For them to last. Something about him…no, not something. Everything. Everything about him, from his ability to turn her to mush to the way he’d so easily won a scared five-year-old’s trust. “That’s okay. I’m two ahead of you anyway.”

  “Two?” He eased off the bed, his eyes locked on her.

  Nodding, she watched him pull down his boxers. His sex, thick and proud, bounced out and reached for the ceiling. “Then let’s go for three.”

  He found his pants on the floor and pulled a condom from his wallet.

  She watched as he slid it on. The sweet ache started building between her legs again.

  Easing onto the bed, he stretched out beside her. But he didn’t instantly move on top of her. He touched her face. Her breasts. Finally, he slid his hand down between her legs. He knew how to touch. How to make a woman want. She was moving to the rhythm of his fingers when he pulled his hand away and moved on top of her. Spreading her legs, he found his place inside her.

  He still took his time entering her. An inch at a time. Letting her body take him in. And she needed the time. Because there was a lot to take.

  He set the pace. Slow at first. Then faster. Filling her, her muscles hugging his shaft. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He was right. He didn’t last long, but it didn’t matter. She came at the same time he did.

  * * *

  Juan didn’t get back to the office until almost one. Not that he felt bad.

  He felt…good. Walking-on-water good. When he moved past Mildred at her desk, he nodded.

  “Hey. Stop,” she said when he passed.

  He swung around. “Yeah?”

  She tilted her head and stared like a curious puppy. “You’re smiling.”

  “Is that a crime?”

  “No. How’s that’s precious little girl and her mom?”

  “Good.” He tried to rein in his smile. He couldn’t.

  “Dr. Murdock called and was looking for you. Said you had a lunch appointment with him.”

  “Shit.” He’d forgotten his appointment with the precinct shrink. There went his smile. “I’ll call him.” His gut tensed. He’d had sex with Vicki and hadn’t once thought of Angie. He knew she’d want him to move on, to be happy, but there was still something that felt wrong about it.

  “I’m leaving early today,” Mildred said. “I told Bell I had some books that belonged to my granddaughter that she’s outgrown. I thought I’d drop them off at her house later. She told me she lives next door to you.”

  “Yeah,” Juan said. “I’m picking her up from school later.”

  “Then I might see you.” She stood and grabbed her purse. “Ginger is taking over the desk. Warn Connor to be on his best behavior. She called him a dickhead. I think he slept with her and didn’t call her back.”

  Juan frowned, even though he knew Connor was careful not to lead a woman on. Then for one second, he wondered if sleeping with Vicki didn’t earn him the same title. Not that he planned to cut things off with her. But how far did he intend to let it go? The thought gave him pause.

  “Juan?” Mildred said, as if she’d noticed he’d checked out.

  “What?” Then he remembered. “Yeah, I’ll tell Connor.”

  Juan walked into the office. Connor and Mark were both at their desks. He’d hoped they’d be out and wouldn’t question his two-hour lunch.

  “Heard anything from the morgue on Bates’s body?” Juan asked Mark.

  “No. Stone said he’d call when he had something.”

  Juan moved in. “Anything on that print they found on the car of Abby’s shooter?”

  “Nothing showed up on the Texas database. They’re still running it in other states.” Mark lifted his hands over his head and stretched. “My gut says he dumped the car and left the state.”

  “Yeah.” Juan realized he should offer the print to Jody. He looked at Connor. “Mildred’s leaving early. She asked me to tell you that Ginger is taking over the desk and you should lay low. She called you a dickhead.”

  Connor frowned. “I didn’t even sleep with her. I flirted, that’s all. We ran into each other in a bar and had a few drinks. Before the night was over, I knew she was looking for love, so I bowed out.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem.” Mark laughed and Juan joined in.

  Connor glared over at Juan. “Enjoy my pain.” Then he made a face. “Weren’t you wearing a different shirt this morning?”

  Juan looked down at his desk. Vicki had snagged his shirt and slipped it on, and she looked so good in it he’d told her to keep it and he went and grabbed a different one. “No.”

  “Yes, you were.” Connor laughed. “Because Mildred mentioned we were dressed alike. You get lucky?”

  “Stop.” Juan heard Mark’s chair turn toward him.

  “Damn!” Mark said. “Good for you.”

  “I said stop.” But Juan’s smile reappeared.

  A knock sounded on their open door. They all looked up at the redhead in the doorway. Her gaze shifted around the room, settling on Connor. Then her gaze moved to Juan.

  “Someone’s here to see you.”

  Juan noticed the tall man wearing jeans and a polo shirt standing behind Ginger. �
��Detective Acosta?” The man moved around the woman.

  “That’s me.”

  Ginger walked out. The man walked up to Juan’s desk.

  “I’m Detective Sam Milbourn from LAPD.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Crap. The cop looking for Vicki. Juan motioned to the chair in front of his desk, but had to work to keep his expression neutral. “How can I help you?”

  “You called me.” He lowered himself in the chair.

  “Milbourn? Oh, yeah. A name came up in an investigation and I saw you had a bulletin out about a woman with the same name. A Vicki…Talbot?” He purposely got it wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mark turn back to his desk, but the man wasn’t an idiot. He’d probably figured out Juan was blowing smoke. He just hoped Milbourn wasn’t in the smoke detection business.

  “Trever. Vicki Trever.”

  “Right. I spoke with your partner. I explained our suspect was African American. He said the Trever you’re looking for is white.”

  “Yes, but I was hoping to speak with the woman using the name. Maybe she knows my Trever.”

  “Wish I could help. I think I told your partner she disappeared.”

  “Did you get her address? I’m thinking Trever is hiding out around here. Maybe your suspect knows her.”

  “Like I told your partner, she gave false information. I ran her name hoping to find her. That’s how I found your bulletin.”

  “What kind of case was she questioned in? Is she tied to a cold case?”

  “Isn’t that the Mitchel case?” Mark turned in his chair.

  “Yeah,” Juan replied. “A drug deal gone wrong. The buyer died on the scene. We thought the suspect in that case was the same one in an older case we’re looking at. The first cop on the scene got the witness information. We tried to contact her and got shit.”

  “We were hoping to get a lucky break ourselves,” Mark said. “Now we’re suspicious she might even have been in on the drug deal. But from the officer’s notes we know she was black. So definitely not the same chick.”

  Juan shifted the tension in his shoulders. Mark had his back. “If you get anything on a Trever that fits our description let us know. We’ll do the same.”

  Milbourn frowned. “So you’ve got nothing that would help me locate this woman?”